Таинственный сад
X. Dickon
“Doyouthinkheis?”criedMaryeagerly.Shedidsowanttoknow.“Doyouthinkhereallylikesme?”
“Hewouldn’tcomeneartheeifhedidn’t,”answeredDickon.“Birdsisrarechoosersan’arobincanfloutabodyworsethanaman.See,he’smakinguptotheenow.‘Cannottha’seeachap?’he’ssayin’.”
Anditreallyseemedasifitmustbetrue.Hesosidledandtwitteredandtiltedashehoppedonhisbush.
“Doyouunderstandeverythingbirdssay?”saidMary.
Dickon’sgrinspreaduntilheseemedallwide,red,curvingmouth,andherubbedhisroughhead.
“IthinkIdo,andtheythinkIdo,”hesaid.“I’velivedonth’moorwith’emsolong.I’vewatched’embreakshellan’comeoutan’fledgean’learntoflyan’begintosing,tillIthinkI’moneof’em.SometimesIthinkp’rapsI’mabird,orafox,orarabbit,orasquirrel,orevenabeetle,an’Idon’tknowit.”
Helaughedandcamebacktothelogandbegantotalkabouttheflowerseedsagain.Hetoldherwhattheylookedlikewhentheywereflowers;hetoldherhowtoplantthem,andwatchthem,andfeedandwaterthem.
“Seehere,”hesaidsuddenly,turningroundtolookather.“I’llplantthemfortheemyself.Whereistha’garden?”
Mary’sthinhandsclutchedeachotherastheylayonherlap.Shedidnotknowwhattosay,soforawholeminuteshesaidnothing.Shehadneverthoughtofthis.Shefeltmiserable.Andshefeltasifshewentredandthenpale.
“Tha’sgotabito’garden,hasn’ttha’?”Dickonsaid.
