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He spoke to his people just as you spoke to Martha. Everybody had to do everything he told them--in a minute. I think they would have been killed if they hadn't. She might as well tell him, she thought she could talk about Dickon without mentioning the secret garden. She had liked to hear Martha talk about him.
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Besides, she longed to talk about him. It would seem to bring him nearer. He is twelve years old," she explained. He can charm foxes and squirrels and birds just as the natives in India charm snakes. He plays a very soft tune on a pipe and they come and listen. There were some big books on a table at his side and he dragged one suddenly toward him.
The book was a beautiful one with superb colored illustrations and he turned to one of them.
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He says it's because he lives on the moor so much and he knows their ways. He says he feels sometimes as if he was a bird or a rabbit himself, he likes them so. I think he asked the robin questions. It seemed as if they talked to each other in soft chirps.
Colin lay back on his cushion and his eyes grew larger and larger and the spots on his cheeks burned. He keeps them secret so that other boys won't find their holes and frighten them. He knows about everything that grows or lives on the moor. They are so busy and having such fun under the earth or in the trees or heather. It's their world. I thought it was hideous. Martha told me about it first and then Dickon. When Dickon talks about it you feel as if you saw things and heard them and as if you were standing in the heather with the sun shining and the gorse smelling like honey--and all full of bees and butterflies.
He looked like a person listening to a new sound in the distance and wondering what it was. How could I? I am going to die. She didn't like the way he had of talking about dying. She did not feel very sympathetic. She felt rather as if he almost boasted about it. They wish I would, too. Craven because he would get Misselthwaite and be rich instead of poor. He daren't say so, but he always looks cheerful when I am worse.
When I had typhoid fever his face got quite fat. I think my father wishes it, too. And then he lay back on his cushion and was still, as if he were thinking. And there was quite a long silence. Perhaps they were both of them thinking strange things children do not usually think. I heard him say one thing quite aloud. He said, 'The lad might live if he would make up his mind to it. Put him in the humor. She felt as if she would like this thing to be settled one way or the other.
He's always talking about live things. He never talks about dead things or things that are ill. He's always looking up in the sky to watch birds flying--or looking down at the earth to see something growing.
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He has such round blue eyes and they are so wide open with looking about. And he laughs such a big laugh with his wide mouth--and his cheeks are as red--as red as cherries. Let us talk about living. Let us talk and talk about Dickon.
And then we will look at your pictures. It was the best thing she could have said. To talk about Dickon meant to talk about the moor and about the cottage and the fourteen people who lived in it on sixteen shillings a week--and the children who got fat on the moor grass like the wild ponies.
And about Dickon's mother--and the skipping-rope--and the moor with the sun on it--and about pale green points sticking up out of the black sod.
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And it was all so alive that Mary talked more than she had ever talked before--and Colin both talked and listened as he had never done either before. And they both began to laugh over nothings as children will when they are happy together.
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And they laughed so that in the end they were making as much noise as if they had been two ordinary healthy natural ten-year-old creatures--instead of a hard, little, unloving girl and a sickly boy who believed that he was going to die. They enjoyed themselves so much that they forgot the pictures and they forgot about the time. They had been laughing quite loudly over Ben Weatherstaff and his robin, and Colin was actually sitting up as if he had forgotten about his weak back, when he suddenly remembered something.
It seemed so queer that they had talked so much and never remembered this simple thing that they laughed more than ever, because they had got into the humor to laugh at anything. And in the midst of the fun the door opened and in walked Dr. Craven and Mrs. Craven started in actual alarm and Mrs. Medlock almost fell back because he had accidentally bumped against her. Medlock with her eyes almost starting out of her head.
http://1000yrs.net/includes/quebec/dating-deal-breakers-the-final-straw.php Then Mary was reminded of the boy Rajah again. Colin answered as if neither the doctor's alarm nor Mrs. Medlock's terror were of the slightest consequence. He was as little disturbed or frightened as if an elderly cat and dog had walked into the room. I like her. She must come and talk to me whenever I send for her. Craven turned reproachfully to Mrs. There's not a servant on the place tha'd dare to talk--they all have their orders. I am glad she came. Don't be silly, Medlock.
Mary saw that Dr. Craven did not look pleased, but it was quite plain that he dare not oppose his patient. He sat down by Colin and felt his pulse. Excitement is not good for you, my boy," he said. She makes me better. The nurse must bring up her tea with mine.