Chapter 9 Chapter Nine The Weirdest House Anyone Has Ever Lived In

It is one of the most beautiful and mysterious places anyone can imagine.The high walls that locked it were covered with the leafless branches of climbing roses, densely tangled together.Mary Lennox knew these were roses because she had seen many roses in India.The whole ground was covered with dead, winter-killed brown grass, and out of the brown grew bushes that must have been rosebushes if they were alive.There were many roses grafted on the trunk, and the branches spread out like young trees.There are other trees in the garden.One of the things that makes this place so strange and so lovely is the climbing roses that cover these trees.Their drooping vines made a gently swaying curtain, here and there kinked into each other, or kinked into a far-reaching branch.Rose branches climbed from tree to tree, making themselves beautiful bridges.There were no leaves or roses on the branches now, and Mary didn't know if they were dead or alive, but their slender gray-brown stems and twigs looked like a sort of haze-like mantle over everything, the walls, the trees. , even on the brown grass—they fell from the hitches and spread across the ground.It is the smoky entanglement of these trees that makes everything seem mysterious.It must have been different to Mary, unlike any other garden that had not been long abandoned, unlike anything she had ever seen in her life.

"It's so quiet here!" she murmured, "It's so quiet!" Then she paused, listening to the silence of the moment.The robin had already flown to its treetops and was as still as the world around him.It didn't even flap its wings, it didn't move, and looked at Mary. "No wonder it's so quiet here," she murmured again, "I'm the first person to speak here in ten years." She moved away from the door, moving lightly as if she was worried about waking someone.Fortunately, there was grass under her feet, so her steps made no sound.She passed under a gray archway among the trees, like a fairy tale, and looked up at the scattered branches that formed the archway. "I wonder if they're all dead," she thought. "Is it all a dead garden? I hope not."

If she were Ji Yuanben, she would be able to tell whether the tree was alive or not by observation, but she could only see brownish-gray twigs and branches, without any trace of leaf buds, even if they were a little big. But she was already in this wonderful garden, and she could come in through the door under the ivy at any time, and she felt that she had discovered a new world of her own. Within the four walls, the sun was shining brightly, and the high blue sky seemed brighter and gentler in this part of Misselwest than it was in the moor.The robin flew down from the top of the tree, now hopping around her, now following her from tree to tree.It chattered a lot and looked very busy, as if it was guiding her.Everything was so strange and silent, she seemed thousands of miles away from anyone, but somehow she didn't feel alone at all.The only thing that bothered her was that she wondered if the roses were dead, or if some might still be alive and might grow leaves and buds when the weather warmed up.She didn't want it to be a dead garden.How wonderful it would be if it were a living garden, with what thousands of roses would grow around it!

She came in with the rope hanging on her arm, and after walking around for a while, she thought she could jump rope around the whole garden, stopping when she wanted to see something.There seemed to be grassy paths here and there, and in one or two corners there were gazebo-like evergreens with stone benches or moss-covered stilt stone vases. She came to a second such evergreen gazebo and stopped.There used to be a flowerbed here, and she seemed to see something emerging from the black soil—pointy grayish-green dots.She remembered what Ji Yuanben said, and knelt down to examine them. "Yes, these are little succulents, perhaps crocuses, or snowdrops, or narcissus," she murmured.

She bent close to them, sniffing the fresh smell of wet earth.She likes the smell very much. "Maybe there's something else growing out of other places," she thought. "I'll have a look around the whole garden." Instead of jumping rope, she walked.She walked slowly, keeping her eyes on the ground.She inspected the old flower beds and the grass, and after she walked around, trying not to miss anything, she found many spiky gray-green dots, and she became very excited again. "This garden is not too dead," she cried softly to herself, "even if the roses are dead, there are other things alive."

She didn't know anything about gardening, but she saw some places where the grass was so deep and the green spots were crowding out that she didn't think they had enough room to grow.She searched around, found a sharp piece of wood, and knelt down to dig and weed until she made a clean space around the green dot. "Now they look like they can breathe," she thought after the first one, "I'm going to do a lot more. I'm going to finish everything I can see. If I don't have time today, I can come tomorrow." " She went from here to there, digging and weeding, with unspeakable pleasure, from flower bed to flower bed, to the meadow under the trees.Exercise keeps her warm so she throws off her coat first, then her hat.Without knowing it, she kept smiling at the grass and gray dots over there.

Robin was extremely busy.It is happy to see horticulture taking off on its own property.It often eludes Ji Yuanben.Where there is gardening, all kinds of delicious things are dug out with the dirt.Now there is a new breed of animal here, less than half the size of Ji Yuanben, but who knows how to start working as soon as he enters his garden. Miss Mary worked in her garden till lunchtime.In fact, she didn't remember until much later.She put on her coat and hat, grabbed the skipping rope, and couldn't believe she had been working for two or three hours.She was actually very happy all the time, a dozen or so gray-green dots appeared in the cleared area, and they were twice as angry as when the weeds suffocated them.

"I'll be back in the afternoon," she thought, looking around her new kingdom, and speaking to the trees and rosebushes as if they could hear her. Then she ran lightly across the grass, and slowly pushed open the old door and slipped out under the ivy.She was so red in the face, and her eyes were so bright, and she ate so much, that Martha was happy. "Two pieces of meat, and two servings of rice pudding!" she said. "Ah! I'll tell mother how skipping rope works for you, and she'll be glad." When Miss Mary was digging with a pointed log, she was surprised to find a white root like an onion.She put it back on, patting the dirt down carefully.Then she wondered if Martha could tell her what it was.

"Martha," she said, "what's that white onion root?" "That's a bulb," answered Martha, "and many spring flowers grow out of it. The small ones are snowdrops and crocuses, the big ones are daffodils, jalapeños, and daffodils. The biggest ones are lilies and violets." Calamus. Oh! It's beautiful. Dickon has a lot of them in our garden over there." "Does Dickon know all the flowers?" said Mary, as a new idea took possession of her mind. "Our Dickon can make flowers grow in a brick walkway. Mum says he can whisper things out of the ground."

"Do bulbs live long? Will they live for many, many years if no one cares about them?" Mary asked anxiously. "They take care of themselves," said Martha, "that's why poor people can afford them. Most of them spend their whole lives in the ground, growing new seedlings, if you don't disturb them. In public forests there are There are thousands of snowdrops in this place. When spring comes, it is the most beautiful sight in Yorkshire. No one knows when it was planted." "I wish it was spring now," said Mary, "I want to see all the things that grow in England."

She finished her meal and went to her favorite seat, on the heather rug. "I wish—I wish I had a small shovel," she said. "What do you want a shovel for?" asked Martha, laughing. "You want to dig? I've got to tell Mom that too." Mary looked at the fire and weighed it.She had to be careful if she was going to keep her secret kingdom.She had done no harm, but if Mr. Craven knew the door was open, he might be terribly angry, get a new key, and lock the garden forever and ever.She really can't stand it. "This place is big and deserted," she said slowly, as if she were turning things over in her head, "the house is deserted, the yard is deserted, the garden is deserted. A lot of places seem to be locked up. I've never done much in India but there are more people to watch - native soldiers marching - sometimes the band plays and my nanny tells me stories. I can't find anyone to talk to here except you and Ji Yuanben. You have to work Well, Ji Yuanben doesn't talk to me often. I think if I have a small shovel, I can find a place to dig a hole like him, and if he will give me some seeds, maybe I can make a small garden." Martha's face brightened. "By the way!" she exclaimed, "isn't that what Mom said? She asked, 'There's so much open space in that big place, why don't they give her some land of her own, even if she doesn't grow anything, just plant How about some celery and radishes? She'll rake all the time and be single-mindedly happy.' Those were her words." "Really?" said Mary. "She knows all these things, doesn't she?" "Ah!" said Martha, "as she said: 'A woman who has raised twelve children knows something other than one, two, and three. Children make you understand, like counting Just as effective.'" "How much for a shovel—a small one?" Mary asked. "Well," answered Martha thoughtfully, "there's a shop in the village of Sweet, and I've seen a little garden kit, shovel, rake, and fork, bundled together for two shillings. That's all there is to it." Sturdy and usable." "I have more than two shillings in my purse," said Mary. "Mrs. Morrison gave me five shillings, and Mrs. Medlock gave me some money from Mr. Craven." "He still remembers you so much?" Martha exclaimed. "Mrs. Medlock says I have a pocket shilling a week. She gives it to me every Saturday. I don't know what to do with it." "My God! That's a treasure," said Martha. "You can buy anything you want in the world. Our farmhouse rent is only one and a third pennies, and it's like pulling your teeth out." Enough. I just remembered," she put her hands on her hips. "What?" said Mary eagerly. "There are packaged flower seeds in the store in Sweet Village, a bag of a penny, and our Dickon knows which is the best looking and how to plant. He walks to Sweet Village many times, just to Fun. Do you know how to trace printed letters stroke by stroke?" asked suddenly. "I know how to write consecutive strokes," Mary replied. Martha shook her head. "We Dickon can only read print. If you can trace print, we can write him a letter and tell him to buy the garden tools and seeds together." "Oh! you're such a nice fellow!" exclaimed Mary, "you are, really!! I didn't know you were so kind. I knew I could try tracing letters. Let's ask Mrs. Medlock for a pen, Ink, some paper." "I have some myself," said Martha, "I'll buy them, and I can write some letters to Mamma on Sunday. I'll get them." She ran out of the room, and Mary stood by the fire, wringing her little hands, contentedly. up. "If I had a shovel," she whispered, "I could soften the soil and dig up the weeds. If I had seeds, I could make flowers grow, and the garden would never be dead. — it will come to life." She didn't go out that afternoon because it was Martha's duty to clear the table when she got back the paper, pens and ink, and take the dishes downstairs, and she went into the kitchen, where Mrs. Medlock was, and told her what to do, so Mary felt She came back after a long wait.Next, the letter to Deacon is a serious piece of work.Little was taught to Mary, for her governess was too disliked to stay.She doesn't spell very well, but she finds that she can trace letters if she tries.Here is the letter Martha dictated to her: "My dear Dickon: I write this letter and hope you are well when you read it.Miss Mary has a lot of money, can you go to Sweet Village and buy her some flower seeds, a set of gardening tools for making flower beds.Pick the prettiest and easiest to use because she's never made it before and she lives in India and it's different there.Sending my love to Mom and the rest of you.Miss Mary is going to tell me more so that next time I take a shift you can hear the elephants and camels and gentlemen out hunting lions and tigers. Love your sister, Martha.Phoebe.Sowerby. " "We put the money in envelopes, and I sent the butcher's boy to take it in the buggy. He's a good friend of Dickon's," said Martha. "How are we going to get something after Dickon has bought it?" "He'll bring it to you himself. He'll love to come all the way here." "Oh!" exclaimed Mary, "then I'm going to see him! I never thought I'd see Dickon." "Do you want to see him?" Martha asked suddenly, because Mary looked so happy. "Yes, I think. I've never met a boy the fox and the crow like. I'd love to meet him." Martha made a small jerk, as if she were remembering something. "Come to think of it," she cried, "to think I've forgotten so much; I meant to tell you this first thing this morning. I asked my mother—she said she was going to ask Medlock herself. Mrs." "You mean—" Mary began. "I said it on Tuesday. Ask her if she can bring you over to our house someday and try Mom's hot oatmeal cake with butter and a glass of milk." It seems that everything interesting happens in one day.Think of crossing fields under blue skies in daylight!Imagine going to a farmhouse for twelve children! "Does she think Mrs. Medlock will let me go?" she asked rather nervously. "Of course, she thinks she will. She knows what a tidy person Mom is, and how clean she keeps our house." "If I went, I could see your mother, and Dickon," said Mary, thinking it over and loving the idea. "She's not like a mother in India." The work in the garden and the excitement of the afternoon finally moved her to serenity and contemplation.Martha remained until tea-time, but they sat comfortably in silence and said little.But just before Martha went down to get the tea tray, Mary asked a question. "Martha," she said, "does the scullery have a toothache today?" Martha must have made a slight jerk. "What made you ask that?" she said. "Because I waited for you for a long time, I opened the door and went to the other end of the corridor to see if you were coming. I heard crying in the distance again, just like we heard the other night in our house. There is no wind today, so you can't see It will be wind." "Ah!" said Martha uneasily, "you mustn't be walking around the corridors listening in. Mr. Craven's going to be terribly angry, and don't know what he's capable of." "I didn't eavesdrop," said Mary, "I was just waiting for you—and then I overheard. Three times." "My God! It's Mrs. Medlock ringing the bell," said Martha, who had almost run out of the room. "This is the queerest house anyone's ever lived in," thought Mary drowsily, her head sinking on the pillow of the seat of the armchair beside her.The fresh air and jump rope made her so comfortable she fell asleep. [①1 shilling = 12 pence = 1/20 pound]