Chapter 19 Chapter Nineteen "It's Coming!"

The morning after Colin's outburst, Dr. Craven was of course sent for.When this happened, he was always called right away, and he always found, when he arrived, a pale, shivering boy lying on the bed, sullen, still hysterical, ready to burst into sobs at the slightest word, and to have another fight. .In fact, Dr. Craven dreaded and resented these tricky visits.This time, he stayed away from Misselwest until the afternoon. "What's the matter with him?" he asked Mrs. Medlock, rather annoyed, when he arrived. "He's going to burst his own veins one day in a fit of temper. The kid is half-mad for hysterical self-indulgence."

"Then, sir," replied Mrs. Medlock, "you'll find it hard to believe your eyes when you see him. That dull, bitter-faced boy, nearly as bad as himself, is fascinated for nothing." He. How she did it, I can't describe it. God knows, she's not pretty, you can hardly hear her talk, but she did what none of us dared to do. She was like a kitten last night She rushed at him as if, stamped her feet to order him to stop screaming, and somehow she stunned him, and he actually stopped, this afternoon—well, come and see, sir. It's incredible. " What Dr. Craven saw when he entered his patient's door really shocked him.When Mrs. Medlock opened the door, he heard laughter and chatter.Colin sat up quite upright on the sofa, in his recumbent robe, looking at a picture in one of the Garden Books, and talking to the dull child, who at that moment could hardly be called dull, because her The face was radiant with joy.

"Those long spiral ones, blue—we'll have lots of them," Colin announced. "They're called—" "Dickon says they're bigger and brighter delphiniums," cried Miss Mary, "and there's a lot of them." Then they saw Dr. Craven and stopped.Mary became very quiet and Colin seemed irritable. "I'm sorry to hear that you were ill last night, my boy," said Dr. Craven, a little nervously.He's a pretty nervous guy. "I'm better now-much better," replied Colin, very princely. "In a day or two, if the weather is nice, I'm going out in a wheelchair. I want to get some fresh air."

Dr. Craven sat down beside him, took his pulse, and watched him curiously. "It must be a fine day," he said, "you must be careful not to tire yourself." "Fresh air won't tire me," said the young prince. It is not surprising that his doctor was somewhat taken aback by the many occasions when the same young gentleman had screamed in rage and insisted that the fresh air would catch him cold and kill him. "I thought you didn't like fresh air," he said. "It's just me, I don't like it," the prince replied, "but my cousin will go out with me."

"And nurses, naturally?" suggested Dr. Craven. "No, I don't want a nurse." So noble, Mary couldn't help remembering the young aboriginal prince studded with diamonds, emeralds, and pearls, with a large ruby ​​in his dark hand, and he waved his servants to come and go. Salute and accept his order. "My cousin knows how to take care of me. I always feel better when she's with me. She made me feel better last night. A very strong boy I know will come and push my wheelchair." Dr. Craven felt rather alarmed.Had the weary, hysterical boy had any chance of getting well, he himself would have had no chance of inheriting Misselwest; but he was no amoral man, and though he was weak, he did not want to put him in real danger.

"He must be a strong, calm boy," he said. "I must know something about him. Who is he? What's his name?" "It's Dickon," said Mary suddenly.She somehow felt that everyone who knew the Moor must know Dickon.She was right.She saw Dr. Craven's face relax into a reassuring smile in an instant. "Oh, Dickon," he said, "you'll be safe if it's Dickon. He's as strong as a field colt, and it's Dickon." "And he's solid," said Mary. "He's a solid Yorkshire boy." She kept speaking Yorkshire to Colin, and she forgot.

"Did Dickon teach you?" asked Dr. Craven, laughing at once. "I learned it as French," said Mary, rather dryly. "It's like a native dialect of India. Very bright people learn it. I like it, and so does Colin." "Well, well," he said, "if it pleases you, maybe it won't do you any harm. Did you take your sleeping pills last night?" "No," replied Colin, "I didn't want to be convinced at first, but then Mary put me to sleep, and she put me to sleep by talking—in a very low voice—about the spring slipping into the garden."

"Sounds very soothing," said Dr. Craven, still more perplexed, and cast a sideways glance at Miss Mary, who was sitting on a stool, staring silently at the carpet. "You're obviously better, but you must remember—" "I don't want to remember," the words were interrupted, and the prince reappeared, "When I was lying alone, remembering, I started to hurt everywhere, and the things I thought made me start to scream, because I hated them so much. If where There's a doctor who can make you forget your illness instead of remembering it, and I'll send for him." He waved a thin hand that really should have been covered with ruby ​​rings bearing the royal emblem. "My cousin makes me better because she makes me forget."

Never had Dr. Craven stayed so short after his "glow," and usually he was compelled to stay long and do a great deal.He gave him no medicine this afternoon, left him no instructions, and spared him any conflicting scenarios.He appeared thoughtful as he came downstairs, and when he spoke to Mrs. Medlock in the study, she found him perplexed. "So, sir," she tried, "can you believe it?" "This is certainly a new development," said the doctor. "It is undeniable that the situation is better than before." "I believe Susan Sowerby is right--I do," said Mrs. Medlock. "I stopped at her farmhouse yesterday on my way to Sweet Village, and we had a chat. She was I said, 'Well, Sarah Ann, she might not be a good kid, she might not be a pretty kid, but she's a kid, and kids need kids.' We used to be classmates, Susan Sowerby and I."

"She was the best patient nurse I ever knew," Dr. Craven said. "Whenever I saw her in a farmhouse, I knew there was a good chance I could save my patients." Mrs. Medlock smiled.She liked Susan Sowerby. "She has her way, Susan," she went on eloquently, "and I've been thinking about something she said yesterday. She said, 'When the kids got into a fight, I taught them a lesson. They say, when I was in school, my geography teacher said the earth was in the shape of an orange, and I found out before I was ten years old that this orange doesn't belong to anyone. No one owns more than his own piece of land, sometimes it seems Not enough points. But don’t—nobody—think that the whole orange is yours, or you’ll realize in the future that you’re wrong, and you won’t understand until you hit hard nails. Children learn from children. Yes,' she said, 'there's no reason to hold an orange whole—with the skin. If you try to hold the whole, chances are you won't even get the pit, and the pit is too bitter to eat.'"

"She's a shrewd woman," said Dr. Craven, putting on his coat. "Yes, she has her way of talking," said Mrs. Medlock at last, very comfortably. "I've said to her sometimes, 'Oh, Susan, if you were any other woman, say You speak such a flat Yorkshire dialect that I must say quite a few times, you're smart.'" Colin never woke up in his sleep that night. When he opened his eyes in the morning, he lay quietly and smiled unconsciously, because he felt a strange comfort.Waking up to be wonderful, he turned, stretching his limbs luxuriously.He felt as if the tight rope that bound him had loosened itself, letting him go.He didn't know that Dr. Craven should have said that his nerves were relaxed and that he deserved a rest.Instead of lying staring at the wall and hoping he wasn't awake, his mind was now full of the plans he and Mary had made yesterday, full of garden pictures, full of Dickon and his wild animals.It's nice to have something to think about.When he heard footsteps running down the hallway, and within ten minutes of waking up, Mary was standing in the doorway.In a blink of an eye she was in the room, running across the room to his bedside, bringing a breath of fresh morning air. "You've been out! You've been out! It smells nice of leaves!" he exclaimed. She kept running, her hair blown out and disheveled, the air brightening her, her face pink, though he didn't see it. "It's beautiful!" she said, too fast for her breath. "You've never seen anything so beautiful! It's coming! I thought it was coming that morning, but it's just beginning to come. Now Here it is! Here it comes, Spring! So Dickon said." "Are you coming?" cried Colin, and though he knew nothing, he felt his heart pounding.He actually sat up from the bed. "Open the window!" he added, laughing, half with joy, half with his own imagination. "Maybe we can hear the golden trumpet!" While he was laughing, Mary came to the window in a blink of an eye, and opened the window in a blink of an eye, and freshness, tenderness, fragrance, and birdsong poured in together. "It's fresh air," she said. "Lie down and breathe it deeply. Dickon did that when he was lying in the moor. He said he felt it in his veins, and it made him strong, and he felt as though he could Live forever and ever. Breathe it, breathe it." She was merely repeating what Deacon had told her, but she had captured Colin's imagination. "'Forever and ever'! Does it make him feel that way?" he said, and he did as she told him, taking deep breaths over and over until he felt something new and joyful happening to him. Mary came to his bedside again. "Things are swarming out of the ground," she said hurriedly, "the flowers are unfurling, there are buds on everything, and the green veil is almost all gray, and the birds are scurrying for their nests." , afraid of being late, and some even fight for the place in the secret garden. A fox, a crow, a squirrel, and a newborn lamb." Then she took a breath.The newborn lamb had been found by Dickon three days earlier in the heath in the moor, next to its dead mother.It was not the first widowed lamb Dickon had found, and he knew what to do with it.He wrapped it in his coat and took it back to the farmhouse, where it lay by the fire and gave it warm milk.It's a soft thing, with a cute, goofy baby face, and its legs are long relative to its body.Deacon carried it across the moor in his arms, with his bottle in his pocket, with a squirrel.Mary sat under the tree, a mass of soft warmth curled up on Mary's lap, and she felt that she too was filled with wonderful joy, lunch words.A lamb—a lamb!A newborn lamb rests on your lap like a baby! She described it with great joy, and Colin listened, taking deep breaths, as the nurse entered.She was slightly startled to see the open window.She had sat stiffly in this room for many warm days past, because her patients were convinced that opening the windows made people cold. "Are you sure you are not cold, Master Colin?" she asked. "No," he replied, "I'm taking deep breaths of fresh air. It makes me strong. I'm going to get up on the couch and have breakfast. My cousin is going to have breakfast with me." The nurse left, hid a smile, and ordered two breakfasts.She found the servants' hall more interesting than the invalid's bedroom, at a time when everyone wanted to hear the news upstairs.Jokes abound about the unwelcome little hermit, who the cook says has "found his master, and it's good for him".The servants' hall was tired of his repeated tantrums, and the married and family baker made his point more than once that the disabled man might as well "hide well." Colin went to the sofa, put two breakfasts on the table, and made a statement to the nurse in the most princely manner. "A boy, a fox, two squirrels, and a newborn lamb are coming to see me this morning. I want them to be led upstairs as soon as they come," said he. "You must not be in the servants' hall." Start playing with the animals, don't leave them there. I want them to come here." The nurse gasped slightly, trying to hide a cough. "Yes, sir," she replied. "I'll tell you what you're going to do," Colin added, waving his hand. "You can tell Martha to bring them. The boy is Martha's brother. His name is Dickon, and he's a tamer." "I hope the animals don't bite, Master Colin," said the nurse. "I told you he was a tamer," said Colin grimly, "and a tamer's animals never bite." "There are snake tamers in India," said Mary, "and they can put the snake's head in their mouth." "My God!" The nurse trembled. They ate breakfast, the morning air splashing on them.Colin had a good breakfast, and Mary watched him with interest. "You get fat, like me," she said. "When I was in India, I never wanted to eat breakfast. Now I always want to eat breakfast." "I'm craving something this morning," said Colin, "perhaps fresh air. When do you think Dickon will come?" He will be here soon.After about ten minutes, Mary held out her hand. "Listen!" she said. "Did you hear that 'wow'?" Colin went to listen, and heard, the strangest sound in the world to sound indoors, a hoarse "wh-wh." "Yes." he replied. "That's soot," Mary asked. "Listen again. You hear a 'baa'—a tiny bang?" "Oh yes!" cried Colin, blushing. "It's the newborn lamb," said Mary, "and here it comes." Dickon's wilderness boots were thick and clumsy, and although he tried to walk lightly, they still thumped as he walked down the long corridor.Mary and Colin listened as he went on and on until he passed through the tapestry door and onto the soft carpet in the corridor that led to Colin's room. "With your permission, sir," announced Martha, opening the door, "with your permission, sir, here is Dickon and his little animals." Dickon came in, smiling his best.The newborn lamb was in his arms, and the little red fox was trotting briskly beside him.Nut sat on his left shoulder, Soot on his right, Husk's head and claws protruding from his coat pocket. Colin sat up slowly, staring, staring - just as he had when he first saw Mary, but this time with a stare of wonder and pleasure.The truth was, although he had heard a lot, he had no idea what the boy would be like, that his fox, crow, squirrel, and lamb would be so close and friendly to him that they looked almost a part of him. .Colin, who had never spoken to a boy in his life, was so overwhelmed by his own pleasure and curiosity that he did not remember to speak. But Dickon felt no shyness or awkwardness.When he and the crow met for the first time, the crow didn't understand his language and just stared at him without speaking, which didn't embarrass him.Little creatures are always like that before they know you.He walked over to Colin's sofa and quietly placed the newborn lamb in his lap, and the little thing immediately turned to the warm velvet robes and began to snout and snuggle into the folds and butt sideways with the side of his curly-haired thick head With gentle impatience.Of course no child could refrain from talking at this time. "What is it doing?" cried Colin. "What does it want?" "He wants Mama," said Dickon, smiling more and more. "I brought him a little hungry to see Na, because I knew Na would like to see him feed." He knelt down by the sofa and took a feeding bottle from his pocket. "Come on, little Dancy," he said, turning his little curly head lightly in his brown hand, "Na would like to be hungry for this. Na would enjoy more of this, more velvet robes. Yes," He stuffed the rubber end of the bottle into the arched mouth, and the lamb ecstatically sucked it like a wolf. After this scene, no one wanted to find anything to say.When the Lamb was asleep, questions came flooding up, and Dickon was willing to answer them all.He told them how he had found the lamb three days earlier in the morning when the sun was just rising.He stood in the field and listened to a lark sing, and watched it circle higher and higher into the sky until he was a speck in the blue sky. "Without his singing, I almost lost track of him, and I wondered how anyone could still hear him, as he seemed about to disappear from the world—that's when I heard Something else, far away in the heather. A faint bleat, I knew a newborn lamb was hungry, and I knew it wouldn't be hungry unless it had no mother, so I set out to find it. Ah What a way to find it. I went in and out of the heather, round and round, as if I was always turning the wrong turn. But at last I saw a little white on the rocks at the top of the moor, and I climbed up, Xiao Dangxi was found half dead from cold and hunger." As they spoke, Soot flew solemnly in and out of the wide-open window, croaking and commenting on the view, while Nuts and Husks made short trips to the big tree outside, running up and down the trunk and exploring the branches.The captain curled up beside Dickon, who sat on the heather rug for preference. They looked at the pictures in the garden book, and Dickon knew the common names of all the flowers and knew exactly which ones were already growing in the secret garden. "I can't pronounce that name," he said, pointing to one under which was written "Cymbidium," "we call it a columbine, and that one over there is a lion's flower, both of which grow wild in hedgerows." , but there is one kind of flower, bigger and more beautiful. There are some big clumps of columbine in the garden. When they bloom, they will flap their wings like blue and white butterflies all over the flowerbed." "I'm going to see them," cried Colin, "I'm going to see them!" "Oh yes, Na must," said Mary very earnestly, "Na can't waste time."