Chapter 24 Chapter 24 "Let Them Laugh"

The secret garden wasn't Deacon's only job.Around the farmhouse on the field, a low wall of rough stones was built to enclose a field.In the fading twilight of mornings and evenings, and all the days when Colin and Mary didn't see Dickon, Dickon worked here, planting or tending tomatoes, cabbages, radishes, carrots and herbs of all kinds for his mother .Accompanied by his "spirits," he conjures wonders that he never seems to tire of.He whistled when he dug and weeded, and either sang a little Yorkshire pastoral, or talked to Soot and the captain, and the brothers and sisters, whom he taught to help.

"We never would have been so comfortable," said Mrs Sowerby, "if it hadn't been for Dickon's garden. Everything would have grown for him. He had yam eggs and cabbages twice as big as anyone else's, and a kind of No one has a taste." When she has a little free time, she likes to go out and chat with him.There was a long bright twilight to do after supper, when she settled down.She could sit on the rough low wall and watch and listen to the day's stories.She loves this moment.There is more than just vegetables in the garden.Dickon bought flower seeds for a few cents a pack here and there, and planted some bright, smelly things among gooseberry bushes and even cabbages, and he planted rows of sweet-scented osmanthus, carnations, pansies, and so on along the edges, and these Seeds of things he could keep from year to year, or their roots would bloom each spring, expanding in time into nice clusters.The low wall was the prettiest sight in Yorkshire, for he had gone to every crack and stuffed foxgloves, ferns, stone cress, and hedge-flowers of every kind, until only a few stones could be seen here and there.

"All one has to do to make them grow, mother," he would say, "is to make friends with them. They're like 'creatures.' If they're thirsty, give them water, if they're hungry, Give them something to eat. They want to live like us. If they die, I'll feel like a bad person with no heart for them." It was during these twilight hours that Mrs Sowerby heard all that was happening at Misselwest Hall.At first she only heard of "Master Colin" fascinated to go out into the grounds with Miss Mary, which was good for him.It didn't take long, however, for the two children to agree that Deacon's mum could "participate in the secret".Somehow she was "surely safe" without a doubt.

And so, on a beautiful quiet evening, Dickon told the whole story, with all its stirring details: the buried key, the robin, the gray mist that looked like death, the secrets that Miss Mary had meant never to reveal .Dickon's arrival, how he was notified, Master Colin's doubts, he was introduced into the territory of hide and seek, this is the last scene of drama, coupled with Ji Yuanben showing an angry face from the wall, Master Colin was indignant All of this caused Mrs. Sowerby's pretty face to change color several times. "My God!" she said, "it's a good thing that girl came to the manor. Made her and saved him. Standing on his own feet! We still think he's a fool with not a bone in him straight."

She asked a lot of questions, her blue eyes were full of deep thought. "What do people in their house think—he's so healthy, happy, and never complains?" she asked. "They can't figure it out," Dickon replied. "His face looks different every day. It's plumping up, it's less pointed, and the wax is fading. But he's got to complain." Much amused Le, grinning. "For what, for God's sake?" asked Mrs. Sowerby. Dickon chuckled. "He did it to save them from guessing what had happened. If the doctor had known, and would have found him able to get up on his own, he would probably have written and told Master Craven. Master Colin would have kept the secret and told him himself. experimenting with magic on his legs until his dad comes back, when he's going to stride into his room and show him that he's as straight as any of the lads. But he and Miss Mary figured the best plan was a little moaning now and then And fidgeting, spreading smoke for everyone."

Long after he had finished his last sentence Mrs Sowerby was still laughing softly. "Ah!" she said, "that couple is enjoying themselves, I'm sure. They'll have a lot to do, and there's nothing a kid loves more than a play. Let's hear what they do, Dee. Kenny." Dickon stopped weeding and sat up to tell her.Happiness shone in his eyes. "Master Colin is carried downstairs every time he goes out," he explained, "and loses his temper with John, the porter, for not carrying him carefully enough. He tries to make himself as helpless as possible, and never carries At first, until we couldn't be seen from the house. When he was put in the wheelchair, he grumbled and fidgeted a lot. He and Miss Mary liked it. When he moaned and complained, she would say, 'Poor Colin! Does it hurt so much? Are you so weak, poor Colin?'—but the trouble is that they can't help bursting out laughing sometimes. And when we're safe in the garden, they keep laughing so weakly Laughing. And they were forced to bury their faces in Master Colin's pillow, so that the gardener would not hear, if any of them were near."

"The more they laugh the better it is for them!" said Mrs. Sowerby, laughing herself. "A healthy child's laugh is better than any pill any day of the year. That pair is sure to fill up stand up." "They're filling up," said Dickon, "and they're so hungry they don't know how to get enough to eat without lying. Master Colin said they wouldn't believe he was a cripple if he kept calling for food. Miss Mary says she'll let him have her share, but he says she'll be thin if she starves, and they want to get fat together." Mrs. Sowerby laughed heartily at the revealing difficulty of this, rocking back and forth in her blue smock, and Dickon laughed with her.

"I'll tell you what to do, boy," said Mrs. Sowerby, when she could speak, "and I'll find a way to help them. When you go in the morning, bring a pail of good fresh milk, and I'll give them Bake a loaf of crispy cottage bread, or some buns with currants, like you kids love. Nothing beats fresh milk and bread. That way they'll be relieved while they're out in the garden A famine, and the fine food they get in the house will quickly fill the four corners." "Ah! Mother!" said Dickon admiringly, "you're a wonderful man! You always find a way. They were very disturbed yesterday. They didn't know how to get on without more food--they thought It's empty inside."

"They're two growing young men, both growing strong again. Those kids are like coyotes, eating their blood and flesh," Mrs Sowerby said.Then she smiled with the crooked mouth like Dickon. "Ah! But they must be enjoying themselves!" She was so right, this relaxed, wonderful mother creature—when she said it was their bliss that they "play the show," she was more of a mother than ever at that moment.Colin and Mary found it to be one of their most exciting pastimes.The idea of ​​self-protection from suspicion was first inadvertently reminded by the bewildered nurse, then by Dr. Craven.

"Your appetite has improved a lot, Master Colin." One day the nurse said, "You couldn't eat anything before, and you felt uncomfortable after eating a lot of things." "Nothing bothers me right now," Colin replied, and seeing the nurse staring at him curiously, he suddenly remembered that maybe he shouldn't be looking too healthy just yet. "At least it doesn't make me sick all that often. It's the fresh air." "Perhaps," said the nurse, still looking at him puzzled, "but I must speak to Dr. Craven." "She's just staring at you!" said Mary, when she was gone, "as if she thought there must be something to find out."

"I'm not going to let her find out anything," said Colin. "Nobody must be allowed to start an investigation." The morning Dr. Craven came, too, seemed perplexed.He asked a round of questions, much to the annoyance of Colin. "You spend a lot of time out in the garden," he suggested. "Where have you been?" Colin adopts his favorite attitude: treating other people's opinions with dignity and indifference. "I don't let anyone know where I go," he replied. "I go where I like. Everyone is ordered to stay out of the way. I don't get looked at, stared at. You know that!" "Looks like you've been out all day, but I don't think it's doing you any harm—I don't. The nurse says you're eating a lot more than you've ever been." "Perhaps," said Colin, in a whim, "perhaps an abnormal appetite." "I don't think so, because you seem to take it," said Dr. Craven. "You're gaining weight very quickly, and you're looking better." "Perhaps—maybe I'm bloated and feverish," said Colin, with an air of dejection and gloom. "People who don't live long are often—different." Dr. Craven shook his head.He took Colin's wrist and pushed the sleeve up, feeling his arm. "You don't have a fever," he said thoughtfully, "and this flesh you have grown is healthy. If you can hold on to this, my boy, we need not talk of death. Your father heard this extraordinary It must be a pleasure to make progress.” "I won't let you tell him!" Colin burst out furiously. "I'd only disappoint him if I got worse—I might get worse tonight. I might have a violent fever. I feel as though I'm going to It's on. I'm not allowed to write to my father—I'm not allowed—I'm not allowed! You make me angry, you know it's not good for me. I'm getting hot already. I hate being written, being It's like I hate being stared at!" "Hush--! Son," Dr. Craven reassured him, "can't write anything without your permission. You're too sensitive about things. You mustn't undo a good thing that's happened." He made no further mention of writing to Mr. Craven, and when he saw the nurse he privately warned her not to mention it to the patient. "The kid is unbelievably better," he said. "He's making unreal progress. Now, though, he's definitely doing things of his own accord that we couldn't get him to do before. He's excitable, though, and can't say anything." Words pissed him off." This sets off alarm bells for Mary and Colin, who discuss nervously together.Their plan to "play a show" has since set a date. "I might have to throw a tantrum," said Colin regretfully. "I don't want to have one. I don't feel bad enough to throw a tantrum. Maybe I can't have a tantrum at all. I don't have that lump in my throat." , I'm always thinking of good things, not terrible things. But if they say they're going to write to my dad, I have to do something." He decided to eat less, but, unfortunately, this wonderful idea was impossible to realize. Every morning when he woke up, he had a great appetite, and the table near the sofa had breakfast, home-made bread and fresh butter, snow-white eggs, raspberry jam① and clotted cream.Mary always had breakfast with him, and when they came to the table unawares—especially if slices of delicately sizzling ham smelled seductively from under their hot silver hoods—they would watch in despair. looking into each other's eyes. "I think we'll be clean this morning, Mary," Colin always said at last. "We can send home some lunch, and plenty of supper." But they found that they were never able to send anything back, and the empty plates sent back to the pantry were highly clean, causing much discussion. "I do wish," Colin would go on, "I do wish those slices of ham were thicker. A trifle-cake ain't enough for anybody." "Enough for a man to die," answered Mary, when she had just heard this, "but not enough for a man to live. I think I could eat three sometimes, when the sweet smell of fresh heather and gorse When pouring in from the open window." That morning Dickon - after they had been at ease in the garden for two hours - went behind a large bush of roses, took out two tin buckets, and revealed one full of rich fresh milk topped with cream another bucket of farm-made raisin buns wrapped in a clean blue-and-white handkerchief, the buns so carefully tucked and still warm, an orgy of surprise and surprise.Mrs Sowerby thought how wonderful it was!What a kind, intelligent woman she was!The buns are so delicious!How delicious is fresh milk! "She's got magic in her like Dickon," said Colin. "The magic makes her figure out how to do things—good things. She's a magical being. Tell her we're very grateful, Dickon—thank you very much." He tends at times to use rather adult phrases.He likes them.He liked this one a lot and improved it further. "Tell her she is very generous and we are extremely grateful." Then, forgetting his own grandeur, he plunged in, stuffed himself with buns, sipped milk from the pail, like any hungry little boy, took uncommon exercise, and breathed the wilderness In the air above, breakfast was more than two hours ago. This was the beginning of many such wishful coincidences.They actually woke up to remember that Mrs. Sowerby had to feed fourteen people, and that she probably didn't have enough food for two extra bellies a day.So they asked her permission to send them some shillings to buy things. Dickon made a thrilling discovery, in the woods on the woodland outside the garden where Mary saw him play the flute to the wild animals for the first time, there was a little deep pit where you could make a little stove out of stones, Baked potatoes and eggs in it.Baked eggs were a previously undiscovered delicacy, and piping hot potatoes with salt and fresh butter were just the thing for a jungle king - and delicious, filling too.Potatoes and eggs, you can buy as much as you want without feeling as if you are taking food from fourteen people. Every beautiful morning, the mysterious circle under the plum tree casts its magic, and after a short flowering period, the plum tree presents a canopy of dense leaves.After that ritual, Colin always walked for exercise, exercising his newfound strength at intervals throughout the day.Every day he grows stronger, walks more surely, goes further.Every day his belief in magic grew stronger—and magic probably grew stronger.He tried experiment after experiment because he felt his strength was growing, and that was the funniest of all the things Dickon had shown him. "Yesterday," he said the morning after a day's absence, "I went to Sweet Village at Mama's orders, and near the Blue Bull Inn I met Bob Howls. He's the strongest man in the field. He's a A champ who can jump higher than anyone else and throw a hammer farther than anyone else. He travels to Scotland for years to compete. I've known him since I was a kid and he's a nice guy and I asked him some questions. The gentlemen call him a sportsman, and I thought of you, Master Colin, and I said, 'How do you get your muscles so bulging, Bob? Did you do something extra to make them so strong?' And he said , 'Well, yes, boy, yes. A big guy who came to Sweet Village for a show once showed me how to work the arms and legs and every muscle in the body.' And I said, 'Would this make a weak Kid get strong, Bob?' He laughed, and said, 'Are you that weak kid?' I said, 'No, but I knew a young gentleman who had been ill for a long time and was recovering, and I wish I knew Some tricks to tell him.' I didn't mention the name, and he didn't ask. Like I said, he was very nice, and he was so kind as to stand up and show me, and I followed him until I remembered it." Colin had been listening excitedly. "Can you demonstrate it to me?" he said aloud, "OK?" "Oh yes, of course," answered Dickon, rising, "but he said you must be gentle at first, and be careful not to get too tired. Take rests in between, and breathe deeply and not too much." "I'll be careful," said Colin, "show me! Dickon, you're the most magical boy in the world!" Deacon stood up from the grass and slowly went through a set of well-designed, practical and simple muscle training.Colin stared wide-eyed.He is sitting and can only do a few movements.Then when he stood on his already stable legs, he did a few softly.Mary started doing it too.Sooty watched the show, very troubled, leaving the branches and jumping around restlessly because it couldn't do it either. Since then, exercise has become a daily task like magic.Colin and Mary might be able to make more each time they tried, and they ended up with such appetites that they lost them by the time Dickon put the basket on the rosebush each morning.But the little stove in the pit and Mrs. Sowerby's generosity were so full that Mrs. Medlock, the nurse, and Dr. Craven were again bewildered.You can be indifferent to breakfast and show contempt for supper, provided you have it to the brim, stuffed with baked eggs, baked potatoes, rich frothy fresh milk, oatcakes and clotted cream. "They hardly eat anything," said the nurse, "and they'll starve if they can't be persuaded to take some nourishment. But look at them." "Look!" exclaimed Mrs. Medlock indignantly. "Ah! I'm so confused about them. They're a pair of little Santa Clauses. They've got their coats torn today, and tomorrow they're spoiled by the cook's most tempting meal." Sniffing. The lovely broiler chicken was sent back yesterday without a bite of the bread dipping the fork—the poor woman had invented a pudding for them. She was almost crying. She was afraid If they starve themselves into coffins, they'll blame her." Dr. Craven came to see Colin and looked at him long and carefully.When the nurse spoke to him and showed him the almost untouched tray of breakfast she had saved to show him, he put on a terribly worried expression—but waited until he sat down by Colin's sofa to examine him. , his expression was even more worried.He had been called to London on business earlier and had not seen the child for almost two weeks.Once young people start to recover quickly.The waxy tinge was gone, and the warm rose color of Colin's skin showed; his beautiful eyes were clear, and the cavities under them, on his cheeks, on his temples had been filled.His once dark, thick curls began to look as if they were bouncing healthy from his forehead, soft and warm and alive.His lips are full and of normal color.In fact, imitating a boy who is definitely disabled, the sight of him is humiliating.Dr. Craven pinched his chin, pondering over and over again. "I'm sorry to hear that you don't eat anything," he said. "That won't work. You'll lose the meat you've grown—you've grown tremendously. You ate well not long ago." "I told you it was an abnormal appetite," replied Colin. Mary was sitting on a nearby footstool when she suddenly made a strange noise, which she nearly choked on as she tried to push it down so violently. "What's the matter?" said Dr. Craven, turning to look at her. Mary's attitude became very severe. "It was both a sneeze and a cough," she answered, reproachfully dignified, "and down my throat." "But," she said to Colin afterwards, "I couldn't help it. Just rushed out, because suddenly I couldn't help thinking of the last big potato you ate, your mouth open, biting through the thick crusty, with jam and clotted cream on top." "Is there any way the children can sneak food?" Dr. Craven asked Mrs. Medlock. "No way, unless they dig in the ground and pluck from the trees," answered Mrs. Medlock. "They stay in the garden all day, seeing no one but each other. If what they want and what they send It’s different, they just need to ask.” "Well," said Dr. Craven, "as long as they don't eat to make them comfortable, we don't have to bother ourselves. The boy's a newcomer." "The girl too," said Mrs. Medlock, "she's definitely beginning to look pretty, because she's plumped up and she's got rid of her ugly little bitter gourd face. Her hair is growing thick and alive, and her complexion is getting brighter. She She used to be a very sullen, curmudgeon-like little thing, and now she laughs with Master Colin like a pair of crazy young men. Maybe that's what made them fat." "Perhaps," said Dr. Craven, "let them laugh." [①Raspberry, a fruit smaller than strawberries, round, red or pink, soft and juicy, with a sweet and sour taste, rarely eaten directly, mostly used to make jam, garnish desserts, or smashed to make soup , poured over various desserts, such as ice cream. 】 【②Bread dipping sauce, a white dipping sauce, thickened with bread crumbs, usually dipped in roast chicken or roast turkey. 】