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I want them here." The nurse gave a slight gasp and tried to conceal it with a cough. "Yes, sir," she answered. "I'll tell you what you can do," added Colin, waving his hand. "You can tell Martha to bring them here. The boy is Martha's brother. His name is Dickon and he is an animal charmer." "I hope the animals won't bite, Master Colin," said the nurse.

When she described the small ivory-white face and the strange black-rimmed eyes Dickon shook his head. "Them's just like his mother's eyes, only hers was always laughin', they say," he said. "They say as Mr. Craven can't bear to see him when he's awake an' it's because his eyes is so like his mother's an' yet looks so different in his miserable bit of a face."

Magic is a great thing and scarcely any one knows anything about it except a few people in old books and Mary a little, because she was born in India where there are fakirs. I believe Dickon knows some Magic, but perhaps he doesn't know he knows it. He charms animals and people.

Early in the morning and late in the fading twilight and on all the days Colin and Mary did not see him, Dickon worked there planting or tending potatoes and cabbages, turnips and carrots and herbs for his mother. In the company of his "creatures" he did wonders there and was never tired of doing them, it seemed.

My word! don't I wish Dickon and Phil an' Jane an' th' rest of 'em had what's here under their pinafores." "Why don't you take it to them?" suggested Mary. "It's not mine," answered Martha stoutly. "An' this isn't my day out. I get my day out once a month same as th' rest. Then I go home an' clean up for mother an' give her a day's rest."

He really did not mind being snubbed since the snubbing meant that the lad was gaining strength and spirit. The secret garden was not the only one Dickon worked in. Round the cottage on the moor there was a piece of ground enclosed by a low wall of rough stones.

Colin's breakfast was a very good one and Mary watched him with serious interest. "You will begin to get fatter just as I did," she said. "I never wanted my breakfast when I was in India and now I always want it." "I wanted mine this morning," said Colin. "Perhaps it was the fresh air. When do you think Dickon will come?" He was not long in coming. In about ten minutes Mary held up her hand.

He reflected, that from what he had observed on the memorable night when the Dwarf was first seen, and from the conduct of that mysterious being ever since, he was likely to be rendered even more obstinate in his sullenness by threats and violence. "I'll speak him fair," he said, "as auld Dickon advised me.

Colin had never talked to a boy in his life and he was so overwhelmed by his own pleasure and curiosity that he did not even think of speaking. But Dickon did not feel the least shy or awkward. He had not felt embarrassed because the crow had not known his language and had only stared and had not spoken to him the first time they met. Creatures were always like that until they found out about you.

"Is that one quite alive quite?" Dickon curved his wide smiling mouth. "It's as wick as you or me," he said; and Mary remembered that Martha had told her that "wick" meant "alive" or "lively." "I'm glad it's wick!" she cried out in her whisper. "I want them all to be wick. Let us go round the garden and count how many wick ones there are."