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Updated: June 23, 2025
And she did not say it either in her hard little voice or in her imperious Indian voice, but in a tone so soft and eager and coaxing that Ben Weatherstaff was as surprised as she had been when she heard him whistle. "Why," he cried out, "tha' said that as nice an' human as if tha' was a real child instead of a sharp old woman. Tha' said it almost like Dickon talks to his wild things on th' moor."
Tha'lt make a mon yet. God bless thee!" Dickon held Colin's arm strongly but the boy had not begun to falter. He stood straighter and straighter and looked Ben Weatherstaff in the face. "I'm your master," he said, "when my father is away. And you are to obey me. This is my garden. Don't dare to say a word about it!
"Aye, that I did," he answered with a shrewdly significant air. "Both of them?" suggested Mrs. Medlock. "Both of 'em," returned Ben Weatherstaff. "Thank ye kindly, ma'am, I could sup up another mug of it." "Together?" said Mrs. Medlock, hastily overfilling his beer-mug in her excitement. "Together, ma'am," and Ben gulped down half of his new mug at one gulp. "Where was Master Colin?
Ben Weatherstaff felt as if he had somehow been led into appearing at a prayer-meeting. Ordinarily he was very fixed in being what he called "agen' prayer-meetin's" but this being the Rajah's affair he did not resent it and was indeed inclined to be gratified at being called upon to assist. Mistress Mary felt solemnly enraptured.
Colin was at its head with Dickon on one side and Mary on the other. Ben Weatherstaff walked behind, and the "creatures" trailed after them, the lamb and the fox cub keeping close to Dickon, the white rabbit hopping along or stopping to nibble and Soot following with the solemnity of a person who felt himself in charge. It was a procession which moved slowly but with dignity.
"Well, I'd got to like 'em an' I liked her an' she liked 'em," Ben Weatherstaff admitted reluctantly. "Once or twice a year I'd go an' work at 'em a bit prune 'em an' dig about th' roots. They run wild, but they was in rich soil, so some of 'em lived." "When they have no leaves and look gray and brown and dry, how can you tell whether they are dead or alive?" inquired Mary.
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. "Do you know there is one thing we have never once thought of," he said. "We are cousins."
"He mun come home he mun come home." "Susan Sowerby," said Ben Weatherstaff, getting close to her. "Look at th' lad's legs, wilt tha'? They was like drumsticks i' stockin' two month' ago an' I heard folk tell as they was bandy an' knock-kneed both at th' same time. Look at 'em now!" Susan Sowerby laughed a comfortable laugh. "They're goin' to be fine strong lad's legs in a bit," she said.
"Ben Weatherstaff," he answered, and then he added with a surly chuckle, "I'm lonely mysel' except when he's with me," and he jerked his thumb toward the robin. "He's th' only friend I've got." "I have no friends at all," said Mary. "I never had. My Ayah didn't like me and I never played with any one."
There was a brief fierce scramble, the rugs were tossed on to the ground, Dickon held Colin's arm, the thin legs were out, the thin feet were on the grass. Colin was standing upright upright as straight as an arrow and looking strangely tall his head thrown back and his strange eyes flashing lightning. "Look at me!" he flung up at Ben Weatherstaff. "Just look at me you! Just look at me!"
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