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Updated: June 23, 2025
And then she told him about the robin and Ben Weatherstaff, and there was so much to tell about the robin and it was so easy and safe to talk about it that she ceased to feel afraid. The robin pleased him so much that he smiled until he looked almost beautiful, and at first Mary had thought that he was even plainer than herself, with his big eyes and heavy locks of hair.
"Tha' might sing th' Doxology," he suggested in his dryest grunt. He had no opinion of the Doxology and he did not make the suggestion with any particular reverence. But Colin was of an exploring mind and he knew nothing about the Doxology. "What is that?" he inquired. "Dickon can sing it for thee, I'll warrant," replied Ben Weatherstaff.
He's never seen a little wench here before, an' he's bent on findin' out all about thee. Tha's no need to try to hide anything from him." "Are things stirring down below in the dark in that garden where he lives?" Mary inquired. "What garden?" grunted Weatherstaff, becoming surly again. "The one where the old rose-trees are." She could not help asking, because she wanted so much to know.
"I never knows when I shall see thee or which side tha'll come from." "He's friends with me now," said Mary. "That's like him," snapped Ben Weatherstaff. "Makin' up to th' women folk just for vanity an' flightiness. There's nothin' he wouldn't do for th' sake o' showin' off an' flirtin' his tail-feathers. He's as full o' pride as an egg's full o' meat."
Dickon spoke to him as Ben Weatherstaff did, but Dickon's tone was one of friendly advice. "Wheres'ever tha' puts it," he said, "it'll be all right. Tha' knew how to build tha' nest before tha' came out o' th' egg. Get on with thee, lad. Tha'st got no time to lose." "Oh, I do like to hear you talk to him!" Mary said, laughing delightedly.
The robin was evidently in a fascinating, bold mood. He hopped closer and closer and looked at Ben Weatherstaff more and more engagingly. He flew on to the nearest currant bush and tilted his head and sang a little song right at him. "Tha' thinks tha'll get over me by doin' that," said Ben, wrinkling his face up in such a way that Mary felt sure he was trying not to look pleased.
The chief thing to be remembered, she had told him, was that Colin was getting well getting well. The garden was doing it. No one must let him remember about having humps and dying. The Rajah condescended to seat himself on a rug under the tree. "What work do you do in the gardens, Weatherstaff?" he inquired. "Anythin' I'm told to do," answered old Ben. "I'm kep' on by favor because she liked me."
Mystery and Magic and wild creatures, the weird midnight meeting the coming of the spring the passion of insulted pride which had dragged the young Rajah to his feet to defy old Ben Weatherstaff to his face. The odd companionship, the play acting, the great secret so carefully kept. The listener laughed until tears came into his eyes and sometimes tears came into his eyes when he was not laughing.
And this, if you please, this is what Ben Weatherstaff beheld and which made his jaw drop. A wheeled chair with luxurious cushions and robes which came toward him looking rather like some sort of State Coach because a young Rajah leaned back in it with royal command in his great black-rimmed eyes and a thin white hand extended haughtily toward him.
She used the wrong Magic until she made him beat her. If she'd used the right Magic and had said something nice perhaps he wouldn't have got as drunk as a lord and perhaps perhaps he might have bought her a new bonnet." Ben Weatherstaff chuckled and there was shrewd admiration in his little old eyes. "Tha'rt a clever lad as well as a straight-legged one, Mester Colin," he said.
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