Sleep Story: The Secret Garden Ch 22 & 23

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett Chapter 22 When the Sun Went Down When his head was out of sight,

Colin turned to Mary.

Go and meet him,

He said,

And Mary flew across the grass to the door under the ivy.

Dickon was watching him with sharp eyes.

There were scarlet spots on his cheeks,

And he looked amazing,

But he showed no signs of falling.

I can stand,

He said,

And his head was still held up,

And he said it quite grandly.

I told thee the could as soon as the stopped being afraid,

Answered Dickon,

And the stopped.

Yes,

I've stopped,

Said Colin.

Then suddenly he remembered something Mary had said.

Are you making magic?

He asked sharply.

Dickon's curly mouth spread in a cheerful grin.

Thus doing magic thyself,

He said.

It's same magic as made these air work out in the earth.

And he touched with his thick boot a clump of crocuses in the grass.

Colin looked down at them.

Aye,

He said slowly.

There could be bigger magic than there that.

There couldn't be.

He drew himself up straighter than ever.

I'm going to walk to that tree,

He said,

Pointing to one a few feet away from him.

I'm going to be standing when weatherstuff comes here.

I can rest against the tree if I like.

When I want to sit down,

I will sit down,

But not before.

Bring a rug from the chair.

He walked to the tree,

And though Dickon held his arm,

He was wonderfully steady.

When he stood against the tree trunk,

It was not too plain that he supported himself against it,

And he still held himself so straight that he looked tall.

When Ben Weatherstaff came through the door and the wall,

He saw him standing there,

And he heard Mary muttering something under her breath.

What art saying,

He asked rather testily,

Because he did not want his attention distracted from the long,

Thin,

Straight-boy figure and proud face.

But she did not tell him.

What she was saying was this.

You can do it.

You can do it.

I told you you could.

You can do it.

You can do it.

You can.

She was saying it to Colin because she wanted to make magic and keep him on his feet looking like that.

She could not bear that he should give in before Ben Weatherstaff.

He did not give in.

She was uplifted by a sudden feeling that he looked quite beautiful in spite of his thinness.

He fixed his eyes on Ben Weatherstaff in his funny,

Imperious way.

Look at me,

He commanded.

Look at me all over.

Am I a hunchback?

Have I got crooked legs?

Ben Weatherstaff had not quite got over his emotion,

But he had recovered a little and answered almost in his usual way.

Not the,

He said.

Now to the sort.

What's the been doing with thyself,

Hiding out of sight and letting folk think that there was a cripple and a half wit?

Half wit,

Said Colin angrily.

Who thought that?

Lots of fools,

Said Ben.

The world's full of jackasses braying and they never bray now but lies.

What did the shut the self up for?

Everyone thought I was going to die,

Said Colin shortly.

I'm not.

And he said it was such decision Ben Weatherstaff looked him up over,

Up and down,

Down and up.

The die,

He said with dry exultation.

Not to the sort.

That's got too much pluck in thee.

When I see thee put the legs on the ground in such a hurry,

I know that was all right.

Sit thee down on the rug a bit,

Young mester,

And give me my orders.

There was a queer mixture of crab tenderness and shrewd understanding in his manner.

Mary had poured out speech as rapidly as she could as they had come down the long walk.

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 garden,

Weatherstaff,

He inquired.

Thing I'm told to do,

Answered old Ben.

I'm kept on by a favor,

Because she liked me.

She,

Said Colin,

The mother,

Answered Ben Weatherstaff.

My mother,

Said Colin,

And he looked about him quietly.

This was her garden,

Wasn't it?

Aye,

It was that.

And Ben,

Weatherstaff,

Looked about him too.

She remained fond of it.

It is my garden now.

I am fond of it.

I shall come here every day,

Announced Colin.

But it is to be a secret.

My orders are that no one is to know that we come here.

Dickon and my cousin have worked and made it come alive.

I shall send for you sometimes to help,

But you must come when no one can see you.

Ben Weatherstaff's face twisted itself in an old,

Dry smile.

I've come here before when no one saw me,

He said.

What?

Exclaimed Colin.

When?

The last time I was here,

Rubbing his chin and looking around,

Was about two years ago.

But no one has been in it for ten years,

Cried Colin.

There was no door.

I'm no one,

Said old Ben Dryley,

And I didn't come here through the door.

I came over the wall.

The Romantics held me back the last two years.

Tha came and did a bit of pruning,

Cried Dickon.

I couldn't make out how it had been done.

She was so fond of it,

She was,

Said Ben Weatherstaff slowly.

Anne,

She was such a pretty young thing,

She says to me once.

Ben,

She says laughing,

If ever I'm ill or if I go away,

You must take care of my roses.

When she did go away,

The orders was that no one was ever to come nigh.

But I come with grumpy obstinacy.

Over the wall I come until the Romantics stopped me.

And I did a bit of work once a year.

She gave her order first.

It wouldn't have been as wick as it is if Tha hadn't done it,

Said Dickon.

I did wonder.

I'm glad you did it,

Weatherstaff,

Said Colin.

You'll know how to keep the secret.

I'll know,

Sir,

Answered Ben,

And it'll be easier for a man with Romantics to come in at the door.

On the grass near the tree Mary had dropped her trowel.

Colin stretched out his hand and took it up.

An odd expression came into his face,

And he began to scratch at the earth.

His thin hand was weak enough,

But presently,

As they watched him,

Mary,

With quite breathless interest,

He drove the end of the trowel into the soil and turned some over.

You can do it.

You can do it,

Said Mary to herself.

I tell you you can.

Dickon's round eyes were full of eager curiousness,

But he said not a word.

Then Weatherstaff looked on with interested face.

Colin persevered.

After he had turned a few trowelfuls of soil,

He spoke exultantly to Dickon in his best Yorkshire.

The said,

As they'd have me walking about here,

Same as other folk,

And the said that had me digging,

I thought the was just lean to please me.

This is only the first day,

And I've walked,

And here I am digging.

Ben Weatherstaff's mouth fell open again,

And he heard him,

But he ended by chuckling.

Ay,

He said,

That sounds of the gotwits now.

Thart a Yorkshire lad for sure,

And thart digging too.

How'd they like to plant a bit of something?

I can get thee a rose to pot.

Go and get it,

Said Colin,

Digging excitedly.

Quick,

Quick.

It was done quickly enough,

Indeed.

Ben Weatherstaff went his way,

Forgetting his rheumatics.

Dickon took his spade and dug the hole deeper and wider than a new digger with thin white hands could make it.

Mary slipped out to run and bring back a watering can.

When Dickon had deepened the hole,

Colin went on,

Turning the soft earth over and over.

He looked up at the sky,

Flushed and glowing with the strangely new exercise,

Slight as it was.

I want to do it before the sun goes down,

He said.

Mary thought that perhaps the sun held back a few minutes just on purpose.

Ben Weatherstaff brought the rose in its pot from the greenhouse.

He hobbled over the grass as fast as he could.

He had begun to get excited,

Too.

He knelt down by the hole and broke the pot from the mould.

Here lad,

He said,

Handing the plant to Colin.

Let it in the earth thyself,

Same as the king does when he goes to a new place.

The thin white hand shook a little,

And Colin's flush grew deeper as he set the rose in the mould and held it while old Ben made firm the earth.

It was filled in and pressed down and made steady.

Mary was leaning forward on her hands and knees.

Soot had flown down and marched forward to see what was being done.

Nut and shell chattered about it from a cherry tree.

It's planted,

Said Colin at last,

And the sun is only slipping over the edge.

Help me up,

Dickon.

I want to be standing when it goes.

That's part of the magic.

When Dickon helped him,

And the magic,

Or whatever it was,

So gave him strength that when the sun did slip over the edge and end the strange lovely afternoon for them,

There he actually stood on his two feet,

Laughing.

Chapter 23.

Magic.

Dr.

Craven had been waiting some time at the house when they returned to it.

He had indeed begun to wonder if it might not be wise to send someone out to explore the garden paths.

When Colin was brought back to his room,

The poor man looked him over seriously.

You should not have stayed so long,

He said.

You must not over-exert yourself.

I am not tired at all,

Said Colin.

It has made me well.

Tomorrow I'm going out in the morning as well as in the afternoon.

I am not sure that I can allow it,

Answered Dr.

Craven.

I am afraid it would not be wise.

It would not be wise to try and stop me,

Said Colin quite seriously.

I am going.

Even Mary had found out that one of Colin's chief peculiarities was that he did not know in the least what a rude little brute he was with his way of ordering people about.

He had lived on a sort of desert island all his life,

And as he had been the king of it he had made his own manners and had had no one to compare himself with.

Mary had indeed been rather like him herself,

And since she had been at Misslewaithe had gradually discovered that her own manners had not been of the kind which is usual or popular.

Having made this discovery she naturally thought it of enough interest to communicate it to Colin.

So she sat and looked at him curiously for a few minutes after Dr.

Craven had gone.

She wanted to make him ask her why she was doing it,

And of course she did.

What are you looking at me for?

He said.

I am thinking that I am rather sorry for Dr.

Craven.

So am I,

Said Colin calmly,

But not without an air of some satisfaction.

He won't get Misslewaithe at all now that I am going to die.

I am sorry for him because of that of course,

Said Mary,

But I was thinking just then that it must have been very horrid to have had to be polite for ten years to a boy who was always rude.

I would never have done it.

Am I rude?

Colin inquired undisturbedly.

If you had been his own boy and he had been a slapping sort of man,

Said Mary,

He would have slapped you.

But he daren't,

Said Colin.

No,

He daren't,

Answered Mistress Mary,

Thinking the thing out quite without prejudice.

Nobody ever dared to do anything you didn't like because you were going to die and things like that.

You were such a poor thing.

But,

Announced Colin stubbornly,

I am not going to be a poor thing.

I won't let people think I'm one.

I stood on my own feet this afternoon.

It is always having your own way that has made you so queer,

Mary went on thinking aloud.

Colin turned his head,

Frowning.

Am I queer?

He demanded.

Yes,

Answered Mary,

Very.

But you needn't be cross,

She added impartially,

Because so I am queer and so has been Weatherstaff.

But I am not as queer as I was before I began to like people and before I found the garden.

I don't want to be queer,

Said Colin.

I'm not going to be.

And he frowned again with determination.

He was a very proud boy.

He lied thinking for a while and then Mary saw his beautiful smile begin and gradually change his whole face.

I shall stop being queer,

He said.

If I go every day to the garden,

There is magic in there.

Good magic.

You know,

Mary,

I'm sure there is.

So am I,

Said Mary.

Even if it isn't real magic,

Colin said,

We can pretend it is.

Something is there.

Something.

It's magic,

Said Mary,

But not black.

It's as white as snow.

They always called it magic,

And indeed it seemed like it in the months that followed.

The wonderful months.

The radiant months.

The amazing ones.

Oh,

The things which happened in the garden.

If you have never had a garden,

You cannot understand.

And if you've had a garden,

You will know that it would take you a whole book to describe all that came to pass there.

At first,

It would seem that green things would never cease pushing their way through the earth,

In the grass,

In the beds,

Even in the crevices of the walls.

Then the green things began to show buds,

And the buds began to unfurl and show color.

Every shade of blue.

Every shade of purple.

Every tint and hue of crimson.

In its happy days,

Flowers had been tucked away into every inch and hole and corner.

Ben Weatherstaff had seen it done,

And had himself scraped out mortar from between the bricks on the wall and made pockets of earth for lovely clinging things to grow on.

Iris and white lilies rose out of the grass in the sheaves,

And the green alcoves filled themselves with amazing armies of the blue and white flower lances,

Of tall delphiniums or columbines or caponales.

She was main fond of them,

She was,

Ben Weatherstaff said.

She liked them things,

As was always pointing up in the blue sky,

She used to tell.

Not as she was one of them as looking down on earth,

Not her.

She just loved it,

But she said as the blue sky always looked so joyful.

The seeds Dickon and Mary had planted grew as if fairies had tended them.

Satiny poppies of all tints danced in the breeze by the score.

Gayly defying flowers which had lived in the garden for years,

In which it might be confessed seemed rather to wonder how such new people got there.

And the roses,

The roses,

Rising out of the grass,

Tangled round the sundial,

Wreathing the tree trunks and hanging from their branches,

Climbing up the walls and spreading over them with long garlands,

Falling in cascades.

They came alive day by day,

Hour by hour,

Fresh leaves and buds and buds,

Tiny at first,

But swelling and working magic until they burst and uncurled into cups of scent,

Delicately spilling themselves over their brims and filling the garden air.

Colin saw it all,

Watching each change as it took place.

Every morning he was brought out and every hour of each day when it didn't rain he spent in the garden.

Even gray days pleased him.

He would lie on the grass,

Watching things grow.

If you watched long enough,

He declared,

You could see buds unsheathe themselves.

Also,

You could make the acquaintance of strange,

Busy insects running about on various unknown but evidently serious errands,

Sometimes carrying tiny scraps of straw or feather or food or climbing blades of grass as if they were trees from whose tops one could look out and explore the country.

A mole throwing up its mound at the end of the burrow and making its way out at last with the long-nailed paws,

Which looked so like elfish hands,

Had absorbed him one whole morning.

Ants ways,

Beetles ways,

Bees ways,

Frogs ways,

Birds ways,

Plants ways gave him a new world to explore.

And when Dickon revealed them all and added foxes ways,

Otters ways,

Ferrets ways,

Squirrels ways,

Trout,

Water rats,

And badger ways,

There was no end to the things to talk about and think over.

And this was not half of the magic.

The fact that he had really once stood on his feet and set Colin thinking tremendously,

And when Mary told him of the spell she had worked,

He was excited and approved of it greatly.

He talked of it constantly.

Of course,

There must be lots of magic in the world,

He said wisely one day,

But people don't know what it is like or how to make it.

Perhaps the beginning is just to say nice things are going to happen until you make them happen.

I'm going to try and experiment.

The next morning,

When they went to the secret garden,

He sent at once for Ben Weatherstaff.

Ben came as quickly as he could and found the Rajah standing on his feet under the tree and looking very grand,

But also very beautifully smiling.

Good morning,

Ben Weatherstaff,

He said.

I want you and Dickon and Miss Mary to stand in a row and listen to me,

Because I'm going to tell you something very important.

Aye,

Aye,

Sir,

Answered Ben Weatherstaff,

Touching his forehead.

I am going to try a scientific experiment,

Explained the Rajah.

When I grow up,

I am going to make great scientific discoveries,

And I am going to begin now with an experiment.

Aye,

Aye,

Sir,

Said Ben.

It was the first time Mary had heard of them either,

But even at this stage she had begun to realize that,

Queer as he was,

Colin had read about a great many singular things and was somehow a very convincing sort of boy.

When he held up his head and fixed his strange eyes on you,

It seemed as if you believed him,

Almost in spite of yourself,

Although he was only ten years old.

Going on eleven.

At this moment he was especially convincing,

Because he suddenly felt the fascination of actually making a sort of speech like a grown-up person.

The great scientific discoveries I am going to make,

He went on,

Will be about magic.

Magic is a great thing,

And scarcely anyone knows anything about it except a few people in old books.

And Mary a little,

Because she was born in India.

I believe Dickon knows some magic,

But perhaps he doesn't know he knows it.

He charms animals and people.

I would never have let him come to see me if he had not been an animal charmer.

Which is a boy charmer too,

Because a boy is an animal.

I am sure there is magic in everything,

Only we have not sense enough to get hold of it and make it do things for us,

Like electricity and horses and steam.

This sounded so imposing that Ben Weatherstaff became quite excited and really could not keep still.

Aye,

Aye,

Sir,

He said,

And he began to stand quite straight up.

When Mary found this garden it looked quite dead.

The orator proceeded.

Then something began pushing things up out of the soil and making things out of nothing.

One day things weren't there,

And another there were.

I had never watched things before,

And it made me feel very curious.

Scientific people are always curious,

And I am going to be scientific.

I keep saying to myself,

What is it,

What is it,

It's something,

It can't be nothing.

I don't know its name,

So I'll call it magic.

I have never seen the sunrise,

But Mary and Dickon have,

And from what they tell me,

I am sure that is magic too.

Something pushes it up and draws it.

Sometimes since I've been in the garden I've looked up at the trees,

At the sky,

And I've had a strange feeling of being happy,

As if something were pushing and drawing in my chest and making me breathe fast.

Magic is always pushing and drawing and making things out of nothing.

Everything is made out of magic,

Leaves and trees,

Flowers and birds,

Badgers and foxes and squirrels and people,

So it must be all around us,

In this garden,

In all the places.

The magic in this garden has made me stand up and know I am going to live to be a man.

I am going to make this scientific experiment of trying to get some and put it in myself and make it push and draw me and make me strong.

I don't know how to do it,

But I think that if you can keep thinking about it and calling it perhaps it will come.

Perhaps this is the first baby way to get it.

When I was going to try to stand that first time,

Mary kept saying to herself as fast as she could,

You can do it,

You can do it,

And I did.

I had to try myself at the same time,

Of course,

But her magic helped me,

And so did Dickens.

Every morning and evening,

And as often in the daytime as I can remember,

I am going to say,

Magic is in me.

Magic is making me well.

I am going to be as strong as Dickens,

As strong as Dickens,

And you must all do it too.

That's my experiment.

Will you help,

Ben Weatherstaff?

Aye,

Aye,

Sir,

Said Ben Weatherstaff.

Aye,

Aye.

If you keep doing it every day as regularly as soldiers go through drill,

We shall see what will happen and find out if the experiment succeeds.

You learn things by saying them over and over and thinking about them until they stay in your mind forever,

And I think it will be the same with magic.

If you keep calling it to come to you and help you,

It will become part of you,

And it will stay and do things.

I once heard an officer in India tell my mother that there were folks who said words over and over,

Thousands of times,

Said Mary.

I have heard Jem Fetelworth's wife say the same thing over thousands and thousands of times,

Calling Jem a drunken brute,

Said Ben Weatherstaff dryly.

Some of us come of that,

Sure enough.

He gave her a good hiding and went to the Blue Lion and got as drunk as the Lord.

Colin drew his brows together and thought a few minutes.

Then he cheered up.

Well,

He said,

You see,

Something did come of it.

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 gotten drunk as the Lord,

And perhaps,

Maybe perhaps he would have bought her a new bonnet.

Ben Weatherstaff chuckled,

And there was a shrewd admiration in his little old eyes.

Thart a clever lad as well as a straight-legged one,

Messed her call,

And he said,

Next time I see Bess Fetelworth,

I'll give her a bit of hint of magic.

She'll be rare and pleased to see if the experiment worked.

And so would her husband.

Dickon had stood listening to the lecture,

His round eyes shining with curious delight.

Nut and shell were on his shoulders,

And he held a long-eared white rabbit in his arm,

And stroked and stroked it softly while it laid its ears along its back and enjoyed itself.

Do you think the experiment will work?

Colin asked him,

Wondering what he was thinking.

He so often wondered what Dickon was thinking when he saw him looking at him or one of his creatures with his happy wide smile.

He smiled now,

And his smile was wider than usual.

Aye,

He answered,

That I do.

Shall us begin the work now?

Colin was delighted,

And so was Mary,

Fired by recollections and devotees and illustrations.

Colin suggested that they should all sit cross-legged under the tree,

Which made a canopy.

It will be like sitting in a sort of a temple,

Said Colin.

I'm rather tired,

And I want to sit down.

Aye,

Said Dickon,

The mustn't begin saying they're tired.

The might spoil the magic.

Colin turned and looked at him,

Into his innocent round eyes.

That's true,

He said slowly.

I must only think of the magic.

It all seemed most majestic and mysterious when they sat down in their circle.

Ben Weatherstaff felt as if he had somehow been led into appearing at a prayer meeting.

The creatures have come,

Colin gravely said.

They want to help us.

It looks as though the fox and the squirrel and the lamb had all joined them.

Colin really looked quite beautiful,

Mary thought.

He held his head high,

As he felt like he was sort of a priest,

And his strange eyes had a wonderful look in them.

The light shone on him through the tree canopy.

Now we will begin,

He said.

Shall we sway backward and forward?

I cannot do any swaying,

Said Ben Weatherstaff.

I've got the rheumatics.

The magic will take them away,

Said Colin in a high priest tone.

But we won't sway until it has done it.

We will only chant.

I cannot do no chanting,

Said Ben Weatherstaff.

They turned me out of the church choir.

The only time I ever tried.

No one smiled.

They were all too much and earnest.

Colin's face was not even crossed by a shadow.

He was thinking only of the magic.

Then I will chant,

He said.

And he began,

Looking like a strange boy spirit.

The sun is shining.

The sun is shining.

That is the magic.

The flowers are growing.

The roots are stirring.

That is the magic.

Believe me.

Is the magic.

Being alive is the magic.

Being strong is the magic.

The magic is in me.

The magic is in me.

It is in me.

It is in me.

It's in every one of us.

It's in Ben Weatherstaff's back.

Magic,

Magic,

Come and help.

He said it a great many times.

Not a thousand times,

But quite a goodly number.

Mary listened in trance.

She felt as if she were at once queer and beautiful,

And she wanted him to go on and on.

Ben Weatherstaff began to feel soothed into a dream that was quite agreeable.

The humming of the bees and the blossoms mingled with the chanting voice and drowsily melted into a doze.

Dickon sat cross-legged with his rabbit asleep in his arm and a hand resting on the lamb's back.

Soot had pushed away a squirrel and huddled close to him on the shoulder.

At last Colin stopped.

Now I'm going to walk around the garden,

He answered.

Ben Weatherstaff's head had just dropped forward and he lifted it up with a jerk.

You have been asleep,

Said Colin.

Nothing of the sort.

He was not quite awake yet.

You're not in church,

Said Colin.

Not me,

Said Ben.

Who said I was?

I heard every bit of it.

The Rajah waved his hand.

That was the wrong magic,

He said.

You will get better.

You have my permission to go to your work,

But come back tomorrow.

I'd like to see thee walk around the garden,

Grunted Ben.

It was not an unfriendly grunt,

But it was a grunt.

In fact,

Being a stubborn old party and not having enough faith in magic,

He had made up his mind that if he were sent away he would climb his ladder and look over the wall so he might be ready to hobble back in if there was any stumbling.

The Rajah did not object to his staying,

And so the procession was formed.

It really did look like a procession.

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.

Every few yards it stopped to rest.

Colin leaned on Dickon's arm,

And privately Ben Weatherstaff kept a sharp look out.

And now and then Colin took his hand from its support and walked a few steps alone.

His head was held up all the time,

And he looked very grand.

"'The magic is in me,

' he kept saying.

"'The magic is making me strong.

I can feel it.

I can feel it.

' It seemed very certain that something was holding and uplifting him.

He sat on the seats of the alcoves,

And once or twice he sat on the grass,

And several times he paused in the path and leaned on Dickon,

But he would not give up until he had gone all around the garden.

When he returned to the canopy tree,

His cheeks were flushed and he looked triumphant.

"'I did it.

The magic worked,

' he cried.

"'This is my first scientific discovery.

' "'What will Dr.

Craven say broke out Mary?

' "'He won't say anything,

' Colin answered,

Because he will not be told.

"'This is to be the biggest secret of all.

No one is to know anything about it until I have grown so strong that I can walk and run like any other boy.

I shall come here every day in my chair,

And I shall be taken back in.

I won't have people whispering and asking questions,

And I won't let my father hear about it until my experiment has quite succeeded.

Then,

Some time,

When he comes back to Misslewaithe,

I shall just walk into his study and say,

"'Here I am.

I am like any other boy.

I am quite well,

And I shall live to be a man.

It has been done by a scientific experiment.

' "'He will think he is in a dream,

' cried Mary.

He won't believe his eyes.

' When flushed triumphantly,

He had made himself believe that he was going to get well,

Which was really more than half the battle,

If he had been aware of it,

And the thought which stimulated him more than any other was this imagining what his father would look like when he saw that he had a son who was as straight and strong as other father's sons.

One of his darkest miseries in the unhealthy morbid past had been his hatred of being a sickly weak-backed boy whose father was afraid to look at him.

"'He'll be obliged to believe them,

' he said.

"'One of the things I'm going to do after the magic works and before I begin to make scientific discoveries is to be an athlete.

' "'We shall have thee taken to boxing in a week or so,

' said Ben Weatherstaff.

"'That'll end with winnin' the belt and bein' champion prize-fighter of all of England.

' Colin fixed his eyes on him sternly.

"'Weatherstaff,

' he said,

"'that is disrespectful.

You must not take liberties because you are in the secret.

However,

Much the magic works,

I shall not be a prize-fighter.

I shall be a scientific discoverer.

' "'Pardon,

Pardon,

Sir,

' answered Ben,

Touching his forehead in salute.

"'I ought to have seen it wasn't a joking matter.

' But his eyes twinkled,

And secretly he was immensely pleased.

He really did not mind being snubbed,

Since the snubbing meant that the lad was gaining strength and spirit.

" And this is the end of our sleep story this evening.

Until next time,

Sweet dreams.