CHAPTER NINE

BEHIND THE GARDEN WALLS

Mary couldn't imagine a more wonderful place than the secret garden. It seemed that the garden's owner had loved roses, for the garden was filled with many rose bushes and rose vines. They looked brown, dry, and dead, however. So did the grass. The rose vines dropped onto the trees like curtains. "If this garden were green, how many roses there would be!" thought Mary. "How still and quiet it is here!"

The robin was sitting on a tree in the garden. He didn't sing anymore; he only looked at Mary, as if to see what she would do next.

"Of course it's quiet," whispered Mary to herself. "I'm the only person who's been in here for ten years."

She began to explore the garden. "I wonder if all these trees and plants are really dead," she thought. "Is this a dead garden? Oh, I wish it wasn't! Just think how many roses there would be, if this garden were alive!"

If Mary had been a gardener, like Ben Weatherstaff, she would have been able to tell whether a plant was dead or not. But she wasn't—all she saw were many brown and gray trees, vines, and bushes. They certainly looked dead. But suddenly Mary gave a little cry. In one corner of the garden there was a patch of black dirt. In the dirt were tiny green plants! Mary remembered what Ben Weatherstaff had said. She bent down to look at them.

"Yes, they're tiny green growing things. They might be little flowers, like Ben said. So it isn't a completely dead garden. Even if the poor roses are dead, there are other things that are alive!" she said softly. She felt extremely happy. She went around the garden to see if there were more tiny green plants. Happily, they were everywhere.

It seemed to Mary that the little plants didn't have room to grow, because of the dead grass all around them. The grass seemed to be choking the plants. She found a sharp stick and dug up the dead grass until there were clear spaces around a few of the plants. "There, now you have some room to breathe in," she said. "I'm going to help as many of these plants as I can today. Then I'll come back tomorrow and the next day and do more," she said. She was very happy with this idea.

Mary went from place to place. She removed dead grass and weeds from around the little green plants. How happy she was! She soon became very warm, and took off her coat. She breathed in the smell of the fresh black soil. She didn't realize that she was smiling as she worked. The little plants looked so much better when they didn't have all that dead grass around them!

The robin was watching Mary with great interest. He was very pleased to see someone working in his garden at last!

Mary worked in the garden until it was time for lunch. She had worked for three hours, but the time had passed quickly. "I'll return right after lunch," she said. She spoke to the trees and bushes, as if they might hear her.

Quickly and quietly she opened the old door, and then closed it. She made sure to hide the door behind the vines. Then she returned to the house.

At lunch Mary ate two plates of food, she was so hungry. Martha was happy. "Won't mother be pleased when she finds out!" she said.

"Martha," said Mary, "do you know anything about growing flowers?"

"Not much," said Martha. "But Dickon does. Oh! He's got so many flowers planted in his garden. He can make a flower grow out of a brick wall. Mother says he just whispers to things, and they grow."

"Do roots under the ground live a long time? I mean, would they live years and years, even if no one helped them?" asked Mary.

"Some do. Those flowers that have special roots, called bulbs, can live a long time with no help. That's why poor people like us can grow them! Dickon has lots of bulb flowers in his garden, like daffodils and snowdrops."

Mary was finished with her lunch. She went and sat by the fire. "I wish I had some little garden tools," she said slowly.

"What do you want those for?" asked Martha, smiling.

Mary thought carefully. The hidden garden must remain a secret. If she told anyone, Mr Craven might find out. Then he would be terribly angry and get a new key made and lock the garden up forever.

"Well, this is such a big lonely house. I have no one to play with, and you and Ben Weatherstaff have to do your work. If I had some little garden tools, I could make a garden, if Ben would give me some seeds."

Martha said, "Well, I'm amazed! Mother said the same thing to me. She said, 'There's so much land in that place. Why don't they give her a little land for herself? Even if she doesn't plant anything but herbs, she'd enjoy herself!' Those were the words she said."

"Your mother knows a lot of things, doesn't she?" asked Mary.

"Oh, yes!" said Martha. "Mother says, 'A woman who brings up twelve children learns something besides her letters!'"

"How much would some garden tools cost?" asked Mary.

"There's a little shop in the village that sells them. There's a set of tools that has a little rake, a fork, and a spade all tied together. The set costs only a few coins, I think. Now I have an idea! The shop also sells bags of flower seeds for a penny each. Our Dickon knows which flowers to plant and how to make them grow, like I told you. Do you know how to write?" she asked.

"Of course!" said Mary.

"If you can write, we could send a letter to him. I could ask him to go and buy you some seeds and garden tools."

"Oh, you're a nice girl!" cried Mary. "You really are. You tell me what to write, and I'll write it."

"I'll go and get a pen and paper!" said Martha, and left the room. Mary waited anxiously.

"If I have some seeds and tools," she whispered to herself, "I can try to make the secret garden beautiful again!"

It was a long time before Martha came back, because she had duties to do for Mrs Medlock. When she returned they sat down and worked on the letter. Martha told Mary what she wanted to say, and Mary wrote it. Here is the letter.

My dear Dickon,

I hope you are well, as I am. Will you take this money (it is Miss Mary's) and go and buy her some seeds and garden tools? Pick the seeds that are the easiest to grow, but will make pretty flowers. Miss Mary has never gardened before because she has lived in India, which is different. Give Mother and the others my love. Miss Mary says she will tell me more stories of India, so that when I next return home you can hear about elephants, camels, and gentlemen hunting lions and tigers.

Your loving sister,

Martha Phoebe Sowerby

"Now, we'll put the money in the envelope, and I'll tell the farm boy to take it to Dickon. Dickon will bring the things to you himself," said Martha.

"Oh! I never thought I would meet Dickon," said Mary. "I never saw a boy who animals loved."

Martha thought for a minute. "Do you know, I forgot to tell you something? Mother said she'd ask Mrs Medlock if you could come and visit our cottage some day."

"Really?" cried Mary. She wanted nothing more than to visit the house, which sounded so warm and happy. It seemed as if all good and interesting things were happening that day.

"If I went to your house I would meet your mother as well as Dickon. And your brothers and sisters! I would see the moor and the blue sky," said Mary.

She was beginning to feel sleepy, because of the excitement of the day. She and Martha sat comfortably together in front of the fire until Mary was asleep.

(end of section)