〃Here　he　is；〃　chuckled　the　old　man；　and　then　he　spoke　to　the　bird　as　if　he　were　speaking　to　a　child。
  〃Where　has　tha'　been；　tha'　cheeky　little　beggar？〃　he　said。　　〃I've　not　seen　thee　before　today。　　Has　tha；　begun　tha'　courtin'　this　early　in　th'　season？　Tha'rt　too　forrad。〃
  The　bird　put　his　tiny　head　on　one　side　and　looked　up　at　him　with　his　soft　bright　eye　which　was　like　a　black　dewdrop。　He　seemed　quite　familiar　and　not　the　least　afraid。　He　hopped　about　and　pecked　the　earth　briskly；　looking　for　seeds　and　insects。　　It　actually　gave　Mary　a　queer　feeling　in　her　heart；　because　he　was　so　pretty　and　cheerful　and　seemed　so　like　a　person。　　He　had　a　tiny　plump　body　and　a　delicate　beak；　and　slender　delicate　legs。
  〃Will　he　always　come　when　you　call　him？〃　she　asked　almost　in　a　whisper。
  〃Aye；　that　he　will。　　I've　knowed　him　ever　since　he　was　a　fledgling。　　He　come　out　of　th'　nest　in　th'　other　garden　an'　when　first　he　flew　over　th'　wall　he　was　too　weak　to　fly　back　for　a　few　days　an'　we　got　friendly。　　When　he　went　over　th'　wall　again　th'　rest　of　th'　brood　was　gone　an'　he　was　lonely　an'　he　come　back　to　me。〃
  〃What　kind　of　a　bird　is　he？〃　Mary　asked。
  〃Doesn't　tha'　know？　He's　a　robin　redbreast　an'　they're　th'　friendliest；　curiousest　birds　alive。　They're　almost　as　friendly　as　dogsif　you　know　how　to　get　on　with　'em。　Watch　him　peckin'　about　there　an'　lookin'　round　at　us　now　an'　again。　　He　knows　we're　talkin'　about　him。〃
  It　was　the　queerest　thing　in　the　world　to　see　the　old　fellow。　He　looked　at　the　plump　little　scarlet…waistcoated　bird　as　if　he　were　both　proud　and　fond　of　him。
  〃He's　a　conceited　one；〃　he　chuckled。　　〃He　likes　to　hear　folk　talk　about　him。　　An'　curiousbless　me；　there　never　was　his　like　for　curiosity　an'　meddlin'。　He's　always　comin'　to　see　what　I'm　plantin'。　He　knows　all　th'　things　Mester　Craven　never　troubles　hissel'　to　find　out。　　He's　th'　head　gardener；　he　is。〃
  The　robin　hopped　about　busily　pecking　the　soil　and　now　and　then　stopped　and　looked　at　them　a　little。　　Mary　thought　his　black　dewdrop　eyes　gazed　at　her　with　great　curiosity。　It　really　seemed　as　if　he　were　finding　out　all　about　her。　The　queer　feeling　in　her　heart　increased。　　〃Where　did　the　rest　of　the　brood　fly　to？〃　she　asked。
  〃There's　no　knowin'。　The　old　ones　turn　'em　out　o'　their　nest　an'　make　'em　fly　an'　they're　scattered　before　you　know　it。　This　one　was　a　knowin'　one　an；　he　knew　he　was　lonely。〃
  Mistress　Mary　went　a　step　nearer　to　the　robin　and　looked　at　him　very　hard。
  〃I'm　lonely；〃　she　said。
  She　had　not　known　before　that　this　was　one　of　the　things　which　made　her　feel　sour　and　cross。　　She　seemed　to　find　it　out　when　the　robin　looked　at　her　and　she　looked　at　the　robin。
  The　old　gardener　pushed　his　cap　back　on　his　bald　head　and　stared　at　her　a　minute。
  〃Art　tha'　th'　little　wench　from　India？〃　he　asked。
  Mary　nodded。
  〃Then　no　wonder　tha'rt　lonely。　　Tha'lt　be　lonlier　before　tha's　done；〃　he　said。
  He　began　to　dig　again；　driving　his　spade　deep　into　the　rich　black　garden　soil　while　the　robin　hopped　about　very　busily　employed。
  〃What　is　your　name？〃　Mary　inquired。
  He　stood　up　to　answer　her。
  〃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。〃
  It　is　a　Yorkshire　habit　to　say　what　you　think　with　blunt　frankness；　and　old　Ben　Weatherstaff　was　a　Yorkshire　moor　man。
  〃Tha'　an'　me　are　a　good　bit　alike；〃　he　said。　〃We　was　wove　out　of　th'　same　cloth。　　We're　neither　of　us　good　lookin'　an'　we're　both　of　us　as　sour　as　we　look。　We've　got　the　same　nasty　tempers；　both　of　us；　I'll　warrant。〃
  This　was　plain　speaking；　and　Mary　Lennox　had　never　heard　the　truth　about　herself　in　her　life。　　Native　servants　always　salaamed　and　submitted　to　you；　whatever　you　did。　She　had　never　thought　much　about　her　looks；　but　she　wondered　if　she　was　as　unattractive　as　Ben　Weatherstaff　and　she　also　wondered　if　she　looked　as　sour　as　he　had　looked　before　the　robin　came。　　She　actually　began　to　wonder　also　if　she　was　〃nasty　tempered。〃　She　felt　uncomfortable。
  Suddenly　a　clear　rippling　little　sound　broke　out　near　her　and　she　turned　round。　　She　was　standing　a　few　feet　from　a　young　apple…tree　and　the　robin　had　flown　on　to　one　of　its　branches　and　had　burst　out　into　a　scrap　of　a　song。　Ben　Weatherstaff　laughed　outright。
  〃What　did　he　do　that　for？〃　asked　Mary。
  〃He's　made　up　his　mind　to　make　friends　with　thee；〃　replied　Ben。　　〃Dang　me　if　he　hasn't　took　a　fancy　to　thee。〃
  〃To　me？〃　said　Mary；　and　she　moved　toward　the　little　tree　softly　and　looked　up。
  〃Would　you　make　friends　with　me？〃　she　said　to　the　robin　just　as　if　she　was　speaking　to　a　person。　　〃Would　you？〃　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。〃
  〃Do　you　know　Dickon？〃　Mary　asked；　turning　round　rather　in　a　hurry。
  〃Everybody　knows　him。　　Dickon's　wanderin'　about　everywhere。　Th'　very　blackberries　an'　heather…bells　knows　him。　I　warrant　th'　foxes　shows　him　where　their　cubs　lies　an'　th'　skylarks　doesn't　hide　their　nests　from　him。〃
  Mary　would　have　liked　to　ask　some　more　questions。　She　was　almost　as　curious　about　Dickon　as　she　was　about　the　deserted　garden。　　But　just　that　moment　the　robin；　who　had　ended　his　song；　gave　a　little　shake　of　his　wings；　spread　them　and　flew　away。　　He　had　made　his　visit　and　had　other　things　to　do。
  〃He　has　flown　over　the　wall！〃　Mary　cried　out；　watching　him。　〃He　has　flown　into　the　orchardhe　has　flown　across　the　other　wallinto　the　garden　where　there　is　no　door！〃
  〃He　lives　there；〃　said　old　Ben。　　〃He　came　out　o'　th'　egg　there。　If　he's　courtin'；　he's　makin'　up　to　some　young　madam　of　a　robin　that　lives　among　th'　old　rose…trees　there。〃
  〃Rose…trees；〃　said　Mary。　　〃Are　there　rose…trees？〃
  Ben　Weatherstaff　took　up　his　spade　again　and　began　to　dig。
  〃There　was　ten　year'　ago；〃　he　mumbled。
  〃I　should　like　to　see　them；〃　said　Mary。　　〃Where　is　the　green　door？　There　must　be　a　door　somewhere。〃
  Ben　drove　his　spade　deep　and　looked　as　uncompanionable　as　he　had　looked　when　she　first　saw　him。
  〃There　was　ten　year'　ago；　but　there　isn't　now；〃　he　said。
  〃No　door！〃　cried　Mary。　　〃There　must　be。〃　〃None　as　any　one　can　find；　an'　none　as　is　any　one's　business。　Don't　you　be　a　meddlesome　wench　an'　poke　your　nose　where　it's　no　cause　to　go。　　Here；　I　must　go　on　with　my　work。　Get　you　gone　an'　play　you。　　I've　no　more　time。〃
  And　he　actually　stopped　digging；　threw　his　spade　over　his　shoulder　and　walked　off；　without　even　glancing　at　her　or　saying　good…by。
  CHAPTER　V
  THE　CRY　IN　THE　CORRIDOR
  At　first　each　day　which　passed　by　for　Mary　Lennox　was　exactly　like　the　others。　　Every　morning　she　awoke　in　her　tapestried　room　and　found　Martha　kneeling　upon　the　hearth　building　her　fire；　every　morning　she　ate　her　breakfast　in　the　nursery　which　had　nothing　amusing　in　it；　and　after　each　breakfast　she　gazed　out　of　the　window　across　to　the　huge　moor　which　seemed　to　spread　out　on　all　sides　and　climb　up　to　the　sky；　and　after　she　had　stared　for　a　while　she　realized　that　if　she　did　not　go　out　she　would　have　to　stay　in　and　do　nothingand　so　she　went　out。　She　did　not　know　that　this　was　the　best　thing　she　could　have　done；　and　she　did　not　know　that；　when　she　began　to　walk　quickly　or　even　run　along　the　paths　and　down　the　avenue；　she　was　stirring　her　slow　blood　and　making　herself　stronger　by　fighting　with　the　wind　which　swept　down　from　the　moor。　She　ran　only　to　make　herself　warm；　and　she　hated　the　wind　which　rushed　at　her　face　and　roared　and　held　her　back　as　if　it　were　some　giant　she　could　not　see。　　But　the　big　breaths　of　rough　fresh　air　blown　over　the　heather　filled　her　lungs　with　something　which　was　good　for　her　whole　thin　body　and　whipped　some　red　color　into　her　cheeks　and　brightened　her　dull　eyes　when　she　did　not　know　anything　about　it。
  But　after　a　few　days　spent　almost　entirely　out　of　doors　she　wakened　one　morning　knowing　what　it　was　to　be　hungry；　and　when　she　sat　down　to　her　breakfast　she　did　not　glance　disdainfully　at　her　porridge　and　push　it　away；　but　took　up　her　spoon　and　began　to　eat　it　and　went　on　eating　it　until　her　bowl　was　empty。
  〃Tha'　got　on　well　enough　with　that　this　mornin'；　didn't　tha'？〃　said　Martha。
  〃It　tastes　nice　today；〃　said　Mary；　feeling　a　little　surprised　her　self。
  〃It's　th'　air　of　th'　moor　that's　givin'　thee　stomach　for　tha'　victuals；〃　answered　Martha。　　〃It's　lucky　for　thee　that　tha's　got　victuals　as　well　as　appetite。　There's　been　twelve　in　our　cottage　as　had　th'　stomach　an'　nothin'　to　put　in　it。　　You　go　on　playin'　you　out　o'　doors　every　day　an'　you'll　get　some　flesh　on　your　bones　an'　you　won't　be　so　yeller。〃
  〃I　don't　play；〃　said　Mary。　　〃I　have　nothing　to　play　with。〃
  〃Nothin'　to　play　with！〃　exclaimed　Martha。　　〃Our　children　plays　with　sticks　and　stones。　　They　just　runs　about　an'　shouts　an'　loo