same as other folk -- an' tha' said tha'd have me
diggin'. I thowt tha' was just leein' to please
me. This is only th' first day an' I've walked -- an'
here I am diggin'."

Ben Weatherstaff's mouth fell open again when
he heard him, but he ended by chuckling.

"Eh!" he said, "that sounds as if tha'd got
wits enow. Tha'rt a Yorkshire lad for sure.
An' tha'rt diggin', too. How'd tha' like to plant
a bit o' somethin'? I can get thee a rose in a pot."

"Go and get it!" said Colin, digging excitedly.
"Quick! Quick!"

It was done quickly enough indeed. Ben
Weatherstaff went his way forgetting 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 quite -- quite
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

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v?