Dickon stopped weeding and sat up on his heels
to tell her. His eyes were twinkling with fun.

"Mester Colin is carried down to his chair
every time he goes out," he explained. "An' he
flies out at John, th' footman, for not carryin'
him careful enough. He makes himself as helpless
lookin' as he can an' never lifts his head until
we're out o' sight o' th' house. An' he grunts
an' frets a good bit when he's bein' settled into
his chair. Him an' Miss Mary's both got to
enjoyin' it an' when he groans an' complains she'll
say, 'Poor Colin! Does it hurt you so much?
Are you so weak as that, poor Colin?' -- but th'
trouble is that sometimes they can scarce keep
from burstin' out laughin'. When we get safe
into the garden they laugh till they've no breath
left to laugh with. An' they have to stuff their
faces into Mester Colin's cushions to keep the
gardeners from hearin', if any of 'em's about."

"Th' more they laugh th' better for 'em!"
said Mrs. Sowerby, still laughing herself. "Good
healthy child laughin's better than pills any day
o' th' year. That pair'll plump up for sure."

"They are plumpin' up," said Dickon.
"They're that hungry they don't know how to
get enough to eat without makin' talk. Mester
Colin says if he keeps sendin' for more food they
won't believe he's an invalid at all. Miss Mary

[[314]]

p313 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p314w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p315

v?