One of the strange things about living in the world isthat it is only now and then one is quite sure one isgoing to live forever and ever and ever. One knows itsometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn-timeand goes out and stands alone and throws one's head farback and looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowlychanging and flushing and marvelous unknown things happeninguntil the East almost makes one cry out and one's heartstands still at the strange unchanging majesty of therising of the sun--which has been happening every morningfor thousands and thousands and thousands of years.

　　One knows it then for a moment or so. And one knows itsometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunsetand the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting through andunder the branches seems to be saying slowly again and againsomething one cannot quite hear, however much one tries.

　　Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at nightwith millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure;and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true;and sometimes a look in some one's eyes.

　　And it was like that with Colin when he first saw andheard and felt the Springtime inside the four high wallsof a hidden garden. That afternoon the whole worldseemed to devote itself to being perfect and radiantlybeautiful and kind to one boy. Perhaps out of pureheavenly goodness the spring came and crowned everythingit possibly could into that one place. More than onceDickon paused in what he was doing and stood still witha sort of growing wonder in his eyes, shaking his head softly.

　　"Eh! it is graidely," he said. "I'm twelve goin'

　　on thirteen an' there's a lot o' afternoons in thirteen years,but seems to me like I never seed one as graidely as this'ere.""Aye, it is a graidely one," said Mary, and she sighedfor mere joy. "I'll warrant it's the graidelest oneas ever was in this world.""Does tha' think," said Colin with dreamy carefulness,"as happen it was made loike this 'ere all o' purpose for me?""My word!" cried Mary admiringly, "that there is a bit o'

　　good Yorkshire. Tha'rt shapin' first-rate--that tha' art."And delight reigned. They drew the chair under the plum-tree,which was snow-white with blossoms and musical with bees.

　　It was like a king's canopy, a fairy king's. There wereflowering cherry-trees near and apple-trees whose budswere pink and white, and here and there one had burstopen wide. Between the blossoming branches of the canopybits of blue sky looked down like wonderful eyes.

　　Mary and Dickon worked a litle here and there and Colinwatched them. They brought him things to look at--budswhich were opening, buds which were tight closed,bits of twig whose leaves were just showing green,the feather of a woodpecker which had dropped onthe grass, the empty shell of some bird early hatched.

　　Dickon pushed the chair slowly round and round the garden,stopping every other moment to let him look at wondersspringing out of the earth or trailing down from trees.

　　It was like being taken in state round the country of amagic king and queen and shown all the mysterious richesit contained.

　　"I wonder if we shall see the robin?" said Colin.

　　"Tha'll see him often enow after a bit," answered Dickon.

　　"When th' eggs hatches out th' little chap he'll be kep'

　　so busy it'll make his head swim. Tha'll see him flyin'

　　backward an' for'ard carryin' worms nigh as big as himsel'

　　an' that much noise goin' on in th' nest when he getsthere as fair flusters him so as he scarce knows which bigmouth to drop th' first piece in. An' gapin' beaks an'

　　squawks on every side. Mother says as when she sees th'

　　work a robin has to keep them gapin' beaks filled,she feels like she was a lady with nothin' to do.

　　She says she's seen th' little chaps when it seemed like th'

　　sweat must be droppin' off 'em, though folk can't see it."This made them giggle so delightedly that they were obligedto cover their mouths with their hands, remembering thatthey must not be heard. Colin had been instructed as tothe law of whispers and low voices several days before.

　　He liked the mysteriousness of it and did his best,but in the midst of excited enjoyment it is ratherdifficult never to laugh above a whisper.

　　Every moment of the afternoon was full of new thingsand every hour the sunshine grew more golden. The wheeledchair had been drawn back under the canopy and Dickonhad sat down on the grass and had just drawn out his pipewhen Colin saw something he had not had time to notice before.

　　"That's a very old tree over there, isn't it?" he said.

　　Dickon looked across the grass at the tree and Mary lookedand there was a brief moment of stillness.

　　"Yes," answered Dickon, after it, and his low voicehad a very gentle sound.

　　Mary gazed at the tree and thought.

　　"The branches are quite gray and there's not a singleleaf anywhere," Colin went on. "It's quite dead,isn't it?""Aye," admitted Dickon. "But them roses as has climbedall over it will near hide every bit o' th' dead woodwhen they're full o' leaves an' flowers. It won't lookdead then. It'll be th' prettiest of all."Mary still gazed at the tree and thought.

　　"It looks as if a big branch had been broken off,"said Colin. "I wonder how it was done.""It's been done many a year," answered Dickon. "Eh!" witha sudden relieved start and laying his hand on Colin.

　　"Look at that robin! There he is! He's been foragin'

　　for his mate."Colin was almost too late but he just caught sight of him,the flash of red-breasted bird with something in his beak.

　　He darted through the greenness and into the close-growncorner and was out of sight. Colin leaned back on hiscushion again, laughing a little. "He's taking her teato her. Perhaps it's five o'clock. I think I'd like sometea myself."And so they were safe.

　　"It was Magic which sent the robin," said Mary secretlyto Dickon afterward. "I know it was Magic." For both sheand Dickon had been afraid Colin might ask somethingabout the tree whose branch had broken off ten yearsago and they had talked it over together and Dickonhad stood and rubbed his head in a troubled way.

　　"We mun look as if it wasn't no different from th'

　　other trees," he had said. "We couldn't never tell himhow it broke, poor lad. If he says anything about it wemun--we mun try to look cheerful.""Aye, that we mun," had answered Mary.

　　But she had not felt as if she looked cheerful when she gazedat the tree. She wondered and wondered in those few momentsif there was any reality in that other thing Dickon had said.

　　He had gone on rubbing his rust-red hair in a puzzled way,but a nice comforted look had begun to grow in his blue eyes.

　　"Mrs. Craven was a very lovely young lady," he hadgone on rather hesitatingly. "An' mother she thinksmaybe she's about Misselthwaite many a time lookin'

　　after Mester Colin, same as all mothers do when they'retook out o' th' world. They have to come back,tha' sees. Happen she's been in the garden an'

　　happen it was her set us to work, an' told us to bring him here."Mary had thought he meant something about Magic.

　　She was a great believer in Magic. Secretly she quitebelieved that Dickon worked Magic, of course good Magic,on everything near him and that was why people liked himso much and wild creatures knew he was their friend.

　　She wondered, indeed, if it were not possible that hisgift had brought the robin just at the right momentwhen Colin asked that dangerous question. She feltthat his Magic was working all the afternoon and makingColin look like an entirely different boy. It did notseem possible that he could be the crazy creature who hadscreamed and beaten and bitten his pillow. Even his ivorywhiteness seemed to change. The faint glow of colorwhich had shown on his face and neck and hands when hefirst got inside the garden really never quite died away.

　　He looked as if he were made of flesh instead of ivoryor wax.

　　They saw the robin carry food to his mate two or three times,and it was so suggestive of afternoon tea that Colinfelt they must have some.

　　"Go and make one of the men servants bring some in abasket to the rhododendron walk," he said. "And thenyou and Dickon can bring it here."It was an agreeable idea, easily carried out, and whenthe white cloth was spread upon the grass, with hot teaand buttered toast and crumpets, a delightfully hungrymeal was eaten, and several birds on domestic errandspaused to inquire what was going on and were led intoinvestigating crumbs with great activity. Nut and Shellwhisked up trees with pieces of cake and Soot took theentire half of a buttered crumpet into a corner and peckedat and examined and turned it over and made hoarse remarksabout it until he decided to swallow it all joyfully in one gulp.

　　The afternoon was dragging towards its mellow hour.

　　The sun was deepening the gold of its lances, the beeswere g............