What for, i Mercy s name? asked Mrs. Sowerby.
Dickon chuckled.
He does it to keep them from guessin what s happened. If the doctor
knew he d found out he could stand on his feet he d likely write and
tell Mester Craven. Mester Colin s savin th secret to tell himself.
He s goin to practise his Magic on his legs every day till his father
comes back an then he s goin to march into his room an show him he s
as straight as other lads. But him an Miss Mary thinks it s best plan
to do a bit o groanin an frettin now an then to throw folk off th
scent.
Mrs. Sowerby was laughing a low comfortable laugh long before he had
finished his last sentence.
Eh! she said, that pair s enjoyin theirselves I ll warrant. They ll
get a good bit o actin out of it an there s nothin children likes
as much as play actin . Let s hear what they do, Dickon lad.
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.
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