cottage way that at last she was told about the Magic.
Do you believe in Magic? asked Colin after he had explained about
Indian fakirs. I do hope you do.
That I do, lad, she answered. I never knowed it by that name but
what does th name matter? I warrant they call it a different name i
France an a different one i Germany. Th same thing as set th seeds
swellin an th sun shinin made thee a well lad an it s th Good
Thing. It isn t like us poor fools as think it matters if us is called
out of our names. Th Big Good Thing doesn t stop to worrit, bless
thee. It goes on makin worlds by th million worlds like us. Never
thee stop believin in th Big Good Thing an knowin th world s full
of it an call it what tha likes. Tha wert singin to it when I come
into th garden.
I felt so joyful, said Colin, opening his beautiful strange eyes at
her. Suddenly I felt how different I was how strong my arms and legs
were, you know and how I could dig and stand and I jumped up and wanted
to shout out something to anything that would listen.
Th Magic listened when tha sung th Doxology. It would ha listened
to anything tha d sung. It was th joy that mattered. Eh! lad,
lad what s names to th Joy Maker, and she gave his shoulders a quick
soft pat again.
She had packed a basket which held a regular feast this morning, and
when the hungry hour came and Dickon brought it out from its hiding
place, she sat down with them under their tree and watched them devour
their food, laughing and quite gloating over their appetites. She was
full of fun and made them laugh at all sorts of odd things. She told
them stories in broad Yorkshire and taught them new words. She laughed
as if she could not help it when they told her of the increasing
difficulty there was in pretending that Colin was still a fretful
invalid.
You see we can t help laughing nearly all the time when we are
together, explained Colin. And it doesn t sound ill at all. We try to
choke it back but it will burst out and that sounds worse than ever.
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