We're coming to the end of our story tonight, and we would love to know what you would like to hear next. Head to our website, sleepybookshelf.com, or click the link in the show notes and submit your vote. I think we can all agree that the world is often distracting and noisy. It can be hard to focus with so many things buzzing around us, whether it's loud co-workers or barking dogs. All of this high energy noise can make us stressed out and overstimulated.
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To redeem your free bonus, just go to deepsleepsounds.com forward slash bookshelf. That's deepsleepsounds.com forward slash bookshelf. Good evening and welcome to the Sleepy Bookshelf where we put down our worries from the day and pick up a good book. I'm your host Elizabeth. It's wonderful to have you here this evening. Because tonight we are continuing with the secret garden. But first, let's take a moment to prepare the sleep. Focus on allowing every muscle in your face to relax.
Start by releasing tension in your forehead. Let your eyebrows feel like they're sliding down the sides of your face. Let your lips relax and part naturally. Let your tongue fall from the roof of your mouth and finally unclench your jaw. Drop your shoulders to release the tension and let your arms hang or sink down beside you. Feel the weight of gravity pulling and supporting you as you breathe in through your nose and exhale completely. Relaxing your chest and your stomach.
Now stay calm and still while I recap our last episode. Mary was woken in the middle of the night to torrents of rain falling on the windows and the wind whipping or weathering around missile-thwaite mana. She couldn't sleep because she was so angry that if the rain kept on the next day, she might not be able to visit the garden. As she lay unable to sleep, she began to hear that same faint crying over the sound of the wind that she had heard before.
She took her candle and a woolen wrap and went to find the source. When she pushed open the door behind the tapestry she had been to before. She found herself in a large ornate room with a big four-post-a-bed. Lying on the bed was a pale looking little boy about her age. His name was Colin. He was Mr. Craven's son and so Mary's cousin. Neither of them had known about each other. He told her he was ill, never left the house and was not destined to live till adulthood.
He made her tell him everything about her and when she accidentally mentioned the garden, his interest was sparked. She was careful not to divulge too much or say she had found a way in, but she did promise that if he kept it a secret, she would find the door and find a way to get in there. Tonight we pick up the following morning, so just lie back and relax as I turn to the next pages of the secret garden.
Chapter 14 A Young Raja The more was hidden in mist when the morning came and the rain had not stopped pouring down. There could be no going out of doors. Martha was so busy that Mary had no opportunity of talking to her, but in the afternoon she asked her to come and sit with her in the nursery. She came, bringing the stocking she was always knitting when she was doing nothing else. What's the matter with you? She asked as soon as they sat down. The looks as if there's something to say.
I have found out what the crying was, said Mary. Martha let her knitting drop on her knee, engaged at her with startled eyes. She exclaimed, never I heard it in the night, Mary went on and I got up and went to see where it came from. It was calling, I found him. Martha's face became red with fright. He missed Mary. She said half crying. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't. They'll get me in trouble.
I never told them nothing about him, but they'll get me in trouble. I shall lose my place. A model mother do. You won't lose your place, said Mary. He was glad I came. We talked and talked, and he said he was glad I came. Was he? cried Martha. Out the shore. There doesn't know what he's like when anything waxes him. He's a big lad to cry like a baby, but when he's in a passionately fast screen just to frighten us. He knows his don't call our souls our own.
He wasn't waxed, said Mary. I asked him if I should go away and he made me stay. He asked me questions, and I sat on a big foot stall and talked to him about India and about the Robin. And gardens, you wouldn't let me go. You let me see his mother's picture. Before I left him I sang him to sleep. Martha fairly gasped with amazement.
I can scarcely believe thee. She protested. It's as if that walked straight into a lion's den. If you've been like years most times, it'd have thrown himself into one of his tantrums and roused the house. It weren't that strangers look at him. He let me look at him. I looked at him all the time, and he looked at me. We stared. Said Mary. I don't know what to do. Cried agitated Martha. Mrs. Medlock finds out she'll think her brocorders and told thee and I should be packed, packed mother.
He is not going to tell Mrs. Medlock anything about it yet. It's to be a sort of secret just at first. Said Mary, firmly. And he says everybody is obliged to do as he pleases. No, that's true enough. Bad lad. Said Martha, wiping her forehead with her apron. He says Mrs. Medlock must, and he wants me to come and talk to him every day. And you would tell me when he wants me.
Me, said Martha. I shall lose my place. I shall for sure. You can't if you're doing what he wants you to do, and everybody is ordered to obey him. Mary argued. Does the mean to say? Cried Martha with wide open eyes. He was nice to thee. I think he almost liked me. Mary answered. And I must have bewitched him. Decided Martha, drawing a long breath.
Do you mean magic? Inquired Mary. I've had about magic in India, but I can't make it. I just went into his room and I was so surprised to see him. I stood and stared. And then he turned round and stared at me. And he thought I was a ghost or a dream. And I thought perhaps he was. And it was so queer being there, alone together in the middle of the night, and not knowing about each other. And we began to ask each other questions. And when I asked him if I must go away, he said I must not.
The world's come into an end. Gasped Martha. What's the matter with him? Asked Mary. Nobody knows for sure in certain, says Martha. Mr. Craven went off his head like when he was born. Doctors thought it'd have to be put in an asylum. But as because Mrs. Craven died like I told you, he wouldn't set eyes on the baby. He just raved and said it'd be another inch back like him. And it'd better die.
He's calling a hunchback. Mary asked. He doesn't look like one. He isn't yet, said Martha. But he began all wrong. Mother said that there was enough trouble and rage in in-thouce to set any child wrong. There was afraid his back was weak and they've always been taking care of it, keeping him lying down and not letting him walk. Once they made him wear a brace, but he fretted so he was downright ill.
Then a big doctor came to see him and made him take it off. He talked to the other doctor quite rough. In a polite way. He said there'd been too much medicine and too much letting him have his own way. I think he's a very spoiled boy, said Martha, east that worse young now to sever was, said Martha. A word say he hasn't been ill a good bit. He's had coughs and colds that's nearly killed him two or three times.
Once he had rheumatic fever and once he had typhoid, he and Mrs. Medlock did get a fright then. He'd been out of his head and she was talking to that nurse think he didn't know nothing. She said he'll die this time sure enough, best thing for him and everybody. She looked at him and there he was with his big eyes open, staring at her, sensible as she was herself. She didn't know what had happened. He just stared at her and says, you give me some water and stop talking.
Do you think he will die? Asked Mary. Martha says there's no reason why any child should live that gets no fresh air and doesn't do nothing but lie on his back and read picture books and take medicine. He's weak and hates the trouble of being taken out of doors and he gets cold so easy. He says it makes him ill. Mary sat and looked at the fire. I wonder she said slowly. If it would not do him good to go out into a garden and watch things growing, it did me good.
One of the worst fits he ever had said Martha. It was one time they took him out where the roses is by the fountain. He'd been reading in a paper about people getting something he called rose cold and he began to sneeze and said he'd got it. And then a new gardener has didn't know that rose pass by and looked at him curious. He threw himself into a passion and said he'd looked at him because he was going to be onch back. Cried himself into a fever and was ill all night.
If he ever gets angry at me, I'll never go and see him again, said Mary. He loved the if he wants the, said Martha. The may as well as know that at the start. Very soon afterward a bell rang and she rolled up her knitting. To her sith nurse wants me to stay with him a bit, she said, herp is in a good temper. She was out of the room about ten minutes, then she came back with a puzzled expression.
Well, that's bewitched him, she said. He's upon his surfer with his picture books. He's told the nurse to stay away until six o'clock. I'm to wait in that next room. Minut she is gone, he called me to him and says, I want Mary Lanix to come and talk to me. And remember you're not to tell anyone. You'd better go as quick as she can. Mary was quite willing to go quickly. She did not want to see Colin as much as she wanted to see Dickon, but she wanted to see him very much.
There was a bright fire on the hearth when she entered his room. And in the daylight she saw it was a very beautiful room indeed. There were rich colours in the rugs and hangings and pictures and books on the walls which made it look glowing and comfortable, even in spite of the grey sky and falling rain. Colin looked rather like a picture himself. He was wrapped in a velvet dressing gown and sat against a big, brocaded cushion. He had a red spot on each cheek.
Come in, he said, I've been thinking about you all morning. I've been thinking about you too, answered Mary. You don't know how frightened Martha is. She says Mrs. Medlock will think she told me about you and then she will be sent away. You frowned. Go and tell her to come here, he said. She's in the next room. Mary went and brought her back. Poor Martha was shaking in her shoes. Colin was still frowning.
Have you to do what I please or have you not? You demanded. I have to do what you please sir. Martha faulted, turning quite red. Has Medlock to do what I please? Everybody asked sir. Said Martha. Well then, if I order you to bring Miss Mary to me, how can Medlock send you away if she finds out? Please don't let us sir. Pleaded Martha. I'll send her away if she dares to say a word about such a thing. Said Master Craven, grandly. She wouldn't like that I can tell you. Thank you sir.
Bobbinga Katzi. I want to do my duty sir. What I want is your duty. Said Colin more grandly still. I'll take care of you. Now go away. When the door closed behind Martha, Colin found Mistress Mary, gazing at him as if he had set her wondering. Why do you look at me like that? He asked her. Was she thinking about? I'm thinking about two things. What are they? Sit down and tell me. This is the first one. Said Mary, seating herself on the big stool.
Once in India, I saw a boy who was a rajah. He had rubies and emeralds and diamonds stuck all over him. He spoke to his people just as you spoke to Martha. Everybody had to do everything he told them in a minute. I think they would have been killed if they hadn't. I shall make you tell me about rajahs presently. He said. But first, tell me what the second thing was. I was thinking, said Mary, how different she was from Dickon. Who is Dickon? He said. What a queer name.
She might as well tell him she thought. She could talk about Dickon without mentioning the secret garden. She'd likes to hear Martha talk about him. Besides, she longed to talk about him. It would seem to bring him nearer. He is Martha's brother. He is 12 years old. She explained. He is not like anyone else in the world. He can charm foxes and squirrels and birds, just like how they would charm snakes in India. He plays a very soft tune on a pike and they come and listen.
There were some big books on a table at his side and he dragged one suddenly toward him. There's a picture of a snake charmer in this. He exclaimed. Come and look at it. The book was a beautiful one with superb colored illustrations and he turned to one of them. Can you do that? He asked eagerly. He played on his pipe and they listened. Mary explained. But he doesn't call it magic. He says it's because he lives on the more so much and he knows their ways.
He says he feels sometimes as if he was a bird or a rabbit himself. He likes them so. I think he asks the Robin questions. It seemed as if they talked to each other in soft chirps. Colin lay back on his cushion and his eyes grew larger and larger and the spots on his cheeks burned. He tells me some more about him. He said. He knows all about eggs and nests. Mary went on.
And he knows whether foxes and badgers and autos live. He keeps them secret so that the other boys won't find their holes and frighten them. He knows about everything that grows or lives on the more. How can he, when it's such a great, bare, dreary place? It's the most beautiful place. Protested Mary. Thousands of lovely things grow on it and there are thousands of little creatures all busy building nests and making holes and burrows and chippering or singing or squeaking to each other.
They're so busy and having such fun under the earth when the trees or Heather. It's their world. How do you know all that? Said Colin, turning on his elbow to look at her. I've never been there once really. Said Mary, suddenly remembering. I only drove over it in the dark. I thought it was hideous. Martha told me about it first and then Dickon.
When Dickon talks about it, you feel as if you saw things and heard them and as if you were standing in the Heather with the sun shining and the gauze smelling like honey. Nor full of bees and butterflies. Never see anything if you're ill. Said Colin, rastlessly. He looked like a person listening to a new sound in the distance and wondering what it was. You can't if you stay in a room. Said Mary, I couldn't go on the more. He said in a resentful tone.
Mary was silent for a minute and then she said something bold. You might sometime. He moved as if he were startled. Gone the more. How could I? I'm going to die. How do you know? Said Mary unsympathetically. She didn't like the way he had talked about dying. She did not feel very sympathetic. She felt rather as if he almost boasted about it. I've heard it since I can remember. He answered crossly. They're always whispering about it and thinking I don't notice. They wish I would too.
Mistress Mary felt quite contrarian. She pinched her lips together. If they wished I would, she said I wouldn't. Who wishes you would? The servants. And of course Dr. Craven, because he would get missothate and be rich instead of poor. He didn't say so, but when he always looks cheerful when I'm worse. When I had typhoid fever, his face got quite fat. I think my father wishes it too. I don't believe he does.
Said Mary, quite obstinately. That made Colin turn and look at her again. Don't you? He said. Then he lay back on his cushion and was still as if he were thinking. And there was quite a long silence. Perhaps they were both of them thinking strange things children do not usually think. I like the grand doctor from London because he made them take the iron thing off.
Said Mary at last. Did he say you were going to die? No. What did he say? He didn't whisper. Colin answered. Perhaps he knew I hated whispering. I heard him say one thing aloud. He said, the lad might live if he would make up his mind to it. Put him in the humour. Sounded as if he was in a temper.
I'll tell you who would put you in the humour, perhaps. Said Mary, reflecting. She felt as if she would like this thing to be settled one way or the other. I believe Dickin would. He's always talking about live things. He never talks about dead things or things that are ill. He's always looking up in the sky to watch the birds flying or looking down at the air to see something growing.
He has such round blue eyes and they are so wide open with looking about. And he laughs such a big laugh with his wide mouth. And his cheeks are as red as red as cherries. She pulled her stool nearer to the sofa and her expression quite changed the remembrance of the wide, curving mouth and wide open eyes. See here, she said. Don't let us talk about dying. I don't like it. Let us talk about living. Let us talk and talk about Dickin and then we will look at your pictures.
It was the best thing she could have said. To talk about Dickin meant to talk about the more and about the cottage and the 14 people who lived on it on 16 shillings a week. And the children who got fat on the more grass like the wild ponies and about Dickin's mother and the skipping rope and the more with the sun on it and about pale green points sticking up out of the black sod.
And it was also alive that Mary talked more than she had ever talked before and Colin both talked and listened as he had never done before either. And they both began to laugh over nothings as children will when they are happy together. And they laughed so that in the end they were making as much noise as if they had been too ordinary, healthy, natural, 10 year old creatures instead of a hard little, unloving girl and a sickly boy who believed that he was going to die.
They enjoyed themselves so much that they forgot the pictures and they forgot about the time. They had been laughing quite loudly over Ben, weather staff and his robin and Colin was actually sitting up as if he had forgotten about his weak back when he suddenly remembered something. Do you know there is one thing we have never thought of? He said, we are cousins.
It seems so queer that they had talked so much and never remembered this simple thing that they laughed more than ever because they had gotten to the humour to laugh at everything. And in the midst of the fun, the door opened and in walked Dr Craven and Mrs. Medlock. Dr Craven started in actual alarm and Mrs. Medlock almost fell back because he had accidentally bumped against her. Good Lord! exclaimed poor Mrs. Medlock with her eyes almost starting out of her head. Good Lord!
What is this? said Dr Craven coming forward. What does it mean? Then Mary was reminded of the boy Raja again. Colin answered as if neither the doctors alarm nor Mrs. Medlock's terror were of the slightest consequence. He was as little disturbed or frightened as if an elderly cat and dog had walked into the room. This is my cousin Mary Lennox. He said, I asked her to come and talk to me. I like her. She must come and talk to me whenever I send for her.
Dr Craven turned reproachfully to Mrs. Medlock. Oh sir! She panted. I don't know how it's happened. There's not a servant on the place that a dare talk. They all have their orders. Nobody told her anything. Said Colin. She heard me crying and found me herself. I'm glad she came. Did it be silly, Medlock? Mary saw that Dr Craven did not look pleased. It was quite plain that he dare not oppose his patient.
He sat down by Colin and felt his pulse. I'm afraid there has been too much excitement. Excitement is not good for you my boy. He said, I should be excited if she is kept away. Answered Colin. His eyes beginning to look dangerously sparkling. I'm better. She makes me better. The nurse must bring her tea up with mine. We will have tea together. Mrs. Medlock and Dr Craven looked at each other in a troubled way. But there was ever done nothing to be done.
He does look rather better sir. Ventiad Mrs. Medlock. But thinking the matter over. He looked better this morning before she came into the room. She came into the room last night. She stayed with me a long time. She sang a Hindu starni song to me. And it made me go to sleep. Said Colin. I was better when I waken up. I wanted my breakfast. I want my tea now. Tell nurse Medlock.
Dr Craven did not stay very long. He talked to the nurse for a few minutes when she came into the room and said a few words of warning to Colin. He must not talk too much. He must not forget that he was ill. He must not forget that he was very easily tired. Mary thought that there seemed to be a number of uncomfortable things he was not to forget. Colin looked fretful and kept his strange black lashed eyes fixed on Dr Craven's face.
I want to forget it. He said it last. She makes me forget it. That is why I want her. Dr Craven did not look happy when he left the room. He gave a puzzled glance at the little girl sitting on the large stool. She had become a stiff, silent child again as soon as he entered and he could not see what the attraction was. The boy actually did look brighter however and he sighed rather heavily as he went down the corridor.
They always wanted me to eat things when I did not want to. He said Colin as the nurse brought in the tea and put it on the table by the sofa. Now, if you will eat, I will. Those muffins look so nice and hot. Tell me about Rajas.