The Secret Garden

THE SECRET GARDEN

Frances Hodgson Burnett

THE SECRET GARDEN

We’re alike, you and me,” old Ben Weatherstaff said to Mary. “We’re not pretty to look at and we’re both very disagreeable.”

Poor Mary! Nobody wants her, nobody likes her. Her parents have died, and she has been sent home from India to live in her uncle’s house in Yorkshire. It is a big old house with nearly a hundred rooms, but most of them are shut and locked. Mary is cross, bored, and lonely. There is nothing to do all day and no one to talk to except old Ben Weatherstaff, the gardener.

But then Mary learns about the secret garden. The door is locked and hidden, and the key is lost. No one has been inside the secret garden for ten years—except the robin, who flies over the wall. Mary watches the robin and wonders where the key is.

And then there is that strange crying in the night, somewhere in the house. It sounds like a child crying…

1
Little Miss Mary

Nobody seemed to care about Mary. She was born in India, where her father was a British official. He was busy with his work, and her mother, who was very beautiful, spent all her time going to parties. Therefore, an Indian woman named Kamala was paid to take care of the little girl.

Mary was not a pretty child. She had a thin, angry face and thin, yellow hair. She was always giving orders to Kamala, who had to obey. Mary never thought of other people but only of herself. In fact, she was a very selfish, disagreeable, bad-tempered little girl.

One very hot morning, when she was about nine years old, she woke up and saw that instead of Kamala, there was a different Indian servant by her bed.

Koi bhi Mary ki parwaah nahi karta tha. Wo India mein paida hui thi, jahan uske baap ek British official the. Wo apne kaam mein masroof rehte the, aur uski maa, jo bohot khubsurat thi, apna saara waqt parties mein guzarti thi. Isliye, ek Indian aurat, Kamala, ko Mary ki dekhbhal ke liye paisa diya gaya tha.

Mary ek pyari bachhi nahi thi. Uska patla, gusse se bhara chehra aur patle, peele baal the. Wo hamesha Kamala ko hukam deti rehti thi, jo uski baat maan leti thi. Mary kabhi doosron ke baare mein nahi sochti thi, sirf apne baare mein. Asal mein, wo ek bohot hi selfish, chidh chidhai aur bura mizaaj ki choti ladki thi.

Ek bohot garmi se bhari subah, jab wo lagbhag nau saal ki thi, usne dekha ke Kamala ki jagah ek naya Indian servant uski bed ke paas tha

“What are you doing here?” she asked crossly. “Go away! And send Kamala to me at once!”

The woman looked afraid. “I’m sorry, Miss Mary, she—she—she can’t come!”

Something strange was happening that day. Some of the house servants were missing, and everybody looked frightened. But nobody told Mary anything, and Kamala still did not come. So at last, Mary went out into the garden and played by herself under a tree. She pretended she was making her own flower garden and picked large red flowers to push into the ground. All the time she was saying crossly to herself, “I hate Kamala! I’ll hit her when she comes back!”

Just then, she saw her mother coming into the garden with a young Englishman. They did not notice the child, who listened to their conversation.

“It’s very bad, is it?” her mother asked the young man in a worried voice.

“Very bad,” he answered seriously. “People are dying like flies. It’s dangerous to stay in this town. You should go to the hills, where there’s no disease.”

“Oh, I know!” she cried. “We must leave soon!”

Suddenly, they heard loud cries coming from the servants’ rooms at the side of the house.

“What’s happened?” cried Mary’s mother wildly.

“I think one of your servants has just died. You didn’t tell me the disease is here, in your house!”

“I didn’t know!” she screamed. “Quick, come with me!”

“Tum yahan kya kar rahi ho?” usne gusse se poocha. “Chalo chalo! Aur Kamala ko turant mere paas bhejo!

Aurat dar se lag rahi thi. “Mujhe maaf kar do, Miss Mary, wo—wo—wo nahi aa sakti!”

Us din kuch ajeeb ho raha tha. Ghar ke kuch servants gayab the aur sab log dar se bhare hue lag rahe the. Lekin kisi ne Mary ko kuch nahi bataya, aur Kamala bhi nahi aayi. Toh aakhir mein, Mary baahar bagh mein chali gayi aur ek darakht ke neeche akeli khelti rahi. Usne pretend kiya ke wo apna flower garden bana rahi hai aur bade bade laal phool zameen mein daal rahi thi. Har waqt wo gusse se apne aap se keh rahi thi, “Mujhe Kamala se nafrat hai! Main usko jab wapas aayegi maarungi!”

Tabhi, usne dekha ke uski maa ek jawaan English aadmi ke saath bagh mein aa rahi thi. Unhone bachhi ko nahi dekha, jo unki guftagu sun rahi thi.

“Mujhe lagta hai yeh bohot bura hai?” uski maa ne jawaan aadmi se pareshani se poocha.

“Bohot bura,” usne seriously jawab diya. “Log makhi ki tarah mar rahe hain. Is sheher mein rehna khatarnaak hai. Tumhe pahadiyon mein chalna chahiye, jahan koi bimari nahi hai.”

“Oh, mujhe pata hai!” usne cheekh kar kaha. “Humein jaldi nikalna hoga!”

Achaanak, unhone ghar ke side se servants ke kamron se tez cheekh-pookh sunni.

“Kya hua?” Mary ki maa ne paagal pan se cheekh kar kaha.

“Mujhe lagta hai tumhare servants mein se ek abhi mar gaya hai. Tumne nahi bataya ke bimari yahan, tumhare ghar mein hai!”

“Mujhe nahi pata tha!” usne cheekh kar kaha. “Jaldi, mere saath chalo!”

and Together, they ran into the house.

Now Mary understood what was wrong. The terrible disease had already killed many people in the town, and in all the houses, people were dying. In Mary’s house, it was Kamala who had just died. Later that day, three more servants died there.

Ab Mary ko samajh aaya ke kya galat ho raha tha. Khatarnaak bimari ne sheher mein bohot se logon ko maar diya tha, aur har ghar mein log mar rahe the. Mary ke ghar mein, Kamala abhi abhi mar gayi thi. Us din ke baad, wahan teen aur servants bhi mar gaye.

All through the night and the next day, people ran in and out of the house, shouting and crying. Nobody thought of Mary. She hid in her bedroom, frightened by the strange and terrible sounds that she heard around her. Sometimes she cried and sometimes she slept.

When she woke the next day, the house was silent.

“Perhaps the disease has gone,” she thought. “And everybody is well again. I wonder who will take care of me instead of Kamala? Why doesn’t someone bring me some food? It’s strange the house is so quiet.”

But just then, she heard men’s voices in the hall.

“How sad!” said one. “That beautiful woman!”

“There was a child too, wasn’t there?” said the other. “Although none of us ever saw her.”

Mary was standing in the middle of her room when they opened the door a few minutes later. The two men jumped back in surprise.

“My name is Mary Lennox,” she said crossly. “I was asleep when everyone was ill, and now I’m hungry.”

“It’s the child, the one nobody ever saw!” said the older man to the other. “They’ve all forgotten her!”

“Why was I forgotten?” asked Mary angrily. “Why has nobody come to take care of me?”

The younger man looked at her very sadly. “Poor child!” he said. “You see, there’s nobody left alive in the house. So nobody can come.”

In this strange and sudden way, Mary learned that both her mother and her father had died. The few servants who had survived the disease were gone as well.

Raat bhar aur agle din bhi, log ghar se bahar daud rahe the, cheekh rahe the aur ro rahe the. Koi bhi Mary ke baare mein nahi soch raha tha. Wo apne bedroom mein chhupi hui thi, ajeeb aur khatarnaak awaazon se dar gayi thi jo usne aas paas suni. Kabhi wo ro rahi thi aur kabhi so rahi thi.

Jab wo agle din uthi, to ghar bilkul khamosh tha.

“Shayad bimari chali gayi hai,” usne socha. “Aur sab log theek ho gaye hain. Mujhe Kamala ki jagah dekhne ke liye kaun aayega? Koi kyun nahi mujhe khana laata? Yeh ajeeb hai ke ghar itna khamosh hai.”

Tabhi usne hall mein mardon ki awaaz suni.

“Kitna afsos hai!” ek ne kaha. “Woh khubsurat aurat!”

“Ek bachha bhi tha, kya nahi?” doosre ne kaha. “Halaanki humne usse kabhi nahi dekha.”

Mary apne kamre ke beech mein khadi thi jab unhone kuch minute baad darwaza khola. Dono mardon ne hairani se peechay kooda.

“Mera naam Mary Lennox hai,” usne gusse se kaha. “Main tab so rahi thi jab sab log bimaar the, aur ab mujhe bhukh lagi hai.”

“Yeh bachha hai, jise kisi ne kabhi nahi dekha!” bada aadmi doosre se keh raha tha. “Sabne use bhool diya hai!”

“Mujhe kyun bhool gaya?” Mary ne gusse se poocha. “Koi kyun nahi aaya mujhe dekhne ke liye?”

Chhota aadmi uski taraf bahut hi afsos ke sath dekh raha tha. “Bechari bachhi!” usne kaha. “Dekho, ghar mein koi zinda nahi bacha. Isliye koi nahi aa sakta.”

Is ajeeb aur achanak tarike se, Mary ko pata chala ke uski maa aur baap dono mar chuke hain. Jo kuchh servants bimari se bach gaye the, wo bhi chale gaye hain.

Not died, but had run away in the night. No one had remembered little Miss Mary. She was all alone.

Because she had never known her parents well, she did not miss them at all. She only thought of herself, as she had always done.

“Where will I live?” she wondered. “I hope I’ll stay with people who’ll let me do what I want.”

At first, she was taken to an English family who had known her parents. She hated their untidy house and noisy children and preferred playing by herself in the garden.

One day, she was playing her favorite game, pretending to make a garden, when one of the children, Basil, offered to help.

“Go away!” cried Mary. “I don’t want your help!”

For a moment, Basil looked angry, and then he began to laugh. He danced round and round Mary and sang a funny little song about Miss Mary and her stupid flowers. This made Mary very cross indeed. No one had ever laughed at her so unkindly.

“You’re going home soon,” said Basil. “And we’re all very pleased you’re leaving!”

“I’m pleased too,” replied Mary. “But where’s home?”

“You’re stupid if you don’t know that!” laughed Basil. “England, of course! You’re going to live with your uncle, Mr. Archibald Craven.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” said Mary coldly.

“But I know about him because I heard Father and Mother talking,” said Basil. “He lives in a big, lonely old house.”

Raat ke waqt, log marne nahi, balki bhaag gaye the. Koi bhi chhoti Miss Mary ko yaad nahi rakha. Wo bilkul akeli thi.

Chunanchah, kyunki usne apne parents ko achhi tarah nahi jaana tha, isliye usne unki kami mehsoos nahi ki. Usne sirf apne baare mein socha, jaise wo hamesha karti thi.

“Main kahaan rahungi?” usne socha. “Mujhe ummeed hai ke mujhe aise log milenge jo mujhe wo sab karne dein jo main chahti hoon.”

Shuru mein, usse ek English family ke paas le jaya gaya jo uske parents ko jaanti thi. Usne unki ganda aur shor machane wali ghar ko nafrat ki aur garden mein akeli khelna pasand kiya.

Ek din, jab wo apne favorite game mein masroof thi, aur garden bana rahi thi, tab ek bachha, Basil, uski madad karne aaya.

“Chalo chalo!” Mary ne cheekh kar kaha. “Mujhe tumhari madad nahi chahiye!”

Ek pal ke liye, Basil gusse mein lag raha tha, phir usne hansi shuru kar di. Usne Mary ke aas-paas ghummte hue ek funny chhoti si song gaayi Miss Mary aur uske bekaar ke phoolon ke baare mein. Yeh dekh kar Mary bohot hi zyada gusse mein aa gayi. Kabhi kisi ne itni bekaar se uski hansi nahi udai thi.

“Tum jald hi ghar jaa rahi ho,” Basil ne kaha. “Aur hum sab bohot khush hain ke tum ja rahi ho!”

“Main bhi khush hoon,” Mary ne jawab diya. “Lekin ghar kahaan hai?”

“Agar tum nahi jaanti toh tum stupid ho!” Basil ne hansi se kaha. “England, zaroor! Tum apne uncle, Mr. Archibald Craven ke saath rahogi.”

“Main ne uska naam kabhi nahi suna,” Mary ne thanda jawab diya.

“Lekin mujhe uske baare mein pata hai kyunki maine Father aur Mother ko baat karte suna,” Basil ne kaha. “Wo ek bade, akeli purane ghar mein rehta hai.”

and has no friends because he’s so bad-tempered. He’s got a crooked back, and he’s horrid!”

“I don’t believe you!” cried Mary. But the next day, Basil’s parents explained that she was going to live with her uncle in Yorkshire, in the north of England. Mary looked bored and cross and said nothing.

After the long sea journey, she was met in London by Mr. Craven’s housekeeper, Mrs. Medlock. Together they traveled north by train. Mrs. Medlock was a large woman with a very red face and bright black eyes. Mary did not like her, but that was not surprising, because she did not usually like people. Mrs. Medlock did not like Mary either.

“What a disagreeable child!” thought the housekeeper. “But perhaps I should talk to her.”

“aur uske koi dost nahi hain kyunki wo bahut hi bura mizaaj hai. Uska peeth bhi tedha hai, aur wo nafrat ki cheez hai!”

“Main tumhari baat nahi maanti!” Mary ne cheekh kar kaha. Lekin agle din, Basil ke parents ne samjha diya ke usse apne uncle ke saath Yorkshire, England ke north mein rehna padega. Mary ne bore aur gusse se dekha aur kuch nahi kaha.

Lambi samundar ki safar ke baad, usko London mein Mr. Craven ki housekeeper, Mrs. Medlock, ne mil gaya. Dono mil kar train ke zariye north ki taraf safar kiya. Mrs. Medlock ek moti aurat thi jiska chehra bohot laal aur aankhein chamakdar thi. Mary ko wo pasand nahi aayi, lekin yeh ajeeb nahi tha, kyunki usko aam taur par log pasand nahi aate. Mrs. Medlock ko bhi Mary pasand nahi aayi.

“Kaisi nafrat se bharay bacchi hai!” housekeeper ne socha. “Lekin shayad mujhe usse baat karni chahiye.”

“I can tell you a bit about your uncle if you like,” she said aloud. “He lives in a big old house, a long way from anywhere. There are nearly a hundred rooms, but most of them are shut and locked. There’s a big park around the house, and all kinds of gardens. Well, what do you think of that?”

“Nothing,” replied Mary. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

Mrs. Medlock laughed. “You’re a hard little girl! Well, if you don’t care, Mr. Craven doesn’t either. He never spends time on anyone. He’s got a crooked back, you see, and although he’s always been rich, he was never really happy until he married.”

“Married?” repeated Mary in surprise.

“Yes, he married a sweet, pretty girl, and he loved her deeply. So when she died—”

“Oh! Did she die?” asked Mary, interested.

“Yes, she did. And now he doesn’t care about anybody. If he’s at home, he stays in his room and sees nobody. He won’t want to see you, so you must stay out of his way and do what you’re told.”

Mary stared out of the train window at the grey sky and the rain. She was not looking forward to life at her uncle’s house.

The train journey lasted all day, and it was dark when they arrived at the station. Then there was a long drive to get to the house. It was a cold, windy night, and it was raining heavily. After a while, Mary began to hear a strange, wild noise. She looked out of the window but could see nothing except the darkness.

“Agar tum chaaho, main tumhe tumhare uncle ke baare mein thoda batane sakti hoon,” usne zordaar awaz mein kaha. “Woh ek bade purane ghar mein rehta hai, jo har jagah se door hai. Wahan lagbhag sau kamre hain, lekin zyada tar band aur taala lagaye hue hain. Ghar ke aas-paas ek bada park hai, aur har tarah ke gardens hain. Toh, tumhe yeh kaisa laga?”

“Kuch nahi,” Mary ne jawab diya. “Mujhe fark nahi padta.”

Mrs. Medlock ne hansi ki. “Tum ek mushkil chhoti ladki ho! Achha, agar tumhe farq nahi padta, toh Mr. Craven ko bhi farq nahi padta. Wo kabhi kisi ke saath waqt nahi guzarta. Dekho, uska peeth tedha hai, aur halanki wo hamesha ameer raha hai, lekin wo kabhi bhi sach mein khush nahi tha jab tak usne shaadi nahi ki.”

“Shaadi?” Mary ne hairaan hokar dohraaya.

“Haan, usne ek pyari aur khubsurat ladki se shaadi ki, aur usne usse gehri mohabbat ki. Toh jab wo mar gayi—”

“Oh! Kya wo mar gayi?” Mary ne ruchi se poocha.

“Haan, wo mar gayi. Aur ab wo kisi ki parwaah nahi karta. Agar wo ghar par hota hai, toh apne kamre mein rehta hai aur kisi se milta nahi. Wo tumhe dekhna nahi chahega, isliye tumhe uski raah se hatke rehna hoga aur jo kaha jaye usi tarah karna hoga.”

Mary ne train ke khidki se grey aasman aur baarish ko dekha. Usse apne uncle ke ghar mein rehne ka mann nahi ho raha tha.

Train ki safar poore din chalti rahi, aur jab wo station par pahunche tab andhera ho gaya tha. Uske baad, ghar tak pohnchne ke liye lamba safar tha. Yeh ek thandi, hawa se bhari raat thi aur tezi se baarish ho rahi thi. Thodi der baad, Mary ne ek ajeeb aur junooni shor suna. Usne khidki se bahar dekha lekin sirf andhera hi dekha.

“What’s that noise?” she asked Mrs. Medlock. “It’s—it’s not the sea, is it?”

“No, that’s the moor. It’s the sound the wind makes, blowing across the moor.”

“Yeh shor kya hai?” usne Mrs. Medlock se poocha. “Yeh—yeh samundar ka to nahi hai, hai na?”

“Nahi, yeh moor ka hai. Yeh hawa ka awaaz hai jo moor ke across chal rahi hai.”

“What is a moor?”

“It’s just miles and miles of wild land, with no trees or houses. Your uncle’s house is right on the edge of the moor.”

Mary listened to the strange, frightening sound. “I don’t like it,” she thought. “I don’t like it.” She looked more disagreeable than ever.

“Moor kya hota hai?”

“Yeh bas milo tak phaili hui jangli zameen hoti hai, jahan na to koi ped hota hai aur na hi koi ghar. Tumhare uncle ka ghar moor ke edge par hai.”

Mary ne us ajeeb aur darawne shor ko suna. “Mujhe yeh pasand nahi aata,” usne socha. “Mujhe yeh pasand nahi aata.” Uska chehra aur bhi nafrat se bhar gaya.

2
Mary in Yorkshire

They arrived at a very large old house. It looked dark and unfriendly from the outside. Inside, Mary looked around the big shadowy hall and felt very small and lost.

They went straight upstairs. Mary was shown to a room where there was a warm fire and food on the table.

“This is your room,” said Mrs. Medlock. “Go to bed when you’ve had some supper. And remember, you must stay in your room! Mr. Craven doesn’t want you to wander all over the house!”

When Mary woke up the next morning, she saw a young servant girl cleaning the fireplace. The room seemed dark and rather strange, with pictures of dogs and horses and ladies on the walls. It was not a child’s room at all. From the window, she could not see any trees or houses, only wild land, which looked like a kind of purple sea.

Woh ek bahut bade purane ghar par pohnche. Bahar se woh andhera aur dushman lag raha tha. Andar, Mary ne bade shadowy hall mein dekha aur apne aap ko bahut chhota aur kho gaya mehsoos kiya.

Woh seedha upar chali gayi. Mary ko ek kamra dikhaya gaya jahan ek garam aag jal rahi thi aur table par khana tha.

“Yeh tumhara kamra hai,” Mrs. Medlock ne kaha. “Supper khane ke baad so jana. Aur yaad rakhna, tumhe apne kamre mein hi rehna hai! Mr. Craven nahi chaahte ke tum ghar ke har kone mein ghoomti raho!”

Jab Mary agle din subah uthi, to usne ek naukrani ladki ko fireplace saaf karte dekha. Kamra andhera aur thoda ajeeb lag raha tha, diwaar par kutte, ghode aur ladies ke tasveeron ke saath. Yeh bilkul bhi ek bachche ka kamra nahi tha. Khidki se, usne koi ped ya ghar nahi dekha, sirf jangli zameen dikhti thi jo ek purpura sa samundar lag raha tha.

“Who are you?” she asked the servant coldly.

“Martha, miss,” answered the girl with a smile.

“And what’s that outside?” Mary continued.

“That’s the moor,” smiled Martha. “Do you like it?”

“No,” replied Mary immediately. “I hate it.”

“That’s because you don’t know it. You will like it. I love it. It’s lovely in spring and summer when there are flowers. It always smells so sweet. The air’s so fresh, and the birds sing so beautifully. I never want to leave the moor.”

Mary was feeling very bad-tempered. “You’re a strange servant,” she said. “In India, we don’t have conversations with servants. We give orders, and they obey, and that’s that.”

Martha did not seem to mind Mary’s crossness. “I know I talk too much!” she laughed.

“Are you going to be my servant?” asked Mary.

“Well, not really. I work for Mrs. Medlock. I’m going to clean your room and bring you your food, but you won’t need a servant except for those things.”

“But who’s going to dress me?”

Martha stopped cleaning and stared at Mary. “Tha’ canna’ dress thysen?” she asked, shocked.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand your language!”

“Oh, I forgot. We all speak the Yorkshire dialect here, but of course you don’t understand that. I meant to say, can’t you put on your own clothes?”

“Of course not! My servant always used to dress me.”

“Well! I think you should learn to dress yourself. My mother always says people should be able to take care of—”

“Tum kaun ho?” usne naukrani se thanda tareeke se poocha.

“Martha, miss,” ladki ne muskurahat ke saath jawab diya.

“Aur bahar kya hai?” Mary ne poocha.

“Yeh moor hai,” Martha ne muskurate hue kaha. “Kya tumhe yeh pasand aata hai?”

“Nahi,” Mary ne turant jawab diya. “Mujhe yeh pasand nahi.”

“Yeh isliye kyunki tumhe iske baare mein pata nahi hai. Tumhe yeh pasand aayega. Mujhe yeh bahut pasand hai. Spring aur summer mein jab yahan phool hote hain, yeh bahut khoobsurat lagta hai. Hamesha meetha khushboo hota hai. Hawa itni taaza hoti hai, aur parindey itni khubsurati se gaate hain. Main kabhi moor ko chhodna nahi chahti.”

Mary ka mood bahut kharab tha. “Tum ek ajeeb naukrani ho,” usne kaha. “India mein, hum servants se baat nahi karte. Hum orders dete hain, aur wo obey karte hain, bas itna hi.”

Martha ko Mary ke gusse se koi parwaah nahi thi. “Mujhe pata hai main zyada bolti hoon!” usne hansi se kaha.

“Kya tum meri servant banogi?” Mary ne poocha.

“Achha, zyada nahi. Main Mrs. Medlock ke liye kaam karti hoon. Main tumhara kamra saaf karungi aur tumhara khana laungi, lekin tumhe sirf itni hi cheezon ke liye servant ki zaroorat hogi.”

“Lekin mujhe kapde kaun pehnayega?”

Martha ne cleaning band ki aur Mary ko ghoorna shuru kiya. “Tum khud kapde nahi pehn sakti?” usne hairani se poocha.

“Tum kya keh rahi ho? Main tumhari language nahi samajhti!”

“Oh, main bhool gayi. Hum yahan Yorkshire dialect bolte hain, lekin tumhe woh samajh nahi aata. Main keh rahi thi, kya tum apne kapde khud nahi pehn sakti?”

“Bilkul nahi! Meri servant hamesha mujhe kapde pehnati thi.”

“Achha! Mujhe lagta hai tumhe khud kapde pehnana seekhna chahiye. Meri maa hamesha kehti hai ki logon ko apne aap ka khayal rakhna aana chahiye—”

“themselves, even if they’re rich and important.”

Little Miss Mary was furious with Martha. “It’s different in India where I come from! You don’t know anything about India, or about servants, or about anything! You… you…” She could not explain what she meant. Suddenly, she felt very confused and lonely. She threw herself down on the bed and started crying wildly.

“Khud ko sambhalna aana chahiye, chahe woh ameer aur important hi kyun na ho.”

Chhoti Miss Mary Martha se bahut gusse mein thi. “India mein jahan se main aayi hoon, sab kuch alag hai! Tumhe India ke baare mein kuch nahi pata, servants ke baare mein bhi nahi, ya kisi cheez ke baare mein! Tum… tum…” Usne nahi samjha paaya ki woh kya kehna chahti thi. Achanak, usne bahut confuse aur akeli mehsoos kiya. Usne bed par gir gayi aur zor se rone lagi.

“Now, now, don’t cry like that,” Martha said gently. “I’m very sorry. You’re right, I don’t know anything about anything. Please stop crying, miss.”

She sounded kind and friendly, and Mary began to feel better and soon stopped crying. Martha went on talking as she finished her cleaning, but Mary looked out of the window in a bored way and pretended not to listen.

“I’ve got eleven brothers and sisters, you know, miss. There’s not much money in our house. And they all eat so much food! Mother says it’s the good fresh air on the moor that makes them so hungry. My brother Dickon, he’s always out on the moor. He’s twelve, and he’s got a horse which he rides sometimes.”

“Where did he get it?” asked Mary. She had always wanted an animal of her own, and so she began to feel a little interest in Dickon.

“Oh, it’s a wild horse, but he’s a kind boy, and animals like him, you see. Now you must have your breakfast, miss. Here it is on the table.”

“I don’t want it,” said Mary. “I’m not hungry.”

“What!” cried Martha. “My little brothers and sisters would eat all this in five minutes!”

“Why?” asked Mary coldly.

“Because they don’t get enough to eat, that’s why, and they’re always hungry. You’re very lucky to have the food, miss.”

Mary said nothing, but she drank some tea and ate a little bread.

“Now put a coat on and run outside to play,” said Martha.

“Ab, ab, aise mat rone do,” Martha ne narm se kaha. “Mujhe bahut afsos hai. Tum bilkul sahi keh rahi ho, mujhe kisi cheez ke baare mein kuch nahi pata. Please rona band karo, miss.”

Uski aawaaz meetha aur dosti bhara tha, aur Mary ko behtar mehsoos hone laga aur usne rona band kar diya. Martha apni cleaning complete karte hue baat karti rahi, lekin Mary ne bahar ki taraf bore ho kar dekha aur sunne ki koshish nahi ki.

“Mere paas gyaarah bhai-behen hain, miss. Hamare ghar mein zyada paisa nahi hai. Aur woh sab bahut zyada khana khate hain! Meri maa kehti hai ki moor ka taaza hawa unhe itna bhookha banata hai. Mere bhai Dickon, woh hamesha moor par rehta hai. Uski umar barah saal hai aur uske paas ek ghora hai jis par woh kabhi kabhi sawari karta hai.”

“Usne yeh kaha se liya?” Mary ne poocha. Usne hamesha apna khud ka janwar chaha tha, isliye usne Dickon ke baare mein thoda interest feel kiya.

“Oh, yeh ek wild ghora hai, lekin woh ek accha ladka hai, aur animals usse pasand karte hain. Ab tumhe apna nashta karna chahiye, miss. Yeh table par hai.”

“Mujhe nahi chahiye,” Mary ne kaha. “Mujhe bhukh nahi hai.”

“Kya!” Martha ne chillaaya. “Mere chhote bhai-behen yeh sab paanch minute mein khatam kar denge!”

“Kyun?” Mary ne thanda tone me poocha.

“Kyunki unhe khaane ke liye achi cheez nahi milti, isliye woh hamesha bhookhe rehte hain. Tum bahut lucky ho ki tumhe yeh khana mil raha hai, miss.”

Mary ne kuch nahi kaha, lekin usne thoda tea piya aur thoda bread khaya.

“Ab ek coat pehno aur bahar jaake khelo,” Martha ne kaha.

“Now put a coat on and run outside to play,” said Martha. “It’ll do you good to be in the fresh air.”

Mary looked out of the window at the cold, grey sky. “Why should I go out on a day like this?” she asked.

“Well, there’s nothing to play with indoors, is there?”

Mary realized Martha was right. “But who will go with me?” she said go.

Martha stared at her. “Nobody. You’ll have to learn to play by yourself. Dickon plays by himself on the moors for hours, with the wild birds and the sheep and the other animals.” She looked away for a moment. “Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you this, but—one of the walled gardens is locked up. Nobody’s been in it for ten years. It was Mrs. Craven’s garden, and when she died so suddenly, Mr. Craven locked it and buried the key—Oh, I must go. I can hear Mrs. Medlock’s bell ringing for me.”

“Ab ek coat pehno aur bahar jaake khelo,” Martha ne kaha. “Taaza hawa me rehne se tumhe acha lagega.”

Mary ne bahar ke thande, grey aasman ko dekha. “Aise din par main bahar kyun jaao?” usne poocha.

“Achha, andar toh khelne ke liye kuch hai nahi, hai na?”

Mary ne samjha ki Martha sahi keh rahi thi. “Lekin mere saath kaun jaayega?” usne kaha jao.

Martha ne uski taraf ghoor se dekha. “Koi nahi. Tumhe khud se khelna seekhna padega. Dickon moors par ghanto tak akela khelta hai, wild birds, sheep aur doosre janwaron ke saath.” Usne ek pal ke liye nazar hataayi. “Shayad mujhe yeh nahi kehna chahiye, lekin—ek walled garden band hai. Usme pichhle dus saalon se koi nahi gaya. Yeh Mrs. Craven ka garden tha, aur jab woh achanak mar gayi, Mr. Craven ne isse lock kar diya aur chaabi ko zameen mein daba diya—Oh, mujhe jana chahiye. Main Mrs. Medlock ki bell sun rahi hoon.”

Mary went downstairs and wandered through the great empty gardens. Many of the fruit and vegetable gardens had walls around them, but there were no locked doors. She saw an old man digging in one of the vegetable gardens, but he looked cross and unfriendly, so she walked on.

“How ugly it all looks in winter!” she thought. “But what a mystery the locked garden is! Why did my uncle bury the key? If he loved his wife, why did he hate her garden? Perhaps I’ll never know. I don’t suppose I’ll like him if I ever meet him. And he won’t like me, so I won’t be able to ask him.”

Just then, she noticed a robin singing to her from a tree on the other side of a wall. “I think that tree’s in the secret garden!” she told herself. “There’s an extra wall here, and there’s no way in.”

She went back to where the gardener was digging and spoke to him. At first, he answered in a very bad-tempered way, but suddenly the robin flew down near them, and the old man began to smile. He looked a different person then, and Mary thought how much nicer people looked when they smiled. The gardener spoke gently to the robin, and the—

Mary ne niche utkar bade khali gardens mein ghoomna shuru kiya. Kai phalon aur sabziyon ke gardens ke ird-gird deewar thi, lekin koi bhi locked door nahi tha. Usne ek purane aadmi ko ek vegetable garden mein kheti karte hue dekha, lekin woh bahut gusse se bhara aur dosti se bilkul pare lag raha tha, isliye usne aage barhna behtar samjha.

“Winter mein sab kitna ugly lag raha hai!” usne socha. “Lekin locked garden ek raaz hai! Mere uncle ne chaabi kyun dabaayi? Agar usne apni wife se pyar kiya, toh usne uske garden se nafrat kyun ki? Shayad main kabhi nahi jaan paungi. Main nahi sochti ki main usse milne par usse pasand karungi. Aur woh mujhe nahi pasand karega, toh main usse nahi pooch sakungi.”

Tabhi, usne ek robin ko ek tree par deewar ke doosri taraf se uski taraf gaate hue dekha. “Mujhe lagta hai woh tree secret garden mein hai!” usne apne aap se kaha. “Yahan ek extra deewar hai, aur andar jaane ka koi raasta nahi hai.”

Woh wapas gardener ke paas gayi aur usse baat ki. Pehle toh usne bahut gusse wale tareeke se jawab diya, lekin achanak robin unke paas aake baith gaya, aur purana aadmi muskurane laga. Uska chehra tab bilkul alag lag raha tha, aur Mary ne dekha ki log smile karte waqt kitne ache lagte hain. Gardener ne robin se narm aawaaz mein baat ki, aur—

The pretty little bird hopped on the ground near them.

“He’s my friend, he is,” said the old man. “There aren’t any other robins in the garden, so he’s a bit lonely.” He spoke in a strong Yorkshire dialect, so Mary had to listen carefully to understand him.

She looked very hard at the robin. “I’m lonely too,” she said. She had not realized this before.

“What’s your name?” she asked the gardener.

“Ben Weatherstaff. I’m lonely myself. The robin’s my only friend, you see.”

“I haven’t got any friends at all,” said Mary.

Yorkshire people always say what they are thinking, and old Ben was a Yorkshire moor man. “We’re alike, you and me,” he told Mary. “We’re not pretty to look at, and we’re both very disagreeable.”

Nobody had ever said this to Mary before. “Am I really as ugly and disagreeable as Ben?” she wondered.

Suddenly, the robin flew to a tree near Mary and started singing to her. Ben laughed loudly.

“Well!” he said. “He wants to be your friend!”

“Oh! Would you please be my friend?” she whispered to the robin. She spoke in a soft, quiet voice, and old Ben looked at her in surprise.

“You said that really nicely!” he said. “You sound like Dickon when he talks to animals on the moor.”

“Do you know Dickon?” asked Mary. But just then, the robin flew away.

“Oh, look, he’s flown into the garden with no door! Please, Ben, how can I get into it?”

Chhoti si khoobsurat chidiya unke paas zameen par kood rahi thi.

“Yeh meri dost hai,” purane aadmi ne kaha. “Garden mein aur koi robins nahi hain, isliye yeh thodi akeli hai.” Usne strong Yorkshire dialect mein bola, isliye Mary ko dhyan se sunna pada usse samajhne ke liye.

Usne robin ko dhyan se dekha. “Main bhi akeli hoon,” usne kaha. Usne pehle yeh nahi samjha tha.

“Tumhara naam kya hai?” usne gardener se poocha.

“Ben Weatherstaff. Main bhi akela hoon. Robin meri sirf ek hi dost hai, samjho.”

“Mere paas koi friends nahi hain,” Mary ne kaha.

Yorkshire ke log hamesha jo soch rahe hote hain woh hi bolte hain, aur purane Ben bhi ek Yorkshire moor man the. “Hum dono ek jaise hain,” usne Mary ko kaha. “Hum dekhne mein ache nahi lagte, aur hum dono hi bahut disagreeable hain.”

Kisi ne Mary se pehle yeh nahi kaha tha. “Kya main sach mein Ben ki tarah ugly aur disagreeable hoon?” usne socha.

Achanak, robin Mary ke paas ek tree par chala gaya aur uske liye gaane laga. Ben zor se hansne laga.

“Toh dekho!” usne kaha. “Yeh tumhara dost banna chahta hai!”

“Oh! Kya tum mere dost banoge, please?” usne robin se dheere se kaha. Uski awaaz bahut narm aur quiet thi, aur purane Ben ne hairani se uski taraf dekha.

“Tumne yeh kitni achi tarah se kaha!” usne kaha. “Tumhari awaaz Dickon ki tarah lagti hai jab woh moor par animals se baat karta hai.”

“Kya tumhe Dickon pata hai?” Mary ne poocha. Lekin tabhi, robin ud gaya.

“Oh, dekho, woh garden mein chale gaya jahan koi door nahi hai! Please, Ben, main wahan kaise ja sakti hoon?”

Ben stopped smiling and picked up his spade. “You can’t, and that’s that. It’s not your business. Nobody can find the door. Run away and play, will you? I must get on with my work.” And he walked away. He did not even say goodbye.

In the next few days, Mary spent almost all her time in the gardens. The fresh air from the moor made her hungry, and she was becoming stronger and healthier. One day, she noticed the robin again. He was on top of a wall, singing to her. “Good morning! Isn’t this fun! Come this way!” he seemed to say, as he hopped along the wall. Mary began to laugh as she danced along beside him. “I know the secret garden’s on the other side of this wall!” she thought.

Ben ne muskurana band kar diya aur apni spade utha li. “Tum nahi ja sakti, bas itna hi hai. Yeh tumhara kaam nahi hai. Koi bhi door nahi dhoondh sakta. Jaao aur khelne jao, kya? Mujhe apna kaam karna hai.” Aur woh chale gaye. Unhone goodbye bhi nahi kaha.

Agle kuch din, Mary ne apna zyada tar waqt gardens mein guzar diya. Moor se aati fresh hawa ne usse bhookh lagi aur woh zyada strong aur healthy ho rahi thi. Ek din, usne dobara robin ko dekha. Woh ek deewar ke upar tha aur usse ga raha tha. “Good morning! Yeh kitna maza aaya! Idhar aao!” woh keh raha tha, jaise woh deewar ke upar chal raha tha. Mary hasi aur uske saath dance karne lagi. “Mujhe pata hai secret garden is deewar ke doosre side par hai!” usne socha.

Excitedly, Mary said, “And the robin lives there! But where’s the door?”

That evening, she asked Martha to stay and talk to her beside the fire after supper. They could hear the wind blowing around the old house, but the room was warm and comfortable. Mary only had one idea in her head.

“Tell me about the secret garden,” she said.

“Well, all right then, miss, but we aren’t supposed to talk about it, you know. It was Mrs. Craven’s favorite garden, and she and Mr. Craven used to take care of it themselves. They spent hours there, reading and talking. Very happy they were. They used the branch of an old tree as a seat. But one day, when she was sitting on the branch, it broke, and she fell. She was very badly hurt and the next day she died. That’s why he hates the garden so much and won’t let anyone go in there.”

“How sad!” said Mary. “Poor Mr. Craven!” It was the first time she had ever felt sorry for anyone.

Just then, as she was listening to the wind outside, she heard another noise in the house.

“Can you hear a child crying?” she asked Martha.

Martha looked confused. “Er—no,” she replied. “No, I think… it must be the wind.”

But at that moment, the wind blew open their door, and they heard the crying very clearly.

“I told you!” cried Mary.

At once, Martha shut the door. “It was the wind,” she repeated. But she did not speak in her usual natural way, and Mary did not believe her.

Excitedly, Mary ne kaha, “Aur robin wahan rehta hai! Lekin door kahan hai?”

Us raat, usne Martha se kaha ki woh raat ko supper ke baad aag ke paas baat karein. Woh dono purane ghar ke bahar hawa chalne ki awaaz sun sakte the, lekin kamra garam aur aaramdayak tha. Mary ke dimaag mein ek hi khayal tha.

“Mujhe secret garden ke baare mein batao,” usne kaha.

“Theek hai, miss, lekin humein is baare mein baat nahi karni chahiye. Yeh Mrs. Craven ka pasandida garden tha, aur woh aur Mr. Craven iski dekhbhal khud karte the. Woh yahan ghanton guzarte the, padhte aur baat karte. Bahut khush they. Ek purani darakht ki shaakh ko baithne ke liye istemal karte the. Lekin ek din, jab woh shaakh par baithi thi, woh tooti aur woh gir gayi. Woh bahut bura ghaayal hui aur agle din mar gayi. Isliye Mr. Craven ko garden se itni nafrat hai aur woh kisi ko bhi wahan jaane nahi deta.”

“Kitna sad hai!” Mary ne kaha. “Bechare Mr. Craven!” Yeh pehli baar tha jab usne kisi ke liye dukh mehsoos kiya.

Tabhi, jab woh bahar ki hawa sun rahi thi, usne ek aur awaaz suni.

“Kya tumhe ek bachche ki roti sunayi de rahi hai?” usne Martha se poocha.

Martha ne confusion mein dekha. “Er—nahi,” usne jawab diya. “Nahi, mujhe lagta hai… yeh hawa ki awaaz hogi.”

Lekin usi waqt, hawa ne unka darwaza khol diya, aur unhone roti ki awaaz bilkul clearly suna.

“Maine kaha tha!” Mary ne kaha.

Turant, Martha ne darwaza band kar diya. “Yeh hawa thi,” usne dohraaya. Lekin uska jawab uski aam tareeqe se nahi tha, aur Mary ne us par vishwas nahi kiya.

The next day, it was very rainy, so Mary did not go out. Instead, she decided to wander around the house, looking into some of the hundred rooms that Mrs. Medlock had told her about. She spent all morning going in and out of dark, silent rooms, which were full of heavy furniture and old pictures. She saw no servants at all, and was on her way back to her room for lunch when she heard a cry. “It’s a bit like the cry that I heard last night!” she thought.

Just then, the housekeeper, Mrs. Medlock, appeared with her keys in her hand.

“What are you doing here?” she asked crossly.

“I didn’t know which way to go, and I heard someone crying,” answered Mary.

Agle din, bahar bahut barish ho rahi thi, isliye Mary bahar nahi gayi. Usne faisla kiya ki woh ghar ke andar ghoomegi, Mrs. Medlock se suna hua ek so-room wali baat ko dekhne ke liye. Usne pure subah andheray, khamosh kamron mein ghoomte hue guzara, jo bhari furniture aur purani tasveeron se bharay hue the. Usne koi servants nahi dekhe, aur woh lunch ke liye apne kamre ki taraf wapas ja rahi thi jab usne ek roti suni. “Yeh thodi si roti raat ko suni thi, waisa hi lag raha hai!” usne socha.

Tabhi, ghar ki housekeeper, Mrs. Medlock, apne chaabiyon ke saath aayi.

“Tum yahan kya kar rahi ho?” usne gusse se poocha.

“Mujhe nahi pata tha kis taraf jana hai, aur maine kisi ki roti suni,” Mary ne jawab diya.

“You didn’t hear anything! Go back to your room now. And if you don’t stay there, I’ll lock you in!” Mary hated Mrs. Medlock for this. “There was someone crying, I know there was!” she said to herself. “But I’ll discover who it is soon!” She was almost beginning to enjoy herself in Yorkshire.

“Tumne kuch nahi suna! Ab apne kamre mein wapas jao. Aur agar tum wahan nahi raho, to main tumhe andar band kar dungi!”

Mary ko Mrs. Medlock se nafrat ho gayi is baat par. “Koi ro raha tha, mujhe pata hai!” usne apne aap se kaha. “Par main jaldi hi yeh jaan lungi ki woh kaun hai!”

Woh ab Yorkshire mein thodi si khushi mehsoos kar rahi thi.

3
Finding the secret garden

When Mary woke up two days later, the wind and rain had all disappeared, and the sky was a beautiful blue.

“Spring’ll be here soon,” said Martha happily. “You’ll love the moor then, when it’s full of flowers and birds.”

“Could I get to the moor?” asked Mary.

“You’ve never done much walking, have you? I don’t think you could walk the five miles to our cottage!”

“But I’d like to meet your family,” Mary said.

Martha looked at the little girl for a moment. She remembered how disagreeable Mary had been when she first arrived. But now, Mary looked interested and friendly.

“I’ll ask Mother,” said Martha. “She can always think of a good plan. She’s sensible and hardworking and kind—I know you’ll like her.”

“I like Dickon, although I’ve never seen him.”

“I wonder what Dickon will think of you?”

Jab Mary ne do din baad aankhein kholi, to hawa aur baarish sab khatam ho chuki thi, aur aasman ek khoobsurat neela rang le chuka tha.

“Bahaar jaldi aa rahi hai,” Martha ne khushi se kaha. “Tumhe moor pasand aayega, jab woh phoolon aur parindon se bhar jayega.”

“Main moor tak kaise ja sakti hoon?” Mary ne poocha.

“Tumne kabhi zyada chalne ki aadat nahi ki, hai na? Main nahi samajhti tum paanch mile tak humare cottage tak chal paogi!”

“Lekin main tumhare gharwalon se milna chahti hoon,” Mary ne kaha.

Martha ne choti si ladki ko ek pal ke liye dekha. Usne yaad kiya ke jab Mary pehli baar aayi thi to kitni nafrat se bhari hui thi. Lekin ab, Mary ka chehra dilchaspi aur dosti se bhara hua tha.

“Main apni Ammi se poochungi,” Martha ne kaha. “Woh hamesha achi planning kar leti hain. Woh samajhdar aur mehnati hain, aur achi bhi—mujhe pata hai tumhe woh pasand aayengi.”

“Mujhe Dickon pasand hai, halankeh maine use kabhi nahi dekha.”

“Mujhe lagta hai Dickon tumhe dekh kar kya sochne wale hain?”

“He won’t like me,” said Mary. “No one does.”

“But do you like yourself? That’s what Mother would ask.”

“No, not really. I’ve never thought of that.”

“Well, I must go now. It’s my day off, so I’m going home to help Mother with the housework. Goodbye, miss. See you tomorrow.”

Mary felt lonelier than ever when Martha had gone, so she went outside. The sunshine made the gardens look different. And the change in the weather had even made Ben Weatherstaff easier to talk to.

“Can you smell spring in the air?” he asked her. “Things are growing, deep down in the ground. Soon you’ll see little green shoots coming up—young plants, they are. You watch them.”

“I will,” replied Mary. “Oh, there’s the robin!” The little bird hopped onto Ben’s spade. “Are things growing in the garden where he lives?”

“What garden?” said Ben, in his bad-tempered voice.

“You know, the secret garden. Are the flowers dead there?” She really wanted to know the answer.

“Ask the robin,” said Ben crossly. “He’s the only one who’s been in there for the last ten years.”

“Wo mujhe pasand nahi karega,” Mary ne kaha. “Koi bhi nahi karta.”

“Lekin kya tum apne aapko pasand karti ho? Yehi cheez meri Ammi poochti hain.”

“Nahi, itna nahi. Maine kabhi is baare mein socha nahi.”

“Toh mujhe ab chalna chahiye. Aaj mera din chhutti ka hai, isliye main ghar ja rahi hoon apni Ammi ki madad karne ke liye. Khuda Hafiz, miss. Kal milte hain.”

Jab Martha chale gayi, toh Mary ko zyada akela mehsoos hua, isliye usne bahar jana decide kiya. Suraj ki roshni se gardens kuch alag lag rahe the. Aur mausam ke tabdeel hone se Ben Weatherstaff se baat karna bhi aasan ho gaya tha.

“Kya tum hawa mein bahaar ki khushboo mehsoos kar rahi ho?” usne Mary se poocha. “Cheezain zameen ke neeche se ug rahi hain. Jaldi hi tum choti choti hari pattiyaan dekhoongi—nayi poday hain, woh hain. Tum unhe dekho.”

“Main dekhoongi,” Mary ne jawab diya. “Oh, waha robin hai!” Chhoti si chidiya Ben ke spade par aa gayi. “Kya uske garden mein cheezain ug rahi hain?”

“Kaisa garden?” Ben ne apni narazgi se kaha.

“Secret garden. Kya wahan phool mar gaye hain?” Usne sach mein jawab jana tha.

“Robin se poochho,” Ben ne gusse se kaha. “Wahi ek hi hai jo pichhle das saalon se wahan gaya hai.”

Ten years was a long time, Mary thought. She had been born ten years ago. She walked away, thinking. She had begun to like the gardens, and the robin, and Martha and Dickon and their mother. Before she came to Yorkshire, she had not liked anybody.

She was walking beside the long wall of the secret garden when a most wonderful thing happened. She suddenly realized the robin was following her. She felt very pleased and excited by this, and cried out, “You like me, don’t you? And I like you too!” As he hopped along beside her, she hopped and sang too, to show him that she was his friend. Just then, he stopped at a place where a dog had dug a hole in the ground. As Mary looked at the hole, she noticed something almost buried there. She put her hand in and pulled it out. It was an old key.

“Perhaps it’s been buried for ten years,” she whispered to herself. “Perhaps it’s the key to the secret garden!”

She looked at it for a long time. How lovely it would be to find the garden and see what had happened to it in the last ten years! She could play in it all by herself, and nobody would know she was there. She put the key safely in her pocket.

Dus saal ek lamba waqt hota hai, Mary ne socha. Uski umar bhi dus saal thi. Woh sochti hui chal rahi thi. Usne gardens, robin, aur Martha aur Dickon aur unki Ammi ko pasand karna shuru kar diya tha. Yorkshire aane se pehle, usne kisi ko pasand nahi kiya tha.

Woh secret garden ke lamba wall ke saath chal rahi thi jab ek ajeeb si cheez hui. Usne achanak realize kiya ke robin uske peeche chal raha tha. Yeh baat usko bahut khushi aur excitement di, aur usne cheekh kar kaha, “Tum mujhe pasand karte ho, hai na? Aur mujhe bhi tum pasand ho!” Jaise woh uske saath chaltay hue kudta aur gaata, usne bhi uski dosti dikhane ke liye uske saath kood kar aur gaana shuru kiya. Tabhi, robin ek jagah par ruk gaya jahan ek kutta zameen mein khadda kar raha tha. Mary ne khadde ko dekha aur notice kiya ke wahan kuch chhupa hua tha. Usne apna haath andar daala aur bahar nikal liya. Yeh ek purani chaabi thi.

“Shayad yeh dus saal se chhupi hui hai,” usne apne aap se kaha. “Shayad yeh secret garden ki chaabi hai!”

Usne isey bahut der tak dekha. Kitna acha hoga agar woh garden ko dhoondh le aur dekhe ke dus saalon mein wahan kya hua hai! Woh usme akeli khelnay lag sakti hai, aur koi bhi nahi jaane ga ke woh wahan hai. Usne chaabi ko apni pocket mein surakshit rakh liya.

The next morning, Martha was back at Misselthwaite Manor and told Mary all about her day with her family.

“I really enjoyed myself. I helped Mother with the whole week’s washing and baking. And I told the children about you. They wanted to know about your servants, and the ship that brought you to England, and everything!”

“I can tell you some more for next time,” offered Mary. “They’d like to hear about riding on elephants and camels, wouldn’t they?”

“Oh, that would be kind of you, miss! And look, Mother has sent you a present!”

Agli subah, Martha Misselthwaite Manor par wapas aayi aur Mary ko apne din ke baare mein bataya.

“Mujhe bahut maza aaya. Maine apni Ammi ke saath poore hafte ki dhulai aur baking ki madad ki. Aur maine bachon ko aapke baare mein bataya. Unhon ne aapke servants ke baare mein, aur woh jahaz jo aapko England le aaya, sab kuch jaana chaha!”

“Main agle baar aur bhi batayungi,” Mary ne kaha. “Unhein elephants aur camels par sawari ke baare mein sun’na pasand aayega, hai na?”

“Yeh aapki baat bahut achi hogi, miss! Aur dekhiye, Ammi ne aapke liye ek tohfa bheja hai!”

“A present!” repeated Mary. How could a family of fourteen hungry people give anyone a present?

“Mother bought it from a man who came to the door to sell things. She told me, ‘Martha, you’ve brought me your pay, like a good girl, and we need it all, but I’m going to buy something for that lonely child at the Manor,'” and she bought one, and here it is!”

It was a skipping-rope. Mary stared at it.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Don’t they have skipping-ropes in India? Well, this is how you use it. Just watch me.”

Martha took the rope and ran into the middle of the room. She counted up to a hundred as she skipped.

“That looks lovely,” said Mary. “Your mother is very kind. Do you think I could ever skip like that?”

“Just try,” said Martha. “Mother says it’ll make you strong and healthy. Skip outside in the fresh air.”

Mary put her coat on and took the skipping-rope. As she was opening the door, she thought of something and turned around.

“Martha, it was your money really. Thank you.” She never thanked people usually and didn’t know how to do it. So she held out her hand, because she knew that adults did that.

Martha shook her hand and laughed. “You’re a strange child,” she said. “Like an old woman! Now run away and play!”

The skipping-rope was wonderful. Mary counted and…

“Ek tohfa!” Mary ne dobaara kaha. Ek choddh ke logon ka family kisi ko tohfa kaise de sakti hai?

“Ammi ne ek aadmi se kharida jo chaddar bechne aaya tha. Unhon ne kaha, ‘Martha, tumne apni tankhwa sahi se laayi hai, aur humein sab chahiye, lekin main ek tohfa us akeli bachay ke liye kharidungi jo Manor mein rehti hai,'” aur isliye unhon ne ek khareeda, aur yeh raha!”

Yeh ek skipping-rope tha. Mary ne is par ghoor se dekha.

“Yeh kya hai?” usne poocha.

“Kya India mein skipping-ropes nahi hote? Yeh aise use karte hain. Bas mujhe dekho.”

Martha ne rope li aur room ke beech mein chali gayi. Usne sau tak gin’ kar skip kiya.

“Woh bahut accha lagta hai,” Mary ne kaha. “Aapki Ammi bahut achi hain. Kya main bhi aise skip kar sakungi?”

“Bas try karo,” Martha ne kaha. “Ammi kehti hain ki yeh tumhe strong aur healthy banayega. Bahar fresh air mein skip karo.”

Mary ne apni coat pehni aur skipping-rope uthaya. Jab woh darwaza khol rahi thi, toh usne ek cheez sochi aur palat gayi.

“Martha, asal mein yeh tumhara paise tha. Shukriya.” Usne aam taur pe logon ka shukriya nahi kiya tha aur nahi maloom tha kaise kehna hai. Isliye usne apna haath aage badhaya, kyunki usne suna tha ke bade log aisa karte hain.

Martha ne uska haath pakda aur hans padi. “Tum ajeeb bacchi ho,” usne kaha. “Jaise ek purani aurat! Ab bhago aur khelo!”

Skipping-rope bahut shandar tha. Mary ne gin’ kar shuru kiya aur…

Mary skipped and counted until her face was hot and red. She was having more fun than she had ever had before. She skipped through the gardens until she found Ben Weatherstaff, who was digging and talking to his robin. She wanted them both to see her skip.

“Well!” said Ben. “You’re looking fine and healthy today! Go on skipping. It’s good for you.”

Mary skipped all the way to the secret garden wall. And there was the robin! He had followed her! Mary was very pleased.

“You showed me where the key was yesterday,” she laughed. “I’ve got it in my pocket. So you ought to show me the door today!”

Mary ne skip karna aur gin’ karna shuru kiya, jab tak uska chehra garam aur laal ho gaya. Usne pehli baar itna maza aaya. Woh gardens mein skip karti rahi jab tak usne Ben Weatherstaff ko nahi dekha, jo apni robin se baat karte hue zameen khod raha tha. Usne dono ko apni skipping dikhana tha.

“Arrey!” Ben ne kaha. “Aaj tum achi aur healthy lag rahi ho! Skip karti raho. Yeh tumhare liye acha hai.”

Mary secret garden ke deewar tak skip karti gayi. Aur wahaan tha robin! Usne uska peecha kiya tha! Mary bohot khush hui.

“Kal tumne mujhe chabi ka pata bataya, aur ab mere paas woh pocket mein hai,” usne hans kar kaha. “Toh aaj tumhe mujhe darwaza dikhana chahiye!”

“Well!” said Ben. “You’re looking fine and healthy today! Go on skipping. It’s good for you.”

Mary skipped all the way to the secret garden wall. And there was the robin! He had followed her! Mary was very pleased.

“You showed me where the key was yesterday,” she laughed. “I’ve got it in my pocket. So you ought to show me the door today!”

“Arrey!” Ben ne kaha. “Aaj tum achi aur healthy lag rahi ho! Skip karti raho. Yeh tumhare liye acha hai.”

Mary secret garden ke deewar tak skip karti gayi. Aur wahaan tha robin! Usne uska peecha kiya tha! Mary bohot khush hui.

“Kal tumne mujhe chabi ka pata bataya, aur ab mere paas woh pocket mein hai,” usne hans kar kaha. “Toh aaj tumhe mujhe darwaza dikhana chahiye!”

The robin hopped onto an old climbing plant on the wall and sang his most beautiful song. Suddenly, the wind made the plant move, and Mary saw something under the dark green leaves. The thick, heavy plant was covering a door. Mary’s heart was beating fast, and her hands were shaking as she pushed the leaves away and found the keyhole. She took the key out of her pocket, and it fit perfectly. Using both hands, she managed to unlock the door. Then she turned to see if anyone was watching. But there was no one, so she pushed the door open slowly, for the first time in ten years. She walked quickly in and shut the door behind her. At last, she was inside the secret garden!

It was the loveliest, most exciting place she had ever seen. There were old rose trees everywhere, and the walls were covered with climbing roses. She looked carefully at the grey branches. Were the roses still alive? Ben would know. She hoped they weren’t all dead. But she was inside the wonderful garden, in a world of her own. It seemed very strange and silent, but she did not feel lonely at all. Then she noticed some small green shoots coming up through the grass. So something was growing in the garden after all!

When she found a lot more shoots in different places, she decided they needed more air and light, so she began to pull out the thick grass around them. She worked away, clearing the ground for two or three hours, and had to take her coat off because she got so hot. The robin hopped around, pleased to see someone gardening.

Robin purani chad’nay wali paudha par chad gaya aur apna sabse khoobsurat geet gaya. Achanak, hawa ne paudha ko hila diya, aur Mary ne dekha ke kale hare patton ke neeche kuch chhupa hua tha. Majboot aur bhaari paudha ek darwaza ko dhak raha tha. Mary ka dil tez dhadak raha tha, aur uske haath kaanp rahe thein jab usne patton ko hataaya aur chabi ka suraagh dekha. Usne chabi apni pocket se nikali aur dekha ke woh bilkul fit hoti hai. Dono haathon se, usne darwaza khol diya. Phir usne dekha ke koi dekh raha hai ya nahi. Lekin koi nahi tha, toh usne darwaza dheere se khola, pehli baar das saalon mein. Usne jaldi se andar chale gayi aur darwaza band kar diya. Aakhirkaar, woh secret garden ke andar thi!

Yeh sabse khoobsurat aur exciting jagah thi jo usne kabhi dekhi thi. Har jagah purane gulabon ke ped the, aur deewaaron par chadhne wale gulab lage hue thein. Usne dhyan se grey shaakhain dekhi. Kya gulab ab bhi zinda thein? Ben ko pata hoga. Usne umeed ki ke sab mar nahi gaye honge. Lekin woh itni shandar garden ke andar thi, apne hi ek duniya mein. Yeh bahut ajeeb aur khamosh lag raha tha, lekin usne bilkul bhi akelaapan mehsoos nahi kiya. Phir usne grass mein se chhoti chhoti hari nishan dekhe jo upar aa rahe thein. Toh kuch toh garden mein ug raha tha!

Jab usne aur bhi nishan alag alag jagahon par dekhe, toh usne decide kiya ke unhe zyada hawa aur roshni chahiye, isliye usne unke aas-paas ke ghans ko hataana shuru kiya. Usne do ya teen ghante tak mehnat ki, aur itna garmi lag rahi thi ke usne apni coat utaar di. Robin chakkar laga raha tha, khushi se dekhte hue ke koi gardening kar raha hai.

She almost forgot about lunch, and when she arrived back in her room, she was very hungry and ate twice as much as usual. “Martha,” she said as she was eating, “I’ve been thinking. This is a big, lonely house, and there isn’t much for me to do. Do you think, if I buy a little spade, I can make my own garden?”

“That’s just what Mother said,” replied Martha. “You’d enjoy digging and watching plants growing. Dickon can get you a spade and some seeds to plant, if you like.”

“Oh, thank you, Martha!” Mary exclaimed. “I’ve got some money that Mrs. Medlock gave me. Will you write and ask Dickon to buy them for me?”

“I will. And he’ll bring them to you himself.”

Mary’s face lit up with excitement. “Oh! Then I’ll see him.” Then she remembered something. “I heard that cry in the house again, Martha. It wasn’t the wind this time. I’ve heard it three times now. Who is it?”

Martha looked uncomfortable. “You mustn’t go wandering around the house, you know. Mr. Craven wouldn’t like it. Now I must go and help the others downstairs. I’ll see you at tea-time.”

As the door closed behind Martha, Mary thought to herself, “This really is the strangest house that anyone ever lived in.”

Mary lunch ka waqt almost bhool gayi, aur jab wo apne kamre mein wapas aayi, toh wo bahut bhookhi thi aur do barabar khana khaya. “Martha,” usne khana khaate hue kaha, “Mujhe sochna hai. Yeh bada aur akela ghar hai, aur mere paas zyada kuch karne ko nahi hai. Kya tumhare khayal se, agar main ek chhoti si spade le loon, toh kya main apna apna garden bana sakti hoon?”

“Meri Maa bhi wahi keh rahi thi,” Martha ne jawab diya. “Tumhein gardening aur podon ko ugte dekhna pasand aayega. Dickon tumhare liye spade aur kuch beej le aayega, agar tum chaaho.”

“Oh, shukriya, Martha!” Mary ne khushi se kaha. “Mere paas kuch paise hain jo Mrs. Medlock ne mujhe diye the. Kya tum likh ke Dickon se keh sakti ho ke woh yeh kharid le?”

“Main likh doongi. Aur woh khud tumhare liye le aayega.”

Mary ka chehra khushi se chamak gaya. “Oh! Phir main usse milungi.” Phir usne ek cheez yaad ki. “Maine ghar mein phir se woh roti sunni thi, Martha. Is baar hawa nahi thi. Main ne teen baar suna hai. Ye kiski awaz hai?”

Martha ne bechaini se kaha, “Tumhe ghar mein idhar-udhar nahi ghoomna chahiye. Mr. Craven ko yeh pasand nahi aayega. Ab mujhe neeche dusre logon ki madad karni hai. Tea-time par milte hain.”

Jaise hi Martha ne darwaza band kiya, Mary ne socha, “Yeh sach mein sabse ajeeb ghar hai jismein koi bhi rehta hai.”

4
Meeting Dickon

Mary spent nearly a week working in the secret garden. Each day she found new shoots coming out of the ground. Soon, there would be flowers everywhere – thousands of them. It was an exciting game to her. When she was inside those beautiful old walls, no one knew where she was.

During that week she became more friendly with Ben, who was often digging in one of the vegetable gardens.

“What are your favourite flowers, Ben?” she asked him one day.

“Roses. I used to work for a young lady who loved roses, you see, and she had a lot in her garden. That was ten years ago. But she died. Very sad, it was.”

“What happened to the roses?” asked Mary.

“They were left there, in the garden.”

“If rose branches look dry and grey, are they still alive?” asked Mary. It was so important to know!

“In the spring they’ll show green shoots, and then – But why are you so interested in roses?” he asked.

Mary’s face went red. “I just… wanted to pretend I’ve got a garden. I haven’t got anyone to play with.”

“Well, that’s true,” said Ben. He seemed to feel sorry for her. Mary decided she liked old Ben, although he was sometimes bad-tempered.

She skipped along and into the wood at the end of the garden. Suddenly she heard a strange noise, and there in front of her was a boy. He was sitting under a tree, playing on a wooden pipe. He was about twelve, with a healthy red face and bright blue eyes. There was a squirrel and a crow in the tree, and two rabbits sitting on the grass near him.

Mary ne lagbhag ek hafta secret garden mein kaam karte hue guzaara. Har din usay naye shoots zameen se nikalte hue nazar aate. Jald hi, wahan har jagah phool hi phool honge – hazaron ki tadaad mein. Usay ye sab ek dilchasp khel lagta tha. Jab wo un khubsurat purani deewaron ke andar hoti thi, koi nahi janta tha ke wo kahan hai.

Is haftay ke doran, wo Ben se zyada dostana ho gayi, jo aksar aik sabziyon ke baagh mein khodai kar raha hota tha.

“Tumhein kaun se phool pasand hain, Ben?” ek din usne us se poocha.

“Gulaab. Mein pehle aik jawan aurat ke liye kaam karta tha jo gulaabon se muhabbat karti thi, aur uske baagh mein bohot se gulaab thay. Ye das saal pehle ki baat hai. Magar wo mar gayi. Bohot afsos ki baat thi.”

“Gulaabon ka kya bana?” Mary ne poocha.

“Woh wahi reh gaye, baagh mein.”

“Agar gulaabon ki shaakhain sookh jaayein aur grey ho jayen, to kya wo ab bhi zinda hoti hain?” Mary ne poocha. Uske liye yeh jaan’na bohot zaroori tha!

“Basant ke mausam mein wo harey shoots nikalengi, aur phir – Magar tumhein itni dilchaspi kyu hai gulaabon mein?” usne poocha.

Mary ka chehra surkh ho gaya. “Mein bas… pretend karna chahti thi ke mere paas apna baagh hai. Mere paas khelne ke liye koi nahi hai.”

“Yeh to sach hai,” Ben ne kaha. Usay Mary par shayad afsos hua. Mary ne faisla kiya ke usay purana Ben acha lagta hai, halan ke kabhi kabhi wo chirchira hota tha.

Wo uchhalti koodti hui garden ke aakhir mein daryaft mein chali gayi. Achanak usay ek ajeeb awaaz sunayi di, aur uske samnay ek larka tha. Wo ek darakht ke neeche baitha hua tha, ek lakri ki pipe baja raha tha. Wo takreeban barah saal ka tha, sehatmand surkh chehra aur chamakdar neeli aankhein thi uski. Ek gilahri aur aik kauwa darakht mein thay, aur do khargosh uske qareeb ghaas par baithe huye thay.

“They’re listening to the music!’ thought Mary. ‘I mustn’t frighten them!’ She stood very still.

The boy stopped playing. “That’s right,’ he said. ‘Animals don’t like it if you move suddenly. I’m Dickon and you must be Miss Mary. I’ve brought you the spade and the seeds.’

He spoke in an easy, friendly way. Mary liked him at once. As they were looking at the seed packets together, the robin hopped on to a branch near them. Dickon listened carefully to the robin’s song.

‘He’s saying he’s your friend,’ he told Mary.

‘Really? Oh, I am pleased he likes me. Can you understand everything that birds say?’

‘I think I do, and they think I do. I’ve lived on the moor with them for so long. Sometimes I think I am a bird or an animal, not a boy at all!’ His smile was the widest she had ever seen.

He explained how to plant the seeds. Suddenly he said, ‘I can help you plant them! Where’s your garden?’

Mary went red, then white. She had never thought of this. What was she going to say?

‘Could you keep a secret? It’s a great secret. If anyone discovers it, I’ll… I’ll die!’

‘I keep secrets for all the wild birds and animals on the moor. So I can keep yours too,’ he replied.

‘I’ve stolen a garden,’ she said very fast. ‘Nobody goes into it, nobody wants it. I love it and nobody takes care of it! They’re letting it die!’ And she threw her arms over her face and started crying.

“Wo music sun rahe hain!” Mary ne socha. “Mujhe unhein darana nahi chahiye!” Wo bilkul chup chaap khari rahi.

Ladke ne bajana band kar diya. “Bilkul sahi,” usne kaha. “Janwaron ko achha nahi lagta agar tum achanak se hilne lago. Main Dickon hoon aur tum Miss Mary ho gi. Main tumhare liye khurpi aur beej laya hoon.”

Uska lehja bohot asaan aur dostana tha. Mary ko wo foran pasand aagaya. Jab wo beejon ke packets dekh rahe thay, to ek robin (chirraya) qareebi shaakh par aakar baith gayi. Dickon ne robin ki awaz ko ghor se suna.

“Wo keh raha hai ke wo tumhara dost hai,” usne Mary ko bataya.

“Waqai? Oh, main khush hoon ke usay main pasand hoon. Kya tum sach mein samajh sakte ho ke parinday kya keh rahe hain?”

“Mujhe lagta hai ke main samajhta hoon, aur wo bhi samajhte hain ke main unhein samajhta hoon. Main itne arsay se inke saath sehra mein reh raha hoon. Kabhi kabhi to mujhe lagta hai ke main ek parinda ya janwar hoon, ladka bilkul nahi!” Uski muskurahat itni chori thi jitni Mary ne kabhi nahi dekhi thi.

Usne samjhaya ke beej kaise boye jate hain. Achanak usne kaha, “Main tumhari madad kar sakta hoon beej boyne mein! Tumhara baagh kahan hai?”

Mary ka chehra surkh se safed hogaya. Usne kabhi is baare mein socha nahi tha. Ab wo kya kehti?

“Kya tum ek raaz rakh sakte ho? Yeh bohot bara raaz hai. Agar kisi ne isay jaan liya, to main… main mar jaungi!”

“Main sare jungli parindon aur janwaron ke raaz rakhta hoon. To main tumhara raaz bhi rakh sakta hoon,” usne jawab diya.

“Maine ek baagh chura liya hai,” Mary ne bohot tez kaha. “Koi usmein nahi jata, kisi ko uski parwa nahi hai. Main usay bohot pasand karti hoon aur koi uska khayal nahi rakhta! Wo usay marne de rahe hain!” Aur usne apne chehre par haath rakh liya aur rona shuru kar diya.

‘Don’t cry,’ said Dickon gently. “Where is it?”

‘Come with me and I’ll show you,’ said Miss Mary. They went to the secret garden and entered it together. Dickon walked round, looking at everything.

‘Martha told me about this place, but I never thought I’d see it,’ he said. ‘It’s wonderful!’

‘What about the roses?’ asked Mary worriedly. ‘Are they still alive? What do you think?’

‘Look at these shoots on the branches. Most of them are alive all right.’ He took out his knife and cut away some of the dead wood from the rose trees. Mary showed him the work she had done in the garden, and they talked as they cut and cleared.

‘Dickon,’ said Mary suddenly, ‘I like you. I never thought I’d like as many as five people!’

‘Only five!’ laughed Dickon.

He did look funny when he laughed, thought Mary.

‘Yes, your mother, Martha, the robin, Ben, and you.’ Then she asked him a question in Yorkshire dialect, because that was his language.

‘Does tha’ like me?’ was her question.

‘Of course! I likes thee wonderful!’ replied Dickon, a big smile on his round face. Mary had never been so happy. When she went back to the house for her lunch, she told Martha about Dickon’s visit.

‘I’ve got news for you too,’ said Martha. ‘Mr. Craven’s come home, and wants to see you! He’s going away again for several months.’

“Rona mat,” Dickon ne narm awaz mein kaha. “Yeh kahan hai?”

“Aao mere saath, main tumhe dikhati hoon,” Miss Mary ne kaha. Wo secret garden ki taraf chali gayi aur Dickon ke saath usmein ghusi. Dickon ne har cheez ko dekhte hue ghooma.

“Martha ne mujhe is jagah ke baare mein bataya tha, magar mujhe kabhi nahi laga ke main ise dekhoonga,” usne kaha. “Yeh to shaandaar hai!”

“Roses ka kya? Kya wo ab bhi zinda hain? Tumhein kya lagta hai?” Mary ne pareshani se poocha.

“In shaakhon par dekho ye naye shoots hain. Zyada tar zinda hain,” usne kaha aur apni chhuri se kuch murde lakdiya hata di. Mary ne usay garden mein kiye gaye kaam dikhaye aur dono ne kaat-te aur saaf kar-te waqt baat ki.

“Dickon,” Mary ne achanak kaha, “Mujhe tum pasand ho. Maine kabhi nahi socha tha ke main paanch logon ko pasand karungi!”

“Sirf paanch!” Dickon ne hasi se kaha.

Uski hasi dekh kar Mary ko laga ki wo funny lag raha hai.

“Haan, tumhari maa, Martha, robin, Ben, aur tum.” Phir usne Yorkshire dialect mein usse ek sawal poocha, kyunki ye uski zubaan thi.

“Does tha’ like me?” uska sawal tha.

“Bilkul! I likes thee wonderful!” Dickon ne jawab diya, uske gol-matol chehre par badi si muskurahat thi. Mary itni khush kabhi nahi hui thi. Jab wo lunch ke liye ghar gayi, to usne Martha ko Dickon ke visit ke baare mein bataya.

“Mujhe tumhare liye bhi ek khabar hai,” Martha ne kaha. “Mr. Craven ghar aa gaye hain aur tumse milna chahte hain! Wo phir se kuch mahine ke liye chalay jayenge.”

‘Oh!’ said Mary. That was good news. She would have all summer in the secret garden before he came back. But she must be careful. He mustn’t guess her secret now.

Just then Mrs. Medlock arrived, in her best black dress, to take Mary down to Mr. Craven’s room.

Mary’s uncle had black hair with some white in it, and high, crooked shoulders. His face was not ugly, but very sad. During their conversation, he watched her in a worried way. Perhaps he was thinking of other things at the same time.

He looked at the thin child. ‘Are you well?’ he asked. Mary tried to keep her voice calm as she replied, ‘I’m getting stronger and healthier.’

“Aray!” Mary ne kaha. Yeh acchi khabar thi. Uske paas summer ka pura waqt secret garden mein guzarne ka mauka tha, jab tak wo wapas nahi aate. Lekin usay ehtiyaat baratni chahiye. Ab uska raaz usay nahi pata chalna chahiye.

Tabhi Mrs. Medlock aayi, apne behtareen kale dress mein, Mary ko Mr. Craven ke kamre mein le jane ke liye.

Mary ke uncle ke kale baal the, jinmein kuch safed bhi tha, aur unki kandhe uche aur tedhe the. Unka chehra badsurat nahi tha, lekin bohot udas tha. Baatchit ke dauran, unhone usay pareshani se dekha. Shayad wo ek hi waqt par kuch aur soch rahe the.

Unhone patli bacchi ko dekha. “Kya tum theek ho?” unhone poocha. Mary ne apni awaz ko pur-sukoon rakhne ki koshish ki aur jawab diya, “Main zyada mazboot aur sehatmand ho rahi hoon.”

‘What do you want to do, in this big empty house?’

‘I… I just want to play outside – I enjoy that.’

‘Yes, Martha’s mother, Susan Sowerby, spoke to me the other day. She’s a sensible woman – and she said you needed fresh air. But where do you play?’

‘Everywhere! I just skip and run – and look for green shoots. I don’t damage anything!’

‘Don’t look so frightened! Of course, a child like you couldn’t damage anything. Play where you like. Is there anything that you want?’

Mary came a step nearer to him, and her voice shook a little as she spoke. ‘Could I… could I have a bit of garden?’

Mr. Craven looked very surprised.

“To plant seeds in… to make them come alive!’ Mary went on bravely. ‘It was too hot in India, so I was always ill and tired there. But here it’s different. I… I love the garden!’

He passed a hand quickly over his eyes. Then he looked kindly at Mary. ‘I knew someone once who loved growing things, like you. Yes, child, take as much of the garden as you want.’ He smiled gently at her. ‘Now leave me. I’m very tired.’

Mary ran all the way back to her room.

‘Martha!’ she shouted. ‘Mr. Craven’s really a nice man, but he looks very unhappy. He said I can have my own garden!’

She was planning to work in the garden with Dickon every day, to make it beautiful for the summer.

“Tum is bade khaali ghar mein kya karna chahti ho?” Mr. Craven ne poocha.

“Main… main bahar khelna chahti hoon – mujhe wo pasand hai,” Mary ne jawab diya.

“Haan, Martha ki maa, Susan Sowerby, ne mujhse kuch din pehle baat ki thi. Wo samajhdar aurat hai – aur usne kaha ke tumhein fresh hawa ki zaroorat hai. Lekin tum kahan khelti ho?”

“Har jagah! Main bas koodti aur daudti hoon – aur harey shoots dhoondti hoon. Main kuch bhi nuksan nahi karti!”

“Yeh itna dar mat dikhaiye! Tum jaise bachay kuch nuksan nahi kar sakte. Jahan chaho khelo. Tumhe kuch chahiye?”

Mary uske paas ek kadam aur aayi, aur uski awaz thodi si kaanp gayi jab usne bola, “Kya mujhe… kya mujhe thoda garden mil sakta hai?”

Mr. Craven bohot hairaan hue.

“Beej bone ke liye… unhein zinda karne ke liye!” Mary ne himmat se kaha. “India mein bahut garmi thi, isliye main hamesha bimaar aur thaki rehti thi. Lekin yahan alag hai. Main… main garden ko pyar karti hoon!”

Unhone apni aankhon ke upar jaldi se haath rakha. Phir unhone Mary ko pyar se dekha. “Maine ek baar ek aise insaan ko jaana jo tumhare tarah cheezon ko ugane se pyar karta tha. Haan, bachay, jitna chaaho garden le lo.” Unhone uske liye dheere se muskuraya. “Ab mujhe chhod do. Main bahut thaka hua hoon.”

Mary ne apne kamre tak daud kar wapas aayi.

“Martha!” usne cheekh kar kaha. “Mr. Craven waqai mein achhe insaan hain, magar wo bohot udas lagte hain. Unhone kaha ke mujhe apna garden mil sakta hai!”

Usne plan kiya ke wo har din Dickon ke saath garden mein kaam karegi, taake summer ke liye use khoobsurat bana sake.

5
Meeting Dickon

In the middle of the night, Mary woke up. Heavy rain had started falling again, and the wind was blowing violently around the walls of the old house. Suddenly, she heard crying again. This time, she decided to discover who it was. She left her room and, in the darkness, followed the crying sound—round corners and through doors, up and down stairs, to the other side of the big house. At last, she found the right room. She pushed the door open and went in.

It was a big room with beautiful old furniture and pictures. In the large bed was a boy, who looked tired and cross, with a thin, white, tearful face. He stared at Mary.

‘Who are you?’ he whispered. ‘Are you a dream?’

Raat ke beech mein, Mary ki aankh khul gayi. Bahar phir se tez barish shuru ho gayi thi, aur hawa purani haveli ki deewaron ke ird gird zor se chal rahi thi. Achanak, usne phir se rone ki awaz suni. Is dafa, usne faisla kiya ke wo maloom karegi ke ye kaun hai. Wo apne kamre se nikal gayi aur andhere mein rone ki awaz ka peecha karte hue koneon ke chakkar kaate, darwazon se guzri, seerhiyon se upar neeche gayi, aur ghar ke doosre hisse mein pohonch gayi. Aakhirkar, usne sahi kamra dhoondh liya. Usne darwaza dhakela aur andar chali gayi.

Yeh ek bara kamra tha jismein purane aur khubsurat furniture aur tasveerain thi. Badi si bed par ek ladka tha, jo thaka hua aur naraz lag raha tha, uska patla, safed aur aansuon se bhara chehra tha. Usne Mary ko ghoora.

“Tum kaun ho?” usne dheere se kaha. “Kya tum koi sapna ho?”

‘No, I’m not. I’m Mary Lennox. Mr Craven’s my uncle.’

‘He’s my father,’ said the boy. ‘I’m Colin Craven.’

‘No one ever told me he had a son!’ said Mary, very surprised.

‘Well, no one ever told me you’d come to live here. I’m ill, you see. I don’t want people to see me and talk about me. If I live, I may have a crooked back like my father, but I’ll probably die.’

‘What a strange house this is!’ said Mary. ‘So many secrets! Does your father come and see you often?’

‘Not often. He doesn’t like seeing me because it makes him remember my mother. She died when I was born, so he almost hates me, I think.’

‘Why do you say you’re going to die?’ asked Mary.

‘I’ve always been ill. I’ve nearly died several times, and my back’s never been strong. My doctor feels sure that I’m going to die. But he’s my father’s cousin, and very poor, so he’d like me to die. Then he’d get all the money when my father dies. He gives me medicine and tells me to rest. We had a grand doctor from London once, who told me to go out in the fresh air and try to get well. But I hate fresh air. And another thing, all the servants have to do what I want, because if I’m angry, I become ill.’

Mary thought she liked this boy, although he seemed so strange. He asked her lots of questions, and she told him all about her life in India.

‘How old are you?’ he asked suddenly.

‘I’m ten, and so are you,’ replied Mary, forgetting to be careful.

“Nahi, main koi sapna nahi hoon. Main Mary Lennox hoon. Mr. Craven mere uncle hain.”

“Wo mere walid hain,” ladke ne kaha. “Main Colin Craven hoon.”

“Mujhe kisi ne nahi bataya ke unka ek beta bhi hai!” Mary ne bohot hairani se kaha.

“Toh mujhe bhi kisi ne nahi bataya ke tum yahan rehne aayi ho. Main beemaar hoon, samajhti ho na. Main nahi chahta ke log mujhe dekhein aur mere baare mein baatein karein. Agar main zinda raha, toh shayad meri peeth mere walid ki tarah tedhi ho jayegi, lekin zyadah imkaan hai ke main mar jaunga.”

“Yeh ghar kitna ajeeb hai!” Mary ne kaha. “Itne saare raaz hain! Kya tumhare walid tumse aksar milne aate hain?”

“Zyada nahi. Unhe mujhse milna pasand nahi hai kyun ke isse unhe meri maa yaad aati hain. Jab meri paidaish hui thi tab meri maa ka inteqal ho gaya tha, isliye mujhe lagta hai ke wo mujhse taqreeban nafrat karte hain.”

“Tum kyun kehte ho ke tum marne wale ho?” Mary ne poocha.

“Mujhe hamesha se bimari rahi hai. Main kai dafa lagbhag marne wala tha, aur meri peeth kabhi mazboot nahi rahi. Mera doctor samajhta hai ke main marne wala hoon. Lekin wo mere walid ka cousin hai, aur bohot gareeb bhi, isliye wo chahta hai ke main mar jaoon. Phir jab mere walid marenge toh sari daulat usse mil jayegi. Wo mujhe dawai deta hai aur aaram karne ko kehta hai. Ek dafa humne London se ek bade doctor ko bulaya tha, jisne mujhe kaha tha ke main fresh air mein jaoon aur apni sehat behter karoon. Lekin mujhe fresh air se nafrat hai. Aur ek aur baat, sab naukaron ko meri marzi ke mutabiq chalna padta hai, kyunki agar main gussa hoon, toh meri tabiyat kharab ho jati hai.”

Mary ko laga ke usay yeh ladka pasand aaya, halan ke wo bohot ajeeb lag raha tha. Usne Mary se bohot saare sawal kiye, aur Mary ne use apni zindagi ke baare mein sab kuch bata diya jo usne India mein guzari thi.

“Tumhari umar kitni hai?” usne achanak poocha.

“Main dus saal ki hoon, aur tum bhi,” Mary ne jawab diya, apni ehtiyaat bhool kar.

‘Because when you were born the garden door was locked and the key was buried. And I know that was ten years ago.’

Colin sat up in bed and looked very interested. ‘What door? Who locked it? Where’s the key? I want to see it. I’ll make the servants tell me where it is. They’ll take me there and you can come too.’

‘Oh, please! Don’t—don’t do that!’ cried Mary.

Colin stared at her. ‘Don’t you want to see it?’

‘Yes, but if you make them open the door, it will never be a secret again. You see, if only we know about it, if we—if we can find the key, we can go and play there every day. We can help the garden come alive again. And no one will know about it—except us!’

‘I see,’ said Colin slowly. ‘Yes, I’d like that. It’ll be our secret. I’ve never had a secret before.’

‘And perhaps,’ added Mary cleverly, ‘we can find a boy to push you in your wheelchair, if you can’t walk, and we can go there together without any other people. You’ll feel better outside. I know I do.’

‘I’d like that,’ he said dreamily. ‘I think I’d like fresh air, in a secret garden.’

Then Mary told him about the moor, and Dickon, and Ben Weatherstaff, and the robin, and Colin listened to it all with great interest. He began to smile and look much happier.

‘I like having you here,’ he said. ‘You must come and see me every day. But I’m tired now.’

“Jab tum paida hue the, toh garden ka darwaza band kar diya gaya tha aur chabi zameen mein dafan kar di gayi thi. Aur mujhe pata hai ke yeh das saal pehle ki baat hai.”

Colin bistar par uth kar baith gaya aur bohot dilchaspi se bola, “Konsa darwaza? Kisne band kiya tha? Chabi kahan hai? Main dekhna chahta hoon. Main naukaron se kehkar pata karwa loonga ke chabi kahan hai. Wo mujhe wahan le jayenge aur tum bhi saath chalna.”

“Oh, please! Aisa mat karo!” Mary cheekh pari.

Colin ne usay ghoor kar dekha. “Tum dekhna nahi chahti?”

“Haan, lekin agar tum darwaza khulwa do ge, toh yeh raaz kabhi raaz nahi rahega. Dekho, agar sirf hum dono ko pata ho, agar hum—agar hum chabi dhoondh sakain, toh hum wahan har din khelne ja sakte hain. Hum garden ko phir se zinda kar sakte hain. Aur kisi ko pata bhi nahi chalega—siwaye humare!”

“Samajh gaya,” Colin dheere se bola. “Haan, mujhe yeh pasand aayega. Yeh hamara raaz hoga. Mere paas kabhi koi raaz nahi tha.”

“Aur shayad,” Mary ne chalaki se kaha, “hum koi ladka dhoondh sakain jo tumhe tumhari wheelchair mein dhakel kar le jaye agar tum chal nahi sakte, aur hum bina kisi aur ke wahan ja sakein. Tumhe bahar acha mehsoos hoga. Mujhe toh lagta hai ke mujhe bahar achi hawa se fayda hota hai.”

“Mujhe yeh pasand aayega,” Colin ne khwab dekhne ke andaz mein kaha. “Mujhe lagta hai ke mujhe bhi fresh air pasand aayegi, ek secret garden mein.”

Phir Mary ne usay moor, Dickon, Ben Weatherstaff aur robin ke baare mein bataya, aur Colin bohot shauq se sab kuch sunta raha. Wo muskurane laga aur bohot khush lagne laga.

“Mujhe tumhara yahan hona acha lagta hai,” usne kaha. “Tum roz mujhe milne aaya karo. Lekin ab main thak gaya hoon.”

‘I’ll sing you a song. My servant Kamala used to do that in India,’ said Mary, and very soon Colin was asleep.

The next afternoon Mary visited Colin again, and he seemed very pleased to see her. He had sent his nurse away and had told nobody about Mary’s visit. Mary had not told anybody either. They read some of his books together, and told each other stories. They were enjoying themselves and laughing loudly when suddenly the door opened. Dr. Craven and Mrs. Medlock came in. They almost fell over in surprise.

‘What’s happening here?’ asked Dr. Craven.

Colin sat up straight. To Mary, he looked just like an Indian prince. ‘This is my cousin, Mary Lennox,’ he said calmly. ‘I like her. She must visit me often.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, sir,’ said poor Mrs. Medlock to the doctor. ‘I don’t know how she discovered him. I told the servants to keep it a secret.’

‘Don’t be stupid, Medlock,’ said the Indian prince coldly. ‘Nobody told her. She heard me crying and found me herself. Bring our tea up now.’

‘I’m afraid you’re getting too hot and excited, my boy,’ said Dr. Craven. ‘That’s not good for you. Don’t forget you’re ill.’

‘I want to forget!’ said Colin. ‘I’ll be angry if Mary doesn’t visit me! She makes me feel better.’

Dr. Craven did not look happy when he left the room.

‘What a change in the boy, sir!’ said the housekeeper. ‘He’s usually so disagreeable with all of us. He really seems to like that strange little girl. And he does look better.’

Dr. Craven had to agree.

“Main tumhe ek gana sunaungi. Mera naukar Kamala India mein aisa karta tha,” Mary ne kaha, aur Colin jaldi hi so gaya.

Agli dopehar, Mary phir Colin se milne gayi, aur wo usay dekh kar bohot khush hua. Usne apni nurse ko chhutti de di thi aur kisi ko Mary ke visit ke baare mein nahi bataya. Mary ne bhi kisi ko nahi bataya tha. Dono ne mil kar kuch uske kitaabein parhein aur ek doosray ko kahaniyan sunai. Wo maze se hans rahe the jab achanak darwaza khula. Dr. Craven aur Mrs. Medlock andar aaye. Wo surprise mein lagbhag girte girte bache.

“Yahan kya ho raha hai?” Dr. Craven ne poocha.

Colin seedha baith gaya. Mary ko wo bilkul ek Indian shehzada lag raha tha. “Yeh meri cousin, Mary Lennox hai,” usne aaraam se kaha. “Mujhe yeh pasand hai. Yeh mujh se aksar milne aayegi.”

“Oh, mujhe maaf kar dein, sir,” bechari Mrs. Medlock ne doctor se kaha. “Mujhe nahi pata ke usay kaise pata chala. Maine naukaron ko kaha tha ke yeh raaz rakhein.”

“Medlock, bewakoofi mat karo,” Indian shehzada thande lehje mein bola. “Kisi ne usay nahi bataya. Usne mujhe rote hue suna aur khud hi dhoondh liya. Ab hamara chai upar lao.”

“Mujhe dar hai ke tum bohot garam aur excite ho rahe ho, mere bête,” Dr. Craven ne kaha. “Yeh tumhare liye acha nahi hai. Bhoolo mat ke tum bimar ho.”

“Mujhe bhoolna hai!” Colin ne kaha. “Main naraz ho jaunga agar Mary mujh se milne nahi aayi! Wo mujhe acha mehsoos karwati hai.”

Dr. Craven ko yeh baat pasand nahi aayi jab wo kamre se bahar gaya.

“Kitni tabdeeli hai is larke mein, sir!” housekeeper ne kaha. “Wo aam tor par hum sab ke saath bohot badtameez rehta hai. Usay sach mein yeh ajeeb si chhoti larki pasand aati hai. Aur wo waqai behtar lag raha hai.”

Dr. Craven ko yeh baat maanni pari.

6
Colin is afraid

Because it rained all the next week, Mary went to talk to herself in her room. She woke early one morning to see the sun shining into her room, and she ran out to the secret garden at once. She did not even wait to have her breakfast. It was beautifully sunny and warm, and a thousand more shoots were pushing their way out of the ground.

Dickon was already there, digging hard, with the crow and a young fox beside him.

‘Have you seen the robin?’ he asked Mary.

The little bird was flying busily backwards and forwards as fast as he could, carrying pieces of dry grass.

‘He’s building a nest!’ whispered Mary.

They watched the robin for a moment. Then Mary said, ‘I must tell you something. You probably know about Colin Craven, don’t you? Well, I’ve met him, and I’m going to help him to get better.’

“Chunki puri agle hafte barish hoti rahi, Mary ne apne kamre mein akele baat karna shuru kar diya. Ek subah, usne dekha ke suraj uske kamre mein chamak raha tha, aur wo foran secret garden ki taraf daudi. Usne nashta bhi nahi kiya. Bahar bohot dhoop thi aur garam bhi, aur hazaron naye shoots zameen se nikal rahe the.

Dickon wahan pehle se hi tha, zor se khudai kar raha tha, ek kauwa aur ek chhoti lomri uske paas thi.

‘Kya tumne robin dekha?’ usne Mary se poocha.

Chhoti parinda bohot tez tez udte hue sukhay hue ghas ke tukde le ja raha tha.

‘Wo ek nest bana raha hai!’ Mary ne dheere se kaha.

Unhone ek pal ke liye robin ko dekha. Phir Mary ne kaha, ‘Mujhe tumhe ek baat batani hai. Tumhe shayad Colin Craven ke baare mein pata hoga, hai na? Achha, maine usse mila hai aur main uski madad karungi ke wo theek ho jaye.'”

‘That’s good news.’ There was a big smile on Dickon’s honest face. ‘We all knew he was ill.’

‘He’s afraid he’ll have a crooked back like his father. I think that’s what’s making him ill.’

‘Perhaps we can bring him here and let him rest under the trees. That’ll do him good. That’s what we’ll do.’

They had a lot of gardening and planning to do and Mary did not have time to visit Colin that day. When she came back to the house in the evening, Martha told her that the servants had had trouble with Colin.

‘He’s been very bad-tempered all afternoon with all of us, because you didn’t come, miss.’

‘Well, I was busy. He’ll have to learn not to be so selfish,’ replied Mary coldly. She forgot how selfish she had been when she was ill in India. ‘I’ll go and see him now.’

When she went into his room, he was lying in bed, looking tired. He did not turn to look at her.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ she asked crossly.

‘My back aches and my head hurts. Why didn’t you come this afternoon?’

‘I was working in the garden with Dickon.’

‘I won’t let that boy come to the garden if you stay with him instead of talking to me!’

Mary suddenly became very angry. ‘If you send Dickon away, I’ll never come into this room again!’

‘You’ll have to, if I say so. I’ll make the servants bring you in here.’

‘Oh, will you, prince! But no one can make me talk to you.’

“Yeh achhi khabar hai.” Dickon ke imaandaar chehre par bada sa smile tha. “Hum sabko pata tha ke wo bimaar hai.”

“Wo darr raha hai ke uska bhi peeth uske baap ki tarah tedha ho jayega. Mujhe lagta hai yahi cheez usse bimaar kar rahi hai.”

“Shaayad hum use yahan laa sakte hain aur pedon ke neeche aaraam karne de sakte hain. Isse use fayda hoga. Yeh hum zaroor karenge.”

Unke paas bahut saari gardening aur planning ka kaam tha aur Mary ko us din Colin se milne ka waqt nahi mila. Jab wo shaam ko ghar aayi, Martha ne bataya ke naukaron ko Colin ke saath pareshani hui.

“Wo poore dopahar hum sab ke saath bohot badtameezi kar raha tha, kyunki tum nahi aayi, miss.”

“Toh? Main busy thi. Use seekhna hoga ke itna selfish kaise nahi hona chahiye,” Mary ne thande se jawab diya. Usne bhool gaya ke jab wo India mein bimaar thi, tab wo bhi selfish thi. “Main abhi usse milne jaungi.”

Jab wo uske kamre mein gayi, to Colin bed par leita hua tha, thaka hua lag raha tha. Usne uski taraf dekhna bhi nahi kiya.

“Tumhe kya ho gaya hai?” Mary ne gusse se poocha.

“Mere peeth mein dard hai aur sir bhi dard kar raha hai. Tumne aaj dopahar ko kyun nahi aayi?”

“Main garden mein Dickon ke saath kaam kar rahi thi.”

“Main us ladke ko garden mein nahi aane doonga agar tum uske saath raho aur mere saath baat nahi karti!”

Mary achanak bohot gusse mein aagayi. “Agar tum Dickon ko bhejoge, to main kabhi bhi is kamre mein nahi aungi!”

“Tumhe aana hi padega agar main kahunga. Main naukaron ko tumhe yahan le aane ke liye keh doonga.”

“Oh, tum karo, shehzada! Lekin koi bhi mujhe tumse baat karne par majboor nahi kar sakta.”

‘I won’t look at you. I’ll stare at the floor!’

‘You selfish girl!’ cried Colin.

‘You’re more selfish than I am. You’re the most selfish boy I’ve ever met!’

‘I’m not as selfish as your fine Dickon! He keeps you playing outside when he knows I’m ill and alone!’

Mary had never been so furious. ‘Dickon is nicer than any other boy in the world! He’s like an angel!’

‘An angel! Don’t make me laugh! He’s just a poor country boy, with holes in his shoes!’

‘He’s a thousand times better than you are!’

Colin had never argued with anyone like himself in his life, and in fact, it was good for him. But now he was beginning to feel sorry for himself.

‘I’m always ill,’ he said, and started to cry. ‘I’m sure my back is a bit crooked. And I’m going to die!’

‘No, you’re not!’ said Mary crossly.

Colin opened his eyes very wide. Nobody had said that to him before. He was angry but a bit pleased at the same time. ‘What do you mean? You know I’m going to die! Everybody says I’m going to die!’

‘I don’t believe it!’ said Mary in her most disagreeable voice. ‘You just say that to make people feel sorry for you. You’re too horrid to die!’

Colin forgot about his painful back and sat up in bed. ‘Get out of the room at once!’ he shouted, and threw a book at her.

‘I’m going,’ Mary shouted in reply, ‘and I won’t come back!’ The door banged shut behind her.

‘Main tumhe nahi dekhungi. Main sirf zameen ko ghoorungi!’

‘Tum bilkul selfish ladki ho!’ Colin ne cheekh kar kaha.

‘Tum mujhse zyada selfish ho. Tum sabse zyada selfish ladka ho jise maine dekha hai!’

‘Main tumhare achhe Dickon se itna selfish nahi hoon! Wo tumhe bahar khelenge rakhta hai jab use pata hai ke main bimaar aur akela hoon!’

Mary itni gusse mein thi ki kabhi nahi hui thi. ‘Dickon duniya ke kisi bhi ladke se zyada achha hai! Wo ek farishte ki tarah hai!’

‘Farishte! Mujhe hasao mat! Wo sirf ek gareeb gaon ka ladka hai, jiske jute mein ched hain!’

‘Wo hazaron bar zyada achha hai tumse!’

Colin ne apni zindagi mein kabhi kisi se is tarah se behas nahi ki thi, aur asal mein, ye uske liye achha tha. Lekin ab wo apne liye afsos karne laga tha.

‘Main hamesha bimaar rehta hoon,’ usne kaha, aur ro parda. ‘Mujhe lagta hai mera peeth thoda tedha hai. Aur main marne wala hoon!’

‘Nahi, tum nahi maroge!’ Mary ne gusse se kaha.

Colin ne apni aankhein bade bade karke kholi. Kisi ne usse pehle ye baat nahi kahi thi. Wo gussa tha lekin thoda khush bhi tha. ‘Tumhara kya matlab hai? Tumhe pata hai ke main marne wala hoon! Sabhi kehte hain ke main marne wala hoon!’

‘Main ye nahi maanti!’ Mary ne apni sabse behtareen nafrat bhari awaz mein kaha. ‘Tum bas ye keh rahe ho taake log tumhare liye afsos karen. Tum marne ke liye itne bure ho!’

Colin ne apne dard bhare peeth ko bhool gaya aur bed par baith gaya. ‘Turant kamre se bahar nikal jao!’ usne cheekh kar kaha, aur uske upar ek kitaab fek di.

‘Main ja rahi hoon,’ Mary ne jawab diya, ‘aur main wapas nahi aungi!’ Darwaza zordar se band ho gaya uske peeche.”

When she reached her own room, she had decided never to tell him her great secret. ‘He can stay in his room and die if he wants!’ she thought. But soon she began to remember how ill he had been, and how frightened he was, frightened that one day his back would become as crooked as his father’s. ‘Perhaps… perhaps I’ll go back and see him tomorrow!’

That night she was woken by the most terrible screams that she had ever heard. Servants were opening and shutting doors and running about. ‘It’s Colin!’ thought Mary. ‘He’ll go on screaming until he makes himself really ill! How selfish he is! Somebody should stop him!’

Just then Martha ran into the room. ‘We don’t know what to do!’ she cried. ‘He likes you, miss! Come and see if you can make him calmer, please!’

‘Well, I’m very cross with him,’ said Mary, and jumped out of bed. ‘I’m going to stop him!’

“That’s right,’ said Martha. ‘He needs someone like you to argue with. It’ll give him something new to think about.” Mary ran into Colin’s room, right up to his bed.

‘Stop screaming!’ she shouted furiously. ‘Stop at once! I hate you! Everybody hates you! You’ll die if you go on screaming like this, and I hope you will!’

The screams stopped immediately. This was the first time that anyone had spoken so angrily to Colin, and he was shocked. But he went on crying quietly to himself.

‘My back’s becoming crooked, I can feel it! I know I’m going to die!’ Large tears ran down his face.

‘Don’t be stupid!’ cried Mary. ‘There’s nothing the matter with your horrid back! Martha, come here and help me look at his back!’

Martha and Mrs Medlock were standing at the door, staring at Mary, their mouths half open. They both looked very frightened. Martha came forward to help, and Miss Mary looked carefully at Colin’s thin white back, up and down. Her face was serious and angry at the same time. The room was very quiet.

“Jab Mary apne kamre mein pohnchi, usne faisla kiya ke kabhi bhi Colin ko apna bara raaz nahi batayegi. ‘Wo apne kamre mein rahe aur mar jaaye agar usse yehi chahiye!’ usne socha. Lekin jaldi hi usne yaad kiya ke wo kitna bimaar tha, aur kitna dar raha tha ke ek din uska peeth apne baap jaisa tedha ho jayega. ‘Shayad… shayad main kal wapas jaake usse miloon!’

Us raat usne sabse bhayanak cheekhon ki awaaz suni jo usne kabhi suni thi. Naukraniyan darwaze khol rahi thi aur band kar rahi thi aur idhar-udhar daud rahi thi. ‘Yeh Colin hai!’ Mary ne socha. ‘Wo cheekh-chaar kar apne aap ko bimaar bana lega! Kitna selfish hai wo! Koi ise rokna chahiye!’

Tabhi Martha kamre mein aayi. ‘Hum nahi jaanate kya karein!’ usne cheekh kar kaha. ‘Wo tumhe pasand karta hai, miss! Aao aur dekho agar tum use shant kar sakti ho!’

‘Well, main usse bohot naraz hoon,’ Mary ne kaha, aur bistar se uth gayi. ‘Main use rokne ja rahi hoon!’

‘Yahi sahi hai,’ Martha ne kaha. ‘Usse tumhari zaroorat hai, tumse behas karke usse kuch naya sochne ko milega.’ Mary Colin ke kamre mein daudi, sidha uske bistar tak.

‘Cheekhna band karo!’ usne gusse se cheecha. ‘Turant band karo! Main tumse nafrat karti hoon! Sab tumse nafrat karte hain! Tum mar jaoge agar tum aise cheekhte rahoge, aur main ummid karti hoon ke tum mar jaoge!’

Cheekhien turant band ho gayi. Ye pehli baar tha jab kisi ne Colin se itni gusse bhari baat ki thi, aur wo hairaan ho gaya. Lekin wo chupke se rone laga.

‘Mera peeth tedha ho raha hai, mujhe mehsoos ho raha hai! Main jaanta hoon ke main marne wala hoon!’ Badi-badi aasu uske chehre se beh rahe the.

‘Bewakoof mat bano!’ Mary ne cheekh kar kaha. ‘Tumhare bure peeth mein kuch bhi galat nahi hai! Martha, yahan aao aur meri madad karo uska peeth dekhne mein!’

Martha aur Mrs. Medlock darwaze par khade, Mary ko ghoor rahe the, unki aankhon mein dar bhar gaya tha. Martha aage aayi madad karne ke liye, aur Miss Mary ne Colin ke patle, safed peeth ko dhyan se dekha, upar se neeche tak. Uska chehra ek hi waqt pe serious aur angry tha. Kamra bilkul khamosh tha.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your back!” she said at last. “Nothing at all! It’s as straight as mine!”

Only Colin knew how important those crossly spoken, childish words were. All his life he had been afraid to ask about his back, and his terrible fear had made him ill. Now an angry little girl told him his back was straight, and he believed her. He was no longer afraid.

They were both calmer now. He gave Mary his hand. “I think—I’m almost sure I will live, if we can go out in the garden together sometimes. I’m very tired now. Will you stay with me until I go to sleep?”

The servants went out very quietly.

“I’ll tell you all about the secret garden,” whispered Mary. “I think it’s full of roses and beautiful flowers. Birds like making their nests there because it’s so quiet and safe. And perhaps our robin…”

But Colin was already asleep.

The next day Mary met Dickon as usual in the secret garden, and told him about Colin. Mary loved Dickon’s Yorkshire dialect and was trying to learn it herself. She spoke a little now.

‘Tumhare peeth mein kuch bhi galat nahi hai!’ usne aakhirkar kaha. ‘Bilkul bhi nahi! Ye bilkul seedha hai meri tarah!’

Sirf Colin hi janta tha ke ye gusse se bhari, bachon ki tarah boli gayi baatein kitni ahem thi. Apni zindagi mein usne kabhi bhi apne peeth ke baare mein poocha nahi tha, aur uski bhayankar dar ne usse bimaar kar diya tha. Ab ek gusse se bhari choti ladki ne usse kaha ke uska peeth seedha hai, aur usne uski baat maan li. Ab wo dar ke marne ke dar se mukti pa gaya tha.

Dono ab shant the. Usne Mary ka haath pakda. ‘Mujhe lagta hai—main lagbhag sure hoon ke main jeeunga, agar hum kabhi kabhi garden mein jaake rahenge. Main bahut thaka hua hoon abhi. Kya tum mere saath raho gi jab tak main so nahi jaata?’

Naukraniyan bohot dheere se bahar chali gayi.

‘Main tumhe secret garden ke baare mein sab kuch batati hoon,’ Mary ne dheere se kaha. ‘Mujhe lagta hai wahan bahut saari gulabon aur khoobsurat phool hain. Pakshi wahan apne ghosle banane pasand karte hain kyunki wahan itna shant aur surakshit hai. Aur shayad humara robin…’

Lekin Colin pehle hi so gaya tha.

Agle din Mary ne Dickon se secret garden mein milkar Colin ke baare mein bataya. Mary ko Dickon ka Yorkshire dialect bahut pasand tha aur wo khud bhi usse seekhne ki koshish kar rahi thi. Usne thodi si Yorkshire dialect bolna shuru kiya.”

‘We mun get poor Colin out here in th’ sunshine-an’ we munnot lose no time about it!’

Dickon laughed. ‘Well done! I didn’t know you could speak Yorkshire! You’re right. We must bring Colin to the garden as soon as we can.’

So that afternoon she went to see Colin.

‘I’m sorry I said I’d send Dickon away,’ he said. ‘I hated you when you said he was like an angel!’

‘Well, he’s a funny kind of angel, but he understands wild animals better than anyone.’ Suddenly, Mary knew that this was the right moment to tell him. She caught hold of his hands. ‘Colin, this is important. Can you keep a secret?’

‘Yes—yes!’ he whispered excitedly. ‘What is it?’

‘We’ve found the door into the secret garden!’

‘Oh Mary! Will I live long enough to see it?’

‘Of course you will! Don’t be stupid!’ said Mary crossly. But it was a very natural thing to say, and they both laughed.

Colin told Mrs Medlock and the doctor that he wanted to go out in his wheelchair. At first the doctor was worried the boy would get too tired, but when he heard that Dickon would push the wheelchair, he agreed.

‘Dickon’s a sensible boy,’ he told Colin. ‘But don’t forget—’

‘I’ve told you, I want to forget that I’m ill,’ said Colin in his prince’s voice. ‘Don’t you understand? It’s because my cousin makes me forget that I feel better when I’m with her.’

‘We mun get poor Colin out here in th’ sunshine-an’ we munnot lose no time about it!’

Dickon laughed. ‘Well done! Mujhe nahi pata tha ke tum Yorkshire bhi bol leti ho! Tum bilkul theek keh rahi ho. Hume Colin ko garden mein jald se jald le jana chahiye.’

Toh us din dopahar ko, Mary Colin ke paas gayi.

‘I’m sorry ke maine kaha ke main Dickon ko bhej doongi,’ usne kaha. ‘Mujhe tumse nafrat thi jab tumne kaha ke woh ek angel hai!’

‘Well, woh ek ajeeb type ka angel hai, magar woh wild animals ko sabse achi tarah samajhta hai.’ Achanak, Mary ko pata chal gaya ke yeh sahi waqt hai usse batane ka. Usne uske haath pakad liye. ‘Colin, yeh bohot zaroori hai. Kya tum raaz rakh sakte ho?’

‘Yes—yes!’ usne excitedly kaha. ‘Kya hai?’

‘Hamne secret garden ka darwaza dhoondh liya hai!’

‘Oh Mary! Kya main isse dekhne ke liye itna zinda rahunga?’

‘Of course tum rahoge! Bevajeh na socho!’ Mary ne ghusse se kaha. Lekin yeh bilkul natural baat thi, aur dono hans diye.

Colin ne Mrs. Medlock aur doctor ko bataya ke woh apne wheelchair mein bahar jana chahta hai. Pehle doctor ko chinta thi ke bachcha thak jayega, lekin jab usne suna ke Dickon wheelchair push karega, toh usne agree kar diya.

‘Dickon ek samajhdar ladka hai,’ usne Colin ko kaha. ‘Lekin yaad rakhna—’

‘Maine tumhe keh diya hai, main bhool jana chahta hoon ke main beemar hoon,’ Colin ne apne prince ke tone mein kaha. ‘Tumhe samajh nahi aata? Yeh isliye hai ke meri cousin mujhe bhoolne deti hai ke main uske saath rah kar behtar mehsoos karta hoon.’

7
Colin and the Garden

‘Of course, it was most important that no one should see Colin, Mary, or Dickon entering the secret garden. So Colin gave orders to the gardeners that they must all keep away from that part of the garden in future.

The next afternoon Colin was carried downstairs by a manservant and put in his wheelchair outside the front door. Dickon arrived, with his crow, two squirrels, and the fox, and started pushing the wheelchair gently away from the house and into the gardens. Mary walked beside the chair.

Spring had really arrived now, and it seemed very exciting to Colin, who had lived indoors for so long. He smelled the warm air from the moor and watched the little white clouds in the blue sky. In a very short time, he heard Mary say, ‘This is where I found the key… and this is the door… and this… this is the secret garden!’

Colin covered his eyes with his hands until he was inside the four high walls, and the door was shut again. Then he looked around at the roses climbing the old red walls, the pink and white flowers on the fruit trees, and the birds and butterflies everywhere. The sun warmed his face, and he suddenly knew he felt different.

‘Mary! Dickon!’ he cried. ‘I’m going to get better! I’m going to live forever and ever and ever!’

As Dickon pushed the wheelchair all around the garden, he told Colin the names of all the plants. The sun shone, the birds sang, and in every corner of the garden, there was something interesting to look at. The three children talked and laughed, and by the end of the afternoon, all three were speaking Yorkshire together.

‘I’ll come back here every afternoon,’ said Colin. ‘I want to watch things growing.’

‘Soon you’ll be strong enough to walk and dig. You’ll be able to help us with the gardening,’ said Dickon kindly.

‘Do you really think I’ll be able to… to walk and… dig?’ asked Colin.

‘Of course, yeh bohot zaroori tha ke koi bhi Colin, Mary, ya Dickon ko secret garden mein enter karte hue na dekhe. Toh Colin ne gardeners ko yeh hukam diya ke woh aayinda garden ke us hisse se door rahein.

Agli dopahar Colin ko ek naukar ne neeche utara aur uske wheelchair ko ghar ke samne rakha. Dickon aaya, apni crow, do squirrels, aur fox ke saath, aur wheelchair ko dheere dheere ghar se door aur gardens ki taraf dhakelna shuru kar diya. Mary wheelchair ke saath chal rahi thi.

Ab spring sach mein aa gaya tha, aur Colin ke liye yeh bohot hi exciting tha, jo itni der se andr reh raha tha. Usne moor ki garam hawa ko mehsoos kiya aur neela asmaan mein chote chote safed badalon ko dekha. Thodi hi der mein, usne Mary ko kehte suna, ‘Yeh woh jagah hai jahan mujhe chaabi mili thi… aur yeh darwaza hai… aur yeh… yeh hai secret garden!’

Colin ne apne haathon se apni aankhon ko dhak liya jab tak woh un oonchi deewaron ke andar nahi aa gaya, aur darwaza phir se band nahi ho gaya. Phir usne idhar udhar dekha; purani laal deewaron par charhti hui gulabon ki bel, fruit trees par pink aur safed phool, aur har jagah par birds aur butterflies. Suraj ne uske chehre ko garam kiya, aur achanak usne mehsoos kiya ke woh bilkul alag mehsoos kar raha hai.

‘Mary! Dickon!’ usne cheekh kar kaha. ‘Main theek ho jaunga! Main hamesha ke liye zinda rahunga!’

Jab Dickon wheelchair ko garden ke aas paas dhakel raha tha, usne Colin ko sab plants ke naam bataye. Suraj chamak raha tha, parindey gaa rahe thay, aur garden ke har kone mein dekhne ke liye kuch na kuch interesting tha. Teenon bachche baat kar rahe thay aur hans rahe thay, aur dopahar ke aakhir tak, teeno Yorkshire mein baat kar rahe thay.

‘Main har dopahar yahan wapas aunga,’ Colin ne kaha. ‘Mujhe cheezon ko ugte hue dekhna hai.’

‘Jald hi tum itne strong ho jaoge ke chal sako aur khud gardening kar sako. Tum hamari madad kar paoge gardening mein,’ Dickon ne mehboobi se kaha.

‘Tumhe waqai lagta hai ke main… chal paunga aur… gardening kar paunga?’ Colin ne pucha.

‘Of course you will. You’ve got legs, like us!’

‘But they’re not very strong,’ answered Colin. ‘They shake, and… and I’m afraid to stand on them.’

‘When you want to use them, you’ll be able to,’ said Dickon. The garden was quiet for a moment.

Suddenly Colin said, ‘Who’s that?’ Mary turned her head and noticed Ben Weatherstaff’s angry face looking at her over the garden wall.

‘What are you doing in that garden, young miss?’ he shouted. He had not seen Colin or Dickon.

‘The robin showed me the way, Ben,’ she replied.

‘You… you…’ He stopped shouting, and his mouth dropped open as he saw Dickon pushing a boy in a wheelchair over the grass towards him.

‘Do you know who I am?’ asked the boy in the chair.

Old Ben stared. ‘You’ve got your mother’s eyes,’ he said in a shaking voice. ‘Yes, I know you. You’re Mr. Craven’s son, the little boy with the crooked back.’

Colin forgot that he had ever had backache. ‘My back’s as straight as yours is!’ he shouted.

Ben stared and stared. He only knew what he had heard from the servants. ‘You haven’t got a crooked back?’ he asked. ‘Or crooked legs?’

That was too much. Colin was furious, and it made him feel strong. ‘Come here, Dickon!’ he shouted, and threw off his blanket. Dickon was by his side in a second. Mary felt sick with fear. Could Colin stand?

Then Colin’s thin feet were on the grass, and he was standing, holding Dickon’s arm. He looked strangely tall, and he held his head very high.

‘Look at me!’ he shouted at Ben. ‘Just look at me!’

‘He’s as straight as any boy in Yorkshire!’ said Dickon.

Tears were running down Ben’s brown old face. ‘They said you were going to die!’ he whispered.

‘Well, you can see that’s not true,’ said Colin. ‘Now, get down from the wall and come here. I want to talk to you. You’ve got to help us keep the garden a secret.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said old Ben, as he dried his eyes.

‘Of course you will. Tumhare paas bhi legs hain, humari tarah!’

‘Magar woh itni strong nahi hain,’ Colin ne jawab diya. ‘Woh hilti hain, aur… aur mujhe dar lagta hai unpar khade hone se.’

‘Jab tum unhein istemal karna chahoge, toh tum kar paoge,’ Dickon ne kaha. Garden kuch dair ke liye khamosh tha.

Achanak Colin ne kaha, ‘Woh kaun hai?’ Mary ne apna sir ghumaya aur dekha Ben Weatherstaff ka ghussa bhara chehra garden ki deewar ke upar se usay dekh raha tha.

‘Tum iss garden mein kya kar rahi ho, choti miss?’ usne cheekh kar kaha. Usne Colin ya Dickon ko nahi dekha tha.

‘Robin ne mujhe raasta dikhaya, Ben,’ usne jawab diya.

‘Tum… tum…’ Usne cheekhna band kar diya, aur uska munh khula ka khula reh gaya jab usne Dickon ko dekha, jo ek ladke ko wheelchair mein dhakel raha tha, ghaas par uski taraf aate hue.

‘Kya tum jaante ho main kaun hoon?’ kursi mein baithe ladke ne pucha.

Old Ben ghurta raha. ‘Tumhari aankhein bilkul tumhari maa ki tarah hain,’ usne ek hilti hui awaaz mein kaha. ‘Haan, main tumhe jaanta hoon. Tum Mr. Craven ke bete ho, woh chota ladka jiska peeth tedha hai.’

Colin ko yaad nahi raha ke uski kabhi back mein dard bhi tha. ‘Meri back bilkul seedhi hai, tumhari tarah!’ usne cheekh kar kaha.

Ben ghurta hi raha. Usne sirf jo suna tha servants se, uska hi pata tha. ‘Tumhari back tedhi nahi hai?’ usne pucha. ‘Ya tumhare paon tedhe nahi hain?’

Yeh bohot zyada tha. Colin ghusse se bhargaya, aur uss se usay apni taaqat mehsoos hui. ‘Idhar aao, Dickon!’ usne cheekh kar kaha, aur apna blanket utaar diya. Dickon ek pal mein uske paas tha. Mary ko darr se tabiyat kharab hone lagi. Kya Colin khada ho sakega?

Phir Colin ke patle paon ghaas par thay, aur woh khada tha, Dickon ke bazu ko pakde hue. Woh ajeeb tareeke se lamba lag raha tha, aur usne apna sir bohot uncha rakha hua tha.

‘Mujhe dekho!’ usne Ben se cheekh kar kaha. ‘Bas dekho mujhe!’

‘Woh bilkul seedha hai, har Yorkshire ke ladke ki tarah!’ Dickon ne kaha.

Ben ke purane bhoore chehre par aansu beh rahe thay. ‘Unhone kaha tha ke tum marne wale ho!’ usne dheemi awaaz mein kaha.

‘Woh tum dekh sakte ho ke yeh sach nahi hai,’ Colin ne kaha. ‘Ab, deewar se neeche aao aur idhar aao. Mujhe tumse baat karni hai. Tumhe hamare saath garden ko secret rakhna padega.’

‘Haan, sir,’ old Ben ne kaha, apni aankhein ponchte hue.

That was the first of many beautiful afternoons in the secret garden. Colin was brought there by Dickon and Mary nearly every day, and he saw all the changes that happened there during the spring and early summer. Ben Weatherstaff, now in on the secret, joined them as often as he could.

One day Colin spoke to all of them. “Listen, everybody. I think there’s something like magic that makes gardens grow and things happen. Perhaps if I believe in it, the magic will make me strong. Let’s all sit down in a circle and ask the magic to work.”

So they all sat on the grass in a circle—Dickon with his crow, his fox, and the two squirrels, Mary, Colin, and Ben. Colin repeated these words several times: “The sun’s shining. That’s the magic. Being strong. That’s the magic. Magic! Help me! Magic! Help me!”

At last, Colin stopped. “Now I’m going to walk round the garden,” he said, and took Dickon’s arm. Slowly, he walked from one wall to another, followed closely by Mary and Ben. And when he had walked all the way around, he said, “You see! I can walk now! The magic worked!”

“It’s wonderful!” cried Mary. “Your father will think he is dreaming when he sees you!”

“I won’t tell him yet. I’m going to keep it a secret from everybody. I’ll come to the garden and walk and run a little more every day until I’m as healthy as any other boy. Then, when my father comes home, I’ll walk up to him and say, ‘Here I am, Father. You see? I’m not going to die!'”

Yeh pehli dafa tha jab Colin ne itna khubsurat waqt secret garden mein guzara. Dickon aur Mary usay lagbhag har din wahan le kar aate, aur usne dekha ke kaise spring aur early summer ke doran garden mein tabdeeliyaan aati hain. Ab jab Ben Weatherstaff bhi is raaz mein shaamil ho chuka tha, to wo bhi unke saath aksar garden mein hota tha.

Ek din Colin ne sab se baat ki. “Sunno, sab log. Mujhe lagta hai ke kuch aisa hai jaise jadoo jo gardens ko ugata hai aur cheezon ko hone deta hai. Shayad agar main is par yaqeen karoon, to yeh jadoo mujhe mazboot bana dega. Aao sab ghaas par circle mein baithte hain aur is jadoo se madad maangte hain.”

To sab ghaas par ek circle bana kar baith gaye—Dickon apne crow, apne fox, aur do squirrels ke saath, Mary, Colin, aur Ben. Colin ne yeh alfaaz baar baar dohraye: “Sooraj chamak raha hai. Yeh hai jadoo. Mazboot rehna. Yeh hai jadoo. Jadoo! Madad karo! Jadoo! Madad karo!”

Akhirkar, Colin ne ruk gaya. “Ab main garden ke ird-gird chalne laga hoon,” usne kaha, aur Dickon ka haath pakad liya. Dheere dheere, usne ek deewar se doosri deewar tak chalna shuru kiya, aur Mary aur Ben ne uska kareebi taqab kiya. Aur jab usne poore garden ka chakkar laga liya, to usne kaha, “Dekha! Ab main chal sakta hoon! Jadoo ne kaam kiya!”

“Yeh to kamaal hai!” Mary ne cheekh kar kaha. “Tumhare walid ko to sapna lagega jab wo tumhein dekhenge!”

“Main abhi unhein nahi bataunga. Main isay sab se raaz rakhunga. Main garden mein aaunga aur har din thoda aur chalunga aur daurunga jab tak ke main kisi aur ladke ki tarah tandurust na ho jaoon. Phir, jab mere walid ghar aayenge, main unke paas ja kar kahunga, ‘Ye lo, walid. Dekho? Main marne nahi wala!'”

“It’s wonderful!” cried Mary. “Your father will think he is dreaming when he sees you!”

“Yeh to kamaal hai!” Mary ne cheekh kar kaha. “Tumhare walid ko to sapna lagega jab wo tumhein dekhenge!”

Now began a difficult time for Colin and Mary. Dickon told his mother about it one evening as he was digging the cottage garden.

“You see, Mother, they don’t want the doctor or the servants to guess that Colin can walk and is getting better. So they have to pretend he’s still ill and just as disagreeable as he used to be!”

“If they’re running about all day in the fresh air, that’ll make them hungry, I should think!”

“Yes, that’s the problem. They’re both getting fatter and healthier, and they really enjoy their food now. But they have to send some of it back to the kitchen, uneaten. If they eat it all, people will realize how healthy they are! Sometimes they’re very hungry!”

“I know what we can do,” said Mrs. Sowerby. “You can take some fresh milk and some of my newly baked bread to the garden in the mornings. If they have that, it’ll do them a lot of good! What a game those children are playing!” And she laughed until tears came to her eyes.

One afternoon when they were all working in the garden, the door opened, and a woman came quietly in.

“It’s Mother!” cried Dickon, and ran towards her. “I told her where the door was, because I knew she would keep the secret.”

Ab Colin aur Mary ke liye mushkil waqt shuru ho gaya. Dickon ne apni maa ko iske baare mein ek shaam ko bataya jab wo cottage garden mein khudayi kar raha tha.

“Aapko pata hai, Amma, wo dono nahi chahte ke doctor ya naukar yeh jaan lein ke Colin chal sakta hai aur uski tabiyat behtar ho rahi hai. Is liye unhe aisa dhong karna padta hai ke wo abhi bhi beemaar hai aur utna hi nakhra wala hai jitna pehle tha!”

“Agar wo saara din tazi hawa mein daudein ge, to mujhe lagta hai ke unhein bhook lagti hogi!”

“Haan, yehi to masla hai. Wo dono motay aur tandurust ho rahe hain, aur ab unhein apna khana waqai mein pasand aane laga hai. Lekin unhein apna kuch khana wapas kitchen bhejna padta hai, bina khaye. Agar wo sab kuch kha lein, to logon ko andaza ho jaye ga ke wo kitne tandurust hain! Kabhi kabhi to unhein bohat zyada bhook lagti hai!”

“Mujhe pata hai hum kya kar sakte hain,” Mrs. Sowerby boli. “Tum unhein subah subah taaza doodh aur meri nayi baani hui roti le ja sakte ho garden mein. Agar wo yeh kha lein, to unhein bohat faida hoga! Kitna mazay ka khel khel rahe hain ye bachay!” Aur wo itna hansi ke unki ankhon mein aansu aa gaye.

Ek din dopahar ko jab wo sab garden mein kaam kar rahe the, to darwaza khula aur ek aurat dheere se andar aayi.

“Yeh to Amma hain!” Dickon cheekh kar bola, aur unki taraf daud gaya. “Maine unhein darwaze ka pata diya tha, kyun ke mujhe pata tha ke wo is raaz ko sambhal kar rakhengi.”

Colin held out his hand to her. “I’ve wanted to see you for a long time,” he said.

“Dear boy!” Susan Sowerby whispered, holding his hand. “You’re so like your mother!”

“Do you think,” asked Colin carefully, “that will make my father like me?”

“I’m sure it will,” she answered warmly. “He must see you—he must come home now.”

“You see how healthy the boy is, Susan?” asked old Ben. “Look how strong and straight his legs are now!”

“Yes,” she laughed. “Playing and working outside, and eating good Yorkshire food, has made him strong. And Miss Mary too,” she added, turning to Mary. “Mrs. Medlock heard that your mother was a pretty woman. You’ll soon be as pretty as she was.”

“Do you believe in magic?” Colin asked her.

“I do,” she answered, “but everybody gives it a different name. It makes the sun shine and the seeds grow—and it has made you healthy.”

She sat down on the grass and stayed for a while, talking and laughing with the children in the quiet, sunny garden. When she stood up to leave, Colin suddenly put out a hand to her.

“I wish—you were my mother!” he whispered.

Mrs. Sowerby put her arms around him and held him close. “Dear boy! You’re as close to your mother as you could be, here in her garden. And your father will come back soon!”

Colin ne apna haath unki taraf badhaya. “Main aapko bohat arsay se milna chahta tha,” usne kaha.

“Pyaray bache!” Susan Sowerby ne dheemi awaaz mein kaha, uska haath pakarte hue. “Tum apni maa par gaye ho!”

“Kya aapko lagta hai,” Colin ne dhyaan se poocha, “ke is se mere walid mujh se pyar karne lagenge?”

“Mujhe poora yaqeen hai,” unhone garamjooshi se jawab diya. “Unhe tumhein dekhna chahiye—ab unhein ghar wapas aana chahiye.”

“Apne dekha Susan, ye larka kitna tandurust ho gaya hai?” purane Ben ne poocha. “Dekho ab iski taange kitni mazboot aur seedhi ho gayi hain!”

“Haan,” unhone hansi kehte hue kaha. “Bahar khelna, kaam karna, aur acha Yorkshire khana khana isse mazboot bana diya hai. Aur Miss Mary ko bhi,” unhone Mary ki taraf dekhtay hue kaha. “Mrs. Medlock ne suna tha ke tumhari maa khoobsurat aurat thi. Tum bhi jald usi tarah khoobsurat ho jaogi.”

“Kya aap jadoo mein yaqeen rakhti hain?” Colin ne unse poocha.

“Main rakhti hoon,” unhone jawab diya, “magar har koi isko alag naam se pukarta hai. Ye sooraj ko chamkane deta hai, aur beejon ko ugata hai—aur isne tumhein tandurust kar diya hai.”

Woh ghas par baith gayi aur kuch dair tak bachon ke saath baat cheet aur hans hans kar maza lete rahe is pur sukoon, dhoop bhare bagh mein. Jab wo uth kar jaane lagi, Colin ne achanak apna haath unki taraf badha diya.

“Mujhe khwahish hai—ke aap meri maa hoti!” usne dheemi awaaz mein kaha.

Mrs. Sowerby ne usse apni baahon mein le liya aur usay qareebi se thaam liya. “Pyaray bache! Tum apni maa ke bohat qareeb ho, yahan iske bagh mein. Aur tumhare walid bhi jald wapas aayenge!”

Final
Mr Craven comes home

While the secret garden was returning to life, a man with high, crooked shoulders was wandering around the most beautiful places in Europe. For ten years, he had lived this lonely life, his heart full of sadness and his head full of dark dreams. Everywhere he went, he carried his unhappiness with him like a black cloud. Other travelers thought he was half mad or a man who could not forget some terrible crime. His name was Archibald Craven.

But one day, as he sat by a mountain stream, he actually looked at a flower, and for the first time in ten years, he realized how beautiful something living could be. The valley seemed very quiet as he sat there, staring at the flower. He felt strangely calm.

Jab chhupa hua bagh phir se zindagi pa raha tha, ek admi jo unche, tedhe kandhon wala tha, Europe ke sabse khoobsurat maqamaat par bhatak raha tha. Das saal se, usne yeh tanha zindagi guzaari thi, uska dil udaasi se bharpoor aur uska zehan andheray khwabon se ghira hua tha. Jahan bhi wo jata, apni udaasi ko ek kali badli ki tarah apne saath le jata. Doosray musafir samajhtay thay ke wo aadha pagal hai ya phir koi aisa shakhs jo kisi khaufnaak jurm ko bhula nahi sakta. Uska naam Archibald Craven tha.

Lekin ek din, jab wo ek pahadi chashme ke paas baitha tha, usne asal mein ek phool ko dekha, aur das saalon mein pehli dafa usne mehsoos kiya ke koi zinda cheez kitni khoobsurat ho sakti hai. Wadi mein us waqt aik ajeeb si khamoshi thi jab wo wahan baitha, phool ko ghoor raha tha. Usne ajeeb si sukoon ka ehsaas kiya.

“What is happening to me?” he whispered. “I feel different—almost as if I’m alive again!”

At that very moment, hundreds of miles away in Yorkshire, Colin was discovering the secret garden for the first time and declaring, “I’m going to live forever and ever and ever!” But Mr. Craven had no idea of this.

That night, in his hotel room, Mr. Craven slept better than usual. As the weeks passed, he even began to think a little about his home and his son. One evening in late summer, while sitting quietly beside a lake, he felt the strange calmness return. He fell asleep and had a dream that seemed incredibly real. He heard a voice calling him—sweet, clear, and happy, the voice of his young wife.

“Archie! Archie! Archie!”

“My dear!” He jumped up. “Where are you?”

“In the garden!” called the beautiful voice.

And then the dream ended. In the morning, when he woke, he remembered the dream vividly.

“She says she’s in the garden!” he thought. “But the door’s locked, and the key’s buried.”

That morning, he received a letter from Susan Sowerby. In it, she asked him to come home, though she didn’t provide a reason. Mr. Craven thought of his dream and decided to return to England immediately. During the long journey back to Yorkshire, he couldn’t stop thinking about Colin.

“I wonder how he is! I wanted to forget him because he reminds me of his mother. He lived, and she died! But perhaps I’ve been wrong. Susan Sowerby says I should go home, so perhaps she thinks I can help him.”

When he arrived home, he found the housekeeper very confused about Colin’s health.

“Yeh mere saath kya ho raha hai?” usne dheemi awaaz mein kaha. “Mujhe kuch alag mehsoos ho raha hai—jaise ke main phir se zinda hoon!”

Usi lamhe, Yorkshire mein sadion door, Colin pehli baar chhupay hue bagh ka pata chala raha tha aur elan kar raha tha, “Main hamesha ke liye jeeon ga!” Lekin Mr. Craven ko is baat ka zara bhi andaaza nahi tha.

Us raat, apne hotel ke kamray mein, Mr. Craven aam tor par behtar soya. Jab haftay guzartay gaye, to usne apne ghar aur apne bete ke baare mein kuch sochna shuru kiya. Late summer ki ek shaam, jab wo aik jheel ke paas khamoshi se baitha tha, usne phir se wo ajeeb sukoon mehsoos kiya. Wo so gaya aur ek sapna dekha jo intehai haqeeqat lagta tha. Usne ek awaaz suni jo usay bula rahi thi—meethi, saaf, aur khush, uski jawan biwi ki awaaz.

“Archie! Archie! Archie!”

“Meri jaan!” Usne uchalte huye kaha. “Tum kahan ho?”

“Bagh mein!” khoobsurat awaaz ne pukara.

Aur phir sapna khatam ho gaya. Subah jab wo jaaga, to usne sapne ko bilkul waisa hi yaad rakha.

“Usne kaha ke wo bagh mein hai!” usne socha. “Lekin darwaza to lock hai, aur chaabi to dafn hai.”

Usi subah, usay Susan Sowerby ka ek khat mila. Isme, usne Mr. Craven se wapas aane ki darkhwast ki thi, halan ke usne koi wajah nahi di thi. Mr. Craven ne apne sapne ke baare mein socha aur foran England wapas jaane ka faisla kiya. Yorkshire ke lambi safar ke doran, wo Colin ke baare mein sochna chor nahi saka.

“Main sochta hoon wo kaisa hoga! Main usay bhoolna chahta tha kyunki wo mujhe uski maa ki yaad dilata hai. Wo zinda raha, aur wo marr gayi! Lekin shayad main ghalat tha. Susan Sowerby kehti hai ke mujhe ghar wapas jana chahiye, to shayad uska ye matlab hai ke main uski madad kar sakta hoon.”

Jab wo ghar pohncha, to usne dekha ke housekeeper Colin ke sehat ke hawalay se bohot pareshaan thi.

“He’s very strange, sir,” said Mrs. Medlock. “He looks better, it’s true, but some days he eats nothing at all, and other days he eats just like a healthy boy. He used to scream even at the idea of fresh air, but now he spends all his time outside in his wheelchair, with Miss Mary and Dickon Sowerby. He’s in the garden at the moment.”

“In the garden!” repeated Mr. Craven. Those were the words of the dream! He hurried out of the house and towards the place which he had not visited for so long. He found the door with the climbing plant over it, and stood outside, listening, for a moment.

“Surely I can hear voices inside the garden?” he thought. “Aren’t there children whispering, laughing, running in there? Or am I going mad?”

And then the moment came, when the children could not stay quiet. There was wild laughing and shouting, and the door was thrown open. A boy ran out, a tall, healthy, handsome boy, straight into the man’s arms. Mr. Craven stared into the boy’s laughing eyes.

“Who – What? Who?” he cried.

Colin had not planned to meet his father like this. But perhaps this was the best way, to come running out with his cousin and his friend.

“Father,” he said, “I’m Colin. You can’t believe it! I can’t believe it myself. It was the garden, and Mary and Dickon and the magic, that made me well. We’ve kept it a secret up to now. Aren’t you happy, Father? I’m going to live for ever and ever and ever!”

“Yeh bohot ajeeb hai, sahab,” Mrs. Medlock ne kaha. “Woh behatar lagta hai, yeh sach hai, magar kuch din woh bilkul nahi khata, aur kuch din bilkul sehatmand ladke ki tarah khata hai. Pehle toh hawa ka soch kar bhi woh cheekh uthta tha, lekin ab woh apna sara waqt wheelchair mein bahar guzarta hai, Miss Mary aur Dickon Sowerby ke saath. Abhi woh bagh mein hai.”

“Bagh mein!” Mr. Craven ne doharaaya. Yeh wahi lafz the jo usne apne khawab mein suna tha! Wo tezi se ghar se bahar nikle aur us jagah ki taraf chale gaye jahan unhone itne arse se nahi dekha tha. Unhone chaadhi hui podon se dhaka hua darwaza paaya, aur ek lamha ke liye bahar se sunne lage.

“Zaroor main andar se aawaaz sun sakta hoon?” unhone socha. “Kya wahan bachon ki fursat aur hansne ki aawaaz nahi aa rahi? Ya kya main paagal ho raha hoon?”

Aur phir wo lamha aaya, jab bachay chup nahi reh sakte the. Hansi aur cheekh-pookh se bhara hua tha, aur darwaza khul gaya. Ek lamba, sehatmand, khubsurat ladka bahar aaya, seedha us aadmi ke gale mein. Mr. Craven ne us ladke ke hansne wale aankhon mein ghussa dekha.

“Kaun – Kya? Kaun?” unhone cheekha.

Colin ne yeh plan nahi kiya tha ke apne walid se is tarah milenge. Magar shayad yeh behtareen tareeqa tha, apne cousin aur dost ke saath daud kar bahar aana.

“Abbu,” usne kaha, “Main Colin hoon. Aap yaqeen nahi kar sakte! Main khud bhi yaqeen nahi kar sakta. Yeh bagh, aur Mary aur Dickon aur woh jadoo tha, jisne mujhe theek kiya. Humne ab tak yeh raaz rakha tha. Kya aap khush hain, Abbu? Main hamesha ke liye jeene wala hoon!”

Mr. Craven put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. For a moment he could not speak. “Take me into the garden, my boy,” he said at last, “and tell me all about it.”

And in the secret garden, where the roses were at their best, and the butterflies were flying from flower to flower in the summer sunshine, they told Colin’s father their story. Sometimes he laughed and sometimes he cried, but most of the time he just looked, unbelieving, into the handsome face of the son that he had almost forgotten.

“Now,” said Colin at the end, “it isn’t a secret any more. I’ll never use the wheelchair again. I’m going to walk back with you, Father – to the house.”

And so, that afternoon, Mrs. Medlock, Martha, and the other servants had the greatest shock of their lives. Through the gardens towards the house came Mr. Craven, looking happier than they had ever seen him. And by his side, with his shoulders straight, his head held high and a smile on his lips, walked young Colin!

Mr. Craven ne apne haath ladke ke kandhon par rakha. Ek lamha ke liye woh kuch keh nahi paaye. “Mujhe bagh mein le chalo, mere beta,” unhone aakhirkar kaha, “aur mujhe sab kuch batao.”

Aur phir, us raaz ke bagh mein, jahan gulabon ka apna behtareen samay tha aur titliyan phoolon se phoolon tak ud rahi thi, unhone Colin ke walid ko apni kahani sunayi. Kabhi woh hans pade aur kabhi roye, magar zyada tar waqt woh bas apne beta ke khoobsurat chehre ko dekhte rahe, jise woh lagbhag bhool chuke the.

“Ab,” Colin ne ant mein kaha, “ab yeh raaz nahi raha. Main dobara kabhi wheelchair ka istemal nahi karunga. Main aap ke saath ghar chalunga, Abbu.”

Aur is tarah, us dopahar ko, Mrs. Medlock, Martha, aur baaki ke naukraniyon ko apni zindagi ka sabse bada jhatka laga. Bagh se ghar ki taraf Mr. Craven aa rahe the, unhe itna khush dekh kar woh sab hairaan reh gaye. Aur unke saath, apne kandhe seedhe, apna sir uncha rakhe aur honthon par muskurahat ke saath, chote Colin chal rahe the!

“Yeh kahani humein yeh sikhati hai ke achi sehat aur khushi ke liye humay apni soch aur zindagi mein badlav lana zaroori hai. Colin ki zindagi tab badli jab usne khud par bharosa kiya aur secret garden ki madad se apne jazbat aur sehat ko behtar banaya. Isse humein yeh samajh aata hai ke kabhi bhi humari mushkilat ko door karne ke liye himmat aur mehnat zaroori hoti hai. Har mushkil waqt mein umeed aur pyaar se kaam le kar hum apni zindagi ko behtar bana sakte hain. Aur jab hum apne doston aur family ke sath mil kar kaam karte hain, to har mushkil asaan ho sakti hai.”

THE END. 💜