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He
nodded
his
curly
,
rust
-
colored
head
.
“
That
’
s
why
I
come
.
”
He
stooped
to
pick
up
something
which
had
been
lying
on
the
ground
beside
him
when
he
piped
.
“
I
’
ve
got
th
’
garden
tools
.
There
’
s
a
little
spade
an
’
rake
an
’
a
fork
an
’
hoe
.
Eh
!
they
are
good
’
uns
.
There
’
s
a
trowel
,
too
.
An
’
th
’
woman
in
th
’
shop
threw
in
a
packet
o
’
white
poppy
an
’
one
o
’
blue
larkspur
when
I
bought
th
’
other
seeds
.
”
“
Will
you
show
the
seeds
to
me
?
”
Mary
said
.
She
wished
she
could
talk
as
he
did
.
His
speech
was
so
quick
and
easy
.
It
sounded
as
if
he
liked
her
and
was
not
the
least
afraid
she
would
not
like
him
,
though
he
was
only
a
common
moor
boy
,
in
patched
clothes
and
with
a
funny
face
and
a
rough
,
rusty
-
red
head
.
As
she
came
closer
to
him
she
noticed
that
there
was
a
clean
fresh
scent
of
heather
and
grass
and
leaves
about
him
,
almost
as
if
he
were
made
of
them
.
She
liked
it
very
much
and
when
she
looked
into
his
funny
face
with
the
red
cheeks
and
round
blue
eyes
she
forgot
that
she
had
felt
shy
.
“
Let
us
sit
down
on
this
log
and
look
at
them
,
”
she
said
.
They
sat
down
and
he
took
a
clumsy
little
brown
paper
package
out
of
his
coat
pocket
.
He
untied
the
string
and
inside
there
were
ever
so
many
neater
and
smaller
packages
with
a
picture
of
a
flower
on
each
one
.
“
There
’
s
a
lot
o
’
mignonette
an
’
poppies
,
”
he
said
.
“
Mignonette
’
s
th
’
sweetest
smellin
’
thing
as
grows
,
an
’
it
’
ll
grow
wherever
you
cast
it
,
same
as
poppies
will
.
Them
as
’
ll
come
up
an
’
bloom
if
you
just
whistle
to
’
em
,
them
’
s
th
’
nicest
of
all
.
”
He
stopped
and
turned
his
head
quickly
,
his
poppy
-
cheeked
face
lighting
up
.
