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“
Lilies
o
’
th
’
valley
does
,
”
he
answered
,
digging
away
with
the
trowel
,
“
an
’
there
’
s
Canterbury
bells
,
an
’
campanulas
.
”
“
Let
’
s
plant
some
,
”
said
Mary
.
“
There
’
s
lilies
o
’
th
,
valley
here
already
;
I
saw
’
em
.
They
’
ll
have
growed
too
close
an
’
we
’
ll
have
to
separate
’
em
,
but
there
’
s
plenty
.
Th
’
other
ones
takes
two
years
to
bloom
from
seed
,
but
I
can
bring
you
some
bits
o
’
plants
from
our
cottage
garden
.
Why
does
tha
’
want
’
em
?
”
Then
Mary
told
him
about
Basil
and
his
brothers
and
sisters
in
India
and
of
how
she
had
hated
them
and
of
their
calling
her
“
Mistress
Mary
Quite
Contrary
.
”
“
They
used
to
dance
round
and
sing
at
me
.
They
sang
—
‘
Mistress
Mary
,
quite
contrary
,
How
does
your
garden
grow
?
With
silver
bells
,
and
cockle
shells
,
And
marigolds
all
in
a
row
.
’
