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- Фрэнсис Бёрнетт
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I
just
remembered
it
and
it
made
me
wonder
if
there
were
really
flowers
like
silver
bells
.
”
She
frowned
a
little
and
gave
her
trowel
a
rather
spiteful
dig
into
the
earth
.
“
I
wasn
’
t
as
contrary
as
they
were
.
”
But
Dickon
laughed
.
“
Eh
!
”
he
said
,
and
as
he
crumbled
the
rich
black
soil
she
saw
he
was
sniffing
up
the
scent
of
it
.
“
There
doesn
’
t
seem
to
be
no
need
for
no
one
to
be
contrary
when
there
’
s
flowers
an
’
such
like
,
an
’
such
lots
o
’
friendly
wild
things
runnin
’
about
makin
’
homes
for
themselves
,
or
buildin
’
nests
an
’
singin
’
an
’
whistlin
’
,
does
there
?
”
Mary
,
kneeling
by
him
holding
the
seeds
,
looked
at
him
and
stopped
frowning
.
“
Dickon
,
”
she
said
,
“
you
are
as
nice
as
Martha
said
you
were
.
I
like
you
,
and
you
make
the
fifth
person
.
I
never
thought
I
should
like
five
people
.
”
Dickon
sat
up
on
his
heels
as
Martha
did
when
she
was
polishing
the
grate
.
He
did
look
funny
and
delightful
,
Mary
thought
,
with
his
round
blue
eyes
and
red
cheeks
and
happy
looking
turned
-
up
nose
.
“
Only
five
folk
as
tha
’
likes
?
”
he
said
.
“
Who
is
th
’
other
four
?
”
“
Your
mother
and
Martha
,
”
Mary
checked
them
off
on
her
fingers
,
“
and
the
robin
and
Ben
Weatherstaff
.
