it Magic. He says it's because he lives on the moor so much
and he knows their ways. He says he feels sometimes as if he was a bird
or a rabbit himself, he likes them so. I think he asked the robin
questions. It seemed as if they talked to each other in soft chirps."

Colin lay back on his cushion and his eyes grew larger and larger and
the spots on his cheeks burned.

"Tell me some more about him," he said.

"He knows all about eggs and nests," Mary went on. "And he knows where
foxes and badgers and otters live. He keeps them secret so that other
boys won't find their holes and frighten them. He knows about everything
that grows or lives on the moor."

"Does he like the moor?" said Colin. "How can he when it's such a great,
bare, dreary place?"

"It's the most beautiful place," protested Mary. "Thousands of lovely
things grow on it and there are thousands of little creatures all busy
building nests and making holes and burrows and chippering or singing
or squeaking to each other. They are so busy and having such fun under
the earth or in the trees or heather. It's their world."

"How do you know all that?" said Colin, turning on his elbow to look at
her.

"I have never been there once, really," said Mary suddenly remembering.
"I only drove over it in the dark. I thought it was hideous. Martha told
me about it first and then Dickon. When Dickon talks about it you feel
as if you saw things and heard them and as if you were standing in the
heather with the sun shining and the gorse smelling like honey--and all
full of bees and butterflies."

"You never see anything if you are ill," said Colin restlessly. He
looked like a person listening to a new sound in the distance and
wondering what it was.

"You can't if you stay in a room," said Mary.

"I couldn't go on the moor," he said in a resentful tone.

Mary was silent for a minute and then she said something bold.

"You might--sometime."

He moved as if he were startled.

"Go on the moor! How could I? I am going to die."

"How do you know?" said Mary unsympathetically. She didn't like the way
he had of talking about dying. She did not feel very sympathetic. She
felt rather as if he almost boasted about it.

"Oh, I've heard it ever since I remember," he answered crossly. "They
are always whispering about it and thinking I don't notice. They wish I
would, too."

Mistress Mary felt quite contrary. She pinched her lips together.

"If they wished I would,"