u and it will stay and do things."

"I once heard an officer in India tell my mother that there were fakirs
who said words over and over thousands of times," said Mary.

"I've heard Jem Fettleworth's wife say th' same thing over thousands o'
times--callin' Jem a drunken brute," said Ben Weatherstaff dryly.
"Summat allus come o' that, sure enough. He gave her a good hidin' an'
went to th' Blue Lion an' got as drunk as a lord."

Colin drew his brows together and thought a few minutes. Then he cheered
up.

"Well," he said, "you see something did come of it. She used the wrong
Magic until she made him beat her. If she'd used the right Magic and had
said something nice perhaps he wouldn't have got as drunk as a lord and
perhaps--perhaps he might have bought her a new bonnet."

Ben Weatherstaff chuckled and there was shrewd admiration in his little
old eyes.

"Tha'rt a clever lad as well as a straight-legged one, Mester Colin," he
said. "Next time I see Bess Fettleworth I'll give her a bit of a hint o'
what Magic will do for her. She'd be rare an' pleased if th' sinetifik
'speriment worked--an' so 'ud Jem."

Dickon had stood listening to the lecture, his round eyes shining with
curious delight. Nut and Shell were on his shoulders and he held a
long-eared white rabbit in his arm and stroked and stroked it softly
while it laid its ears along its back and enjoyed itself.

"Do you think the experiment will work?" Colin asked him, wondering what
he was thinking. He so often wondered what Dickon was thinking when he
saw him looking at him or at one of his "creatures" with his happy wide
smile.

He smiled now and his smile was wider than usual.

"Aye," he answered, "that I do. It'll work same as th' seeds do when th'
sun shines on 'em. It'll work for sure. Shall us begin it now?"

Colin was delighted and so was Mary. Fired by recollections of fakirs
and devotees in illustrations Colin suggested that they should all sit
cross-legged under the tree which made a canopy.

"It will be like sitting in a sort of temple," said Colin. "I'm rather
tired and I want to sit down."

"Eh!" said Dickon, "tha' musn't begin by sayin' tha'rt tired. Tha' might
spoil th' Magic."

Colin turned and looked at him--into his innocent round eyes.

"That's true," he said slowly. "I must only think of the Magic."

It all seemed most majestic and mysterious when they sat down in their
circle. Ben Weatherstaff felt as if he had somehow been led