" inquired Mary anxiously.

"They're things as helps themselves," said Martha. "That's why poor
folk can afford to have 'em. If you don't trouble 'em, most of 'em'll
work away underground for a lifetime an' spread out an' have little
'uns. There's a place in th' park woods here where there's snowdrops by
thousands. They're the prettiest sight in Yorkshire when th' spring
comes. No one knows when they was first planted."

"I wish the spring was here now," said Mary. "I want to see all the
things that grow in England."

She had finished her dinner and gone to her favorite seat on the
hearth-rug.

"I wish--I wish I had a little spade," she said. "Whatever does tha'
want a spade for?" asked Martha, laughing. "Art tha' goin' to take to
diggin'? I must tell mother that, too."

Mary looked at the fire and pondered a little. She must be careful if
she meant to keep her secret kingdom. She wasn't doing any harm, but
if Mr. Craven found out about the open door he would be fearfully angry
and get a new key and lock it up forevermore. She really could not
bear that.

"This is such a big lonely place," she said slowly, as if she were
turning matters over in her mind. "The house is lonely, and the park
is lonely, and the gardens are lonely. So many places seem shut up. I
never did many things in India, but there were more people to look
at--natives and soldiers marching by--and sometimes bands playing, and
my Ayah told me stories. There is no one to talk to here except you
and Ben Weatherstaff. And you have to do your work and Ben
Weatherstaff won't speak to me often. I thought if I had a little
spade I could dig somewhere as he does, and I might make a little
garden if he would give me some seeds."

Martha's face quite lighted up.

"There now!" she exclaimed, "if that wasn't one of th' things mother
said. She says, 'There's such a lot o' room in that big place, why
don't they give her a bit for herself, even if she doesn't plant
nothin' but parsley an' radishes? She'd dig an' rake away an' be right
down happy over it.' Them was the very words she said."

"Were they?" said Mary. "How many things she knows, doesn't she?"

"Eh!" said Martha. "It's like she says: 'A woman as brings up twelve
children learns something besides her A B C. Children's as good as
'rithmetic to set you findin' out things.'"

"How much would a spade cost--a little one?" Mary asked.

"Well," was Martha's reflective answer, "at Th