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You're built to win it. Welcome to snoozecast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us on Snewscast.com and if you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. If you'd like to get an email once a week with upcoming sleep stories and other news, subscribe to the Snewsletter at Snewscast.com. This episode is brought to you by Rostedex and Potatoes. Tonight, we'll read the next part too, The Secret Garden, a novel by Francis Hodgson Bernat published in 1911. In the last episode, Dickin teaches Collins strengthening exercises.

We get to see the happenings at the secret garden through the eyes of the robins on their nest. And the staff at the manner grow increasingly perplexed by Colin and Mary's healthy transformation. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes.

Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now, take a few deep breaths. Even on wet days, it could not be said that Mary and Colin were dull. I wish my father would come home. Colin said. I wish it wasn't raining today. It was then Mistress Mary had her inspiration. Colin, she began mysteriously. Do you know how many rooms there are in this house? About a thousand, I suppose. He answered. There's about a hundred. No one ever goes into, said Mary. And one rainy day I went and looked into ever so many of them. No one ever knew, though Mrs. Medlock nearly found me out. I lost my way when I was coming back, and I stopped at the end of your corridor. That was the second time I heard you crying. Collins started up on his sofa. A hundred rooms no one goes into, he said. His sounds almost like a secret garden. Suppose we go and look at them. Wheel me in my chair and nobody would know we wouldn't." "'That's what I was thinking,' said Mary. No one would dare to follow us. There are galleries where you could run. We could do our exercises.' There is a little Indian room where there is a cabinet full of ivory elephants. They're all sorts of rooms. "'Ring the bell,' said Colin. When the nurse came in, he gave his orders. "'I want my chair,' he said. Miss Mary and I are going to look at the part of the house which is not used. John can push me as far as the picture gallery because there are some stairs. Then he must go away and leave us alone until I send for him again. Rainy days lost their terrors that morning. When the footmen had wheeled the chair into the picture gallery and left the two together in obedience to orders, Colin and Mary looked at each other delighted. As soon as Mary had made sure that John was really on his way back to his own quarters below stairs. Colin got out of his chair. "'I'm going to run from one end of the gallery to the other,' he said. "'And then I'm going to jump, and then we will do Bob Howard's exercises.' And then they did all these things and many others.

They looked at the portraits and found the plain little girl dressed in green brocade

and holding the parrot on her finger. All these, said Colin, must be my relations.

They lived a long time ago.

That parrot, one I believe, is one of my great, great, great, great aunts. She looks rather like you, Mary. Not as you look now, but as you looked when you came here. Now you are a great deal fatter and better looking. So are you," said Mary, and they both laughed. They went to the Indian room and amused themselves with the ivory elephants. They found the rose-colored brocade bou d'oir, and the hole in the cushion the mouse had left, but the mice had grown up and run away, and the hole was empty. They saw more rooms and made more discoveries than Mary had made on her first pilgrimage. They found new corridors and corners and flights of steps and new old pictures they liked, and weird old things they did not know the use of. It was a curiously entertaining morning, and the feeling of wandering about in the same house with other people, but at the same time feeling as if one were miles away from them was a fascinating thing. I'm glad we came," Colin said. I never knew I lived in such a big, queer old place. I like it. We will ramble about every rainy day. We shall always be finding new queer corners and things. That morning they had found among other things such good appetites that when they returned to Collins' room it was not possible to send the lunch in a way untouched. When the nurse carried the tray downstairs, she slapped it down on the kitchen dresser so that Mrs. Lumis, the cook, could see the highly polished dishes and plates. Look at that, she said. This is a house of mystery, and those two children are the greatest mysteries in it. If they keep up every day with that, said the strong young footmen, John, there would be small wonder that he waste twice as much today as he did a month ago. I should have to give up my place in time for fear of doing my muscles in injury. That afternoon Mary noticed that something new had happened in Collins' room. She had noticed it the day before, but had said nothing because she thought the change might have been made by chance. She said nothing today, but she sat and looked fixably at the picture over the mantle. She could look at it because the curtain had been drawn aside. That was the change she noticed. I know what you want me to tell you," said Colin, after she had stared a few minutes. I always know when you want me to tell you something. You're wondering why the curtain is drawn back. I'm going to keep it like that. Why? Ask Mary. Because it doesn't make me angry anymore to see her laughing. I wakened when it was bright moonlight two nights ago and felt as if the magic was filling the room and making everything so splendid that I couldn't lie still. I got up and looked out of the window. The room was quite light, and there was a patch of moonlight on the curtain, and somehow that made me go and pull the cord. She looked right down at me as if she were laughing because she was glad I was standing there. It made me like to look at her. I want to see her laughing like that all the time.

I think she must have been a sort of magic person perhaps. You are so like her now," said Mary, that sometimes I think perhaps you are her ghost made into a boy. That idea seemed to impress Colin.

He thought it over and then answered her slowly. If I were a ghost, if I were her ghost, my father would be fond of me. He said. Do you want want him to be fond of you?' inquired Mary. "'I used to hate it because he was not fond of me. If he grew fond of me, I think I should tell him about the magic. It might make him more cheerful. Chapter 26. Its Mother Their belief in the magic was an abiding thing. After the mornings in cantations, Colin sometimes gave them magic lectures. I like to do it, he explained, because when I grow up and make great scientific discoveries, I shall be obliged to lecture about them, and so this is practice. I can only give short lectures now because I am very young, and besides, Ben whether staff would feel as if he were in church and he would go to sleep. The best thing about lecturing said Ben, is that a chap can get up and say, ought he pleases and no other chap can answer him back. I wouldn't be again lecturing a bit myself sometimes. But when Colin held forth under his tree, old Ben fixed devouring eyes on him and kept them there. He looked over him with critical affection. It was not so much the lecture which interested him as the legs which looked straighter and stronger each day. The boyish head which held itself up so well, the once sharp chin and hollow cheeks which had filled and rounded out, and the eyes which had begun to hold the light he remembered in another pair. Sometimes, when Colin felt Ben's earnest gaze meant that he was much impressed, he wondered what he was reflecting on, and once when he had seemed quite entranced, he questioned him. What are you thinking about Ben weather staff? He asked. I was thinking, answered Ben, as I'd worn and thus gone up through or four pound this week. I was looking at the calves and the shoulders. I'd like to get the on a pair of scales. It's the magic and, and Mrs. Sourbees' buns and milk and things," said Colin. You see the scientific experiment has succeeded. That morning, Dickin was too late to hear the lecture. When he came, he was ready with running, and his funny face looked more twinkling than usual. As they had a good deal of weeding to do after the rains, they fell to work. They always had plenty to do after a warm, deep, sinking rain. The moisture, which was good for the flowers, was also good for the weeds, which thrust up tiny blades of grass and points of leaves, which must be pulled up before their roots took too firm hold. Colin was as good at weeding as anyone in these days, and he could lecture while he was doing it. The magic works best when you work yourself, he said this morning. You can feel it in your bones and muscles. I am going to read books about bones and muscles, but I am going to write a book about magic. I am making it up now. I keep finding out things." It was not very long after he had said this that he laid down his trowel and stood up on his feet. He had been silent for several minutes, and they had seen that he was thinking out lectures, as he often did. When he dropped his trowel and stood upright, it seemed to Mary and Dickon as if a sudden strong thought had made him do it. He stretched himself out to his tallest height, and he threw out his arms exultantly. Color glowed in his face, and his strange eyes widened with joyfulness. All at once he had realized something to the full. Mary, Dickin, hey,, just look at me. They stopped their weeding and looked at him. Do you remember that first morning you brought me in here? He demanded. Dickin was looking at him very hard. Being an animal charmer, he could see more things than most people could, and many of them were things he never talked about. He saw some of them now in this boy. I, that we do," answered. Mary looked hard too, but she said nothing. Just this minute," said Colin, all at once I remembered it myself. When I looked at my hand digging with the trowel, and I had to stand up on my feet to see if it was real, and it is real, I'm well, I'm well."

"'I that the art,' said Dickin.' "'I'm well, I'm well,' said Colin again, and his face went quite red all over. He had known it before, in a way. He had hoped it, and felt it, and thought about it.

But just at that minute something had rushed all through him. A sort of rapturous belief and realization, and it had been so strong that he could not help calling out. I shall live forever and ever and ever." He cried, grandly.

I shall live forever and ever and ever." He cried, grandly. I shall find out thousands and thousands of things. I shall find out about people and creatures and everything that grows, like Dickin, and I shall never stop making magic. I'm well. I'm well. I feel... I feel as if I want to shout out something. Something thankful. Joyful. Ben Weatherstaff, who had been working near a rose bush, glanced around at him. Th That might sing the doxology. He suggested in his driest grunt. He had no opinion of the doxology, and he did not make the suggestion with any particular reverence. But Colin was of an exploring mind, and he knew nothing about the doxology. What is that, he inquired? Dick and can sing it for the yaw warrant? Replied Benweather staff? Dick and answered with his all perceiving animal charmermer smile. They sing it in church, he said. Mother says she believes the sky-lark sings it when they get up in the morning. If she says that, it must be a nice song. Call and answered, I've never been in a church myself. I was always too ill. Sing it, Dickin. I want to hear it." Dickin was quite simple and unaffected about it. He understood what Colin felt better than Colin did himself. understood by a a sort of instinct so natural that he did not know it was understanding. He pulled off his cap and looked round still smiling. They must take off their cap, he said to Colin.

And so Monday, Ben and the moon stand up said to Colin. And so Munda, Ben, and the morn stand up, Thou nose. Colin took off his cap, and the sun shone on and warmed his thick hair as he watched thicken intently. Ben weatherstaff scrambled up from his knees and bared his head too, with a sort of puzzled half resentful look on his old face as if he didn't know exactly why he was doing this remarkable thing. Dickens stood out among the trees and rose bushes and began to sing in quite a simple matter of fact way and in a nice strong boy voice. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise him all creatures here below. Praise him above ye heavenly host. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen. When he had finished, Ben weather staff was standing quite still with his jaws set obstinately, but with a disturbed look in his eyes fixed on Colin. Colin's face was thoughtful and appreciative. It is a very nice song, he said. I like it. Perhaps it means just what I mean when I want to shout out that I am thankful to the magic. He stopped and thought in a puzzled way. Perhaps they are both the same thing. How can we know the exact names of everything? Sing it again, Dickens. Let us try, Mary. I want to sing it too. It's my song. How does it begin? Praise God from whom all blessings flow. And they sang it again. And Mary and Colin lifted their voices as musically as they could, and Dickens swelled quite loud and beautiful. And at the second line, Ben weather-staff raspingly cleared his throat, and at the third line, he joined in with such figure that it seemed almost savage, and when the all men came to an end, Mary observed that the very same thing had happened to him, which had happened when he found out that Colin was not a cripple. His chin was twitching, and he was staring and winking, and his leathery old cheeks were wet. I never see no sense in the doxology of four," he said, horsely. But I may change my mind in time. I should say that gone up five pound this week, Mr. Colin. Five on him. Colin was looking across the garden at something attracting his attention and his expression had become a startled one. Who's coming in here? He said quickly, who is it? The door in the ivy wall had been pushed gently open and a woman had entered. She had come in with the last line of their song and she had stood still listening and looking at them. With the ivy behind her, the sunlight drifting through the trees and dappling her long blue coke, and her nice fresh face smiling across the greenery, she was rather like a softly colored illustration in one of Collins books. She had wonderful affectionate eyes, which seemed to take everything in.

All of them even ben weather staff and the creatures and every flower that was in bloom.

Unexpectedly as she had appeared, not one of them felt that she was an intruder at all. Dickens eyes lighted like lamps. It's mother! That's who it is. He cried and went across the grass at a run. Colin began to move toward her too, and Mary went with him. They both felt their pulses beat faster. It's mother, Dickens said again when they met halfway. I know that they wanted to see her, and I told her where the door was head. Colin held out his hand with a sort of flushed royal shyness, but his eyes quite devoured her face. "'Even when I was ill, I wanted to see you,' he said. "'You and Dickon and the Seeker Garden. I'd never wanted to see anyone or anything before.'" the sight of his uplifted face brought about a sudden change in her own. She flushed in the corners of her mouth shook and a miss seemed to sweep over her eyes. Ah, dear lad, she broke out tremulously. Oh, dear lad, as if she had not known she was going to say it. She did not say Mr. Colin, but just dear lad, quite suddenly. She might have said it to Dickin in the same way if she had seen something in his face which touched her. Colin liked it. Are you surprised because I am so well?" he asked. She put her hand on his shoulder and smiled the mist out of her eyes. "'I that I am,' she said, but the art so like thy mother, thy made my heart jump. Do you think?" said Colin a little awkwardly. That will make my father like me. I, for sure, dear lad, she answered, and she gave his shoulder a soft quick pat. He mon-come home. He mon-come home. Susan Sourby said Ben weather staff getting close to her. Look at the lads' legs, Will Tha. They was like drumsticks and stockings two months ago. And I heard folk tell as they were bandy and knock-need, both at the same time. Look at him now. Susan Sauer be left a comfortable laugh. They're going to be fine strong lads' legs in a bit," she said. "'Let him go on playin' and workin' in the garden, and eatin' hearty and drinkin' plenty

of good sweet milk, and there'll not be a finer pair in Yorkshire. Thank God for it." She put both hands on Mistress Mary's shoulders, and looked her little face over in a motherly fashion. And thee, too, she said.

Thou art grown near as hearty as our Elizabeth Ellen.

How warrant thou art like thy mother, too. Our Martha told me, as Mrs. Medlock heard, she was a pretty woman. Thou be like a blushed rose when thou grows up my little last, blessed thee. She did not mention that when Martha came home on her day out, she described the plain salo child. She had said that she had no confidence whatever and what Mrs. Medlock had heard. It doesn't stand to reason that a pretty woman could be that mother of such a foul little lass she had added, obstinately. Mary had not had time to pay much attention to her changing face. She had only known that she looked different and seemed to have a great deal more hair and that it was growing very fast. But remembering her pleasure and looking at the Mesa hebe in the past, she was glad to hear that she might someday look like her. Susan Sourby went round their garden with them and was told the whole story of it and shown every bush and tree which had come alive. Colin walked on one side of her and Mary on the other. Each of them kept looking up at her comfortable, rosy face, secretly curious about the delightful feeling she gave them, a sort of warm, supported feeling. It seemed as if she understood them as Dickens understood his creatures. She stooped over the flowers and talked about them as if they were children. Soot followed her and once or twice caught at her and flew up upon her shoulder as if it were Dickens. When they told her about the Robin and the first flight of the young ones, she laughed a motherly little mellow laugh in her throat. I suppose learning him to fly is like learning children to walk, but I'm feared I should be all in a word if mine had wings instead of legs," she said. It was because she seemed such a wonderful woman in her nice, morlin cottage that at last she was told about the magic. Do you believe in magic? Ask Colin after he had explained about Indian fakirs. I do hope you do. Oh, that I do, lad, she answered. I never know it by that name, but what does the name matter? I warrant thy callet in a different name in France and a different one in Germany. The same thing as set the seed swelling in and the sun shine in, made thee a well lad, and it's a good thing. It isn't like us poor fools as think it matters if us is called out of their names. The big good thing doesn't stop to worry. Bless thee. It goes on making worlds by the million, worlds like us. Never they stop believing in the big good thing and know in the world's full of it, and call it what that likes. The word sing into it when I come into the garden. I felt so joyful," said Colin, opening his beautiful strange eyes at her. Suddenly, I felt how different I was, how strong my arms and legs were, you know, and how I could dig and stand, and I jumped up and wanted to shout out something to anyone that would listen. The magic listened when the song The Doxology. It would have listened to anything that sung. It was the joy that mattered. Ah, lad, lad. What's names to the joy-maker? And she gave his shoulders a quick soft pat again. She had packed a basket which held a regular feast this morning and when the hungry hour came and Dickon brought it out from his hiding place. She sat down with them under their tree, and watched them devour their food. Laughing, and quite gloating over their appetites. She was full of fun, and made them laugh at all sorts of odd things.

She told them stories and brought Yorkshire and taught them new words. you