The Red House Mystery and Other Novels. A. A. Milne
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу The Red House Mystery and Other Novels - A. A. Milne страница 106
Название: The Red House Mystery and Other Novels
Автор: A. A. Milne
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Контркультура
isbn: 9781456614010
isbn:
For instance, at Creek Cottage, Mrs. Atherley will say to me, "That's an _Amphilobertus Gemini_," pointing to something which I hadn't noticed behind a rake.
"I am not a bit surprised," I say calmly.
"And a _Gladiophinium Banksii_ next to it."
"I suspected it," I confess in a hoarse whisper.
Towards flowers whose names I know I adopt a different tone.
"Aren't you surprised to see daffodils out so early?" says Mrs. Atherley with pride.
"There are lots out in London," I mention casually. "In the shops."
"So there are grapes," says Miss Atherley.
"I was not talking about grapes," I reply stiffly.
However at Creek Cottage just now I can afford to be natural; for it is not gardening which comes under discussion these days, but landscape-gardening, and any one can be an authority on that. The Atherleys, fired by my tales of Sandringham, Chatsworth, Arundel, and other places where I am constantly spending the week-end, are re-adjusting their two-acre field. In future it will not be called "the garden," but "the grounds."
I was privileged to be shown over the grounds on my last visit to Creek Cottage.
"Here," said Mrs. Atherley, "we are having a plantation. It will keep the wind off; and we shall often sit here in the early days of summer. That's a weeping ash in the middle. There's another one over there. They'll be lovely, you know."
"What's that?" I asked, pointing to a bit of black stick on the left; which, even more than the other trees, gave the impression of having been left there by the gardener while he went for his lunch.
"That's a weeping willow."
"This is rather a tearful corner of the grounds," apologised Miss Atherley. "We'll show you something brighter directly. Look there--that's the oak in which King Charles lay hid. At least, it will be when it's grown a bit."
"Let's go on to the shrubbery," said Mrs. Atherley. "We are having a new grass path from here to the shrubbery. It's going to be called Henry's Walk."
Miss Atherley has a small brother called Henry. Also there were eight Kings of England called Henry. Many a time and oft one of those nine Henrys has paced up and down this grassy walk, his head bent, his hands clasped behind his back; while behind his furrowed brow, who shall say what world-schemes were hatching? Is it the thought of Wolsey which makes him frown--or is he wondering where he left his catapult? Ah! who can tell us? Let us leave a veil of mystery over it ... for the sake of the next visitor.
"The shrubbery," said Mrs. Atherley proudly, waving her hand at a couple of laurel bushes, and a--I've forgotten its name now, but it is one of the few shrubs I really know.
"And if you're a gentleman," said Miss Atherley, "and want to get asked here again, you'll always _call_ it the shrubbery."
"Really, I don't see what else you could call it," I said, wishing to be asked down again.
"The patch."
"True," I said. "I mean, Nonsense."
I was rather late for breakfast next morning; a pity on such a lovely spring day.
"I'm so sorry," I began, "but I was looking at the shrubbery from my window and I quite forgot the time."
"Good," said Miss Atherley.
"I must thank you for putting me in such a perfect room for it," I went on, warming to my subject. "One can actually see the shrubs--er--shrubbing. The plantation too seems a little thicker to me than yesterday."
"I expect it is."
"In fact, the tennis lawn----" I looked round anxiously. I had a sudden fear that it might be the new deer-park. "It still is the tennis lawn?" I asked.
"Yes. Why, what about it?"
"I was only going to say the tennis lawn had quite a lot of shadows on it. Oh, there's no doubt that the plantation is really asserting itself."
Eleven o'clock found me strolling in the grounds with Miss Atherley.
"You know," I said, as we paced Henry's Walk together, "the one thing the plantation wants is for a bird to nest in it. That is the hallmark of a plantation."
"It's Mother's birthday to-morrow. Wouldn't it be a lovely surprise for her?"
"It would indeed. Unfortunately this is a matter in which you require the co-operation of a feathered friend."
"Couldn't you try to persuade a bird to build a nest in the weeping ash? Just for this once."
"You're asking me a very difficult thing," I said doubtfully. "Anything else I would do cheerfully for you; but to dictate to a bird on such a very domestic affair---- No, I'm afraid I must refuse."
"It need only just begin to build one," pleaded Miss Atherley, "because Mother's going up town by your train to-morrow. As soon as she's out of the house the bird can go back to anywhere else it likes better."
"I will put that to any bird I see to-day," I said, "but I am doubtful."
"Oh, well," sighed Miss Atherley, "never mind."
* * * * *
"What do you think?" cried Mrs. Atherley as she came in to breakfast next day. "There's a bird been nesting in the plantation!"
Miss Atherley looked at me in undisguised admiration. I looked quite surprised--I know I did.
"Well, well!" I said.
"You must come out afterwards and see the nest and tell me what bird it is. There are three eggs in it. I am afraid I don't know much about these things."
"I'm glad," I said thankfully. "I mean, I shall be glad to."
We went out eagerly after breakfast. On about the only tree in the plantation with a fork to it a nest balanced precariously. It had in it three pale-blue eggs splotched with light-brown. It appeared to be a black-bird's nest with another egg or two to come.
"It's been very quick about it," said Miss Atherley.
"Of our feathered bipeds," I said, frowning at her, "the blackbird is notoriously the most hasty."
"Isn't СКАЧАТЬ