When she got fairly into the garden she saw that he probably did intend to stay because he had alighted on a dwarf apple-tree, and under the apple-tree was lying a little reddish animal with a bushy tail, and both of them were watching the stooping body and rust-red head of Dickon, who was kneeling on the grass working hard.
Mary flew across the grass to him.
"Oh, Dickon! Dickon!" she cried out.

"How could you get here so early! How could you! The sun has only just got up!" He got up himself, laughing and glowing, and tousled; his eyes like a bit of the sky.
"Eh!" he said.

"I was up long before him.

How could I have stayed abed! Th' world's all fair begun again this mornin', it has.

An' it's workin' an' hummin' an' scratchin' an' pipin' an' nest-buildin' an' breathin' out scents, till you've got to be out on it 'stead o' lyin' on your back.