It was hard to go away and leave it all, particularly as Nut had actually crept on to her dress and Shell had scrambled down the trunk of the apple-tree they sat under and stayed there looking at her with inquiring eyes.

But she went back to the house and when she sat down close to Colin's bed he began to sniff as Dickon did though not in such an experienced way.
"You smell like flowers and--and fresh things," he cried out quite joyously.

"What is it you smell of?
It's cool and warm and sweet all at the same time." "It's th' wind from th' moor," said Mary.

"It comes o' sittin' on th' grass under a tree wi' Dickon an' wi' Captain an' Soot an' Nut an' Shell.

It's th' springtime an' out o' doors an' sunshine as smells so graidely." She said it as broadly as she could, and you do not know how broadly Yorkshire sounds until you have heard some one speak it.