He'll be shyer an' readier to take things ill.

He's got no time for visitin' an' gossipin'.

Us must keep still a bit an' try to look as if us was grass an' trees an' bushes.

Then when he's got used to seein' us I'll chirp a bit an' he'll know us'll not be in his way." Mistress Mary was not at all sure that she knew, as Dickon seemed to, how to try to look like grass and trees and bushes.

But he had said the queer thing as if it were the simplest and most natural thing in the world, and she felt it must be quite easy to him, and indeed she watched him for a few minutes carefully, wondering if it was possible for him to quietly turn green and put out branches and leaves.