She put the key in her pocket and walked up and down her walk. No one but herself ever seemed to come there, so she could walk slowly and look at the wall, or, rather, at the ivy growing on it. The ivy was the baffling thing. Howsoever carefully she looked she could see nothing but thickly growing, glossy, dark green leaves. She was very much disappointed. Something of her contrariness came back to her as she paced the walk and looked over it at the tree-tops inside. It seemed so silly, she said to herself, to be near it and not be able to get in. She took the key in her pocket when she went back to the house, and she made up her mind that she would always carry it with her when she went out, so that if she ever should find the hidden door she would be ready.
Painting-The Secret Garden-Inga Moore.
5 comments:
Oh my dearest; I am still a young girl, looking for what is over the wall and through the thick brush of the secret garden. I wouldn't want to go there with anyone else but you and my dear Rattus, who love adventure and the child-like world of animals, intrigue and joy! Wonderful post! I will be around this evening to come to Nowhere and add a post! Bisous, Anita
This truly is one of my favorite stories!!! Thank you for offering it today!!! The picture is really beautiful! Cathy
I loved The Secret Garden when I was a child and still love the story now:) Have a wonderful weekend:)
Ik heb dit boek!
wat een fantastisch mooi verhaal en de illustraties zijn helemaal geweldig!
de film heb ik ook en kijk 'm zo af en toe!
fijn weekend!
ik heb het boek net gelezen,zo'n week of 4 terug.maar ik heb de nieuwe uitgave,het blijft een mooi boek,
wil ook nog een keer de oude uitgave.
groetjes oma nijn
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