“What are you thinking about, Ben Weatherstaff?” he asked.

“I was thinkin’,” answered Ben, “as I’d warrant tha’s gone up three or four pound this week.  I was lookin’ at tha’ calves an’ tha’ shoulders.  I’d like to get thee on a pair o’ scales.”

“It’s the Magic and—­and Mrs. Sowerby’s buns and milk and things,” said Colin.  “You see the scientific experiment has succeeded.”

That morning Dickon was too late to hear the lecture.  When he came he was ruddy with running and his funny face looked more twinkling than usual.  As they had a good deal of weeding to do after the rains they fell to work.  They always had plenty to do after a warm deep sinking rain.  The moisture which was good for the flowers was also good for the weeds which thrust up tiny blades of grass and points of leaves which must be pulled up before their roots took too firm hold.  Colin was as good at weeding as any one in these days and he could lecture while he was doing it.

“The Magic works best when you work yourself,” he said this morning.  “You can feel it in your bones and muscles.  I am going to read books about bones and muscles, but I am going to write a book about Magic.  I am making it up now.  I keep finding out things.”

It was not very long after he had said this that he laid down his trowel and stood up on his feet.  He had been silent for several minutes and they had seen that he was thinking out lectures, as he often did.  When he dropped his trowel and stood upright it seemed to Mary and Dickon as if a sudden strong thought had made him do it.  He stretched himself out to his tallest height and he threw out his arms exultantly.  Color glowed in his face and his strange eyes widened with joyfulness.  All at once he had realized something to the full.

“Mary!  Dickon!” he cried.  “Just look at me!”

They stopped their weeding and looked at him.

“Do you remember that first morning you brought me in here?” he demanded.

Dickon was looking at him very hard.  Being an animal charmer he could see more things than most people could and many of them were things he never talked about.  He saw some of them now in this boy.

“Aye, that we do,” he answered.

Mary looked hard too, but she said nothing.

“Just this minute,” said Colin, “all at once I remembered it myself—­when I looked at my hand digging with the trowel—­and I had to stand up on my feet to see if it was real.  And it is real!  I’m well—­I’m well!”

“Aye, that tha’ art!” said Dickon.

“I’m well!  I’m well!” said Colin again, and his face went quite red all over.

He had known it before in a way, he had hoped it and felt it and thought about it, but just at that minute something had rushed all through him—­a sort of rapturous belief and realization and it had been so strong that he could not help calling out.

“I shall live forever and ever and ever!” he cried grandly.  “I shall find out thousands and thousands of things.  I shall find out about people and creatures and everything that grows—­like Dickon—­and I shall never stop making Magic.  I’m well!  I’m well!  I feel—­I feel as if I want to shout out something—­something thankful, joyful!”