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Frances Hodgson-Burnett
The Secret Garden
Retold by Katarzyna Duda
o r y g i n a l e
Chapter I
© Mediasat Poland Bis 2004
‘Mary Lennox’
Mediasat Poland Bis sp. z o.o.
ul. Mikołajska 26
31-027 Kraków
Projekt okładki i ilustracje: Małgorzata Flis
Skład: Marek Szwarnóg
ISBN 83 - 89652 - 12 - 9
Wszelkie prawa do książki przysługują Mediasat Poland Bis. Jakiekolwiek publiczne korzystanie w całości, jak i w
postaci fragmentów, a w szczególności jej zwielokrotnianie jakąkolowiek techniką, wprowadzanie do pamięci kom-
putera, publiczne odtwarzanie, nadawanie za pomocą wizji oraz fonii przewodowej lub bezprzewodowej, wymaga
wcześniejszej zgody Mediasat Poland Bis.
Mary Lennox was a skinny little 10-year
old girl who was used to living in India
all her life. She had thin yellow hair and
an ugly yellow face with an angry look.
She was always upset with something or
somebody. Her father was always busy and
her mother cared more for going to parties
than for looking after her only child. So,
when Mary was born, she was given to an
Indian servant called Ayah, who was told to
keep the child out of sight. Mary became a
rude, spoilt and selfish child, used to always
being obeyed by her servants. She never
liked anybody, and so she had nobody to
play with her because there was not a single
person who liked her.
One extremely hot morning she woke
up, and, instead of seeing her Ayah she saw
another servant. She asked:
‘Why have you come? I will not let you
stay. Send my Ayah to me!’
The servant looked frightened but replied
that her Ayah couldn’t come. This made
Mary so angry that she started kicking and
hitting the poor woman. But her Ayah did
not come back.
There was definitely something strange
about that morning. Nothing seemed to
be done the way it had always been done:
no Ayah, no morning wash, no help with
getting dressed, no one to play with. In
fact, most of the servants seemed to be
missing. So Mary decided to walk around
the house. She found her mother on the
veranda, talking to a young man. The man
looked very worried. Mary overheard her
mother asking him:
‘Is it really so very bad?’
‘Awful, you should have left two weeks
‘I know but I had to go to this silly party. ‘
‘You never said that it had broken out
among your servants.’, he said.
‘Because I didn’t know.’ replied Mary’s
Nobody had told Mary that cholera had
broken out, and that her Ayah had died,
and that people around her were dying
very suddenly. Everyone was panicking
and they had completely forgotten about
Mary. In a few days, all the servants had
either died or run away. Mary’s parents
had died too.
But Mary knew nothing. She suspected
she was the only person left in the house
because it was very quiet around. The only
thing she could do was wait for someone to
come and look after her. She was tired and
she slept most of the time. When she finally
woke up, she heard two male voices. They
were talking about what had happened.
They thought that everyone had died.
Suddenly they noticed Mary sitting on her
‘That’s the kid!’ said one of them. ‘They
must have forgotten all about her.’
‘Why was I forgotten?’ asked Mary. ‘Why
has nobody come for me?’
‘Poor little kid! Because there is nobody
left to come.’
Although many had died, Mary didn’t
feel sorry for anyone but herself. She could
not stay in India because no one could and
no one wanted to look after her there. So
she was sent to England, to her uncle, Mr.
Archibald Craven.
Mary never cared much about who
she was living with as long as she had
somebody to look after her. So now the
only thing that interested her was what
her new Ayah would be like, and if she
would treat her like her old Ayah did. But
sometimes her heart felt strangely heavy
with loneliness, and she wondered why she
had never belonged to anybody, not even
to her father or mother.
Mary was sent to England with an officer’s
wife, and in London she was met by Mrs
Medlock, Mr Craven’s housekeeper. Mary
didn’t like Mrs Medlock very much and
she wasn’t at all interested in the new place
she was going to. She did not even bother
to ask any questions about her uncle.
‘Do you know anything about your
uncle?’ Mrs Medlock asked Mary when
they had sat down in the train.
‘You’ve never heard your father and
mother talk about him?’
‘Humph.’ Mrs Medlock was surprised,
‘I suppose you should be told something.
You are going to a strange place. Mr Craven
lives in a very old and very big house – it’s
about 600 years old, and there are nearly
100 rooms in it. Most of them are locked
though. The manor is at the edge of the
moor and is surrounded by gardens and a
park. What do you think?’
‘Don’t you care?’
‘It doesn’t matter whether I care or not.’
Mary said.
‘Mr Craven has a crooked back. He was a
very sour man before he got married. But his
wife was as kind and delicate as a flower.
‘Why was?’, asked Mary who started
listening despite herself.
‘The poor woman died.’ said Mrs
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