メアリーお嬢さまはつむじまがり。そう呼ばれていたメアリーが、庭の草木や花の面倒をみているうちに、少しずつ変わっていく。メアリーはまた、メアリーに負けないくらい傲慢（ごうまん）で病弱ないとこ、コリンの病気も治してしまう。英国ヨークシャー州の荒野に建つ、陰気で古いお屋敷に閉じこもっていたふたりは、病気がちでいつも不機嫌なところまでそっくり。けれども、閉ざされていた秘密の庭に足を踏み入れ、さまざまなことを思い描いて遊びまわるようになると、みるみる間に子どもらしい元気を取り戻していった。 「そこは、だれにも想像できないほど気持ちのいい、そしてふしぎな感じのする場所でした。庭を囲む高い塀は、葉のおちたバラのつるでおおわれていました。つるはびっしりとからみあっています…『静かなのはあたりまえだわ』と、メアリーは小声で言いました。『十年間、この中で話をした人はいなかったんだもの』」
春が来て、新たな命が土の中から姿を見せると、気難しいメアリーとコリンにも笑顔が見られるようになる。
生きることや愛することに少しでも不安を感じたことがある者にとって、勇気を奮い起こしてくれそうな『The Secret Gardedn』（邦題『秘密の花園』）。読むものをわくわくさせ、元気づけてくれる1冊だ。フランシス・ホッジソン・バーネットの描く人物はみな個性的で、85年たった今でも子どもたちの心をとらえて離さない。（9～12才児向け）
--このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 What secrets lie behind the doors at Misselthwaite Manor? Recently arrived at her uncle's estate, orphaned Mary Lennox is spoiled, sickly, and certain she won't enjoy living there. Then she discovers the arched doorway into an overgrown garden, shut up since the death of her aunt ten years earlier. Mary soon begins transforming it into a thing of beauty--unaware that she is changing too.But Misselthwaite hides another secret, as Mary discovers one night. High in a dark room, away from the rest of the house, lies her young cousin, Colin, who believes he is an incurable invalid, destined to die young. His tantrums are so frightful, no one can reason with him. If only, Mary hopes, she can get Colin to love the secret garden as much as she does, its magic will work wonders on him.
--このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 Amazon.com
Mistress Mary is quite contrary until she helps her garden grow. Along the way, she manages to cure her sickly cousin Colin, who is every bit as imperious as she. These two are sullen little peas in a pod, closed up in a gloomy old manor on the Yorkshire moors of England, until a locked-up garden captures their imaginations and puts the blush of a wild rose in their cheeks; "It was the sweetest, most mysterious-looking place any one could imagine. The high walls which shut it in were covered with the leafless stems of roses which were so thick, that they matted together.... 'No wonder it is still,' Mary whispered. 'I am the first person who has spoken here for ten years.'" As new life sprouts from the earth, Mary and Colin's sour natures begin to sweeten. For anyone who has ever felt afraid to live and love, The Secret Garden's portrayal of reawakening spirits will thrill and rejuvenate. Frances Hodgson Burnett creates characters so strong and distinct, young readers continue to identify with them even 85 years after they were conceived. (Ages 9 to 12)
--このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 ??????????????????????????????(?????????????????????????????????)??????????????? ??????
両親を亡くしたメアリは、英国ヨークシャーの大きな屋敷に住む叔父に引き取られる。ある夜、寂しさで眠れないメアリに、廊下の先の鍵のかかった部屋から泣き声がするのが聞こえる。それは心と身体を病んだいとこの少年コリンだった。
塀に囲まれ、長い間入り口の扉には鍵がかけられて、誰も足を踏み入れたことのなかった秘密の花園。動物と話ができる少年ディコンの助けを借りて、メアリは花園の手入れをはじめる。自然にふれ、季節の移り変わりを肌で感じるようになったメアリの心は、やがて少しずつ開いてゆく。そして、心と身体を病み、生きる喜びを知らなかったコリンの心も。春の訪れと共に、生命の力が満ちてくる本書は、半世紀を越えて長く愛され続けているクラシックの名作。ターシャ・テューダーの絵も愛らしい。(み)
Copyright© ペイパーウェイト・ブックス All rights reserved. --このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 著者について
Frances Hodgson Burnett (1849-1924) wrote over 50 novels and plays, and was best known for Little Lord Fauntleroy, A Little Princess, and The Secret Garden, all of which have been the basis for major motion pictures.
--このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 メディア掲載レビューほか
"Mary is a tough feisty character, who manages to turn a whole household, and the lives of those in it, completely upside down... The book is brim full of magic and joy."
--Sunday Telegraph --このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 レビュー
“It is only the exceptional author who can write a book about children with sufficient skill, charm, simplicity, and significance to make it acceptable to both young and old. Mrs. Burnett is one of the few thus gifted.”—The New York Times --このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 抜粋
CHAPTER I
There Is No One Left
When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too. She had a little thin face and a little thin body, thin light hair and a sour expression. Her hair was yellow, and her face was yellow because she had been born in India and had always been ill in one way or another. Her father had held a position under the English Government and had always been busy and ill himself, and her mother had been a great beauty who cared only to go to parties and amuse herself with gay people. She had not wanted a little girl at all, and when Mary was born she handed her over to the care of an Ayah, who was made to understand that if she wished to please the Mem Sahib she must keep the child out of sight as much as possible. So when she was a sickly, fretful, ugly little baby she was kept out of the way, and when she became a sickly, fretful, toddling thing she was kept out of the way also. She never remembered seeing familiarly anything but the dark faces of her Ayah and the other native servants, and as they always obeyed her and gave her her own way in everything, because the Mem Sahib would be angry if she was disturbed by her crying, by the time she was six years old she was as tyrannical and selfish a little pig as ever lived. The young English governess who came to teach her to read and write disliked her so much that she gave up her place in three months, and when other governesses came to try to fill it they always went away in a shorter time than the first one. So if Mary had not chosen to really want to know how to read books she would never have learned her letters at all.
One frightfully hot morning, when she was about nine years old, she awakened feeling very cross, and she became crosser still when she saw that the servant who stood by her bedside was not her Ayah.
“Why did you come?” she said to the strange woman. “I will not let you stay. Send my Ayah to me.”
The woman looked frightened, but she only stammered that the Ayah could not come and when Mary threw herself into a passion and beat and kicked her, she looked only more frightened and repeated that it was not possible for the Ayah to come to Missie Sahib.
There was something mysterious in the air that morning. Nothing was done in its regular order and several of the native servants seemed missing, while those whom Mary saw slunk or hurried about with ashy and scared faces. But no one would tell her anything and her Ayah did not come. She was actually left alone as the morning went on, and at last she wandered out into the garden and began to play by herself under a tree near the veranda. She pretended that she was making a flower-bed, and she stuck big scarlet hibiscus blossoms into little heaps of earth, all the time growing more and more angry and muttering to herself the things she would say and the names she would call Saidie when she returned.
“Pig! Pig! Daughter of Pigs!” she said, because to call a native a pig is the worst insult of all.
She was grinding her teeth and saying this over and over again when she heard her mother come out on the veranda with some one. She was with a fair young man and they stood talking together in low strange voices. Mary knew the fair young man who looked like a boy. She had heard that he was a very young officer who had just come from England. The child stared at him, but she stared most at her mother. She always did this when she had a chance to see her, because the Mem Sahib—Mary used to call her that oftener than anything else—was such a tall, slim, pretty person and wore such lovely clothes. Her hair was like curly silk and she had a delicate little nose which seemed to be disdaining things, and she had large laughing eyes. All her clothes were thin and floating, and Mary said they were “full of lace.” They looked fuller of lace than ever this morning, but her eyes were not laughing at all. They were large and scared and lifted imploringly to the fair boy officer’s face.
“Is it so very bad? Oh, is it?” Mary heard her say.
“Awfully,” the young man answered in a trembling voice. “Awfully, Mrs. Lennox. You ought to have gone to the hills two weeks ago.”
The Mem Sahib wrung her hands.
“Oh, I know I ought!” she cried. “I only stayed to go to that silly dinner party. What a fool I was!”
At that very moment such a loud sound of wailing broke out from the servants’ quarters that she clutched the young man’s arm, and Mary stood shivering from head to foot. The wailing grew wilder and wilder.
“What is it? What is it?” Mrs. Lennox gasped.
“Some one has died,” answered the boy officer. “You did not say it had broken out among your servants.”
“I did not know!” the Mem Sahib cried. “Come with me! Come with me!” and she turned and ran into the house.
After that appalling things happened, and the mysteriousness of the morning was explained to Mary. The cholera had broken out in its most fatal form and people were dying like flies. The Ayah had been taken ill in the night, and it was because she had just died that the servants had wailed in the huts. Before the next day three other servants were dead and others had run away in terror. There was panic on every side, and dying people in all the bungalows.
During the confusion and bewilderment of the second day Mary hid herself in the nursery and was forgotten by every one. Nobody thought of her, nobody wanted her, and strange things happened of which she knew nothing. Mary alternately cried and slept through the hours. She only knew that people were ill and that she heard mysterious and frightening sounds. Once she crept into the dining-room and found it empty, though a partly finished meal was on the table and chairs and plates looked as if they had been hastily pushed back when the diners rose suddenly for some reason. The child ate some fruit and biscuits, and being thirsty she drank a glass of wine which stood nearly filled. It was sweet, and she did not know how strong it was. Very soon it made her intensely drowsy, and she went back to her nursery and shut herself in again, frightened by cries she heard in the huts and by the hurrying sound of feet. The wine made her so sleepy that she could scarcely keep her eyes open and she lay down on her bed and knew nothing more for a long time.
Many things happened during the hours in which she slept so heavily, but she was not disturbed by the wails and the sound of things being carried in and out of the bungalow.
When she awakened she lay and stared at the wall. The house was perfectly still. She had never known it to be so silent before. She heard neither voices nor footsteps, and wondered if everybody had got well of the cholera and all the trouble was over. She wondered also who would take care of her now her Ayah was dead. There would be a new Ayah, and perhaps she would know some new stories. Mary had been rather tired of the old ones. She did not cry because her nurse had died. She was not an affectionate child and had never cared much for any one. The noise and hurrying about and wailing over the cholera had frightened her, and she had been angry because no one seemed to remember that she was alive. Every one was too panic-stricken to think of a little girl no one was fond of. When people had the cholera it seemed that they remembered nothing but themselves. But if every one had got well again, surely some one would remember and come to look for her.
But no one came, and as she lay waiting the house seemed to grow more and more silent. She heard something rustling on the matting and when she looked down she saw a little snake gliding along and watching her with eyes like jewels. She was not frightened, because he was a harmless little thing who would not hurt her and he seemed in a hurry to get out of the room. He slipped under the door as she watched him.
“How queer and quiet it is,” she said. “It sounds as if there was no one in the bungalow but me and the snake.”
Almost the next minute she heard footsteps in the compound, and then on the veranda. They were men’s footsteps, and the men entered the bungalow and talked in low voices. No one went to meet or speak to them and they seemed to open doors and look into rooms.
“What desolation!” she heard one voice say. “That pretty, pretty woman! I suppose the child, too. I heard there was a child, though no one ever saw her.”
Mary was standing in the middle of the nursery when they opened the door a few minutes later. She looked an ugly, cross little thing and was frowning because she was beginning to be hungry and feel disgracefully neglected. The first man who came in was a large officer she had once seen talking to her father. He looked tired and troubled, but when he saw her he was so startled that he almost jumped back.
“Barney!” he cried out. “There is a child here! A child alone! In a place like this! Mercy on us, who is she!”
“I am Mary Lennox,” the little girl said, drawing herself up stiffly. She thought the man was very rude to call her father’s bungalow “A place like this!” “I fell asleep when every one had the cholera and I have only just wakened up. Why does nobody come?”
“It is the child no one ever saw!” exclaimed the man, turning to his companions. “She has actually been forgotten!”
“Why was I forgotten?” Mary said, stamping her foot. “Why does nobody come?”
The young man whose name was Barney looked at her very sadly. Mary even thought she saw him wink his eyes as if to wink tears away.
“Poor little kid!” he said. “There is nobody left to come.”
It was in that strange and sudden way that Mary found out that she had neither father nor mother left; that they had died and been carried away in the night, and that the few native servants who had not died also had left the house as quickly as they could get out of it, none of them even remembering that there was a Missie Sahib. That was why the place was so quiet. It was true that there was no one in the bungalow but herself and the little rustling snake. --このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 From Publishers Weekly
Soothing and mellifluous, native Briton Bailey's voice proves an excellent instrument for polishing up a new edition of Burnett's story. Bratty and spoiled Mary Lennox is orphaned when her parents fall victim to a cholera outbreak in India. As a result, Mary becomes the ward of an uncle in England she has never met. As she hesitantly tries to carve a new life for herself at imposing and secluded Misselthwaite Manor, Mary befriends a high-spirited boy named Dickon and investigates a secret garden on the Manor grounds. She also discovers a sickly young cousin, Colin, who has been shut away in a hidden Manor room. Together Mary and Dickon help Colin blossom, and in the process Mary finds her identity and melts the heart of her emotionally distant uncle. Bailey makes fluid transitions between the voices and accents of various characters, from terse Mrs. Medlock and surly groundskeeper Ben to chipper housemaid Martha. And most enjoyably, she gives Mary a believably childlike voice. A brief biography of the author is included in an introduction. Ages 6-12.
Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information, Inc. --このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 Book Description
One of the most beloved children's books of all time and the inspiration for a feature film, a television miniseries, and a Broadway musical, The Secret Garden is the best-known work of Frances Hodgson Burnett. In this unforgettable story, three children find healing and friendship in a magical forgotten garden on the haunting Yorkshire moors.
--このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 Amazon.co.jp
メアリーお嬢さまはつむじまがり。そう呼ばれていたメアリーが、庭の草木や花の面倒をみているうちに、少しずつ変わっていく。メアリーはまた、メアリーに負けないくらい傲慢（ごうまん）で病弱ないとこ、コリンの病気も治してしまう。英国ヨークシャー州の荒野に建つ、陰気で古いお屋敷に閉じこもっていたふたりは、病気がちでいつも不機嫌なところまでそっくり。けれども、閉ざされていた秘密の庭に足を踏み入れ、さまざまなことを思い描いて遊びまわるようになると、みるみる間に子どもらしい元気を取り戻していった。 「そこは、だれにも想像できないほど気持ちのいい、そしてふしぎな感じのする場所でした。庭を囲む高い塀は、葉のおちたバラのつるでおおわれていました。つるはびっしりとからみあっています…『静かなのはあたりまえだわ』と、メアリーは小声で言いました。『十年間、この中で話をした人はいなかったんだもの』」
春が来て、新たな命が土の中から姿を見せると、気難しいメアリーとコリンにも笑顔が見られるようになる。
生きることや愛することに少しでも不安を感じたことがある者にとって、勇気を奮い起こしてくれそうな『The Secret Gardedn』（邦題『秘密の花園』）。読むものをわくわくさせ、元気づけてくれる1冊だ。フランシス・ホッジソン・バーネットの描く人物はみな個性的で、85年たった今でも子どもたちの心をとらえて離さない。（9～12才児向け）
--このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 メディア掲載レビューほか
両親を亡くしたメアリは、英国ヨークシャーの大きな屋敷に住む叔父に引き取られる。ある夜、寂しさで眠れないメアリに、廊下の先の鍵のかかった部屋から泣き声がするのが聞こえる。それは心と身体を病んだいとこの少年コリンだった。
塀に囲まれ、長い間入り口の扉には鍵がかけられて、誰も足を踏み入れたことのなかった秘密の花園。動物と話ができる少年ディコンの助けを借りて、メアリは花園の手入れをはじめる。自然にふれ、季節の移り変わりを肌で感じるようになったメアリの心は、やがて少しずつ開いてゆく。そして、心と身体を病み、生きる喜びを知らなかったコリンの心も。春の訪れと共に、生命の力が満ちてくる本書は、半世紀を越えて長く愛され続けているクラシックの名作。ターシャ・テューダーの絵も愛らしい。(み)
Copyright© ペイパーウェイト・ブックス All rights reserved. -- 『英語ペラペラキッズ(だけにじゃもったいない)ブックス』 より --このテキストは、kindle_edition版に関連付けられています。 
