were used by the family as outhouses to store wood and peats, to keep
the garden tools in, and for such like purposes. In summer, golden
flowers grew on the broken walls; in winter, grey frosts edged them
against the sky.

I fancy the whole garden was but the space once occupied by the huge
building, for its surface was the most irregular I ever saw in a garden.
It was up and down, up and down, in whatever direction you went, mounded
with heaps of ruins, over which the mould had gathered. For many years
bushes and flowers had grown upon them, and you might dig a good way
without coming to the stones, though come to them you must at last. The
walks wound about between the heaps, and through the thick walls of the
ruin, overgrown with lichens and mosses, now and then passing through an
arched door or window of the ancient building. It was a generous garden
in old-fashioned flowers and vegetables. There were a few apple and pear
trees also on a wall that faced the south, which were regarded by Willie
with mingled respect and desire, for he was not allowed to touch them,
while of the gooseberries he was allowed to eat as many as he pleased
when they were ripe, and of the currants too, after his mother had had
as many as she wanted for preserves.

Some spots were much too shady to allow either fruit or flowers to grow
in them, so high and close were the walls. But I need not say more about
the garden now, for I shall have occasion to refer to it again and
again, and I must not tell all I know at once, else how should I make a
story of it?