Niggle and Parish, who shows up in this beautiful landscape just after Niggle realizes that he needs him, set about developing the country around Niggle’s Tree together.
One day Niggle was busy planting a quickset hedge, and Parish was lying on the grass near by, looking attentively at a beautiful and shapely little yellow flower growing in the green turf. Niggle had put a lot of them among the roots of his Tree long ago. Suddenly Parish looked up: his face was glistening in the sun, and he was smiling.
‘This is grand!’ he said. ‘I oughtn’t to be here, really. Thank you for putting in a word for me,’
‘Nonsense,’ said Niggle. ‘I don’t remember what I said, but anyway it was not nearly enough.’
‘Oh yes, it was,’ said Parish. ‘It got me out a lot sooner. That Second Voice, you know: he had me sent here; he said you had asked to see me. I owe it to you.’
‘No. You owe it to the Second Voice,’ said Niggle. We both do.’
The time came when the house in the hollow, the garden, the grass, the forest, the lake, and all the country was nearly complete, in its own proper fashion. The Great Tree was in full blossom.
‘We shall finish this evening,’ said Parish one day. ‘After that we will go for a really long walk.’
They set out the next day, and they walked until they came right through the distances to the Edge. (…) They saw a man, he looked like a shepherd; he was walking towards them, down the grass slopes that led up the Mountains.
(…) ‘Are you a guide,’ Parish asked. ‘Could you tell me the name of this country?’
‘Don’t you know?’ said the man. ‘It is Niggle Country. It is Niggle’s picture, or most of it: a little of it is now Parish’s Garden.’
‘Niggle’s Picture!’ said Parish in astonishment. Did YOU think of all this, Niggle? I never knew you were so clever.’
‘It is proving very useful indeed,’ said the Second Voice. ‘As a holiday, and a refreshment. It is splendid for convalescence; and not only for that, for many it is the best introduction to the Mountains. It works wonders in some cases. I am sending more and more there. They seldom have to come back.’
‘No, that is so,’ said the First Voice. ‘I think we shall have to give the region a name. What do you propose?’
‘The Porter settled that some time ago,’ said the Second Voice. ‘TRAIN FOR NIGGLE’S PARISH IN THE BAY: He has shouted that for a long while now. Niggle’s Parish. I sent a message to both of them to tell them.’
‘What did they say?’
‘They both laughed. Laughed – the Mountains rang with it!’
Happy Easter, one and all. All’s well that ends well.
Illustrations by Alan Lee