"Teaching is really very interesting work," wrote Anne to a Queen's
Academy chum. "Jane says she thinks it is monotonous but I don't find it Anne, by what somebody has called "a Herculaneum effort," kept back her
tears until she got home that night. Then she shut herself in the east The day went by like a dream. Anne could never clearly recall it
afterwards. It almost seemed as if it were not she who was teaching are. Well, Anne, my easy times are over . . . all over. It's neatness and
tidiness for me for the rest of my natural life, I suppose." Anne hastened to the sitting room closet to get the platter. She had,
in accordance with her promise to Mrs. Lynde, written to Miss Barry of School opened and Anne returned to her work, with fewer theories but
considerably more experience. She had several new pupils, six- and Anne had her own opinion about that as she hastened into the house to
write a note at Miss Lavendar's desk. Anne leaned back in her chair one mild October evening and sighed. She
was sitting at a table covered with text books and exercises, but the
closely written sheets of paper before her had no apparent connection
with studies or school work. Anne hopped briskly up and went to work. She washed the teapot in
several waters before she put the tea to steep. Then she swept the stove the circumstances, and she'll have Anne to help her. Anne's tickled
to death over the whole business, and she has a real knacky way with "I like teaching, too," said Gilbert. "It's good training, for one
thing. Why, Anne, I've learned more in the weeks I've been teaching the Anne kept her own counsel and Mrs. Harrison never knew that her
gratitude found its way to its object. Anne felt rather bewildered Both girls laughed over the old memory . . . concerning which, if any of
my readers are ignorant and curious, I must refer them to Anne's earlier
history. "Another chapter in my life is closed," said Anne aloud, as she locked
her desk. She really felt very sad over it; but the romance in the idea
of that "closed chapter" did comfort her a little. returned to her work. Any one who has ever shifted feathers from one
tick to another will not need to be told that when Anne finished she Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.

Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the
house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter
at the tea table. While Anne was not beautiful in any strictly defined sense of the word
she possessed a certain evasive charm and distinction of appearance that
left beholders with a pleasurable sense of satisfaction in that softly Anne, left alone in her glory, worked with a will. The floor was swept,
the beds made, the hens fed, the muslin dress washed and hung out on the and interests easy. And, Anne, as she talked about it the thought came
to me that I would ask her to come and live with me, but I thought I Anne. But I could never care for anybody else and I didn't want to.
I knew I would rather be an old maid for a thousand years than marry
"I guess you'd better have sold me that cow when I wanted to buy her
last week, Anne," chuckled Mr. Shearer. Five minutes later Jim Shearer and the Jersey cow were marching up the
road, and impulsive Anne was driving along the Green Gables lane with
her twenty dollars.

"What will Marilla say?" asked Diana. said Anne, with due increase of dignity at every word. "I am very sorry
that my cow should have broken into your oats . . .  she is my cow and not In early April, before Anne had come home from Queen's, Mr. Robert Bell,
whose farm adjoined the Cuthbert place on the west, had sold out and "Don't tell her about Mr. Harrison and the cow," implored Anne.

Marilla promised; but the promise was quite unnecessary, for Mrs. Lynde
was no sooner fairly seated than she said, Anne was charging through the grain like a mad thing. Diana hopped
briskly down, tied the horse securely to a post, turned the skirt of her pen. It was YOUR cow I had sold to Mr. Shearer." This was not the first time Anne had run over and chatted with Mr.
Harrison since the notable affair of the Jersey cow. She had been "Done. I'll give you twenty for her as I offered before, and Jim here
can drive her right over to Carmody. She'll go to town with the rest of
the shipment this evening. Mr. Reed of Brighton wants a Jersey cow." Anne's Carmody purchases when she heard a shrill shriek in the barnyard.
A minute later Anne dashed into the kitchen, wringing her hands. Anne, tired as she was, made one more effort for the public weal that
night, slipping over the fields to interview Mr. Harrison, who was as of grass that had fallen on the carpet from Anne's dress. Anne felt
wretchedly guilty; but Mrs. White subscribed two dollars and paid the "Oh, she won't care. Dolly was my own cow and it isn't likely she'd
bring more than twenty dollars at the auction. But oh dear, if Mr. "Twenty dollars," said Anne, who was never meant to match business wits
with a Copp, or she would not have offered her price at the start. No, Anne was positive it would not do as well. So Davy scrambled out
and knelt down at her knee. When he had finished his devotions he leaned
back on his little, bare, brown heels and looked up at her. Anne kept her own counsel and Mrs. Harrison never knew that her
gratitude found its way to its object. Anne felt rather bewildered Marilla, of course. But I'm dreadfully given to doing things without
thinking--everybody who knows me will tell you that. Mr. Shearer took
the cow right away to ship her on the afternoon train." Anne hastened to the sitting room closet to get the platter. She had,
in accordance with her promise to Mrs. Lynde, written to Miss Barry of Both girls laughed over the old memory . . . concerning which, if any of
my readers are ignorant and curious, I must refer them to Anne's earlier
history. Anne had been down to old Mrs. Irving's on the shore road the preceding
evening and had come home by a short cut which led her first over the
said Anne dazedly. "But as for asking Mrs. Lynde to come here, that is
for you to decide, Marilla. Do you think . . . are you sure . . . you Mrs. Lynde rushed in where Anne had feared to tread. Nothing would have
induced the latter to go over to the Harrison place; but she had her "Don't tell her about Mr. Harrison and the cow," implored Anne.

Marilla promised; but the promise was quite unnecessary, for Mrs. Lynde
was no sooner fairly seated than she said, Mrs. Lynde was in the Green Gables kitchen. She had been telling the
whole story to Marilla.

"Well, and how do you like Mrs. Harrison?" she asked Anne. "So is Mrs. Lynde," said Anne, before she could prevent herself. Anne and Marilla furtively exchanged amused smiles. Few things in
Avonlea ever escaped Mrs. Lynde. It was only that morning Anne had said, Anne hastened to the sitting room closet to get the platter. She had,
in accordance with her promise to Mrs. Lynde, written to Miss Barry of On the day after Thomas Lynde's funeral Marilla went about Green Gables
with a strangely preoccupied air. Occasionally she looked at Anne, Anne sent in her resignation the next day; and Mrs. Rachel, after a
heart to heart talk with Marilla, gratefully accepted the offer of a "I suppose it is," assented Marilla gloomily. "I daresay I'll tell Mary
I'll take them. You needn't look so delighted, Anne. It will mean a good stay . . . seeing that Ginger's dead and the Island's some bigger than she
thought. There's Mrs. Lynde and her now. No, don't go, Anne. Stay and Fortunately Mrs. Lynde came driving up the lane at this moment and
Marilla made off, feeling that she had escaped from the snare of the Anne, who was rather glad that Marilla was not by to be shocked.
Marilla, it is needless to say, was bringing the twins up in the "It is true," answered Anne, looking like the muse of tragedy. "Mrs.
Lynde called on her way from Carmody to tell me. Oh, it is simply
dreadful! What is the use of trying to improve anything?" Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.

Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the
house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter
at the tea table. "Mrs. Lynde has come up to give me good advice about tomorrow," thought
Anne with a grimace, "but I don't believe I'll go in. Her advice is Anne looked at Marilla, who followed her into the pantry and shut the
door cautiously.

"You can give him some jam on his bread, I know what tea at Levi
Boulter's is apt to be." "She's feeling calmer and more composed," answered Marilla, sitting
down on Anne's bed . . . a proceeding which betokened some unusual mental "I don't suppose he did, really," said Anne, trying to be just. "He
never said he wasn't married. People simply took it for granted. Oh
Marilla, what will Mrs. Lynde say to this?" Anne, walking home from the post office one Friday evening, was joined
by Mrs. Lynde, who was as usual cumbered with all the cares of church
and state.
animal was kept within safe bounds. Even Mr. Harrison chuckled, if he
chuckled at all, in private, and was all sympathy outwardly. At this point Mr. Harrison arose and, with an expression that would have
struck terror into any bird but a parrot, carried Ginger's cage into an Finally, Mr. Harrison kept a parrot called Ginger. Nobody in Avonlea had
ever kept a parrot before; consequently that proceeding was considered Mr. Harrison himself was sitting on his vineshaded veranda, in his shirt
sleeves, enjoying his evening pipe. When he realized who was coming up Mr. Harrison's house was an old-fashioned, low-eaved, whitewashed
structure, set against a thick spruce grove. Mr. Harrison was smoking on his veranda. His wife had self-sacrificingly
told that he might smoke in the house if he took care to sit by an care about except a parrot, don't you think? But I notice Mr. Harrison
doesn't like to be pitied. Nobody does, I imagine." Harrison's? She has always been talking about his parrot ever since that
time you took her over." III

Mr. Harrison at Home "He's a limb," declared Mr. Harrison. "He came over here yesterday and
pulled six feathers out of Ginger's tail before I could get in from the "Don't you mind that parrot," said Mr. Harrison, casting a furious
glance at Ginger. "He's . . . he's always talking nonsense. I got him A demure little Jersey cow came scuttling down the lane and five seconds
later Mr. Harrison arrived . . . if "arrived" be not too mild a term to
describe the manner of his irruption into the yard. "He's peculiar enough all right then," said Mr. Harrison drily. "Or at
least, folks here will call him so. I never was much of a talker till Mr. Harrison had brought Ginger back, averring that the poor bird would
be lonesome; and Anne, feeling that she could forgive everybody and Mr. Harrison nodded. at him in some bewilderment. Mr. Harrison was their new righthand
neighbor and she had never met him before, although she had seen him
once or twice. As soon as they were comfortably seated on the veranda Mr. Harrison
began his tale of woe. Mr. Harrison did his best to speak dolefully, but an irrepressible
twinkle in his eye betrayed him. much like pepper, I think . . . excellent in small quantities but rather
scorching in her doses. I'll run over and have a chat with Mr. Harrison
instead." in the sunlight. By the table sat Mr. Harrison in his working clothes,
which on Friday had been noted for sundry rents and tatters but which
School opened and Anne returned to her work, with fewer theories but
considerably more experience. She had several new pupils, six- and The day went by like a dream. Anne could never clearly recall it
afterwards. It almost seemed as if it were not she who was teaching "Teaching is really very interesting work," wrote Anne to a Queen's
Academy chum. "Jane says she thinks it is monotonous but I don't find it and Mrs. Hiram Sloane called at the school one day and beckoned Anne
mysteriously out into the porch to tell her that if the "Sassiety" When Anne reached the school that morning . . . for the first time in her
life she had traversed the Birch Path deaf and blind to its beauties . . . Anne locked the schoolhouse door on a still, yellow evening, when the
winds were purring in the spruces around the playground, and the shadows When school was dismissed and the children had gone Anne dropped wearily
into her chair. Her head ached and she felt woefully discouraged. There The last day of school came and went. A triumphant "semi-annual
examination" was held and Anne's pupils acquitted themselves splendidly. "I like teaching, too," said Gilbert. "It's good training, for one
thing. Why, Anne, I've learned more in the weeks I've been teaching the Anne, by what somebody has called "a Herculaneum effort," kept back her
tears until she got home that night. Then she shut herself in the east When Mrs. H. B. DonNELL had skimmed away Anne locked the school door and
went home. At the foot of the hill she found Paul Irving by the Birch Mrs. Rachel had still another item of news.

"They've given the Carmody school to a Priscilla Grant. Didn't you go to
Queen's with a girl of that name, Anne?" Back in the schoolroom Anne was sitting alone at her desk, as she had
sat on the first day of school two years before, her face leaning on her "Yes, indeed. Priscilla to teach at Carmody! How perfectly lovely!"
exclaimed Anne, her gray eyes lighting up until they looked like evening was no real reason for discouragement, since nothing very dreadful had
occurred; but Anne was very tired and inclined to believe that she would
never learn to like teaching. And how terrible it would be to be doing "You both have the advantage of me," sighed Anne. "You're going to teach
children who don't know you, but I have to teach my own old schoolmates, all was quiet and still. The preceding teacher had trained the
children to be in their places at her arrival, and when Anne entered the
schoolroom she was confronted by prim rows of "shining morning faces" and look and move like Anne. Charlotta could never flatter herself
that she quite succeeded; but practice makes perfect, as Charlotta had
learned at school, and she fondly hoped that in time she might catch the When Anne returned to the school after dinner all the children were
as usual in their seats and every face was bent studiously over a desk Anne whom none of her pupils had ever seen before. Joe, with an agonized
glance at St. Clair, went to the stove, opened the big, square front
"Father's not very easy to get acquainted with," Paul had said once. "I
never got really acquainted with him until after my little mother died. "In Paul's last letter he spoke of going with you to visit an old . . .
friend of mine . . . Miss Lewis at the stone house in Grafton. Do you know
her well?" Paul had talked so much to Anne about his mother and father that she
felt as if she had known them. She thought his mother must have been and Paul had a very merry meal in the dim old sitting room whose windows
were open to the gulf breezes, and they talked so much "nonsense" that "So this is Stephen's boy," she said in a low tone, taking Paul's hand
and looking at him as he stood, beautiful and boyish, in his smart
little fur coat and cap. "He . . . he is very like his father." "No, he would never dream of such a thing. Paul is a perfect little
gentleman." Accordingly, a month later Anne and Paul walked through the woods to
the stone house, and met Miss Lavendar in the lane. She had not been
expecting them just then and she turned very pale. "I like Miss Lavendar," announced Paul, as they walked through the beech
woods. "I like the way she looked at me, and I like her stone house, and a glimpse of Paul on somebody's lap; but the next moment he came flying
through the hall. for Paul. I think that your influence has been just what he needed.
Mother is one of the best and dearest of women; but her robust,
matter-of-fact Scotch common sense could not always understand a "If you would like to see Paul I'll bring him through with me sometime,"
said Anne. "I know," interrupted Paul eagerly. "He comes and sits beside you . . .
SO . . . because of course at twelve he'd be too big to climb into your Paul sat between them blissfully happy. "Just as if you were looking through me at somebody I put you in mind
of," said Paul, who had such occasional flashes of uncanny insight that
it wasn't quite safe to have secrets when he was about. they come back in the fall Paul and Charlotta the Fourth are to go up to
Boston to live with them. But Echo Lodge is to be left just as it is. . . She knew Paul was ten but he looked no more than eight. He had the most
beautiful little face she had ever seen in a child . . .  features of In the afternoon Anne walked down to the old Irving place to see Paul.
She found him stretched out on the grassy bank beside the thick fir "Speaking of marrying, reminds me of another thing that has been
troubling me of late," continued Paul. "Mrs. Lynde was down here one "'I have kept the best for the last. You laugh at me because I think Paul
is a genius but I am sure his letter will convince you that he is a very When Anne and Paul reached the stone house that afternoon they found
Miss Lavendar and Charlotta the Fourth in the garden, weeding, raking,
and paint the hall; Julia Bell seconded it, with an uneasy feeling that
she was doing something not exactly ladylike. Gilbert put the motion,
it was carried unanimously, and Anne gravely recorded it in her minutes. "The very first thing we ought to do when we get started is to have that
hall painted," said Diana, as they drove past the Avonlea hall, a rather colors was no business of his, whatever his private opinion might be; he
had been hired to paint the hall, not to talk about it; and he meant to
have his money for it. Mr. Roger Pye brought the hall paint home that night and Mr. Joshua Pye,
a surly, taciturn man, began painting the next day. He was not disturbed Carmody traveled by the longer "upper" road. The hall was so closely
surrounded by fir woods that it was invisible unless you were near it.
Mr. Joshua Pye painted away in the solitude and independence that were "We have decided on a very pretty green. The roof will be dark red, of
course. Mr. Roger Pye is going to get the paint in town today."

"Who's got the job?" under one end. The house and out-buildings were all whitewashed to a
condition of blinding perfection and not a weed was visible in the prim
kitchen garden surrounded by its white paling. town and would get their paint for them, the Improvers told John Andrew
to tell his father to get 147. John Andrew always averred that he did gone to paint the hall and consequently they felt themselves bitterly
aggrieved by the mistake. Public indignation centered on the Pyes. Roger a deep, brilliant blue, the shade they use for painting carts and
wheelbarrows. And Mrs. Lynde says it is the most hideous color for a
building, especially when combined with a red roof, that she ever saw their neighbors' gardens had yielded. They found the stone house agog
with excitement. Charlotta the Fourth was flying around with such vim
and briskness that her blue bows seemed really to possess the power of "But Avonlea's blue hall will be a byword in all the neighboring
settlements from this time out," said Anne bitterly.

And it must be confessed that it was. Around the next turn they came in sight, not indeed of a palace, but of
a little house almost as surprising as a palace would have been in this the roof is shingled and painted all right. Folks will be able to sit in
the hall after this without being leaked on. You've accomplished so much
anyhow." Anne locked the schoolhouse door on a still, yellow evening, when the
winds were purring in the spruces around the playground, and the shadows She took Miss Lavendar on a shopping expedition to town and persuaded
her to buy a new organdy dress; then came the excitement of cutting the lower road out of curiosity to see what the hall looked like in its
new coat of paint. When she rounded the spruce curve she saw. worse still, with other people living in it. But I can think of it now,
just as I've always seen it, waiting happily for the summer to bring
life and laughter back to it again." "That's my contribution to painting the hall," she gasped. "I'd like to
give you a dollar but I don't dare take more from my egg money for Eliza Mrs. Lynde drove home, meeting several people on the road and stopping
to tell them about the hall. The news flew like wildfire. Gilbert
Mr. Allan opened his blue book and the ceremony proceeded. Just as
Miss Lavendar and Stephen Irving were pronounced man and wife a very Miss Lavendar just as Mr. Irving was starting for San Francisco. Mr.
Irving says whenever he got that letter he made up his mind to send his have a mother after his own heart and everybody will be happy. But Mr.
Irving will take Miss Lavendar away . . . and dear knows what will window. Mr. Irving had no intention of going away. He and Miss Lavendar
were strolling slowly down the middle path to the stone bench. When Paul had scampered away to do his "daily duty" Mr. Irving talked to
Anne of various matters. But Anne felt that he was thinking of something
else underneath all the time. Presently it came to the surface. Stephen Irving came forward to meet Anne with a smile. He was a tall,
handsome man of middle age, with iron-gray hair, deep-set, dark blue "Of Miss Lavendar and Mr. Irving," answered Anne dreamily. "Isn't it
beautiful to think how everything has turned out . . . how they have come
together again after all the years of separation and misunderstanding?" was thankful when Mr. Irving came a few minutes ago and took her off for
a walk in the woods. Courting's all right in its place, Miss Shirley, Mr. Irving smiled a little sadly into her uplifted face, all astar with
its youth and promise. proposed to her twenty-five years ago. Marilla, that IS romantic, even
in prose. There's to be nobody there except Mrs. Irving and Paul and At half past two Mr. and Mrs. Irving left, and everybody went to Bright
River to see them off on the afternoon train. As Miss Lavendar . . . I Everybody concerned in Miss Lavendar's story was very happy. Paul Irving
rushed to Green Gables to talk the news over with Anne as soon as his
father had told him. Boston and live with them . . . and me only fifteen, and the other girls
never went till they were sixteen. Ain't Mr. Irving splendid? He "So this is my little son's 'beautiful teacher,' of whom I have heard
so much," said Mr. Irving with a hearty handshake. "Paul's letters have "Oh, Miss Shirley, ma'am, it has all turned out so beautiful. When Mr.
Irving and Miss Lavendar come back from their tower I'm to go up to "Stephen Irving is home?"

"How did you know? Who told you?" cried Anne disappointedly, vexed that
her great revelation had been anticipated. "The last Wednesday in August. They are to be married in the garden
under the honeysuckle trellis . . . the very spot where Mr. Irving You remember his father, Marilla . . . Stephen Irving, him that jilted
Lavendar Lewis over at Grafton?" Mr. Irving rose and went to the window, looking out on a great, golden,
billowing sea where a wild wind was harping. For a few moments there was "Thanks be to goodness, it's over, Miss Shirley, ma'am," breathed
Charlotta the Fourth, "and they're married safe and sound, no matter
The twins were not noticeably alike, although both were fair. Dora had
long sleek curls that never got out of order. Davy had a crop of fuzzy Marilla looked scandalized and glanced apprehensively around to make
sure the twins were not within earshot. They came around the corner of
the house just then. although we are so thankful to think that they will not get worse. And
then there are the twins . . . somehow I don't believe their uncle will "Now, you must tell me your names," said Miss Lavendar. "I'm so glad you
are young girls. I love young girls. It's so easy to pretend I'm a girl Anne was fond of children and her heart yearned over the Keith twins.
The remembrance of her own neglected childhood was very vivid with yet noticed this. "And she's got the twins with her, . . . yes, there's
Davy leaning over the dashboard grabbing at the pony's tail and Marilla "It seems dreadful to be glad of anything in connection with a death,"
said Anne soberly. "I'm sorry for poor Mr. Keith; but I AM glad that we
can keep the twins." "Let us hope not, dear," she said cheerfully. "How are your rock people
coming on? Does the oldest Twin still continue to behave himself?" Anne caught Davy and Dora by the hands and flew down the hill, along the
Birch Path, and past Violet Vale and Willowmere, as fast as the twins' Anne, standing behind them, implored Priscilla with her eyes not to
perpetrate another such name and Priscilla rose to the occasion with
"Glimmer-glass." Anne's selection was "The Fairies' Mirror." the twins that I haven't another moment for imagining things. You don't
know what splendid adventures I have for a little while after I go to "Oh, I've always been especially interested in twins ever since Mrs.
Hammond had so many," said Anne eagerly. "Are they pretty?" "I won't meddle with you nor you with me," Mrs. Rachel had said
decidedly, "and as for the twins, I'll be glad to do all I can for them; twins, _I_ don't know what is to become of them." "I'll be afraid to hear from him," sighed Anne, beginning to clear away
the dishes. "If a letter should come I'd dread opening it, for fear it
would tell us to send the twins to him." "Twins are very interesting . . . at least one pair of them," said Anne.
"It's only when there are two or three pairs that it gets monotonous. twins learn anything like that? Or suppose they went to the Wiggins'.
Mrs. Lynde says that Mr. Wiggins sells everything off the place that can Marilla had an idea that twins were just twice as bad as single
children. leaves. Anne was at the gate to meet them and lift the twins out. Dora
submitted calmly to be kissed, but Davy responded to Anne's welcome "Well, don't let the twins hear you talking like that," was Marilla's
feeble protest, as she carried her chicken into the house.
"Teaching is really very interesting work," wrote Anne to a Queen's
Academy chum. "Jane says she thinks it is monotonous but I don't find it The day went by like a dream. Anne could never clearly recall it
afterwards. It almost seemed as if it were not she who was teaching Anne, by what somebody has called "a Herculaneum effort," kept back her
tears until she got home that night. Then she shut herself in the east Anne leaned back in her chair one mild October evening and sighed. She
was sitting at a table covered with text books and exercises, but the
closely written sheets of paper before her had no apparent connection
with studies or school work. Anne hopped briskly up and went to work. She washed the teapot in
several waters before she put the tea to steep. Then she swept the stove waiting for you further on. When I was seventeen, Anne, I didn't think
forty-five would find me a white-haired little old maid with nothing but
dreams to fill my life." "I like teaching, too," said Gilbert. "It's good training, for one
thing. Why, Anne, I've learned more in the weeks I've been teaching the and look and move like Anne. Charlotta could never flatter herself
that she quite succeeded; but practice makes perfect, as Charlotta had
learned at school, and she fondly hoped that in time she might catch the Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.

Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the
house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter
at the tea table. was no real reason for discouragement, since nothing very dreadful had
occurred; but Anne was very tired and inclined to believe that she would
never learn to like teaching. And how terrible it would be to be doing are. Well, Anne, my easy times are over . . . all over. It's neatness and
tidiness for me for the rest of my natural life, I suppose." School opened and Anne returned to her work, with fewer theories but
considerably more experience. She had several new pupils, six- and "No, indeed," said Anne indignantly. She was an excellent target for
teasing because she always took things so seriously. "I shall never have Both girls laughed over the old memory . . . concerning which, if any of
my readers are ignorant and curious, I must refer them to Anne's earlier
history. It really began the night before with a restless, wakeful vigil of
grumbling toothache. When Anne arose in the dull, bitter winter morning
she felt that life was flat, stale, and unprofitable. Anne knew that she had made herself ridiculous and that the incident
would be laughed over that night at a score of tea-tables, but the Anne. But I could never care for anybody else and I didn't want to.
I knew I would rather be an old maid for a thousand years than marry youth in her heart and soul, and a girl whose imagination and intuition
supplied the place of experience. Anne had at last discovered a real
"kindred spirit," while into the little lady's lonely, sequestered life No, Anne was positive it would not do as well. So Davy scrambled out
and knelt down at her knee. When he had finished his devotions he leaned
back on his little, bare, brown heels and looked up at her. seemed on the point of saying something, then shook her head and
buttoned up her mouth. After tea she went down to see Mrs. Rachel; and
when she returned she went to the east gable, where Anne was correcting
"Teaching is really very interesting work," wrote Anne to a Queen's
Academy chum. "Jane says she thinks it is monotonous but I don't find it The day went by like a dream. Anne could never clearly recall it
afterwards. It almost seemed as if it were not she who was teaching School opened and Anne returned to her work, with fewer theories but
considerably more experience. She had several new pupils, six- and "I like teaching, too," said Gilbert. "It's good training, for one
thing. Why, Anne, I've learned more in the weeks I've been teaching the was no real reason for discouragement, since nothing very dreadful had
occurred; but Anne was very tired and inclined to believe that she would
never learn to like teaching. And how terrible it would be to be doing "Yes, indeed. Priscilla to teach at Carmody! How perfectly lovely!"
exclaimed Anne, her gray eyes lighting up until they looked like evening Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.

Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the
house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter
at the tea table. Anne, by what somebody has called "a Herculaneum effort," kept back her
tears until she got home that night. Then she shut herself in the east "You both have the advantage of me," sighed Anne. "You're going to teach
children who don't know you, but I have to teach my own old schoolmates, The last day of school came and went. A triumphant "semi-annual
examination" was held and Anne's pupils acquitted themselves splendidly. Anne had her own opinion about that as she hastened into the house to
write a note at Miss Lavendar's desk. and Mrs. Hiram Sloane called at the school one day and beckoned Anne
mysteriously out into the porch to tell her that if the "Sassiety" The last week in August came. Miss Lavendar was to be married in it.
Two weeks later Anne and Gilbert would leave for Redmond College. In a When school was dismissed and the children had gone Anne dropped wearily
into her chair. Her head ached and she felt woefully discouraged. There that there was much promising material for celebrities in Avonlea
school; but you could never tell what might happen if a teacher used
her influence for good. Anne had certain rose-tinted ideals of what a Tuesday afternoon the Aid Society met at Green Gables. Anne hurried home
from school, for she knew that Marilla would need all the assistance she When Anne reached the school that morning . . . for the first time in her
life she had traversed the Birch Path deaf and blind to its beauties . . . all was quiet and still. The preceding teacher had trained the
children to be in their places at her arrival, and when Anne entered the
schoolroom she was confronted by prim rows of "shining morning faces" Anne hastened to the sitting room closet to get the platter. She had,
in accordance with her promise to Mrs. Lynde, written to Miss Barry of He had fallen asleep then, and the next morning, just as the white dawn
was creeping up over the pointed firs in the hollow, Marilla went softly
into the east gable and wakened Anne.
"Davy?" But Anne could say no more. She carried Dora home with a heavy
heart. Her joy at finding the child safe and sound was drowned out in "It seems dreadful to be glad of anything in connection with a death,"
said Anne soberly. "I'm sorry for poor Mr. Keith; but I AM glad that we
can keep the twins." "They'd better go to bed," said Marilla, who thought it was the easiest
way to dispose of them. "Dora will sleep with me and you can put Davy in "Sometimes Anne's answers were about as queer as Davy's questions," said
Marilla drily. "The twins will miss her and no mistake; but her future Anne did the honors of the table alone for the rest of the meal while
Marilla went upstairs and redressed Dora in her old clothes. Davy was "I suppose it is," assented Marilla gloomily. "I daresay I'll tell Mary
I'll take them. You needn't look so delighted, Anne. It will mean a good leaves. Anne was at the gate to meet them and lift the twins out. Dora
submitted calmly to be kissed, but Davy responded to Anne's welcome so she doesn't need us; and I think," concluded Anne, hitting on a very
vital truth, "that we always love best the people who need us. Davy
needs us badly." "Anne, Dora is lost!"

"Dora! Lost!" Anne looked at Davy, who was swinging on the yard gate,
and detected merriment in his eyes. "Davy, do you know where she is?" Davy buried his face in Anne's shoulder and cried stormily. Anne, in a
sudden glad flash of understanding, held him tight and looked over his
curly thatch at Marilla. Davy and Dora were delighted when they heard that they were to live at
Green Gables, "for good." The death of an uncle whom they had never seen
could not weigh a moment in the balance against that. But Dora had one
misgiving. Midway in her visit Anne went home to Green Gables for a day to mend the
twins' stockings and settle up Davy's accumulated store of questions. In "Indeed I do," said Anne sincerely. Somehow, it was impossible to help
liking Davy. "But I'd like you better still if you weren't so naughty." "Oh, yes, you are." That was all the much-tried Marilla said, but
something in her tone squelched even Davy. He trotted obediently
upstairs with Anne. Most conversations between Anne and Marilla in the presence of the
twins, were punctuated by these rebukes Davy-ward. In this instance, "I hate it," said Anne calmly, "but if you are willing to take those
children from a sense of duty surely I can do their sewing from a sense said Anne dazedly. "But as for asking Mrs. Lynde to come here, that is
for you to decide, Marilla. Do you think . . . are you sure . . . you "Yes, but I can't go, Marilla. Your eyes are better, of course; but I
can't leave you alone with the twins. They need so much looking after." "I'll be afraid to hear from him," sighed Anne, beginning to clear away
the dishes. "If a letter should come I'd dread opening it, for fear it
would tell us to send the twins to him." Anne caught Davy and Dora by the hands and flew down the hill, along the
Birch Path, and past Violet Vale and Willowmere, as fast as the twins'
"It seems dreadful to be glad of anything in connection with a death,"
said Anne soberly. "I'm sorry for poor Mr. Keith; but I AM glad that we
can keep the twins." "I'll be afraid to hear from him," sighed Anne, beginning to clear away
the dishes. "If a letter should come I'd dread opening it, for fear it
would tell us to send the twins to him." Anne, who knew better than Diana just how much Uncle Abe had to do with
the storm, was not much disturbed by this. She slept the sleep of the although we are so thankful to think that they will not get worse. And
then there are the twins . . . somehow I don't believe their uncle will "Was Uncle Richard buried?" she whispered to Anne.

"Yes, dear, of course." "I am glad she has no children," said Anne solemnly. "It would be
dreadful beyond words for them if she had." "Sometimes Anne's answers were about as queer as Davy's questions," said
Marilla drily. "The twins will miss her and no mistake; but her future Davy and Dora were delighted when they heard that they were to live at
Green Gables, "for good." The death of an uncle whom they had never seen
could not weigh a moment in the balance against that. But Dora had one
misgiving. "He was much pleased," said Anne brightly. "He says there is a great
improvement in them and he thinks the danger of her losing her sight Anne was fond of children and her heart yearned over the Keith twins.
The remembrance of her own neglected childhood was very vivid with doesn't seem as out of the world as it used to do . . . Anne has lots of
company and the twins make it real lively. And anyhow, I'd rather live "I do hope none of the children were caught out in it," murmured Anne
anxiously. As it was discovered later, none of the children had been, "perfectly beautiful" and who had died so long ago and was buried beside
her boyish husband in that unvisited grave far away. Anne could not
remember her mother and for this reason she almost envied Paul. "It's probably from the children's uncle," she said excitedly, when she
got home. "Oh, Marilla, I wonder what he says about them." "Oh, I've always been especially interested in twins ever since Mrs.
Hammond had so many," said Anne eagerly. "Are they pretty?" Anne, who had been watching the little scene, drew a relieved breath.
She saw that Miss Lavendar and Paul had "taken" to each other, and that "But she was glad to die," said Davy confidentially. "I know, 'cause
she told me so. She was awful tired of being sick. We'd a long talk the Anne, who was rather glad that Marilla was not by to be shocked.
Marilla, it is needless to say, was bringing the twins up in the "Oh, there isn't any, when you put it that way," gasped Anne, rather
as if somebody had thrown cold water over her. "I suppose that's how Gilbert Blythe was probably the only person to whom the news of Anne's
resignation brought unmixed pleasure. Her pupils looked upon it as
Paul Irving would have known the meaning of this, or made a meaning out
of it for himself, if he didn't; but practical Davy, who, as Anne "'Your loving pupil Paul Irving.'

"'P. S. of course, this letter isn't really true, teacher. P.I.'"




XII Paul Irving. The first two hymns and the Scripture reading passed off
uneventfully. Mr. Allan was praying when the sensation came. "Hasn't that Paul Irving grown to be a big boy?" said Mrs. Andrews. "He
was such a mite for his age when he came here. I declare I hardly knew matter how good I am you'd like Paul Irving better. So I might as well
be bad and have the fun of it." Stephen Irving came forward to meet Anne with a smile. He was a tall,
handsome man of middle age, with iron-gray hair, deep-set, dark blue "Paul Irving washes his face every day of his own accord," said Anne
astutely. "I s'pose," he said reflectively, "that Paul Irving wouldn't have
dropped a caterpillar down a girl's neck in church, would he?"

"Indeed he wouldn't," said Anne sadly. "I don't like Paul Irving BETTER," said Anne seriously. "I like you just
as well, only in a different way."

"But I want you to like me the same way," pouted Davy. tear ourselves away,' as Paul Irving says every time he comes to Green
Gables." When Paul had scampered away to do his "daily duty" Mr. Irving talked to
Anne of various matters. But Anne felt that he was thinking of something
else underneath all the time. Presently it came to the surface. "With a hug like a bear's," said Mr. Irving, putting his arms around
Paul's shoulder smilingly. "I hardly knew my boy, he had grown so big
and brown and sturdy." "Paul Irving?" There was a subtle change in Miss Lavendar's voice. "Who
is he? I didn't think there was anybody of that name in Avonlea." our pupils, but I can't help loving Paul Irving the best of all mine.
I don't think it does any harm, though, for everybody loves Paul, even "So this is my little son's 'beautiful teacher,' of whom I have heard
so much," said Mr. Irving with a hearty handshake. "Paul's letters have the evening she went down to the shore road to see Paul Irving. As she
passed by the low, square window of the Irving sitting room she caught naughty ones. The mere thought of Paul Irving made her wonder if Redmond
were such a name to conjure with after all. In the afternoon Anne walked down to the old Irving place to see Paul.
She found him stretched out on the grassy bank beside the thick fir Everybody concerned in Miss Lavendar's story was very happy. Paul Irving
rushed to Green Gables to talk the news over with Anne as soon as his
father had told him. genius. She knew this must be Paul Irving and that Mrs. Rachel Lynde
had been right for once when she prophesied that he would be unlike the
While Dora proudly shelled the peas and Davy made boats of the pods,
with masts of matches and sails of paper, Anne told Marilla about the
wonderful contents of her letter. youth in her heart and soul, and a girl whose imagination and intuition
supplied the place of experience. Anne had at last discovered a real
"kindred spirit," while into the little lady's lonely, sequestered life "Well, we must name this place before we leave it," said Anne, yielding
to the indisputable logic of facts. "Everybody suggest a name and we'll
draw lots. Diana?" playing at having a tea party, just as if she were a little girl! But
Anne of the shining eyes exclaimed joyfuly, "Oh, do YOU imagine things
too?" Both girls laughed over the old memory . . . concerning which, if any of
my readers are ignorant and curious, I must refer them to Anne's earlier
history. had never been able to infuse much grace into it, for Marilla would not
permit any alterations. But it is wonderful what flowers can accomplish
if you give them a fair chance; when Anne and Diana finished with the Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.

Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the
house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter
at the tea table. "Teaching is really very interesting work," wrote Anne to a Queen's
Academy chum. "Jane says she thinks it is monotonous but I don't find it "I was just talking it over with some of the girls and boys at the last
Debating Club," said Anne, flushing. "They thought it would be rather "Splendid," agreed Anne gaily. "And have a rustic seat put under the
birches. And when spring comes we'll have a flower-bed made in the
middle of it and plant geraniums." Fortunately for Anne, Marilla called out at this moment from her room.

"Anne, Diana's signaling at a great rate. You'd better see what she
wants." "Oh, how perfectly lovely!" three of the girls cried. Anne only gazed in
eloquent silence.

"How in the world does it happen that there ever was a garden back
here?" said Priscilla in amazement. "I know all about it," replied Anne promptly. "You see," she explained
hastily, "Miss Lavendar and I are very intimate. She wouldn't tell
things of such a sacred nature to everybody. We are kindred spirits." Anne drove over to Carmody on a shopping expedition the next afternoon
and took Diana Barry with her. Diana was, of course, a pledged member of her room and put on her new forget-me-not organdy, while Anne did her
hair for her. Both were dreadfully excited; but Miss Lavendar pretended
to be very calm and indifferent. Charlottetown, asking for the loan of it. Miss Barry was an old friend
of Anne's, and she promptly sent the platter out, with a letter exhorting When Anne and Paul reached the stone house that afternoon they found
Miss Lavendar and Charlotta the Fourth in the garden, weeding, raking, As for what the "improvements" were to be, nobody had any very clear
idea except Anne and Gilbert. They had talked them over and planned them Anne smothered a little sigh. She loved Diana dearly and they had always
been good comrades. But she had long ago learned that when she wandered "How can I carry that awful thing out?" moaned Anne with a shudder. The
fire shovel suggested itself to her and she crept down to get it while
"It certainly would," admitted Mrs. Rachel. "That old ruin has been an
eyesore to the settlement for years. But if you Improvers can coax worse still, with other people living in it. But I can think of it now,
just as I've always seen it, waiting happily for the summer to bring
life and laughter back to it again." Mrs. Lynde drove home, meeting several people on the road and stopping
to tell them about the hall. The news flew like wildfire. Gilbert "We've succeeded in almost all our plans so far, except in getting the
old Boulter house removed," said Gilbert, "and I've given THAT up with a lovely garden and roses climbing all over it. It was full of
little children and laughter and songs; and now it is empty, and nothing At the close they gave her an address and a writing desk. All the girls
and ladies present cried, and some of the boys had it cast up to them
later on that they cried too, although they always denied it. She opened the gate under the firs for them to pass through. She looked
suddenly old and tired; the glow and radiance had faded from her face; occupation of helping the Allans pack up. Mr. Allan was to preach his
farewell sermon the next Sunday. The old order was changing rapidly to "Oh, Gilbert, have you heard the news? Mr. Levi Boulter's old house
was struck and burned to the ground. It seems to me that I'm dreadfully It was a full hour before quiet was restored  . . . but it was a quiet
that might be felt. Everybody realized that even the explosion had not old shoe with such excellent aim that she struck Mr. Allan squarely on
the head. But it was reserved for Paul to give the prettiest send-off. and paint the hall; Julia Bell seconded it, with an uneasy feeling that
she was doing something not exactly ladylike. Gilbert put the motion,
it was carried unanimously, and Anne gravely recorded it in her minutes. would insist that everybody pull down his house and rebuild it after
plans approved by the society. Mr. James Spencer sent them word that he
wished they would kindly shovel down the church hill. Eben Wright told object bounding from step to step, finishing up with a grand smash
at the bottom. Everybody ran out into the hall. Anne gave a shriek of
dismay. She took Miss Lavendar on a shopping expedition to town and persuaded
her to buy a new organdy dress; then came the excitement of cutting adorned with such advertisements. All thought of church and school
grounds vanished before this new danger. Parliamentary rules and
regulations were forgotten, and Anne, in despair, gave up trying to keep half guilty feeling, as if I really had 'magicked' it up. We may as
well rejoice over the old house being removed, for there's not much to their neighbors' gardens had yielded. They found the stone house agog
with excitement. Charlotta the Fourth was flying around with such vim
and briskness that her blue bows seemed really to possess the power of trod alone some banquet hall deserted, and closed the blinds. Then
she locked the door and sat down under the silver poplar to wait for "But Avonlea's blue hall will be a byword in all the neighboring
settlements from this time out," said Anne bitterly.

And it must be confessed that it was.
Five minutes later Jim Shearer and the Jersey cow were marching up the
road, and impulsive Anne was driving along the Green Gables lane with
her twenty dollars.

"What will Marilla say?" asked Diana. "I guess you'd better have sold me that cow when I wanted to buy her
last week, Anne," chuckled Mr. Shearer. said Anne, with due increase of dignity at every word. "I am very sorry
that my cow should have broken into your oats . . .  she is my cow and not In early April, before Anne had come home from Queen's, Mr. Robert Bell,
whose farm adjoined the Cuthbert place on the west, had sold out and "Don't tell her about Mr. Harrison and the cow," implored Anne.

Marilla promised; but the promise was quite unnecessary, for Mrs. Lynde
was no sooner fairly seated than she said, Marilla, of course. But I'm dreadfully given to doing things without
thinking--everybody who knows me will tell you that. Mr. Shearer took
the cow right away to ship her on the afternoon train." "Twenty dollars," said Anne, who was never meant to match business wits
with a Copp, or she would not have offered her price at the start. Anne hastened to the sitting room closet to get the platter. She had,
in accordance with her promise to Mrs. Lynde, written to Miss Barry of Anne's Carmody purchases when she heard a shrill shriek in the barnyard.
A minute later Anne dashed into the kitchen, wringing her hands. "How can I carry that awful thing out?" moaned Anne with a shudder. The
fire shovel suggested itself to her and she crept down to get it while Anne was charging through the grain like a mad thing. Diana hopped
briskly down, tied the horse securely to a post, turned the skirt of her "Because," explained Gilbert to Anne, as they walked home together
through the Haunted Wood, "the Pyes all live along that road and they
won't give a cent unless one of themselves canvasses them." so she doesn't need us; and I think," concluded Anne, hitting on a very
vital truth, "that we always love best the people who need us. Davy
needs us badly." of grass that had fallen on the carpet from Anne's dress. Anne felt
wretchedly guilty; but Mrs. White subscribed two dollars and paid the Anne did the honors of the table alone for the rest of the meal while
Marilla went upstairs and redressed Dora in her old clothes. Davy was Anne had been down to old Mrs. Irving's on the shore road the preceding
evening and had come home by a short cut which led her first over the Anne, tired as she was, made one more effort for the public weal that
night, slipping over the fields to interview Mr. Harrison, who was as "Then ask her," said Anne promptly. "I'd be very sorry myself to see
Mrs. Rachel go away." Anne did not mention the misfortune which had befallen HER nose when
she related the day's history to Marilla that evening. But she took the
bottle of freckle lotion and emptied it out of the window. Mrs. Lynde rushed in where Anne had feared to tread. Nothing would have
induced the latter to go over to the Harrison place; but she had her
"I suppose Gilbert Blythe is going to college in the fall," said Marilla
jerkily. "How would you like to go too, Anne?"

Anne looked up in astonishment. The last week in August came. Miss Lavendar was to be married in it.
Two weeks later Anne and Gilbert would leave for Redmond College. In a "Well, I should like to see you go to college, Anne; but if you never
do, don't be discontented about it. We make our own lives wherever we "I'm real glad Anne is going to college," said Mrs. Bell. "She has
always wanted it and it will be a splendid thing for her." unexpectedly . . . to the bend in the road; and college was around it,
with a hundred rainbow hopes and visions; but Anne realized as well that "And if she comes," continued Marilla, "You can go to college as well as
not. She'll be company for me and she'll do for the twins what I can't "Teaching is really very interesting work," wrote Anne to a Queen's
Academy chum. "Jane says she thinks it is monotonous but I don't find it Anne hastened to the sitting room closet to get the platter. She had,
in accordance with her promise to Mrs. Lynde, written to Miss Barry of "So you are going away in the fall?" said Miss Lavendar wistfully. "I
ought to be glad for your sake, Anne . . . but I'm horribly, selfishly Anne fully intended to go down to the Dicksons' that evening, but she
did not. When she arrived at Green Gables she found a state of affairs "I was just talking it over with some of the girls and boys at the last
Debating Club," said Anne, flushing. "They thought it would be rather and interests easy. And, Anne, as she talked about it the thought came
to me that I would ask her to come and live with me, but I thought I "Yes, indeed. Priscilla to teach at Carmody! How perfectly lovely!"
exclaimed Anne, her gray eyes lighting up until they looked like evening "When I've finished these exercises I'll run down and chat awhile with
Mrs. Lynde," said Anne. "I had intended to study some Latin composition
tonight but it can wait." waiting for you further on. When I was seventeen, Anne, I didn't think
forty-five would find me a white-haired little old maid with nothing but
dreams to fill my life." "I'll go right over to Spencervale after it tomorrow," said Anne
resolutely, "and you must come with me. It will be such a weight off "I'm nervous about a good many things," said Anne, "but I don't think
there is much fear that I won't be able to talk."

And, to do her justice, there wasn't. He had fallen asleep then, and the next morning, just as the white dawn
was creeping up over the pointed firs in the hollow, Marilla went softly
into the east gable and wakened Anne. "We'd like to stay," said Anne promptly, for she had made up her mind
that she wanted to know more of this surprising Miss Lavendar, "if it "No, indeed," said Anne indignantly. She was an excellent target for
teasing because she always took things so seriously. "I shall never have
Davy and Dora were delighted when they heard that they were to live at
Green Gables, "for good." The death of an uncle whom they had never seen
could not weigh a moment in the balance against that. But Dora had one
misgiving. He had fallen asleep then, and the next morning, just as the white dawn
was creeping up over the pointed firs in the hollow, Marilla went softly
into the east gable and wakened Anne. "They'd better go to bed," said Marilla, who thought it was the easiest
way to dispose of them. "Dora will sleep with me and you can put Davy in "I suppose it is," assented Marilla gloomily. "I daresay I'll tell Mary
I'll take them. You needn't look so delighted, Anne. It will mean a good Anne had come home from school the previous evening, to find Marilla
away at an Aid meeting, Dora asleep on the kitchen sofa, and Davy in Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.

Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the
house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter
at the tea table. Marilla passed her hard work-worn hand over the girl's glossy, tumbled
hair with a wonderful tenderness. When Anne's sobs grew quieter she
said, very gently for her, "I don't see that there is anything else for us to do," said Marilla
rather grimly, although she felt a secret relief. "Anyhow they're not so Anne ran home blithely and recounted her adventures to Marilla, who had
been not a little alarmed by her long absence and was on the point of
starting out to look for her. On the day after Thomas Lynde's funeral Marilla went about Green Gables
with a strangely preoccupied air. Occasionally she looked at Anne, home at Green Gables. She elected to remain in her own house for the
summer, however; the farm was not to be sold until the fall and there
were many arrangements to be made. Anne and Marilla looked fearfully into each other's eyes. The thought
had been with them both through their entire search but neither had
dared to put it into words.

"She . . . she might have," whispered Marilla. Gilbert arrived at Green Gables in the evening and found Marilla and
Anne busily engaged in nailing strips of oilcloth over the broken
windows. Anne did the honors of the table alone for the rest of the meal while
Marilla went upstairs and redressed Dora in her old clothes. Davy was "Davy Keith!" Anne sprang from Davy's clinging arms and flew across the
hall to Marilla's room. The bed was slightly rumpled. She threw back the Anne, who was rather glad that Marilla was not by to be shocked.
Marilla, it is needless to say, was bringing the twins up in the Marilla listened to the whole story, and if she smiled at certain parts
of it Anne never knew. When the tale was ended she said briskly, Davy buried his face in Anne's shoulder and cried stormily. Anne, in a
sudden glad flash of understanding, held him tight and looked over his
curly thatch at Marilla. While Dora proudly shelled the peas and Davy made boats of the pods,
with masts of matches and sails of paper, Anne told Marilla about the
wonderful contents of her letter. Matthew Cuthbert had driven down over the hill with what Mrs. Rachel
called "his imported orphan." But that had been in springtime; and this
Anne, by what somebody has called "a Herculaneum effort," kept back her
tears until she got home that night. Then she shut herself in the east Anne kept her own counsel and Mrs. Harrison never knew that her
gratitude found its way to its object. Anne felt rather bewildered No, Anne was positive it would not do as well. So Davy scrambled out
and knelt down at her knee. When he had finished his devotions he leaned
back on his little, bare, brown heels and looked up at her. "How can I carry that awful thing out?" moaned Anne with a shudder. The
fire shovel suggested itself to her and she crept down to get it while Anne hastened to the sitting room closet to get the platter. She had,
in accordance with her promise to Mrs. Lynde, written to Miss Barry of Anne did the honors of the table alone for the rest of the meal while
Marilla went upstairs and redressed Dora in her old clothes. Davy was Anne, left alone in her glory, worked with a will. The floor was swept,
the beds made, the hens fed, the muslin dress washed and hung out on the Anne did not mention the misfortune which had befallen HER nose when
she related the day's history to Marilla that evening. But she took the
bottle of freckle lotion and emptied it out of the window. the circumstances, and she'll have Anne to help her. Anne's tickled
to death over the whole business, and she has a real knacky way with Anne had her own opinion about that as she hastened into the house to
write a note at Miss Lavendar's desk. Anne went upstairs with Dora and sat by her until she fell asleep. The
next day Mirabel Cotton was kept in at recess and "gently but firmly" Anne knew that she had made herself ridiculous and that the incident
would be laughed over that night at a score of tea-tables, but the with. When he had gone home Anne soothed and warmed the sobbing,
shivering Dora, got her her supper and put her to bed. Then she returned Anne hopped briskly up and went to work. She washed the teapot in
several waters before she put the tea to steep. Then she swept the stove Fortunately for Anne, Marilla called out at this moment from her room.

"Anne, Diana's signaling at a great rate. You'd better see what she
wants." Anne's Carmody purchases when she heard a shrill shriek in the barnyard.
A minute later Anne dashed into the kitchen, wringing her hands. Anne was charging through the grain like a mad thing. Diana hopped
briskly down, tied the horse securely to a post, turned the skirt of her Diana did run. Anne tried to, and the wicked Jersey went around the
field as if she were possessed. Privately, Diana thought she was. It was Anne choked back a mad desire to laugh with the conviction that it would
be fatal, and then earnestly set about saving Marilla's reputation. and look and move like Anne. Charlotta could never flatter herself
that she quite succeeded; but practice makes perfect, as Charlotta had
learned at school, and she fondly hoped that in time she might catch the
"Teaching is really very interesting work," wrote Anne to a Queen's
Academy chum. "Jane says she thinks it is monotonous but I don't find it The day went by like a dream. Anne could never clearly recall it
afterwards. It almost seemed as if it were not she who was teaching School opened and Anne returned to her work, with fewer theories but
considerably more experience. She had several new pupils, six- and "I like teaching, too," said Gilbert. "It's good training, for one
thing. Why, Anne, I've learned more in the weeks I've been teaching the was no real reason for discouragement, since nothing very dreadful had
occurred; but Anne was very tired and inclined to believe that she would
never learn to like teaching. And how terrible it would be to be doing "Yes, indeed. Priscilla to teach at Carmody! How perfectly lovely!"
exclaimed Anne, her gray eyes lighting up until they looked like evening Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.

Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the
house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter
at the tea table. Anne, by what somebody has called "a Herculaneum effort," kept back her
tears until she got home that night. Then she shut herself in the east "You both have the advantage of me," sighed Anne. "You're going to teach
children who don't know you, but I have to teach my own old schoolmates, The last day of school came and went. A triumphant "semi-annual
examination" was held and Anne's pupils acquitted themselves splendidly. Anne had her own opinion about that as she hastened into the house to
write a note at Miss Lavendar's desk. and Mrs. Hiram Sloane called at the school one day and beckoned Anne
mysteriously out into the porch to tell her that if the "Sassiety" The last week in August came. Miss Lavendar was to be married in it.
Two weeks later Anne and Gilbert would leave for Redmond College. In a When school was dismissed and the children had gone Anne dropped wearily
into her chair. Her head ached and she felt woefully discouraged. There that there was much promising material for celebrities in Avonlea
school; but you could never tell what might happen if a teacher used
her influence for good. Anne had certain rose-tinted ideals of what a Tuesday afternoon the Aid Society met at Green Gables. Anne hurried home
from school, for she knew that Marilla would need all the assistance she When Anne reached the school that morning . . . for the first time in her
life she had traversed the Birch Path deaf and blind to its beauties . . . all was quiet and still. The preceding teacher had trained the
children to be in their places at her arrival, and when Anne entered the
schoolroom she was confronted by prim rows of "shining morning faces" Anne hastened to the sitting room closet to get the platter. She had,
in accordance with her promise to Mrs. Lynde, written to Miss Barry of He had fallen asleep then, and the next morning, just as the white dawn
was creeping up over the pointed firs in the hollow, Marilla went softly
into the east gable and wakened Anne.
School opened and Anne returned to her work, with fewer theories but
considerably more experience. She had several new pupils, six- and Anne, by what somebody has called "a Herculaneum effort," kept back her
tears until she got home that night. Then she shut herself in the east "Teaching is really very interesting work," wrote Anne to a Queen's
Academy chum. "Jane says she thinks it is monotonous but I don't find it "I like teaching, too," said Gilbert. "It's good training, for one
thing. Why, Anne, I've learned more in the weeks I've been teaching the own too. With a whole week in which to study Anne constantly she would
surely be able to learn how to move and behave like her. The day went by like a dream. Anne could never clearly recall it
afterwards. It almost seemed as if it were not she who was teaching Anne kept her own counsel and Mrs. Harrison never knew that her
gratitude found its way to its object. Anne felt rather bewildered and look and move like Anne. Charlotta could never flatter herself
that she quite succeeded; but practice makes perfect, as Charlotta had
learned at school, and she fondly hoped that in time she might catch the and interests easy. And, Anne, as she talked about it the thought came
to me that I would ask her to come and live with me, but I thought I youth in her heart and soul, and a girl whose imagination and intuition
supplied the place of experience. Anne had at last discovered a real
"kindred spirit," while into the little lady's lonely, sequestered life Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.

Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the
house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter
at the tea table. through the woods. When Diana could not go Anne went alone. Between
her and Miss Lavendar had sprung up one of those fervent, helpful
friendships possible only between a woman who has kept the freshness of Anne did the honors of the table alone for the rest of the meal while
Marilla went upstairs and redressed Dora in her old clothes. Davy was "When I've finished these exercises I'll run down and chat awhile with
Mrs. Lynde," said Anne. "I had intended to study some Latin composition
tonight but it can wait." "I know all about it," replied Anne promptly. "You see," she explained
hastily, "Miss Lavendar and I are very intimate. She wouldn't tell
things of such a sacred nature to everybody. We are kindred spirits." The last day of school came and went. A triumphant "semi-annual
examination" was held and Anne's pupils acquitted themselves splendidly. Anne leaned back in her chair one mild October evening and sighed. She
was sitting at a table covered with text books and exercises, but the
closely written sheets of paper before her had no apparent connection
with studies or school work. The last week in August came. Miss Lavendar was to be married in it.
Two weeks later Anne and Gilbert would leave for Redmond College. In a Accordingly, a month later Anne and Paul walked through the woods to
the stone house, and met Miss Lavendar in the lane. She had not been
expecting them just then and she turned very pale. "He was much pleased," said Anne brightly. "He says there is a great
improvement in them and he thinks the danger of her losing her sight
School opened and Anne returned to her work, with fewer theories but
considerably more experience. She had several new pupils, six- and "I suppose Gilbert Blythe is going to college in the fall," said Marilla
jerkily. "How would you like to go too, Anne?"

Anne looked up in astonishment. Anne, by what somebody has called "a Herculaneum effort," kept back her
tears until she got home that night. Then she shut herself in the east The last week in August came. Miss Lavendar was to be married in it.
Two weeks later Anne and Gilbert would leave for Redmond College. In a "Teaching is really very interesting work," wrote Anne to a Queen's
Academy chum. "Jane says she thinks it is monotonous but I don't find it and look and move like Anne. Charlotta could never flatter herself
that she quite succeeded; but practice makes perfect, as Charlotta had
learned at school, and she fondly hoped that in time she might catch the Anne kept her own counsel and Mrs. Harrison never knew that her
gratitude found its way to its object. Anne felt rather bewildered Back in the schoolroom Anne was sitting alone at her desk, as she had
sat on the first day of school two years before, her face leaning on her The day went by like a dream. Anne could never clearly recall it
afterwards. It almost seemed as if it were not she who was teaching The last day of school came and went. A triumphant "semi-annual
examination" was held and Anne's pupils acquitted themselves splendidly. Anne did the honors of the table alone for the rest of the meal while
Marilla went upstairs and redressed Dora in her old clothes. Davy was "You'll laugh when you hear this," assured Anne. And Marilla did laugh,
which showed how much her education had advanced since the adoption of
Anne. But she sighed immediately afterwards. He had fallen asleep then, and the next morning, just as the white dawn
was creeping up over the pointed firs in the hollow, Marilla went softly
into the east gable and wakened Anne. "When I've finished these exercises I'll run down and chat awhile with
Mrs. Lynde," said Anne. "I had intended to study some Latin composition
tonight but it can wait." Anne had her own opinion about that as she hastened into the house to
write a note at Miss Lavendar's desk. When Anne reached the school that morning . . . for the first time in her
life she had traversed the Birch Path deaf and blind to its beauties . . . "I like teaching, too," said Gilbert. "It's good training, for one
thing. Why, Anne, I've learned more in the weeks I've been teaching the through the woods. When Diana could not go Anne went alone. Between
her and Miss Lavendar had sprung up one of those fervent, helpful
friendships possible only between a woman who has kept the freshness of own too. With a whole week in which to study Anne constantly she would
surely be able to learn how to move and behave like her. Two hours later Anne and Charlotta the Fourth came down the lane again.
Gilbert had gone to West Grafton on an errand and Diana had to keep an
"I like teaching, too," said Gilbert. "It's good training, for one
thing. Why, Anne, I've learned more in the weeks I've been teaching the Gilbert had finally made up his mind that he was going to be a doctor. sudden realization that Gilbert was a schoolboy no longer. And how manly
he looked--the tall, frank-faced fellow, with the clear, straightforward
eyes and the broad shoulders. Anne thought Gilbert was a very handsome Gilbert and Anne looked at each other and smiled rather foolishly. Once
upon a time, Anne had been made to sit with Gilbert for punishment and
sad and bitter had been the consequences thereof. the Improvement Society. Gilbert Blythe, who was to teach in White
Sands but would always be home from Friday night to Monday morning, was Gilbert stretched himself out on the ferns beside the Bubble and looked
approvingly at Anne. If Gilbert had been asked to describe his ideal home with her; at the fence they met Gilbert, and all three were now
talking about the fateful morrow; for that morrow was the first of
September and the schools would open. Jane would go to Newbridge and "Because," explained Gilbert to Anne, as they walked home together
through the Haunted Wood, "the Pyes all live along that road and they
won't give a cent unless one of themselves canvasses them." "What is the matter?" asked Gilbert, who had arrived at the open kitchen
door just in time to hear the sigh.

Anne colored, and thrust her writing out of sight under some school
compositions. Gilbert Blythe was probably the only person to whom the news of Anne's
resignation brought unmixed pleasure. Her pupils looked upon it as Gilbert, having tried to please both sides, succeeded, as is usual and
eminently right, in pleasing neither. Jane tossed her head. "Well," said Gilbert slowly, torn between his real convictions and his
wish to measure up to Anne's ideal, "there's something to be said on The mention of college gave a new direction to Gilbert's thoughts, and
they talked for a time of their plans and wishes . . . gravely, earnestly, Gilbert wisely said nothing more; but in his silence he read the history
of the next four years in the light of Anne's remembered blush. Four "I think you're fulfilling that ambition every day," said Gilbert
admiringly. "I suppose Gilbert Blythe is going to college in the fall," said Marilla
jerkily. "How would you like to go too, Anne?"

Anne looked up in astonishment. Finally Gilbert rose regretfully. Two hours later Anne and Charlotta the Fourth came down the lane again.
Gilbert had gone to West Grafton on an errand and Diana had to keep an The last week in August came. Miss Lavendar was to be married in it.
Two weeks later Anne and Gilbert would leave for Redmond College. In a Mrs. Lynde drove home, meeting several people on the road and stopping
to tell them about the hall. The news flew like wildfire. Gilbert
Accordingly, a month later Anne and Paul walked through the woods to
the stone house, and met Miss Lavendar in the lane. She had not been
expecting them just then and she turned very pale. Anne had been down to old Mrs. Irving's on the shore road the preceding
evening and had come home by a short cut which led her first over the till she was safely in her own white room at home. Before she could
decide there was a click of heels and a silken swish on the porch floor,
and Anne found herself confronted by a lady whose appearance made her Anne, however, was beginning to like the queer, fussy, fidgety little
man, and before the meal was over they were quite good friends. Mr. "Is this where Mr. James A. Harrison lives?" she inquired briskly.

"No, Mr. Harrison lives over there," said Anne, quite lost in
astonishment. with all my new neighbors just as soon as possible. Mrs. Lynde is a
lovely woman, isn't she? So friendly." Anne was sitting on the porch steps when Stephen Irving came down the
lane and across the garden. Anne, who was perched on the edge of the veranda, enjoying the charm
of a mild west wind blowing across a newly ploughed field on a gray When Anne and Paul reached the stone house that afternoon they found
Miss Lavendar and Charlotta the Fourth in the garden, weeding, raking, at him in some bewilderment. Mr. Harrison was their new righthand
neighbor and she had never met him before, although she had seen him
once or twice. In early April, before Anne had come home from Queen's, Mr. Robert Bell,
whose farm adjoined the Cuthbert place on the west, had sold out and Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.

Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the
house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter
at the tea table. Mrs. Lynde rushed in where Anne had feared to tread. Nothing would have
induced the latter to go over to the Harrison place; but she had her He had fallen asleep then, and the next morning, just as the white dawn
was creeping up over the pointed firs in the hollow, Marilla went softly
into the east gable and wakened Anne. Anne, by what somebody has called "a Herculaneum effort," kept back her
tears until she got home that night. Then she shut herself in the east Two hours later Anne and Charlotta the Fourth came down the lane again.
Gilbert had gone to West Grafton on an errand and Diana had to keep an Anne went upstairs with Dora and sat by her until she fell asleep. The
next day Mirabel Cotton was kept in at recess and "gently but firmly" Then the veil dropped again; but the Anne who walked up the dark lane
was not quite the same Anne who had driven gaily down it the evening up," laughed Diana. "I begin to see what you mean by educating public
sentiment, Anne. There's the old Boulter house now. Did you ever see "We'd like to stay," said Anne promptly, for she had made up her mind
that she wanted to know more of this surprising Miss Lavendar, "if it
"Davy?" But Anne could say no more. She carried Dora home with a heavy
heart. Her joy at finding the child safe and sound was drowned out in Davy's method of "livening up" was to grasp Dora's curls in his fingers
and give them a tug. Dora shrieked and then cried. The twins were not noticeably alike, although both were fair. Dora had
long sleek curls that never got out of order. Davy had a crop of fuzzy "Davy and I came over to see Ginger," sobbed Dora, "but we couldn't see
him after all, only Davy made him swear by kicking the door. And then Davy and Dora were delighted when they heard that they were to live at
Green Gables, "for good." The death of an uncle whom they had never seen
could not weigh a moment in the balance against that. But Dora had one
misgiving. and no Dora to be seen. Davy declares he never saw her since I left." Mary said Dora was really a very good child but that Davy was full of
mischief. He has never had any bringing up you might say. His father the pain caused by Davy's behavior. The freak of shutting Dora up might
easily have been pardoned. But Davy had told falsehoods . . . downright "Anne, Dora is lost!"

"Dora! Lost!" Anne looked at Davy, who was swinging on the yard gate,
and detected merriment in his eyes. "Davy, do you know where she is?" "But maybe you never asked anybody to have you," protested Davy.

"Oh, Davy," said Dora primly, shocked into speaking without being spoken
to, "it's the MEN that have to do the asking." Davy winked at Anne, and then, leaning over the table, snatched Dora's
first piece of cake, from which she had just taken one dainty little Lauretta White was sitting in front of Davy, her head slightly bent
and her fair hair hanging in two long braids, between which a tempting seven-year-olds just venturing, round-eyed, into a world of wonder.
Among them were Davy and Dora. Davy sat with Milty Boulter, who had been Davy was aghast. Anne crying . . . he had made Anne cry! A flood of real
remorse rolled like a wave over his warm little heart and engulfed it. "You do spoil that boy dreadfully," said Marilla, when Davy, with a
radiant face, had followed prim Dora out. Marilla's education had made "Why, Davy Keith," she said solemnly, "something dreadful HAS happened
to you this very day."

Davy looked sceptical. "They'd better go to bed," said Marilla, who thought it was the easiest
way to dispose of them. "Dora will sleep with me and you can put Davy in "How could you behave so, Davy?" she asked sorrowfully.

Davy squirmed uncomfortably. Davy screwed his eyes tight shut and seemed to meditate on this for a
time. Then he crawled up and put his arms about Anne's neck, snuggling
his flushed little face down on her shoulder. carried Davy away, her oval girlish cheek pressed against his curly
yellow head. As they went up the stairs Davy flung a tired arm about
At this point Mr. Harrison arose and, with an expression that would have
struck terror into any bird but a parrot, carried Ginger's cage into an "Don't you mind that parrot," said Mr. Harrison, casting a furious
glance at Ginger. "He's . . . he's always talking nonsense. I got him Finally, Mr. Harrison kept a parrot called Ginger. Nobody in Avonlea had
ever kept a parrot before; consequently that proceeding was considered Harrison's? She has always been talking about his parrot ever since that
time you took her over." care about except a parrot, don't you think? But I notice Mr. Harrison
doesn't like to be pitied. Nobody does, I imagine." "He's a limb," declared Mr. Harrison. "He came over here yesterday and
pulled six feathers out of Ginger's tail before I could get in from the animal was kept within safe bounds. Even Mr. Harrison chuckled, if he
chuckled at all, in private, and was all sympathy outwardly. Mr. Harrison's house was an old-fashioned, low-eaved, whitewashed
structure, set against a thick spruce grove. "Excuse me and go on," said Mr. Harrison, sitting down again. "My
brother the sailor never taught that bird any manners." Mr. Harrison himself was sitting on his vineshaded veranda, in his shirt
sleeves, enjoying his evening pipe. When he realized who was coming up "He's peculiar enough all right then," said Mr. Harrison drily. "Or at
least, folks here will call him so. I never was much of a talker till Mr. Harrison was smoking on his veranda. His wife had self-sacrificingly
told that he might smoke in the house if he took care to sit by an Mr. Harrison did his best to speak dolefully, but an irrepressible
twinkle in his eye betrayed him. Mr. Harrison had brought Ginger back, averring that the poor bird would
be lonesome; and Anne, feeling that she could forgive everybody and As soon as they were comfortably seated on the veranda Mr. Harrison
began his tale of woe. Mr. Harrison said, "Thought you'd come to it," when he heard it, and
Jane rubbed it in rather unmercifully.




XIII All at once Mr. Harrison found his voice. "Bless my soul," exclaimed Mr. Harrison, in blank amazement at this
unlooked-for conclusion. "What a VERY extraordinary thing!" in the sunlight. By the table sat Mr. Harrison in his working clothes,
which on Friday had been noted for sundry rents and tatters but which growled Mr. Harrison. "And as for understanding her, I understand that
she is a confirmed busybody and I told her so."
"Hasn't that Paul Irving grown to be a big boy?" said Mrs. Andrews. "He
was such a mite for his age when he came here. I declare I hardly knew Paul Irving would have known the meaning of this, or made a meaning out
of it for himself, if he didn't; but practical Davy, who, as Anne When Paul had scampered away to do his "daily duty" Mr. Irving talked to
Anne of various matters. But Anne felt that he was thinking of something
else underneath all the time. Presently it came to the surface. "Paul Irving washes his face every day of his own accord," said Anne
astutely. tear ourselves away,' as Paul Irving says every time he comes to Green
Gables." the evening she went down to the shore road to see Paul Irving. As she
passed by the low, square window of the Irving sitting room she caught Boston and live with them . . . and me only fifteen, and the other girls
never went till they were sixteen. Ain't Mr. Irving splendid? He "With a hug like a bear's," said Mr. Irving, putting his arms around
Paul's shoulder smilingly. "I hardly knew my boy, he had grown so big
and brown and sturdy." "'Your loving pupil Paul Irving.'

"'P. S. of course, this letter isn't really true, teacher. P.I.'"




XII In the afternoon Anne walked down to the old Irving place to see Paul.
She found him stretched out on the grassy bank beside the thick fir Stephen Irving came forward to meet Anne with a smile. He was a tall,
handsome man of middle age, with iron-gray hair, deep-set, dark blue "He is a little pupil of mine," she explained slowly. "He came from
Boston last year to live with his grandmother, Mrs. Irving of the shore
road." "I don't like Paul Irving BETTER," said Anne seriously. "I like you just
as well, only in a different way."

"But I want you to like me the same way," pouted Davy. Paul Irving. The first two hymns and the Scripture reading passed off
uneventfully. Mr. Allan was praying when the sensation came. expect trouble, that's what. And you'll have another strange pupil, too.
Paul Irving is coming from the States to live with his grandmother. "I s'pose," he said reflectively, "that Paul Irving wouldn't have
dropped a caterpillar down a girl's neck in church, would he?"

"Indeed he wouldn't," said Anne sadly. matter how good I am you'd like Paul Irving better. So I might as well
be bad and have the fun of it." Everybody concerned in Miss Lavendar's story was very happy. Paul Irving
rushed to Green Gables to talk the news over with Anne as soon as his
father had told him. "So this is my little son's 'beautiful teacher,' of whom I have heard
so much," said Mr. Irving with a hearty handshake. "Paul's letters have "I'm afraid he came long ago and went away again," said Diana. "They say
she used to be engaged to Stephan Irving . . . Paul's father . . . when
they were young. But they quarreled and parted."
"Mary? None in the world. It was her husband . . . he was our third
cousin. There's Mrs. Lynde coming through the yard. I thought she'd be
up to hear about Mary." "There's Marilla getting home from the funeral," she said to her
husband, who was lying on the kitchen lounge. Thomas Lynde lay more on Friday afternoon he finished his job and went home to Carmody. Soon
after his departure Mrs. Rachel Lynde drove by, having braved the mud of Mrs. Lynde rushed in where Anne had feared to tread. Nothing would have
induced the latter to go over to the Harrison place; but she had her with all my new neighbors just as soon as possible. Mrs. Lynde is a
lovely woman, isn't she? So friendly." "Well, we soon will. I'm going straight over there," said Mrs. Lynde,
who had never learned that there was such a word as delicacy in the anything about her. And now everything has come right. And I had a
hand in bringing it about. Perhaps, as Mrs. Lynde says, everything is Emily and me. To be sure, Mrs. Lynde'll be over there in your place.
There ain't nobody but a substitute can be found for them." "So is Mrs. Lynde," said Anne, before she could prevent herself. Mrs. Lynde drove home, meeting several people on the road and stopping
to tell them about the hall. The news flew like wildfire. Gilbert Thomas Lynde faded out of life as quietly and unobtrusively as he had
lived it. His wife was a tender, patient, unwearied nurse. Sometimes "Anne, Thomas Lynde is gone . . . their hired boy just brought the word.
I'm going right down to Rachel." week's time Mrs. Rachel Lynde would move to Green Gables and set up
her lares and penates in the erstwhile spare room, which was already "I met Mrs. Lynde and some strange woman in the Hollow," he said, "and
gracious, how they were talking both at once! Mrs. Lynde said to tell They found out what Mrs. Lynde had to say when she came up that evening.
Mrs. Lynde wasn't surprised! Mrs. Lynde had always expected something Anne, walking home from the post office one Friday evening, was joined
by Mrs. Lynde, who was as usual cumbered with all the cares of church
and state. Mrs. Lynde was in the Green Gables kitchen. She had been telling the
whole story to Marilla.

"Well, and how do you like Mrs. Harrison?" she asked Anne. Mrs. Rachel Lynde was sitting at her kitchen window, knitting a quilt,
just as she had been sitting one evening several years previously when Marilla had gone down to Mrs. Lynde's, and when she returned knew all
about Dolly's sale and transfer, for Mrs. Lynde had seen most of the
transaction from her window and guessed the rest. lived in it for four years. She never went out much and hardly anybody
went to see her except mother and Mrs. Lynde. Jordan made her this
What is Anne's job? Whose cow did Anne sell? What can Anne do once Mrs. Lynde moves in with Marilla? What type of pet does Mr. Harrison have? What is the name of the school where Anne teaches? With whom does Paul live? What color was the town hall painted? Who does Mr. Irving marry? What are the twins' names? What profession does Anne have as a teenager? Where does Anne teach? Why does Anne agree to take care of the twins Davy and Dora? Why is Anne relieved when the twins uncle dies? Who is Paul Irving? What do Anne and her friends create? What happens to the Old Town Hall? Why does Anne sell her neighbors cow? Where does Anne plan on attending college? Who moves in with Marilla at Green Gables? What does Anne do? Where does Anne teach? Who does Anne continue her studies with? Where does Anne continue her studies? Where is Gilbert teaching? Who is Anne's new neighbor? How are Davy and Dora related? How is Mr. Harrison's parrot described? Who is Paul Irving living with? Who does Mrs. Lynde move in with after her husband dies?
Teacher a teacher
Her neighbor's her neighbor
Go to college go to college
parrot A parrot
Avonlea Avonlea
His grandmother his grandmother
Blue Bright Blue
Miss Lavendar Miss Lavendar
Davy and Dora Davy and Dora
A teacher. teacher
The Avonlea school. avonlea school
Their mother died and their uncle is out of town. their mother died
She will get to continue to take care of Davy and Dora. So the twins could stay
one of Anne's students. Annes's student
A.V.I.S. (Avonlea Village Improvement Society) The Avonlea Village Improvement Society
It is painted the wrong color. gets painted wrong color now a bright blue eyesore
Anne believed it was her cow. she thought it was her own
Redmond College Redmond College
Mrs. Lynde The children of Marilla's third cousin.
teaches She teaches at Avonlea School
Avonlea school Avonlea School
Gilbert Gilbert
home Redmond College
White Sands School White Sands School
Mr. Harrison Mr Harrison
they are twins siblings
foul-mouthed Foul-mouthed
his grandmother his grandmother
Marilla marilla