Anne Of Avonlea (Bedtime Story) Part 2

Chapter 2 Selling in Haste And repenting at leisure,

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 the Improvement Society,

And the two girls talked about little else all the way to Carmody and back.

The very first thing we ought to do when we get started is to have that all painted,

Said Diana,

As they drove past the Avonlea Hall,

A rather shabby building set down in a wooded hall,

Spruce trees hooting it about on all sides.

It is a disgraceful looking place,

And we must attend to it even before we try to get Mr.

Levi Boulder to pull his lounge down.

Boulder says we'll never succeed in doing that.

Perhaps he'll let the boys take it down if they promise to haul the boards and split them up for him for kindling wood,

Said Anne hopefully.

We must do our best,

And to be content to go slowly at first.

We cannot expect to improve everything all at once.

We'll have to educate the public sentiment first,

Of course.

Diana wasn't exactly sure what that educating public sentiment meant,

But it sounded fine,

And she felt rather proud that she was going to belong to a society with such an aim in view.

I thought of something last night that we could do,

Anne.

You know the three-cornered piece of ground where the roads from Carmody to Newbridge and White Sands meet.

It is all grown over with young spruce,

But wouldn't it be nice to have them all cleared out and just leave three birch trees that are on it?

Splendid,

Agreed Anne gaily,

And have a rustic seed put under the birches,

And when spring comes we'll have a flowerbed made in the middle of it and plant geraniums.

Yes,

Only we'll have to devise some way of getting old Mrs.

Hiram's loan to keep her cow off the road,

Or she'll eat our geraniums up,

Laughed Diana.

I begin to see what you mean by educating public sentiment,

Anne.

There's the old boulder house now.

Did you ever see such a rookery,

And a perch right close to the road,

Too?

An old house with its windows gone always makes me think of something dead,

Its eyes picked out.

I think an old deserted house is such a sad sight,

Said Anne dreamily.

It always seems to me to be something about its past,

And mourning for its old-time joys.

Marilla says that a large family was raised in that old house long ago,

And that it was a real pretty place,

With the 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 ever wanders through it but the wind.

How lonely and sorrowful it must feel.

Perhaps they all come back on moonlight nights,

The ghosts of the little children of long ago,

The roses and the songs,

And for a little while the old house can dream it is young and joyous again.

Diana shook her head.

I never imagined things like that about places now,

Anne.

Don't you remember how cross Mutter and Marilla were when we imagined ghosts into the haunted wood?

To this day I cannot go through that bush comfortably after dark,

And if I began imagining such things about the old boulder house I'd be frightened to pass it too.

Besides,

Those children aren't dead,

They're all grown up and doing well,

And one of them is a butcher,

And flowers and songs couldn't have ghosts,

Anyhow.

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 into the realm of fancy she must go alone.

The way to it was by an enchanted path where not even her dearest friend might follow her.

A thunder shower came up while the girls were at comedy.

It did not last long,

However,

And the drive home,

Two lanes where the raindrops sparkled,

And the boughs and little leafy valleys with trenched ferns gave out spicy odors,

Was delightful.

But just as they turned into the cupboard lane,

Anne saw something that spoilt the beauty of the landscape for her.

Before them,

On the right extended,

Mr.

Harrington's broad grey-green field of the late oats,

Wet and luxuriant,

And there,

Standing squarely in the middle of it,

Up to her sleek sides in the lush grout and flanking at them calmly over the intervening tassels,

Was a jersey cow.

Anne dropped the reins and stood up with tightening of the lips that boded no good to the predatory creeper.

Another word said she,

But she climbed mimely down over the wheels and whisked across the fence before Diana understood what had happened.

''Anne,

Come back!

'' shrieked the latter as soon as she found her voice.

''You will ruin your dress in that wet grain.

She doesn't hear me.

Well,

She'll never get that cow out by herself.

I must go and help her,

Of course.

'' 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 pretty gingham dress over her shoulders,

Mounted the fence and started in pursuit of her frantic friend.

She could run faster than Anne,

Was hampered by her clinging,

Trenched skirt,

And soon overtook her.

Behind them they left a trail that would break Mr.

Harrison's heart when he should see it.

''Anne,

For mercy's sake,

Stop!

'' panted poor Diana.

''I am right out of bread,

And you are wet to the skin.

I must get that cow.

I must get that cow out before Mr.

Harrison sees her,

'' gasped Anne.

''I don't care if I am drowned.

We can only do that,

'' but the Jersey cow appeared to see no good reason for being hustled out for luscious browsing ground.

No sooner had the two breathless girls got near her than she turned and bolted squarely for the opposite corner of the field.

''Head her off!

'' screamed Anne.

''Run,

Diana,

Run!

'' Diana did run.

Anne tried to.

The wicked Jersey went around the field as if she were possessed.

Privately Diana thought she was.

It was fully ten minutes before they headed her off and drove her through the corner gap into the catbird lane.

There's no denying that Anne was in anything but an angelic temper at that precise moment.

Nor did it suit her in the least to behold a buggy halted just outside the lane where sat Mr.

Shearer,

Carmody and his son,

Both of whom were a broad smile.

''I guess it better have sold me that cow when I wanted to buy her last week,

Anne,

'' chuckled Mr.

Shearer.

''I'll sell her to you now if you want her,

'' said her flushed and dishevelled owner.

''You may have her this very minute.

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.

'' Ten 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.

''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.

Harrison sees that grain,

He will know she has been in again,

And after my giving him my word of honour that I'd never let it happen.

Well,

It has taught me a lesson not to give my word of honour about cows.

A cow that could jump over or break through our milkman fence couldn't be trusted anywhere.

'' Marilla had gone down to Mrs.

Lint's,

And when she returned knew all about Dolly's sale and transfer,

For Mrs.

Lint had seen most of the transaction from her window and guessed the rest.

''I suppose it is just a spell she's got,

Though you do do things in dreadful headlong fashion,

Anne.

I don't see how she got out of the pen,

Though.

She must have broken some of the boards off.

'' ''I didn't think of looking,

'' said Anne,

''but I will go and see now.

Martin has never come back yet.

Perhaps some more of his ants have died.

I think it's something like Mr.

Peter Sloan and the Octogenarians.

The other evening Mrs.

Sloan was reading a newspaper,

And she said to Mr.

Sloan,

''I see here that another Octogenarian has just died.

What is an Octogenarian,

Peter?

'' And Mr.

Sloan said,

''He didn't know,

But they must be very slicky creatures,

For you never heard tell of them,

But they were dying.

What is the way with Martin's ants?

'' Marilla was looking over Anne's comedy purchases,

When she heard a shrill shriek in the barnyard.

A minute later Anne dashed into the kitchen,

Wringing her hands.

''Anne Shirley,

What is the matter now?

'' ''Oh,

Marilla,

Whatever shall I do?

This is terrible,

And it is all my fault,

Or I will never learn to stop and reflect a little before doing reckless things.

Mrs.

Lind always told me I would do something dreadful some day,

And now I have done it.

'' ''Anne,

You are the most exasperating girl.

What it is that you have done?

Sold in Mr.

Harrison's jersey cow,

The one he bought from Mr.

Bell,

To Mr.

Shear,

Dolly is out in the milking van this very minute.

Anne Shirley,

Are you dreaming?

'' ''I only wish I were.

There is no dream about it,

Though it's very likely like a nightmare,

And Mr.

Harrison's cow is in Charlottetown by this time.

Oh,

Marilla,

I thought I'd finished getting into scrapes,

And here I am in the very worst one I ever was in my life.

What can I do?

'' ''Do?

There's nothing to do,

Child,

Except go and see Mr.

Harrison about it.

We can offer him our jersey in exchange,

If he doesn't want to take the money.

She is just as good as his.

I'm sure he'll be awfully cross and disagreeable about it,

Though,

'' moaned Anne.

''I dare say he will.

He seems to be an irritable sort of man.

I'll go and explain to him.

'' ''No,

Indeed.

I am not as mean as that,

'' slamed Anne.

''This is all my fault,

And I am certainly not going to let you take my punishment.

I'll go myself,

And I'll go at once.

The sooner it is over,

The better,

For it will be terribly humiliating.

'' Poor Anne got her hat and her twenty dollars,

And was passing out when she happened to glance through the open pantry door.

On the table reposed a nut-cake which she had baked that morning.

Very toothsome concoction,

Iced with pink icing,

And adorned with walnuts.

Anne had intended it for Friday evening,

When the youth of Avonlea were to meet Green Gables to organize the Improvement Society,

But what were they compared to the justly offended Mr.

Harrison?

Anne thought that cake ought to soften the heart of any man,

Especially one who had to do his own cooking,

And she promptly popped it into a box.

She would take it to Mr.

Harrison as a peace offering,

That is,

If he gives me a chance to say anything at all,

She thought ruefully,

As she climbed the lane fence and started on a short cut across the fields,

Golden in the light of the dreamy August evening.

I know now just how people feel who are being led to execution.