Anne of Green Gables
Marilla pessimistically expected more trouble since Anne had again begun
to go to school. But none developed. Perhaps Anne caught something of
the “model” spirit from Minnie Andrews; at least she got on very well
with Mr. Phillips thenceforth. She flung herself into her studies heart
and soul, determined not to be outdone in any class by Gilbert Blythe.
The rivalry between them was soon apparent; it was entirely good natured
on Gilbert’s side; but it is much to be feared that the same thing
cannot be said of Anne, who had certainly an unpraiseworthy tenacity for
holding grudges. She was as intense in her hatreds as in her loves. She
would not stoop to admit that she meant to rival Gilbert in schoolwork,
because that would have been to acknowledge his existence which Anne
persistently ignored; but the rivalry was there and honors fluctuated
between them. Now Gilbert was head of the spelling class; now Anne, with
a toss of her long red braids, spelled him down. One morning Gilbert had
all his sums done correctly and had his name written on the blackboard
on the roll of honor; the next morning Anne, having wrestled wildly with
decimals the entire evening before, would be first. One awful day they
were ties and their names were written up together. It was almost as bad
as a take-notice and Anne’s mortification was as evident as Gilbert’s
satisfaction. When the written examinations at the end of each month
were held the suspense was terrible. The first month Gilbert came out
three marks ahead. The second Anne beat him by five. But her triumph was
marred by the fact that Gilbert congratulated her heartily before the
whole school. It would have been ever so much sweeter to her if he had
felt the sting of his defeat.
Mr. Phillips might not be a very good teacher; but a pupil so inflexibly
determined on learning as Anne was could hardly escape making progress
under any kind of teacher. By the end of the term Anne and Gilbert were
both promoted into the fifth class and allowed to begin studying the
elements of “the branches”--by which Latin, geometry, French, and
algebra were meant. In geometry Anne met her Waterloo.
“It’s perfectly awful stuff, Marilla,” she groaned. “I’m sure I’ll never
be able to make head or tail of it. There is no scope for imagination in
it at all. Mr. Phillips says I’m the worst dunce he ever saw at it.
And Gil--I mean some of the others are so smart at it. It is extremely
mortifying, Marilla.
“Even Diana gets along better than I do. But I don’t mind being beaten
by Diana. Even although we meet as strangers now I still love her with
an _inextinguishable_ love. It makes me very sad at times to think about
her. But really, Marilla, one can’t stay sad very long in such an
interesting world, can one?”
CHAPTER XVIII. Anne to the Rescue
ALL things great are wound up with all things little. At first glance
it might not seem that the decision of a certain Canadian Premier to
include Prince Edward Island in a political tour could have much or
anything to do with the fortunes of little Anne Shirley at Green Gables.
But it had.
It was a January the Premier came, to address his loyal supporters and
such of his nonsupporters as chose to be present at the monster mass
meeting held in Charlottetown. Most of the Avonlea people were on
Premier’s side of politics; hence on the night of the meeting nearly
all the men and a goodly proportion of the women had gone to town thirty
miles away. Mrs. Rachel Lynde had gone too. Mrs. Rachel Lynde was a
red-hot politician and couldn’t have believed that the political rally
could be carried through without her, although she was on the opposite
side of politics. So she went to town and took her husband--Thomas would
be useful in looking after the horse--and Marilla Cuthbert with her.
Marilla had a sneaking interest in politics herself, and as she thought
it might be her only chance to see a real live Premier, she promptly
took it, leaving Anne and Matthew to keep house until her return the
following day.
Hence, while Marilla and Mrs. Rachel were enjoying themselves hugely
at the mass meeting, Anne and Matthew had the cheerful kitchen at Green
Gables all to themselves. A bright fire was glowing in the old-fashioned
Waterloo stove and blue-white frost crystals were shining on the
windowpanes. Matthew nodded over a _Farmers’ Advocate_ on the sofa and
Anne at the table studied her lessons with grim determination, despite
sundry wistful glances at the clock shelf, where lay a new book that
Jane Andrews had lent her that day. Jane had assured her that it was
warranted to produce any number of thrills, or words to that effect, and
Anne’s fingers tingled to reach out for it. But that would mean Gilbert
Blythe’s triumph on the morrow. Anne turned her back on the clock shelf
and tried to imagine it wasn’t there.
“Matthew, did you ever study geometry when you went to school?”
“Well now, no, I didn’t,” said Matthew, coming out of his doze with a
start.
“I wish you had,” sighed Anne, “because then you’d be able to sympathize
with me. You can’t sympathize properly if you’ve never studied it. It is
casting a cloud over my whole life. I’m such a dunce at it, Matthew.”
“Well now, I dunno,” said Matthew soothingly. “I guess you’re all right
at anything. Mr. Phillips told me last week in Blair’s store at Carmody
that you was the smartest scholar in school and was making rapid
progress. ‘Rapid progress’ was his very words. There’s them as runs down
Teddy Phillips and says he ain’t much of a teacher, but I guess he’s all
right.”
Matthew would have thought anyone who praised Anne was “all right.”
“I’m sure I’d get on better with geometry if only he wouldn’t change
the letters,” complained Anne. “I learn the proposition off by heart and
then he draws it on the blackboard and puts different letters from what
are in the book and I get all mixed up. I don’t think a teacher should
take such a mean advantage, do you? We’re studying agriculture now and
I’ve found out at last what makes the roads red. It’s a great comfort.
I wonder how Marilla and Mrs. Lynde are enjoying themselves. Mrs. Lynde
says Canada is going to the dogs the way things are being run at Ottawa
and that it’s an awful warning to the electors. She says if women were
allowed to vote we would soon see a blessed change. What way do you
vote, Matthew?”
“Conservative,” said Matthew promptly. To vote Conservative was part of
Matthew’s religion.
“Then I’m Conservative too,” said Anne decidedly. “I’m glad because
Gil--because some of the boys in school are Grits. I guess Mr. Phillips
is a Grit too because Prissy Andrews’s father is one, and Ruby Gillis
says that when a man is courting he always has to agree with the girl’s
mother in religion and her father in politics. Is that true, Matthew?”
“Well now, I dunno,” said Matthew.
“Did you ever go courting, Matthew?”
“Well now, no, I dunno’s I ever did,” said Matthew, who had certainly
never thought of such a thing in his whole existence.
Anne reflected with her chin in her hands.
“It must be rather interesting, don’t you think, Matthew? Ruby Gillis
says when she grows up she’s going to have ever so many beaus on the
string and have them all crazy about her; but I think that would be too
exciting. I’d rather have just one in his right mind. But Ruby Gillis
knows a great deal about such matters because she has so many big
sisters, and Mrs. Lynde says the Gillis girls have gone off like hot
cakes. Mr. Phillips goes up to see Prissy Andrews nearly every evening.
He says it is to help her with her lessons but Miranda Sloane is
studying for Queen’s too, and I should think she needed help a lot more
than Prissy because she’s ever so much stupider, but he never goes to
help her in the evenings at all. There are a great many things in this
world that I can’t understand very well, Matthew.”
“Well now, I dunno as I comprehend them all myself,” acknowledged
Matthew.
“Well, I suppose I must finish up my lessons. I won’t allow myself to
open that new book Jane lent me until I’m through. But it’s a terrible
temptation, Matthew. Even when I turn my back on it I can see it there
just as plain. Jane said she cried herself sick over it. I love a book
that makes me cry. But I think I’ll carry that book into the sitting
room and lock it in the jam closet and give you the key. And you must
_not_ give it to me, Matthew, until my lessons are done, not even if
I implore you on my bended knees. It’s all very well to say resist
temptation, but it’s ever so much easier to resist it if you can’t get
the key. And then shall I run down the cellar and get some russets,
Matthew? Wouldn’t you like some russets?”
“Well now, I dunno but what I would,” said Matthew, who never ate
russets but knew Anne’s weakness for them.
Just as Anne emerged triumphantly from the cellar with her plateful of
russets came the sound of flying footsteps on the icy board walk outside
and the next moment the kitchen door was flung open and in rushed Diana
Barry, white faced and breathless, with a shawl wrapped hastily around
her head. Anne promptly let go of her candle and plate in her surprise,
and plate, candle, and apples crashed together down the cellar ladder
and were found at the bottom embedded in melted grease, the next day,
by Marilla, who gathered them up and thanked mercy the house hadn’t been
set on fire.
“Whatever is the matter, Diana?” cried Anne. “Has your mother relented
at last?”
“Oh, Anne, do come quick,” implored Diana nervously. “Minnie May is
awful sick--she’s got croup. Young Mary Joe says--and Father and Mother
are away to town and there’s nobody to go for the doctor. Minnie May is
awful bad and Young Mary Joe doesn’t know what to do--and oh, Anne, I’m
so scared!”
Matthew, without a word, reached out for cap and coat, slipped past
Diana and away into the darkness of the yard.
“He’s gone to harness the sorrel mare to go to Carmody for the doctor,”
said Anne, who was hurrying on hood and jacket. “I know it as well as
if he’d said so. Matthew and I are such kindred spirits I can read his
thoughts without words at all.”
“I don’t believe he’ll find the doctor at Carmody,” sobbed Diana. “I
know that Dr. Blair went to town and I guess Dr. Spencer would go too.
Young Mary Joe never saw anybody with croup and Mrs. Lynde is away. Oh,
Anne!”
“Don’t cry, Di,” said Anne cheerily. “I know exactly what to do for
croup. You forget that Mrs. Hammond had twins three times. When you look
after three pairs of twins you naturally get a lot of experience. They
all had croup regularly. Just wait till I get the ipecac bottle--you
mayn’t have any at your house. Come on now.”
The two little girls hastened out hand in hand and hurried through
Lover’s Lane and across the crusted field beyond, for the snow was too
deep to go by the shorter wood way. Anne, although sincerely sorry
for Minnie May, was far from being insensible to the romance of the
situation and to the sweetness of once more sharing that romance with a
kindred spirit.
The night was clear and frosty, all ebony of shadow and silver of snowy
slope; big stars were shining over the silent fields; here and there the
dark pointed firs stood up with snow powdering their branches and the
wind whistling through them. Anne thought it was truly delightful to go
skimming through all this mystery and loveliness with your bosom friend
who had been so long estranged.
Minnie May, aged three, was really very sick. She lay on the kitchen
sofa feverish and restless, while her hoarse breathing could be heard
all over the house. Young Mary Joe, a buxom, broad-faced French girl
from the creek, whom Mrs. Barry had engaged to stay with the children
during her absence, was helpless and bewildered, quite incapable of