OCTOBER was a beautiful month
at Green Gables, when the birches
in the hollow turned as golden
as sunshine and the maples behind
the orchard were royal crimson
and the wild cherry trees along
the lane put on the loveliest
shades of dark red and bronzy
green, while the fields sunned
themselves in aftermaths.
Anne reveled in the world of
color about her.
"Oh, Marilla," she exclaimed
one Saturday morning, coming
dancing in with her arms full
of gorgeous boughs" 'I'm so glad
I live in a world where there
are Octobers. It would be terrible
if we just skipped from September
to November, wouldn't it? Look
at these maple branches. Don't
they give you a thrill--several
thrills? I'm going to decorate
my room with them."
"Messy things," said Marilla,
whose aesthetic sense was not
noticeably developed. "You clutter
up your room entirely too much
with out-of-doors stuff, Anne.
Bedrooms were made to sleep in."
"Oh, and dream
in too, Marilla. And you know
one can dream so
much better in a room where there
are pretty things. I'm going
to put these boughs in the old
blue jug and set them on my table."
"Mind you don't
drop leaves all over the stairs
then. I'm
going on a meeting of the Aid
Society at Carmody this afternoon,
Anne, and I won't likely be home
before dark. You'll have to get
Matthew and Jerry their supper,
so mind you don't forget to put
the tea to draw until you sit
down at the table as you did
last time."
"It was dreadful of me to forget," said
Anne apologetically, "but that
was the afternoon I was trying
to think of a name for Violet
Vale and it crowded other things
out. Matthew was so good. He
never scolded a bit. He put the
tea down himself and said we
could wait awhile as well as
not. And I told him a lovely
fairy story while we were waiting,
so he didn't find the time long
at all. It was a beautiful fairy
story, Marilla. I forgot the
end of it, so I made up an end
for it myself and Matthew said
he couldn't tell where the join
came in."
"Matthew would
think it all right, Anne, if
you took a notion
to get up and have dinner in
the middle of the night. But
you keep your wits about you
this time. And--I don't really
know if I'm doing right--it may
make you more addlepated than
ever--but you can ask Diana to
come over and spend the afternoon
with you and have tea here."
"Oh, Marilla!" Anne clasped
her hands. "How perfectly lovely!
You ARE able to imagine things
after all or else you'd never
have understood how I've longed
for that very thing. It will
seem so nice and grown-uppish.
No fear of my forgetting to put
the tea to draw when I have company.
Oh, Marilla, can I use the rosebud
spray tea set?"
"No, indeed!
The rosebud tea set! Well,
what next? You know
I never use that except for the
minister or the Aids. You'll
put down the old brown tea set.
But you can open the little yellow
crock of cherry preserves. It's
time it was being used anyhow--I
believe it's beginning to work.
And you can cut some fruit cake
and have some of the cookies
and snaps."
"I can just imagine myself
sitting down at the head of the
table and pouring out the tea," said
Anne, shutting her eyes ecstatically. "And
asking Diana if she takes sugar!
I know she doesn't but of course
I'll ask her just as if I didn't
know. And then pressing her to
take another piece of fruit cake
and another helping of preserves.
Oh, Marilla, it's a wonderful
sensation just to think of it.
Can I take her into the spare
room to lay off her hat when
she comes? And then into the
parlor to sit?"
"No. The sitting
room will do for you and your
company.
But there's a bottle half full
of raspberry cordial that was
left over from the church social
the other night. It's on the
second shelf of the sitting-room
closet and you and Diana can
have it if you like, and a cooky
to eat with it along in the afternoon,
for I daresay Matthew'll be late
coming in to tea since he's hauling
potatoes to the vessel."
Anne flew down to the hollow,
past the Dryad's Bubble and up
the spruce path to Orchard Slope,
to ask Diana to tea. As a result
just after Marilla had driven
off to Carmody, Diana came over,
dressed in HER second-best dress
and looking exactly as it is
proper to look when asked out
to tea. At other times she was
wont to run into the kitchen
without knocking; but now she
knocked primly at the front door.
And when Anne, dressed in her
second best, as primly opened
it, both little girls shook hands
as gravely as if they had never
met before. This unnatural solemnity
lasted until after Diana had
been taken to the east gable
to lay off her hat and then had
sat for ten minutes in the sitting
room, toes in position.
"How is your mother?" inquired
Anne politely, just as if she
had not seen Mrs. Barry picking
apples that morning in excellent
health and spirits.
"She is very well, thank you.
I suppose Mr. Cuthbert is hauling
potatoes to the LILY SANDS this
afternoon, is he?" said Diana,
who had ridden down to Mr. Harmon
Andrews's that morning in Matthew's
cart.
"Yes. Our potato
crop is very good this year.
I hope your father's
crop is good too."
"It is fairly
good, thank you. Have you picked
many of your
apples yet?"
"Oh, ever so many," said Anne
forgetting to be dignified and
jumping up quickly. "Let's go
out to the orchard and get some
of the Red Sweetings, Diana.
Marilla says we can have all
that are left on the tree. Marilla
is a very generous woman. She
said we could have fruit cake
and cherry preserves for tea.
But it isn't good manners to
tell your company what you are
going to give them to eat, so
I won't tell you what she said
we could have to drink. Only
it begins with an R and a C and
it's bright red color. I love
bright red drinks, don't you?
They taste twice as good as any
other color."
The orchard,
with its great sweeping boughs
that bent to
the ground with fruit, proved
so delightful that the little
girls spent most of the afternoon
in it, sitting in a grassy corner
where the frost had spared the
green and the mellow autumn sunshine
lingered warmly, eating apples
and talking as hard as they could.
Diana had much to tell Anne of
what went on in school. She had
to sit with Gertie Pye and she
hated it; Gertie squeaked her
pencil all the time and it just
made her--Diana's--blood run
cold; Ruby Gillis had charmed
all her warts away, true's you
live, with a magic pebble that
old Mary Joe from the Creek gave
her. You had to rub the warts
with the pebble and then throw
it away over your left shoulder
at the time of the new moon and
the warts would all go. Charlie
Sloane's name was written up
with Em White's on the porch
wall and Em White was AWFUL MAD
about it; Sam Boulter had "sassed" Mr.
Phillips in class and Mr. Phillips
whipped him and Sam's father
came down to the school and dared
Mr. Phillips to lay a hand on
one of his children again; and
Mattie Andrews had a new red
hood and a blue crossover with
tassels on it and the airs she
put on about it were perfectly
sickening; and Lizzie Wright
didn't speak to Mamie Wilson
because Mamie Wilson's grown-up
sister had cut out Lizzie Wright's
grown-up sister with her beau;
and everybody missed Anne so
and wished she's come to school
again; and Gilbert Blythe--
But Anne didn't want to hear
about Gilbert Blythe. She jumped
up hurriedly and said suppose
they go in and have some raspberry
cordial.
Anne looked on the second shelf
of the room pantry but there
was no bottle of raspberry cordial
there . Search revealed it away
back on the top shelf. Anne put
it on a tray and set it on the
table with a tumbler.
"Now, please help yourself,
Diana," she said politely. "I
don't believe I'll have any just
now. I don't feel as if I wanted
any after all those apples."
Diana poured herself out a
tumblerful, looked at its bright-red
hue admiringly, and then sipped
it daintily.
"That's awfully nice raspberry
cordial, Anne," she said. "I
didn't know raspberry cordial
was so nice."
"I'm real glad
you like it. Take as much as
you want. I'm
going to run out and stir the
fire up. There are so many responsibilities
on a person's mind when they're
keeping house, isn't there?"
When Anne came back from the
kitchen Diana was drinking her
second glassful of cordial; and,
being entreated thereto by Anne,
she offered no particular objection
to the drinking of a third. The
tumblerfuls were generous ones
and the raspberry cordial was
certainly very nice.
"The nicest I ever drank," said
Diana. "It's ever so much nicer
than Mrs. Lynde's, although she
brags of hers so much. It doesn't
taste a bit like hers."
"I should think Marilla's raspberry
cordial would prob'ly be much
nicer than Mrs. Lynde's," said
Anne loyally. "Marilla is a famous
cook. She is trying to teach
me to cook but I assure you,
Diana, it is uphill work. There's
so little scope for imagination
in cookery. You just have to
go by rules. The last time I
made a cake I forgot to put the
flour in. I was thinking the
loveliest story about you and
me, Diana. I thought you were
desperately ill with smallpox
and everybody deserted you, but
I went boldly to your bedside
and nursed you back to life;
and then I took the smallpox
and died and I was buried under
those poplar trees in the graveyard
and you planted a rosebush by
my grave and watered it with
your tears; and you never, never
forgot the friend of your youth
who sacrificed her life for you.
Oh, it was such a pathetic tale,
Diana. The tears just rained
down over my cheeks while I mixed
the cake. But I forgot the flour
and the cake was a dismal failure.
Flour is so essential to cakes,
you know. Marilla was very cross
and I don't wonder. I'm a great
trial to her. She was terribly
mortified about the pudding sauce
last week. We had a plum pudding
for dinner on Tuesday and there
was half the pudding and a pitcherful
of sauce left over. Marilla said
there was enough for another
dinner and told me to set it
on the pantry shelf and cover
it. I meant to cover it just
as much as could be, Diana, but
when I carried it in I was imagining
I was a nun--of course I'm a
Protestant but I imagined I was
a Catholic--taking the veil to
bury a broken heart in cloistered
seclusion; and I forgot all about
covering the pudding sauce. I
thought of it next morning and
ran to the pantry. Diana, fancy
if you can my extreme horror
at finding a mouse drowned in
that pudding sauce! I lifted
the mouse out with a spoon and
threw it out in the yard and
then I washed the spoon in three
waters. Marilla was out milking
and I fully intended to ask her
when she came in if I'd give
the sauce to the pigs; but when
she did come in I was imagining
that I was a frost fairy going
through the woods turning the
trees red and yellow, whichever
they wanted to be, so I never
thought about the pudding sauce
again and Marilla sent me out
to pick apples. Well, Mr. and
Mrs. Chester Ross from Spencervale
came here that morning. You know
they are very stylish people,
especially Mrs. Chester Ross.
When Marilla called me in dinner
was all ready and everybody was
at the table. I tried to be as
polite and dignified as I could
be, for I wanted Mrs. Chester
Ross to think I was a ladylike
little girl even if I wasn't
pretty. Everything went right
until I saw Marilla coming with
the plum pudding in one hand
and the pitcher of pudding sauce
WARMED UP, in the other. Diana,
that was a terrible moment. I
remembered everything and I just
stood up in my place and shrieked
out `Marilla, you mustn't use
that pudding sauce. There was
a mouse drowned in it. I forgot
to tell you before.' Oh, Diana,
I shall never forget that awful
moment if I live to be a hundred.
Mrs. Chester Ross just LOOKED
at me and I thought I would sink
through the floor with mortification.
She is such a perfect housekeeper
and fancy what she must have
thought of us. Marilla turned
red as fire but she never said
a word--then. She just carried
that sauce and pudding out and
brought in some strawberry preserves.
She even offered me some, but
I couldn't swallow a mouthful.
It was like heaping coals of
fire on my head. After Mrs. Chester
Ross went away, Marilla gave
me a dreadful scolding. Why,
Diana, what is the matter?"
Diana had stood up very unsteadily;
then she sat down again, putting
her hands to her head.
"I'm--I'm awful sick," she
said, a little thickly. "I--I--must
go right home."
"Oh, you mustn't dream of going
home without your tea," cried
Anne in distress. "I'll get it
right off--I'll go and put the
tea down this very minute."
"I must go home," repeated
Diana, stupidly but determinedly.
"Let me get you a lunch anyhow," implored
Anne. "Let me give you a bit
of fruit cake and some of the
cherry preserves. Lie down on
the sofa for a little while and
you'll be better. Where do you
feel bad?"
"I must go home," said
Diana, and that was all she
would say.
In vain Anne pleaded.
"I never heard of company going
home without tea," she mourned. "Oh,
Diana, do you suppose that it's
possible you're really taking
the smallpox? If you are I'll
go and nurse you, you can depend
on that. I'll never forsake you.
But I do wish you'd stay till
after tea. Where do you feel
bad?"
"I'm awful dizzy," said
Diana.
And indeed, she walked very
dizzily. Anne, with tears of
disappointment in her eyes, got
Diana's hat and went with her
as far as the Barry yard fence.
Then she wept all the way back
to Green Gables, where she sorrowfully
put the remainder of the raspberry
cordial back into the pantry
and got tea ready for Matthew
and Jerry, with all the zest
gone out of the performance.
The next day was Sunday and
as the rain poured down in torrents
from dawn till dusk Anne did
not stir abroad from Green Gables.
Monday afternoon Marilla sent
her down to Mrs. Lynde's on an
errand. In a very short space
of time Anne came flying back
up the lane with tears rolling
down her cheeks. Into the kitchen
she dashed and flung herself
face downward on the sofa in
an agony.
"Whatever has gone wrong now,
Anne?" queried Marilla in doubt
and dismay. "I do hope you haven't
gone and been saucy to Mrs. Lynde
again."
No answer from Anne save more
tears and stormier sobs!
"Anne Shirley,
when I ask you a question I
want to be answered.
Sit right up this very minute
and tell me what you are crying
about."
Anne sat up, tragedy personified.
"Mrs. Lynde was up to see Mrs.
Barry today and Mrs. Barry was
in an awful state," she wailed. "She
says that I set Diana DRUNK Saturday
and sent her home in a disgraceful
condition. And she says I must
be a thoroughly bad, wicked little
girl and she's never, never going
to let Diana play with me again.
Oh, Marilla, I'm just overcome
with woe."
Marilla stared in blank amazement.
"Set Diana drunk!" she said
when she found her voice. "Anne
are you or Mrs. Barry crazy?
What on earth did you give her?"
"Not a thing but raspberry
cordial," sobbed Anne. "I never
thought raspberry cordial would
set people drunk, Marilla--not
even if they drank three big
tumblerfuls as Diana did. Oh,
it sounds so--so--like Mrs. Thomas's
husband! But I didn't mean to
set her drunk."
"Drunk fiddlesticks!" said
Marilla, marching to the sitting
room pantry. There on the shelf
was a bottle which she at once
recognized as one containing
some of her three-year-old homemade
currant wine for which she was
celebrated in Avonlea, although
certain of the stricter sort,
Mrs. Barry among them, disapproved
strongly of it. And at the same
time Marilla recollected that
she had put the bottle of raspberry
cordial down in the cellar instead
of in the pantry as she had told
Anne.
She went back to the kitchen
with the wine bottle in her hand.
Her face was twitching in spite
of herself.
"Anne, you
certainly have a genius for
getting into trouble.
You went and gave Diana currant
wine instead of raspberry cordial.
Didn't you know the difference
yourself?"
"I never tasted it," said Anne. "I
thought it was the cordial. I
meant to be so--so--hospitable.
Diana got awfully sick and had
to go home. Mrs. Barry told Mrs.
Lynde she was simply dead drunk.
She just laughed silly-like when
her mother asked her what was
the matter and went to sleep
and slept for hours. Her mother
smelled her breath and knew she
was drunk. She had a fearful
headache all day yesterday. Mrs.
Barry is so indignant. She will
never believe but what I did
it on purpose."
"I should think she would better
punish Diana for being so greedy
as to drink three glassfuls of
anything," said Marilla shortly. "Why,
three of those big glasses would
have made her sick even if it
had only been cordial. Well,
this story will be a nice handle
for those folks who are so down
on me for making currant wine,
although I haven't made any for
three years ever since I found
out that the minister didn't
approve. I just kept that bottle
for sickness. There, there, child,
don't cry. I can't see as you
were to blame although I'm sorry
it happened so."
"I must cry," said Anne. "My
heart is broken. The stars in
their courses fight against me,
Marilla. Diana and I are parted
forever. Oh, Marilla, I little
dreamed of this when first we
swore our vows of friendship."
"Don't be foolish,
Anne. Mrs. Barry will think
better of it
when she finds you're not to
blame. I suppose she thinks you've
done it for a silly joke or something
of that sort. You'd best go up
this evening and tell her how
it was."
"My courage fails me at the
thought of facing Diana's injured
mother," sighed Anne. "I wish
you'd go, Marilla. You're so
much more dignified than I am.
Likely she'd listen to you quicker
than to me."
"Well, I will," said Marilla,
reflecting that it would probably
be the wiser course. "Don't cry
any more, Anne. It will be all
right."
Marilla had changed her mind
about it being all right by the
time she got back from Orchard
Slope. Anne was watching for
her coming and flew to the porch
door to meet her.
"Oh, Marilla, I know by your
face that it's been no use," she
said sorrowfully. "Mrs. Barry
won't forgive me?"
"Mrs. Barry indeed!" snapped
Marilla. "Of all the unreasonable
women I ever saw she's the worst.
I told her it was all a mistake
and you weren't to blame, but
she just simply didn't believe
me. And she rubbed it well in
about my currant wine and how
I'd always said it couldn't have
the least effect on anybody.
I just told her plainly that
currant wine wasn't meant to
be drunk three tumblerfuls at
a time and that if a child I
had to do with was so greedy
I'd sober her up with a right
good spanking."
Marilla whisked into the kitchen,
grievously disturbed, leaving
a very much distracted little
soul in the porch behind her.
Presently Anne stepped out bareheaded
into the chill autumn dusk; very
determinedly and steadily she
took her way down through the
sere clover field over the log
bridge and up through the spruce
grove, lighted by a pale little
moon hanging low over the western
woods. Mrs. Barry, coming to
the door in answer to a timid
knock, found a white-lipped eager-eyed
suppliant on the doorstep.
Her face hardened. Mrs. Barry
was a woman of strong prejudices
and dislikes, and her anger was
of the cold, sullen sort which
is always hardest to overcome.
To do her justice, she really
believed Anne had made Diana
drunk out of sheer malice prepense,???
and she was honestly anxious
to preserve her little daughter
from the contamination of further
intimacy with such a child.
"What do you want?" she
said stiffly.
Anne clasped her hands.
"Oh, Mrs. Barry,
please forgive me. I did not
mean to--to--intoxicate
Diana. How could I? Just imagine
if you were a poor little orphan
girl that kind people had adopted
and you had just one bosom friend
in all the world. Do you think
you would intoxicate her on purpose?
I thought it was only raspberry
cordial. I was firmly convinced
it was raspberry cordial. Oh,
please don't say that you won't
let Diana play with me any more.
If you do you will cover my life
with a dark cloud of woe."
This speech which would have
softened good Mrs. Lynde's heart
in a twinkling, had no effect
on Mrs. Barry except to irritate
her still more. She was suspicious
of Anne's big words and dramatic
gestures and imagined that the
child was making fun of her.
So she said, coldly and cruelly:
"I don't think
you are a fit little girl for
Diana to associate
with. You'd better go home and
behave yourself."
Anne's lips quivered.
"Won't you let me see Diana
just once to say farewell?" she
implored.
"Diana has gone over to Carmody
with her father," said Mrs. Barry,
going in and shutting the door.
Anne went back to Green Gables
calm with despair.
"My last hope is gone," she
told Marilla. "I went up and
saw Mrs. Barry myself and she
treated me very insultingly.
Marilla, I do NOT think she is
a well-bred woman. There is nothing
more to do except to pray and
I haven't much hope that that'll
do much good because, Marilla,
I do not believe that God Himself
can do very much with such an
obstinate person as Mrs. Barry."
"Anne, you shouldn't say such
things" rebuked Marilla, striving
to overcome that unholy tendency
to laughter which she was dismayed
to find growing upon her. And
indeed, when she told the whole
story to Matthew that night,
she did laugh heartily over Anne's
tribulations.
But when she slipped into the
east gable before going to bed
and found that Anne had cried
herself to sleep an unaccustomed
softness crept into her face.
"Poor little soul," she
murmured, lifting a loose curl
of hair
from the child's tear-stained
face. Then she bent down and
kissed the flushed cheek on the
pillow.
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