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- Аня из Авонлеи
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“
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
of
duty
.
It
does
people
good
to
have
to
do
things
they
don
’
t
like
.
.
.
in
moderation
.
”
Mrs
.
Rachel
Lynde
was
sitting
at
her
kitchen
window
,
knitting
a
quilt
,
just
as
she
had
been
sitting
one
evening
several
years
previously
when
Matthew
Cuthbert
had
driven
down
over
the
hill
with
what
Mrs
.
Rachel
called
“
his
imported
orphan
.
”
But
that
had
been
in
springtime
;
and
this
was
late
autumn
,
and
all
the
woods
were
leafless
and
the
fields
sere
and
brown
.
The
sun
was
just
setting
with
a
great
deal
of
purple
and
golden
pomp
behind
the
dark
woods
west
of
Avonlea
when
a
buggy
drawn
by
a
comfortable
brown
nag
came
down
the
hill
.
Mrs
.
Rachel
peered
at
it
eagerly
.
“
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
the
lounge
nowadays
than
he
had
been
used
to
do
,
but
Mrs
.
Rachel
,
who
was
so
sharp
at
noticing
anything
beyond
her
own
household
,
had
not
as
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
jerking
him
back
.
Dora
’
s
sitting
up
on
the
seat
as
prim
as
you
please
.
She
always
looks
as
if
she
’
d
just
been
starched
and
ironed
.
Well
,
poor
Marilla
is
going
to
have
her
hands
full
this
winter
and
no
mistake
.
Still
,
I
don
’
t
see
that
she
could
do
anything
less
than
take
them
,
under
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
children
,
I
must
say
.
Dear
me
,
it
doesn
’
t
seem
a
day
since
poor
Matthew
brought
Anne
herself
home
and
everybody
laughed
at
the
idea
of
Marilla
bringing
up
a
child
.
And
now
she
has
adopted
twins
.
You
’
re
never
safe
from
being
surprised
till
you
’
re
dead
.
”
The
fat
pony
jogged
over
the
bridge
in
Lynde
’
s
Hollow
and
along
the
Green
Gables
lane
.
Marilla
’
s
face
was
rather
grim
.
It
was
ten
miles
from
East
Grafton
and
Davy
Keith
seemed
to
be
possessed
with
a
passion
for
perpetual
motion
.
It
was
beyond
Marilla
’
s
power
to
make
him
sit
still
and
she
had
been
in
an
agony
the
whole
way
lest
he
fall
over
the
back
of
the
wagon
and
break
his
neck
,
or
tumble
over
the
dashboard
under
the
pony
’
s
heels
.
In
despair
she
finally
threatened
to
whip
him
soundly
when
she
got
him
home
.
Whereupon
Davy
climbed
into
her
lap
,
regardless
of
the
reins
,
flung
his
chubby
arms
about
her
neck
and
gave
her
a
bear
-
like
hug
.
“
I
don
’
t
believe
you
mean
it
,
”
he
said
,
smacking
her
wrinkled
cheek
affectionately
.
“
You
don
’
t
LOOK
like
a
lady
who
’
d
whip
a
little
boy
just
‘
cause
he
couldn
’
t
keep
still
.
Didn
’
t
you
find
it
awful
hard
to
keep
still
when
you
was
only
‘
s
old
as
me
?
”
“
No
,
I
always
kept
still
when
I
was
told
,
”
said
Marilla
,
trying
to
speak
sternly
,
albeit
she
felt
her
heart
waxing
soft
within
her
under
Davy
’
s
impulsive
caresses
.
“
Well
,
I
s
’
pose
that
was
‘
cause
you
was
a
girl
,
”
said
Davy
,
squirming
back
to
his
place
after
another
hug
.
“
You
WAS
a
girl
once
,
I
s
’
pose
,
though
it
’
s
awful
funny
to
think
of
it
.
Dora
can
sit
still
.
.
.
but
there
ain
’
t
much
fun
in
it
I
don
’
t
think
.
Seems
to
me
it
must
be
slow
to
be
a
girl
.
Here
,
Dora
,
let
me
liven
you
up
a
bit
.
”
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
.
“
How
can
you
be
such
a
naughty
boy
and
your
poor
mother
just
laid
in
her
grave
this
very
day
?
”
demanded
Marilla
despairingly
.
