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"
I
wonder
why
everybody
seems
to
think
I
ought
to
marry
Gilbert
Blythe
,
"
said
Anne
petulantly
"
Because
you
were
made
and
meant
for
each
other
,
Anne
--
that
is
why
.
You
need
n't
toss
that
young
head
of
yours
.
It
's
a
fact
.
"
"
PROSPECT
POINT
,
"
August
20th
.
"
Dear
Anne
--
spelled
--
with
--
an
--
E
,
"
wrote
Phil
,
"
I
must
prop
my
eyelids
open
long
enough
to
write
you
.
I
've
neglected
you
shamefully
this
summer
,
honey
,
but
all
my
other
correspondents
have
been
neglected
,
too
.
I
have
a
huge
pile
of
letters
to
answer
,
so
I
must
gird
up
the
loins
of
my
mind
and
hoe
in
.
Excuse
my
mixed
metaphors
.
I
'm
fearfully
sleepy
.
Last
night
Cousin
Emily
and
I
were
calling
at
a
neighbor
's
.
There
were
several
other
callers
there
,
and
as
soon
as
those
unfortunate
creatures
left
,
our
hostess
and
her
three
daughters
picked
them
all
to
pieces
.
I
knew
they
would
begin
on
Cousin
Emily
and
me
as
soon
as
the
door
shut
behind
us
.
When
we
came
home
Mrs.
Lilly
informed
us
that
the
aforesaid
neighbor
's
hired
boy
was
supposed
to
be
down
with
scarlet
fever
.
You
can
always
trust
Mrs.
Lilly
to
tell
you
cheerful
things
like
that
.
I
have
a
horror
of
scarlet
fever
.
I
could
n't
sleep
when
I
went
to
bed
for
thinking
of
it
.
I
tossed
and
tumbled
about
,
dreaming
fearful
dreams
when
I
did
snooze
for
a
minute
;
and
at
three
I
wakened
up
with
a
high
fever
,
a
sore
throat
,
and
a
raging
headache
.
I
knew
I
had
scarlet
fever
;
I
got
up
in
a
panic
and
hunted
up
Cousin
Emily
's
'
doctor
book
'
to
read
up
the
symptoms
.
Anne
,
I
had
them
all
.
So
I
went
back
to
bed
,
and
knowing
the
worst
,
slept
like
a
top
the
rest
of
the
night
.
Though
why
a
top
should
sleep
sounder
than
anything
else
I
never
could
understand
.
But
this
morning
I
was
quite
well
,
so
it
could
n't
have
been
the
fever
.
I
suppose
if
I
did
catch
it
last
night
it
could
n't
have
developed
so
soon
.
I
can
remember
that
in
daytime
,
but
at
three
o'clock
at
night
I
never
can
be
logical
.
"
I
suppose
you
wonder
what
I
'm
doing
at
Prospect
Point
.
Well
,
I
always
like
to
spend
a
month
of
summer
at
the
shore
,
and
father
insists
that
I
come
to
his
second-cousin
Emily
's
'
select
boardinghouse
'
at
Prospect
Point
.
So
a
fortnight
ago
I
came
as
usual
.
And
as
usual
old
'
Uncle
Mark
Miller
'
brought
me
from
the
station
with
his
ancient
buggy
and
what
he
calls
his
'
generous
purpose
'
horse
.
He
is
a
nice
old
man
and
gave
me
a
handful
of
pink
peppermints
.
Peppermints
always
seem
to
me
such
a
religious
sort
of
candy
--
I
suppose
because
when
I
was
a
little
girl
Grandmother
Gordon
always
gave
them
to
me
in
church
.
Once
I
asked
,
referring
to
the
smell
of
peppermints
,
'
Is
that
the
odor
of
sanctity
?
'
I
did
n't
like
to
eat
Uncle
Mark
's
peppermints
because
he
just
fished
them
loose
out
of
his
pocket
,
and
had
to
pick
some
rusty
nails
and
other
things
from
among
them
before
he
gave
them
to
me
.
But
I
would
n't
hurt
his
dear
old
feelings
for
anything
,
so
I
carefully
sowed
them
along
the
road
at
intervals
.
When
the
last
one
was
gone
,
Uncle
Mark
said
,
a
little
rebukingly
,
'
Ye
should
n't
a
'
et
all
them
candies
to
onct
,
Miss
Phil
.
You
'll
likely
have
the
stummick-ache
.
'
"
Cousin
Emily
has
only
five
boarders
besides
myself
--
four
old
ladies
and
one
young
man
.
My
right-hand
neighbor
is
Mrs.
Lilly
.
She
is
one
of
those
people
who
seem
to
take
a
gruesome
pleasure
in
detailing
all
their
many
aches
and
pains
and
sicknesses
.
You
can
not
mention
any
ailment
but
she
says
,
shaking
her
head
,
'
Ah
,
I
know
too
well
what
that
is
'
--
and
then
you
get
all
the
details
.
Jonas
declares
he
once
spoke
of
locomotor
ataxia
in
hearing
and
she
said
she
knew
too
well
what
that
was
.
She
suffered
from
it
for
ten
years
and
was
finally
cured
by
a
traveling
doctor
.
"
Who
is
Jonas
?
Just
wait
,
Anne
Shirley
.
You
'll
hear
all
about
Jonas
in
the
proper
time
and
place
.
He
is
not
to
be
mixed
up
with
estimable
old
ladies
.
"
My
left-hand
neighbor
at
the
table
is
Mrs.
Phinney
.
She
always
speaks
with
a
wailing
,
dolorous
voice
--
you
are
nervously
expecting
her
to
burst
into
tears
every
moment
.
She
gives
you
the
impression
that
life
to
her
is
indeed
a
vale
of
tears
,
and
that
a
smile
,
never
to
speak
of
a
laugh
,
is
a
frivolity
truly
reprehensible
.
She
has
a
worse
opinion
of
me
than
Aunt
Jamesina
,
and
she
does
n't
love
me
hard
to
atone
for
it
,
as
Aunty
J.
does
,
either
.
