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But
alas
,
the
final
week
of
that
pleasant
vacation
was
spoiled
for
Anne
,
by
one
of
those
impish
happenings
which
are
like
a
dream
turned
upside
down
.
"
Been
writing
any
more
stories
lately
?
"
inquired
Mr.
Harrison
genially
one
evening
when
Anne
was
taking
tea
with
him
and
Mrs.
Harrison
.
"
No
,
"
answered
Anne
,
rather
crisply
.
"
Well
,
no
offense
meant
.
Mrs.
Hiram
Sloane
told
me
the
other
day
that
a
big
envelope
addressed
to
the
Rollings
Reliable
Baking
Powder
Company
of
Montreal
had
been
dropped
into
the
post
office
box
a
month
ago
,
and
she
suspicioned
that
somebody
was
trying
for
the
prize
they
'd
offered
for
the
best
story
that
introduced
the
name
of
their
baking
powder
.
She
said
it
was
n't
addressed
in
your
writing
,
but
I
thought
maybe
it
was
you
.
"
"
Indeed
,
no
!
I
saw
the
prize
offer
,
but
I
'd
never
dream
of
competing
for
it
.
I
think
it
would
be
perfectly
disgraceful
to
write
a
story
to
advertise
a
baking
powder
.
It
would
be
almost
as
bad
as
Judson
Parker
's
patent
medicine
fence
.
"
So
spake
Anne
loftily
,
little
dreaming
of
the
valley
of
humiliation
awaiting
her
.
That
very
evening
Diana
popped
into
the
porch
gable
,
bright-eyed
and
rosy
cheeked
,
carrying
a
letter
.
"
Oh
,
Anne
,
here
's
a
letter
for
you
.
I
was
at
the
office
,
so
I
thought
I
'd
bring
it
along
.
Do
open
it
quick
.
If
it
is
what
I
believe
it
is
I
shall
just
be
wild
with
delight
.
"
Anne
,
puzzled
,
opened
the
letter
and
glanced
over
the
typewritten
contents
.
Miss
Anne
Shirley
,
Green
Gables
,
