Аня з острова Принца Едуарда

The Round of Life

           Well,theyusedtohaveaprayermeetingonSundayevenings,andallthechurchmemberspresentwouldgetupandprayinturn,orsayafewwordsonsomeBibleverse.ButoneeveningAuntAtossabouncedup.Shedidn’teitherprayorpreach.Instead,shelitintoeverybodyelseinthechurchandgavethemafearfulrakingdown,callingthemrightoutbynameandtellingthemhowtheyallhadbehaved,andcastingupallthequarrelsandscandalsofthepasttenyears.FinallyshewoundupbysayingthatshewasdisgustedwithSpencervalechurchandshenevermeanttodarkenitsdooragain,andshehopedafearfuljudgmentwouldcomeuponit.Thenshesatdownoutofbreath,andtheminister,whohadn’theardawordshesaid,immediatelyremarked,inaverydevoutvoice,‘amen!TheLordgrantourdearsister’sprayer!’Yououghttohearfathertellthestory.”

           “Speakingofstories,Diana,”remarkedAnne,inasignificant,confidentialtone,“doyouknowthatlatelyIhavebeenwonderingifIcouldwriteashortstoryastorythatwouldbegoodenoughtobepublished?”

           “Why,ofcourseyoucould,”saidDiana,aftershehadgraspedtheamazingsuggestion.“YouusedtowriteperfectlythrillingstoriesyearsagoinouroldStoryClub.”

           “Well,Ihardlymeantoneofthatkindofstories,”smiledAnne.“I’vebeenthinkingaboutitalittleoflate,butI’malmostafraidtotry,for,ifIshouldfail,itwouldbetoohumiliating.”

           “IheardPriscillasayoncethatallMrs.Morgan’sfirststorieswererejected.

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