Аня з острова Принца Едуарда

The Way of Transgressors

           Shehadbeenafraidshewouldbealoneinacrowdofboys.Mirabelwasalmostasbadasaboyshewassonoisyandsunburnedandreckless.Butatleastsheworedresses.

           “We’vecometogofishing,”announcedDavy.

           “Whoop,”yelledtheCottons.Theyrushedawaytodigwormsatonce,Mirabelleadingthevanwithatincan.Doracouldhavesatdownandcried.Oh,ifonlythathatefulFrankBellhadneverkissedher!ThenshecouldhavedefiedDavy,andgonetoherbelovedSundaySchool.

           Theydarednot,ofcourse,gofishingonthepond,wheretheywouldbeseenbypeoplegoingtochurch.TheyhadtoresorttothebrookinthewoodsbehindtheCottonhouse.Butitwasfulloftrout,andtheyhadaglorioustimethatmorningatleasttheCottonscertainlyhad,andDavyseemedtohaveit.Notbeingentirelybereftofprudence,hehaddiscardedbootsandstockingsandborrowedTommyCotton’soveralls.Thusaccoutered,bogandmarshandundergrowthhadnoterrorsforhim.Dorawasfranklyandmanifestlymiserable.Shefollowedtheothersintheirperegrinationsfrompooltopool,claspingherBibleandquarterlytightlyandthinkingwithbitternessofsoulofherbelovedclasswheresheshouldbesittingthatverymoment,beforeateachersheadored.Instead,hereshewasroamingthewoodswiththosehalf-wildCottons,tryingtokeepherbootscleanandherprettywhitedressfreefromrentsandstains.MirabelhadofferedtheloanofanapronbutDorahadscornfullyrefused.

           ThetroutbitastheyalwaysdoonSundays.

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