Аня із Зелених Мезонінів

Chapter XI. Anne’s Impressions of Sunday-School

           Bellmadeanawfullylongprayer.IwouldhavebeendreadfullytiredbeforehegotthroughifIhadn’tbeensittingbythatwindow.ButitlookedrightoutontheLakeofShiningWaters,soIjustgazedatthatandimaginedallsortsofsplendidthings.”

           “Youshouldn’thavedoneanythingofthesort.YoushouldhavelistenedtoMr.Bell.”

           “Buthewasn’ttalkingtome,”protestedAnne.“HewastalkingtoGodandhedidn’tseemtobeverymuchinter-estedinit,either.IthinkhethoughtGodwastoofaroffthough.Therewasalongrowofwhitebircheshangingoverthelakeandthesunshinefelldownthroughthem,‘way,‘waydown,deepintothewater.Oh,Marilla,itwaslikeabeautifuldream!ItgavemeathrillandIjustsaid,‘Thankyouforit,God,’twoorthreetimes.”

           “Notoutloud,Ihope,”saidMarillaanxiously.

           “Oh,no,justundermybreath.Well,Mr.BelldidgetthroughatlastandtheytoldmetogointotheclassroomwithMissRogerson’sclass.Therewerenineothergirlsinit.Theyallhadpuffedsleeves.Itriedtoimagineminewerepuffed,too,butIcouldn’t.Whycouldn’tI?ItwasaseasyascouldbetoimaginetheywerepuffedwhenIwasaloneintheeastgable,butitwasawfullyhardthereamongtheotherswhohadreallytrulypuffs.”

           “Youshouldn’thavebeenthinkingaboutyoursleevesinSundayschool.Youshouldhavebeenattendingtothelesson.Ihopeyouknewit.”

           “Oh,yes;andIansweredalotofquestions.MissRogersonaskedeversomany.Idon’tthinkitwasfairforhertodoalltheasking.

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