Аня із Зелених Мезонінів

Chapter XIII. The Delights of Anticipation

           Asforcooking,Imeantobegingivingyoulessonsinthatsomeofthesedays.Butyou’resofeatherbrained,Anne,I’vebeenwaitingtoseeifyou’dsoberdownalittleandlearntobesteadybeforeIbegin.You’vegottokeepyourwitsaboutyouincookingandnotstopinthemiddleofthingstoletyourthoughtsroveallovercreation.Now,getoutyourpatchworkandhaveyoursquaredonebeforeteatime.”

           “Idonotlikepatchwork,”saidAnnedolefully,huntingoutherworkbasketandsittingdownbeforealittleheapofredandwhitediamondswithasigh.“Ithinksomekindsofsewingwouldbenice;butthere’snoscopeforimaginationinpatchwork.It’sjustonelittleseamafteranotherandyouneverseemtobegettinganywhere.ButofcourseI’dratherbeAnneofGreenGablessewingpatchworkthanAnneofanyotherplacewithnothingtodobutplay.IwishtimewentasquicksewingpatchesasitdoeswhenI’mplayingwithDiana,though.Oh,wedohavesucheleganttimes,Marilla.Ihavetofurnishmostoftheimagination,butI’mwellabletodothat.Dianaissimplyperfectineveryotherway.YouknowthatlittlepieceoflandacrossthebrookthatrunsupbetweenourfarmandMr.Barry’s.ItbelongstoMr.WilliamBell,andrightinthecornerthereisalittleringofwhitebirchtrees—themostromanticspot,Marilla.DianaandIhaveourplayhousethere.WecallitIdlewild.Isn’tthatapoeticalname?Iassureyouittookmesometimetothinkitout.IstayedawakenearlyawholenightbeforeIinventedit.Then,justasIwasdroppingofftosleep,itcamelikeaninspiration.

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