Аня із Зелених Мезонінів

Chapter XX. A Good Imagination Gone Wrong

           Thomas’sfatherwaspursuedhomeonenightbyalamboffirewithitsheadcutoffhangingbyastripofskin.Hesaidheknewitwasthespiritofhisbrotherandthatitwasawarninghewoulddiewithinninedays.Hedidn’t,buthediedtwoyearsafter,soyouseeitwasreallytrue.AndRubyGillissays—”

           “AnneShirley,”interruptedMarillafirmly,“Ineverwanttohearyoutalkinginthisfashionagain.I’vehadmydoubtsaboutthatimaginationofyoursrightalong,andifthisisgoingtobetheoutcomeofit,Iwon’tcountenanceanysuchdoings.You’llgorightovertoBarry’s,andyou’llgothroughthatsprucegrove,justforalessonandawarningtoyou.Andneverletmehearawordoutofyourheadabouthauntedwoodsagain.”

           Annemightpleadandcryassheliked—anddid,forherterrorwasveryreal.Herimaginationhadrunawaywithherandsheheldthesprucegroveinmortaldreadafternightfall.ButMarillawasinexorable.Shemarchedtheshrinkingghost-seerdowntothespringandorderedhertoproceedstraightawayoverthebridgeandintotheduskyretreatsofwailingladiesandheadlessspectersbeyond.

           “Oh,Marilla,howcanyoubesocruel?”sobbedAnne.“Whatwouldyoufeellikeifawhitethingdidsnatchmeupandcarrymeoff?”

           “I’llriskit,”saidMarillaunfeelingly.“YouknowIalwaysmeanwhatIsay.I’llcureyouofimaginingghostsintoplaces.March,now.”

           Annemarched.Thatis,shestumbledoverthebridgeandwentshudderingupthehorribledimpathbeyond.Anneneverforgotthatwalk

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