Аня із Зелених Мезонінів

Chapter XXVI. The Story Club Is Formed

           “AliceBellisonlysixteenandsheiswearinghersup,butIthinkthat’sridiculous.IshallwaituntilI’mseventeen.”

           “IfIhadAliceBell’scrookednose,”saidAnnedecidedly,“Iwouldn’t—butthere!Iwon’tsaywhatIwasgoingtobecauseitwasextremelyuncharitable.Besides,Iwascomparingitwithmyownnoseandthat’svanity.I’mafraidIthinktoomuchaboutmynoseeversinceIheardthatcomplimentaboutitlongago.Itreallyisagreatcomforttome.Oh,Diana,look,there’sarabbit.That’ssomethingtorememberforourwoodscomposition.Ireallythinkthewoodsarejustaslovelyinwinterasinsummer.They’resowhiteandstill,asiftheywereasleepanddreamingprettydreams.”

           “Iwon’tmindwritingthatcompositionwhenitstimecomes,”sighedDiana.“Icanmanagetowriteaboutthewoods,buttheonewe’retohandinMondayisterrible.TheideaofMissStacytellingustowriteastoryoutofourownheads!”

           “Why,it’saseasyaswink,”saidAnne.

           “It’seasyforyoubecauseyouhaveanimagination,”retortedDiana,“butwhatwouldyoudoifyouhadbeenbornwithoutone?Isupposeyouhaveyourcompositionalldone?”

           Annenodded,tryinghardnottolookvirtuouslycomplacentandfailingmiserably.

           “IwroteitlastMondayevening.It’scalled‘TheJealousRival;orInDeathNotDivided.’IreadittoMarillaandshesaiditwasstuffandnonsense.ThenIreadittoMatthewandhesaiditwasfine.ThatisthekindofcriticIlike.It’sasad,sweetstory.IjustcriedlikeachildwhileIwaswritingit.

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