Аня із Зелених Мезонінів

Chapter IV. Morning at Green Gables

           

           Belowthegardenagreenfieldlushwithcloverslopeddowntothehollowwherethebrookranandwherescoresofwhitebirchesgrew,upspringingairilyoutofanundergrowthsuggestiveofdelightfulpossibilitiesinfernsandmossesandwoodsythingsgenerally.Beyonditwasahill,greenandfeatherywithspruceandfir;therewasagapinitwherethegraygableendofthelittlehouseshehadseenfromtheothersideoftheLakeofShiningWaterswasvisible.

           Offtotheleftwerethebigbarnsandbeyondthem,awaydownovergreen,low-slopingfields,wasasparklingblueglimpseofsea.

           Anne’sbeauty-lovingeyeslingeredonitall,takingeverythinggreedilyin.Shehadlookedonsomanyunlovelyplacesinherlife,poorchild;butthiswasaslovelyasanythingshehadeverdreamed.

           Shekneltthere,losttoeverythingbutthelovelinessaroundher,untilshewasstartledbyahandonhershoulder.Marillahadcomeinunheardbythesmalldreamer.

           “It’stimeyouweredressed,”shesaidcurtly.

           Marillareallydidnotknowhowtotalktothechild,andheruncomfortableignorancemadehercrispandcurtwhenshedidnotmeantobe.

           Annestoodupanddrewalongbreath.

           “Oh,isn’titwonderful?”shesaid,wavingherhandcomprehensivelyatthegoodworldoutside.

           “It’sabigtree,”saidMarilla,“anditbloomsgreat,butthefruitdon’tamounttomuchnever—smallandwormy.

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