Аня з Авонлеї
XVIII. An Adventure on the Tory Road
Ikeptthinkinghowmuchgoodtherainwilldoandhowgladmygardenmustbeforit,andimaginingwhattheflowersandbudswouldthinkwhenthedropsbegantofall.Iimaginedoutamostinterestingdialoguebetweentheastersandthesweetpeasandthewildcanariesinthelilacbushandtheguardianspiritofthegarden.WhenIgohomeImeantowriteitdown.IwishIhadapencilandpapertodoitnow,becauseIdaresayI’llforgetthebestpartsbeforeIreachhome.”
Dianathefaithfulhadapencilanddiscoveredasheetofwrappingpaperintheboxofthebuggy.Annefoldedupherdrippingparasol,putonherhat,spreadthewrappingpaperonashingleDianahandedup,andwroteouthergardenidylunderconditionsthatcouldhardlybeconsideredasfavorabletoliterature.Nevertheless,theresultwasquitepretty,andDianawas“enraptured”whenAnnereadittoher.
“Oh,Anne,it’ssweet...justsweet.DOsendittothe‘CanadianWoman.’”
Anneshookherhead.
“Oh,no,itwouldn’tbesuitableatall.ThereisnoPLOTinit,yousee.It’sjustastringoffancies.Ilikewritingsuchthings,butofcoursenothingofthesortwouldeverdoforpublication,foreditorsinsistonplots,soPriscillasays.Oh,there’sMissSarahCoppnow.PLEASE,Diana,goandexplain.”
MissSarahCoppwasasmallperson,garbedinshabbyblack,withahatchosenlessforvainadornmentthanforqualitiesthatwouldwearwell.Shelookedasamazedasmightbeexpectedonseeingthecurioustableauinheryard,butwhensheheardDiana’sexplanationshewasallsympathy.
