Аня з Авонлеї
I. An Irate Neighbor
RachelgotherselfawayandsaiditwasamercypoorMrs.RobertBellwassafeinhergrave,foritwouldhavebrokenherhearttoseethestateofherhouseinwhichsheusedtotakesomuchpride.
“Why,shescrubbedthekitchenflooreverysecondday,”Mrs.LyndetoldMarillaCuthbertindignantly,“andifyoucouldseeitnow!IhadtoholdupmyskirtsasIwalkedacrossit.”
Finally,Mr.HarrisonkeptaparrotcalledGinger.NobodyinAvonleahadeverkeptaparrotbefore;consequentlythatproceedingwasconsideredbarelyrespectable.Andsuchaparrot!IfyoutookJohnHenryCarter’swordforit,neverwassuchanunholybird.Itsworeterribly.Mrs.CarterwouldhavetakenJohnHenryawayatonceifshehadbeensureshecouldgetanotherplaceforhim.Besides,GingerhadbittenapiecerightoutofthebackofJohnHenry’sneckonedaywhenhehadstoopeddowntoonearthecage.Mrs.CartershowedeverybodythemarkwhenthelucklessJohnHenrywenthomeonSundays.
AllthesethingsflashedthroughAnne’smindasMr.Harrisonstood,quitespeechlesswithwrathapparently,beforeher.InhismostamiablemoodMr.Harrisoncouldnothavebeenconsideredahandsomeman;hewasshortandfatandbald;andnow,withhisroundfacepurplewithrageandhisprominentblueeyesalmoststickingoutofhishead,Annethoughthewasreallytheugliestpersonshehadeverseen.
AllatonceMr.Harrisonfoundhisvoice.
“I’mnotgoingtoputupwiththis,”hespluttered,“notadaylonger,doyouhear,miss.Blessmysoul,thisisthethirdtime,miss...
