Sorry, miss! Sorry isnt going to help matters any. Youd better go and look at the havoc that animal has made in my oats trampled them from center to circumference, miss.
I am very sorry, repeated Anne firmly, but perhaps if you kept your fences in better repair Dolly might not have broken in. It is your part of the line fence that separates your oatfield from our pasture and I noticed the other day that it was not in very good condition.
My fence is all right, snapped Mr. Harrison, angrier than ever at this carrying of the war into the enemys country. The jail fence couldnt keep a demon of a cow like that out. And I can tell you, you redheaded snippet, that if the cow is yours, as you say, youd be better employed in watching her out of other peoples grain than in sitting round reading yellow-covered novels, with a scathing glance at the innocent tan-colored Virgil by Annes feet.
Something at that moment was red besides Annes hair which had always been a tender point with her.
Id rather have red hair than none at all, except a little fringe round my ears, she flashed.
The shot told, for Mr. Harrison was really very sensitive about his bald head. His anger choked him up again and he could only glare speechlessly at Anne, who recovered her temper and followed up her advantage.
I can make allowance for you, Mr. Harrison, because I have an imagination. I can easily imagine how very trying it must be to find a cow in your oats and I shall not cherish any hard feelings against you for the things youve said. I promise you that Dolly shall never break into your oats again. I give you my word of honor on that point.
Well, mind you she doesnt, muttered Mr. Harrison in a somewhat subdued tone; but he stamped off angrily enough and Anne heard him growling to himself until he was out of earshot.
Grievously disturbed in mind, Anne marched across the yard and shut the naughty Jersey up in the milking pen.
She cant possibly get out of that unless she tears the fence down, she reflected. She looks pretty quiet now. I daresay she has sickened herself on those oats. I wish Id sold her to Mr. Shearer when he wanted her last week, but I thought it was just as well to wait until we had the auction of the stock and let them all go together. I believe it is true about Mr. Harrison being a crank. Certainly theres nothing of the kindred spirit about him.
Anne had always a weather eye open for kindred spirits.
Marilla Cuthbert was driving into the yard as Anne returned from the house, and the latter flew to get tea ready. They discussed the matter at the tea table.
Ill be glad when the auction is over, said Marilla. It is too much responsibility having so much stock about the place and nobody but that unreliable Martin to look after them. He has never come back yet and he promised that he would certainly be back last night if Id give him the day off to go to his aunts funeral. I dont know how many aunts he has got, I am sure. Thats the fourth thats died since he hired here a year ago. Ill be more than thankful when the crop is in and Mr. Barry takes over the farm. Well have to keep Dolly shut up in the pen till Martin comes, for she must be put in the back pasture and the fences there have to be fixed. I declare, it is a world of trouble, as Rachel says. Heres poor Mary Keith dying and what is to become of those two children of hers is more than I know. She has a brother in British Columbia and she has written to him about them, but she hasnt heard from him yet.
What are the children like? How old are they?
Six past theyre twins.
Oh, Ive always been especially interested in twins ever since Mrs. Hammond had so many, said Anne eagerly. Are they pretty?
Goodness, you couldnt tell they were too dirty. Davy had been out making mud pies and Dora went out to call him in. Davy pushed her headfirst into the biggest pie and then, because she cried, he got into it himself and wallowed in it to show her it was nothing to cry about. Mary said Dora was really a very good child but that Davy was full of mischief. He has never had any bringing up you might say. His father died when he was a baby and Mary has been sick almost ever since.
Im always sorry for children that have no bringing up, said Anne soberly. You know I hadnt any till you took me in hand. I hope their uncle will look after them. Just what relation is Mrs. Keith to you?
Mary? None in the world. It was her husband he was our third cousin. Theres Mrs. Lynde coming through the yard. I thought shed be up to hear about Mary.
Dont tell her about Mr. Harrison and the cow, implored Anne.
Marilla promised; but the promise was quite unnecessary, for Mrs. Lynde was no sooner fairly seated than she said,
I saw Mr. Harrison chasing your Jersey out of his oats today when I was coming home from Carmody. I thought he looked pretty mad. Did he make much of a rumpus?
Anne and Marilla furtively exchanged amused smiles. Few things in Avonlea ever escaped Mrs. Lynde. It was only that morning Anne had said,
If you went to your own room at midnight, locked the door, pulled down the blind, and sneezed, Mrs. Lynde would ask you the next day how your cold was!
I believe he did, admitted Marilla. I was away. He gave Anne a piece of his mind.
I think he is a very disagreeable man, said Anne, with a resentful toss of her ruddy head.
You never said a truer word, said Mrs. Rachel solemnly. I knew thered be trouble when Robert Bell sold his place to a New Brunswick man, thats what. I dont know what Avonlea is coming to, with so many strange people rushing into it. Itll soon not be safe to go to sleep in our beds.
Why, what other strangers are coming in? asked Marilla.
Havent you heard? Well, theres a family of Donnells, for one thing. Theyve rented Peter Sloanes old house. Peter has hired the man to run his mill. They belong down east and nobody knows anything about them. Then that shiftless Timothy Cotton family are going to move up from White Sands and theyll simply be a burden on the public. He is in consumption when he isnt stealing and his wife is a slack-twisted creature that cant turn her hand to a thing. She washes her dishes sitting down. Mrs. George Pye has taken her husbands orphan nephew, Anthony Pye. Hell be going to school to you, Anne, so you may expect trouble, thats what. And youll have another strange pupil, too. Paul Irving is coming from the States to live with his grandmother. You remember his father, Marilla Stephen Irving, him that jilted Lavendar Lewis over at Grafton?
I dont think he jilted her. There was a quarrel I suppose there was blame on both sides.
Well, anyway, he didnt marry her, and shes been as queer as possible ever since, they say living all by herself in that little stone house she calls Echo Lodge. Stephen went off to the States and went into business with his uncle and married a Yankee. Hes never been home since, though his mother has been up to see him once or twice. His wife died two years ago and hes sending the boy home to his mother for a spell. Hes ten years old and I dont know if hell be a very desirable pupil. You can never tell about those Yankees.
Mrs. Lynde looked upon all people who had the misfortune to be born or brought up elsewhere than in Prince Edward Island with a decided can-any-good-thing-come-out-of-Nazareth
air. They might be good people, of course; but you were on the safe side in doubting it. She had a special prejudice against Yankees. Her husband had been cheated out of ten dollars by an employer for whom he had once worked in Boston and neither angels nor principalities nor powers could have convinced Mrs. Rachel that the whole United States was not responsible for it.