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    Chapter 22 - Page 2

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    reminds me of the night I came here first. Do you remember it, Marilla?"

    "Well, yes," said Marilla with emphasis. "I'm not likely to forget it ever."

    "They used to sing so madly in the marsh and brook that year. I would listen to them at my window in the dusk, and wonder how they could seem so glad and so sad at the same time. Oh, but it's good to be home again! Redmond was splendid and Bolingbroke delightful -- but Green Gables is HOME."

    "Gilbert isn't coming home this summer, I hear," said Marilla.

    "No." Something in Anne's tone made Marilla glance at her sharply, but Anne was apparently absorbed in arranging her violets in a bowl. "See, aren't they sweet?" she went on hurriedly. "The year is a book, isn't it, Marilla? Spring's pages are written in Mayflowers and violets, summer's in roses, autumn's in red maple leaves, and winter in holly and evergreen."

    "Did Gilbert do well in his examinations?" persisted Marilla.

    "Excellently well. He led his class. But where are the twins and Mrs. Lynde?"

    "Rachel and Dora are over at Mr. Harrison's. Davy is down at Boulters'. I think I hear him coming now."

    Davy burst in, saw Anne, stopped, and then hurled himself upon her with a joyful yell.

    "Oh, Anne, ain't I glad to see you! Say, Anne, I've grown two inches since last fall. Mrs. Lynde measured me with her tape today, and say, Anne, see my front tooth. It's gone. Mrs. Lynde tied one end of a string to it and the other end to the door, and then shut the door. I sold it to Milty for two cents. Milty's collecting teeth."

    "What in the world does he want teeth for?" asked Marilla.

    "To make a necklace for playing Indian Chief," explained Davy, climbing upon Anne's lap. "He's got fifteen already, and everybody's else's promised, so there's no use in the rest of us starting to collect, too. I tell you the Boulters are great business people."

    "Were you a good boy at Mrs. Boulter's?" asked Marilla severely.

    "Yes; but say, Marilla, I'm tired of being good."

    "You'd get tired of being bad much sooner, Davy-boy," said Anne.

    "Well, it'd be fun while it lasted, wouldn't it?" persisted Davy. "I could be sorry for it afterwards, couldn't I?"

    "Being sorry wouldn't do away with the consequences of being bad, Davy. Don't you remember the Sunday last summer when you ran away from Sunday School? You told me then that being bad wasn't worth while. What were you and Milty doing today?"


    "Oh, we fished and chased the cat, and hunted for eggs, and yelled at the echo. There's a great echo in the bush behind the Boulter barn. Say, what is echo, Anne; I want to know."

    "Echo is a beautiful nymph, Davy, living far away in the woods, and laughing at the world from among the hills."

    "What does she look like?"

    "Her hair and eyes are dark, but her neck and arms are white as
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