Chapter XX. A Good Imagination Gone Wrong

           

           SpringhadcomeoncemoretoGreenGables—thebeautifulcapricious,reluctantCanadianspring,lingeringalongthroughAprilandMayinasuccessionofsweet,fresh,chillydays,withpinksunsetsandmiraclesofresurrectionandgrowth.ThemaplesinLover’sLanewereredbuddedandlittlecurlyfernspusheduparoundtheDryad’sBubble.Awayupinthebarrens,behindMr.SilasSloane’splace,theMayflowersblossomedout,pinkandwhitestarsofsweetnessundertheirbrownleaves.Alltheschoolgirlsandboyshadonegoldenafternoongatheringthem,cominghomeintheclear,echoingtwilightwitharmsandbasketsfulloffloweryspoil.

           “I’msosorryforpeoplewholiveinlandswheretherearenoMayflowers,”saidAnne.“Dianasaysperhapstheyhavesomethingbetter,buttherecouldn’tbeanythingbetterthanMayflowers,couldthere,Marilla?AndDianasaysiftheydon’tknowwhattheyareliketheydon’tmissthem.ButIthinkthatisthesaddestthingofall.Ithinkitwouldbetragic,Marilla,nottoknowwhatMayflowersarelikeandnottomissthem.DoyouknowwhatIthinkMayflowersare,Marilla?Ithinktheymustbethesoulsoftheflowersthatdiedlastsummerandthisistheirheaven.Butwehadasplendidtimetoday,Marilla.Wehadourlunchdowninabigmossyhollowbyanoldwell—sucharomanticspot.CharlieSloanedaredArtyGillistojumpoverit,andArtydidbecausehewouldn’ttakeadare.Nobodywouldinschool.Itisveryfashionabletodare.Mr.PhillipsgavealltheMayflowershefoundtoPrissyAndrewsandIheardhimtosay‘sweetstothesweet.

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