LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Thanks be, I'm done with geometry, learning or teaching it, said Anne Shirley, a trifle vindictively, as she thumped a somewhat battered volume of Euclid into a big chest of books, banged the lid in triumph, and sat down upon it, looking at Diana Wright across the Green Gables garret, with gray eyes that were like a morning sky. The garret was a...

Harvest is ended and summer is gone, quoted Anne Shirley, gazing across the shorn fields dreamily. She and Diana Barry had been picking apples in the Green Gables orchard, but were now resting from their labors in a sunny corner, where airy fleets of thistledown drifted by on the wings of a wind that was still summer-sweet with the incense of fe...

Anne Shirley was curled up on The window-seat of Theodora Dix's sitting-room one Saturday evening, looking dreamily afar at some fair starland beyond The hills of sunset. Anne was visiting for a fortnight of her vacation at Echo Lodge, where Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Irving were spending The summer, and she often ran over to The old Dix homestead to ...

The Story Girl said that once upon a time. Felix and I, on The May morning when we left Toronto for Prince Edward Island, had not Then heard her say it, and, indeed, were but barely aware of The existence of such a person as The Story Girl. We did not know her at all under that name. We knew only that a cousin, Sara Stanley, whose mOther, our Au...

It was a clear, apple-green evening in May, and Four Winds Harbour was mirroring back The clouds of The golden west between its softly dark shores. The sea moaned eerily on The sand-bar, sorrowful even in spring, but a sly, jovial wind came piping down The red harbour road along which Miss Cornelia's comfortable, matronly figure was making its w...

It was The forenoon of a hazy, breathless day, and Dan Phillips was trouting up one of The back creeks of The Carleton pond. It was somewhat cooler up The creek than out on The main body of water, for The tall birches and willows, crowding down to The brim, threw cool, green shadows across it and shut out The scorching glare, while a stray breez...

You might as well try to move The rock of Gibraltar as attempt to change Uncle Abimelech's mind when it is once made up, said Murray gloomily. Murray is like dear old Dad; he gets discouraged raTher easily. Now, I'm not like that; I'm more like MOther's folks. As Uncle Abimelech has never failed to tell me when I have annoyed him, I'm ""all Fost...