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1With this Matthew's companion stopped talking, partly because she was out of breath and partly because they had reached
2the buggy. Not another word did she say until they had left the village and were driving down a steep little hill, the
3road part of which had been cut so deeply into the soft soil that the banks, fringed with blooming wild cherry-trees and
4slim white birches, were several feet above their heads. The child put out her hand and broke off a branch of wild plum
5that brushed against the side of the buggy. "Isn't that beautiful? What did that tree, leaning out from the bank, all
6white and lacy, make you think of?" she asked. "Well now, I dunno," said Matthew. "Why, a bride, of course--a bride all
7in white with a lovely misty veil. I've never seen one, but I can imagine what she would look like. I don't ever expect
8to be a bride myself. I'm so homely nobody will ever want to marry me--unless it might be a foreign missionary. I
9suppose a foreign missionary mightn't be very particular. But I do hope that some day I shall have a white dress. That
10is my highest ideal of earthly bliss. I just love pretty clothes. And I've never had a pretty dress in my life that I
11can remember--but of course it's all the more to look forward to, isn't it? And then I can imagine that I'm dressed
12gorgeously. This morning when I left the asylum I felt so ashamed because I had to wear this horrid old wincey dress.
13All the orphans had to wear them, you know. A merchant in Hopeton last winter donated three hundred yards of wincey to
14the asylum. Some people said it was because he couldn't sell it, but I'd rather believe that it was out of the kindness
15of his heart, wouldn't you? When we got on the train I felt as if everybody must be looking at me and pitying me. But I
16just went to work and imagined that I had on the most beautiful pale blue silk dress--because when you are imagining you
17might as well imagine something worth while--and a big hat all flowers and nodding plumes, and a gold watch, and kid
18gloves and boots. I felt cheered up right away and I enjoyed my trip to the Island with all my might. I wasn't a bit
19sick coming over in the boat. Neither was Mrs. Spencer, although she generally is. She said she hadn't time to get sick,
20watching to see that I didn't fall overboard. She said she never saw the beat of me for prowling about. But if it kept
21her from being seasick it's a mercy I did prowl, isn't it? And I wanted to see everything that was to be seen on that
22boat, because I didn't know whether I'd ever have another opportunity. Oh, there are a lot more cherry-trees all in
23bloom! This Island is the bloomiest place. I just love it already, and I'm so glad I'm going to live here. I've always
24heard that Prince Edward Island was the prettiest place in the world, and I used to imagine I was living here, but I
25never really expected I would. It's delightful when your imaginations come true, isn't it? But those red roads are so
26funny. When we got into the train at Charlottetown and the red roads began to flash past I asked Mrs. Spencer what made
27them red and she said she didn't know and for pity's sake not to ask her any more questions. She said I must have asked
28her a thousand already. I suppose I had, too, but how are you going to find out about things if you don't ask questions?
29And what does make the roads red?" "Well now, I dunno," said Matthew. "Well, that is one of the things to find out
30sometime. Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be
31alive--it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we knew all about everything, would it?
32There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there? But am I talking too much? People are always telling me I do.
33Would you rather I didn't talk? If you say so I'll stop. I can stop when I make up my mind to it, although it's
34difficult." Matthew, much to his own surprise, was enjoying himself. Like most quiet folks he liked talkative people
35when they were willing to do the talking themselves and did not expect him to keep up his end of it. But he had never
36expected to enjoy the society of a little girl. Women were bad enough in all conscience, but little girls were worse. He
37detested the way they had of sidling past him timidly, with sidewise glances, as if they expected him to gobble them up
38at a mouthful if they ventured to say a word. That was the Avonlea type of well-bred little girl. But this freckled
39witch was very different, and although he found it rather difficult for his slower intelligence to keep up with her
40brisk mental processes he thought that he "kind of liked her chatter." So he said as shyly as usual: "Oh, you can talk
41as much as you like. I don't mind." "Oh, I'm so glad. I know you and I are going to get along together fine. It's such a
42relief to talk when one wants to and not be told that children should be seen and not heard. I've had that said to me a
43million times if I have once. And people laugh at me because I use big words. But if you have big ideas you have to use
44big words to express them, haven't you?" "Well now, that seems reasonable," said Matthew. "Mrs. Spencer said that my
45tongue must be hung in the middle. But it isn't--it's firmly fastened at one end. Mrs. Spencer said your place was named
46Green Gables. I asked her all about it. And she said there were trees all around it. I was gladder than ever. I just
47love trees. And there weren't any at all about the asylum, only a few poor weeny-teeny things out in front with little
48whitewashed cagey things about them. They just looked like orphans themselves, those trees did. It used to make me want
49to cry to look at them. I used to say to them, 'Oh, you poor little things! If you were out in a great big woods with
50other trees all around you and little mosses and June bells growing over your roots and a brook not far away and birds
51singing in your branches, you could grow, couldn't you? But you can't where you are. I know just exactly how you feel,
52little trees.' I felt sorry to leave them behind this morning. You do get so attached to things like that, don't you? Is
53there a brook anywhere near Green Gables? I forgot to ask Mrs. Spencer that." "Well now, yes, there's one right below
54the house." "Fancy. It's always been one of my dreams to live near a brook. I never expected I would, though. Dreams
55don't often come true, do they? Wouldn't it be nice if they did? But just now I feel pretty nearly perfectly happy. I
56can't feel exactly perfectly happy because--well, what color would you call this?" She twitched one of her long glossy
57braids over her thin shoulder and held it up before Matthew's eyes. Matthew was not used to deciding on the tints of
58ladies' tresses, but in this case there couldn't be much doubt. "It's red, ain't it?" he said. The girl let the braid
59drop back with a sigh that seemed to come from her very toes and to exhale forth all the sorrows of the ages. "Yes, it's
60red," she said resignedly. "Now you see why I can't be perfectly happy. Nobody could who has red hair. I don't mind the
61other things so much--the freckles and the green eyes and my skinniness. I can imagine them away. I can imagine that I
62have a beautiful rose-leaf complexion and lovely starry violet eyes. But I cannot imagine that red hair away. I do my
63best. I think to myself, 'Now my hair is a glorious black, black as the raven's wing.' But all the time I know it is
64just plain red and it breaks my heart. It will be my lifelong sorrow. I read of a girl once in a novel who had a
65lifelong sorrow but it wasn't red hair. Her hair was pure gold rippling back from her alabaster brow. What is an
66alabaster brow? I never could find out. Can you tell me?"
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