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Anne of Avonlea

16.
The Substance of Things Hoped For
"Anne," said Davy appealingly, scrambling up on the shiny, leather-covered sofa in the
Green Gables kitchen, where Anne sat, reading a letter, "Anne, I'm AWFUL hungry.
You've no idea."
"I'll get you a piece of bread and butter in a minute," said Anne absently. Her letter
evidently contained some exciting news, for her cheeks were as pink as the roses on
the big bush outside, and her eyes were as starry as only Anne's eyes could be.
"But I ain't bread and butter hungry," said Davy in a disgusted tone. "I'm plum cake
hungry."
"Oh," laughed Anne, laying down her letter and putting her arm about Davy to give him
a squeeze, "that's a kind of hunger that can be endured very comfortably, Davy-boy.
You know it's one of Marilla's rules that you can't have anything but bread and butter
between meals."
"Well, gimme a piece then . . . please."
Davy had been at last taught to say "please," but he generally tacked it on as an
afterthought. He looked with approval at the generous slice Anne presently brought to
him. "You always put such a nice lot of butter on it, Anne. Marilla spreads it pretty thin. It
slips down a lot easier when there's plenty of butter."
The slice "slipped down" with tolerable ease, judging from its rapid disappearance. Davy
slid head first off the sofa, turned a double somersault on the rug, and then sat up and
announced decidedly,
"Anne, I've made up my mind about heaven. I don't want to go there."
"Why not?" asked Anne gravely.
"Cause heaven is in Simon Fletcher's garret, and I don't like Simon Fletcher."
"Heaven in . . . Simon Fletcher's garret!" gasped Anne, too amazed even to laugh.
"Davy Keith, whatever put such an extraordinary idea into your head?"
"Milty Boulter says that's where it is. It was last Sunday in Sunday School. The lesson
was about Elijah and Elisha, and I up and asked Miss Rogerson where heaven was.
Miss Rogerson looked awful offended. She was cross anyhow, because when she'd
asked us what Elijah left Elisha when he went to heaven Milty Boulter said, 'His old
clo'es,' and us fellows all laughed before we thought. I wish you could think first and do
things afterwards, 'cause then you wouldn't do them. But Milty didn't mean to be
 
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