Anne of Green Gables
XX. A Good Imagination Gone Wrong
Spring had come once more to Green Gables--the beautiful capricious, reluctant
Canadian spring, lingering along through April and May in a succession of sweet, fresh,
chilly days, with pink sunsets and miracles of resurrection and growth. The maples in
Lover's Lane were red budded and little curly ferns pushed up around the Dryad's
Bubble. Away up in the barrens, behind Mr. Silas Sloane's place, the Mayflowers
blossomed out, pink and white stars of sweetness under their brown leaves. All the
school girls and boys had one golden afternoon gathering them, coming home in the
clear, echoing twilight with arms and baskets full of flowery spoil.
"I'm so sorry for people who live in lands where there are no Mayflowers," said Anne.
"Diana says perhaps they have something better, but there couldn't be anything better
than Mayflowers, could there, Marilla? And Diana says if they don't know what they are
like they don't miss them. But I think that is the saddest thing of all. I think it would be
TRAGIC, Marilla, not to know what Mayflowers are like and NOT to miss them. Do you
know what I think Mayflowers are, Marilla? I think they must be the souls of the flowers
that died last summer and this is their heaven. But we had a splendid time today,
Marilla. We had our lunch down in a big mossy hollow by an old well--such a
ROMANTIC spot. Charlie Sloane dared Arty Gillis to jump over it, and Arty did because
he wouldn't take a dare. Nobody would in school. It is very FASHIONABLE to dare. Mr.
Phillips gave all the Mayflowers he found to Prissy Andrews and I heard him to say
`sweets to the sweet.' He got that out of a book, I know; but it shows he has some
imagination. I was offered some Mayflowers too, but I rejected them with scorn. I can't
tell you the person's name because I have vowed never to let it cross my lips. We made
wreaths of the Mayflowers and put them on our hats; and when the time came to go
home we marched in procession down the road, two by two, with our bouquets and
wreaths, singing `My Home on the Hill.' Oh, it was so thrilling, Marilla. All Mr. Silas
Sloane's folks rushed out to see us and everybody we met on the road stopped and
stared after us. We made a real sensation."
"Not much wonder! Such silly doings!" was Marilla's response.
After the Mayflowers came the violets, and Violet Vale was empurpled with them. Anne
walked through it on her way to school with reverent steps and worshiping eyes, as if
she trod on holy ground.
"Somehow," she told Diana, "when I'm going through here I don't really care whether
Gil--whether anybody gets ahead of me in class or not. But when I'm up in school it's all
different and I care as much as ever. There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I
sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it
would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."