She had sat up until nearly twelve the preceding night composing a speech she meant to make to her pupils upon opening the school. She had revised and improved it painstakingly3, and then she had learned it off by heart. It was a very good speech and had some very fine ideas in it, especially about mutual5 help and earnest striving after knowledge. The only trouble was that she could not now remember a word of it.
After what seemed to her a year . . . about ten seconds in reality . . . she said faintly, “Take your Testaments7, please,” and sank breathlessly into her chair under cover of the rustle8 and clatter9 of desk lids that followed. While the children read their verses Anne marshalled her shaky wits into order and looked over the array of little pilgrims to the Grownup Land.
Most of them were, of course, quite well known to her. Her own classmates had passed out in the preceding year but the rest had all gone to school with her, excepting the primer class and ten newcomers to Avonlea. Anne secretly felt more interest in these ten than in those whose possibilities were already fairly well mapped out to her. To be sure, they might be just as commonplace as the rest; but on the other hand there MIGHT be a genius among them. It was a thrilling idea.
Sitting by himself at a corner desk was Anthony Pye. He had a dark, sullen10 little face, and was staring at Anne with a hostile expression in his black eyes. Anne instantly made up her mind that she would win that boy’s affection and discomfit11 the Pyes utterly12.
In the other corner another strange boy was sitting with Arty Sloane. . . a jolly looking little chap, with a snub nose, freckled13 face, and big, light blue eyes, fringed with whitish lashes14 . . . probably the DonNELL boy; and if resemblance went for anything, his sister was sitting across the aisle15 with Mary Bell. Anne wondered what sort of mother the child had, to send her to school dressed as she was. She wore a faded pink silk dress, trimmed with a great deal of cotton lace, soiled white kid slippers16, and silk stockings. Her sandy hair was tortured into innumerable kinky and unnatural17 curls, surmounted18 by a flamboyant19 bow of pink ribbon bigger than her head. Judging from her expression she was very well satisfied with herself.
A pale little thing, with smooth ripples20 of fine, silky, fawn-colored hair flowing over her shoulders, must, Anne thought, be Annetta Bell, whose parents had formerly21 lived in the Newbridge school district, but, by reason of hauling their house fifty yards north of its old site were now in Avonlea. Three pallid22 little girls crowded into one seat were certainly Cottons; and there was no doubt that the small beauty with the long brown curls and hazel eyes, who was casting coquettish looks at Jack23 Gills over the edge of her Testament6, was Prillie Rogerson, whose father had recently married a second wife and brought Prillie home from her grandmother’s in Grafton. A tall, awkward girl in a back seat, who seemed to have too many feet and hands, Anne could not place at all, but later on discovered that her name was Barbara Shaw and that she had come to live with an Avonlea aunt. She was also to find that if Barbara ever managed to walk down the aisle without falling over her own or somebody else’s feet the Avonlea scholars wrote the unusual fact up on the porch wall to commemorate24 it.
But when Anne’s eyes met those of the boy at the front desk facing her own, a queer little thrill went over her, as if she had found her genius. She knew this must be Paul Irving and that Mrs. Rachel Lynde had been right for once when she prophesied25 that he would be unlike the Avonlea children. More than that, Anne realized that he was unlike other children anywhere, and that there was a soul subtly akin4 to her own gazing at her out of the very dark blue eyes that were watching her so intently.
She knew Paul was ten but he looked no more than eight. He had the most beautiful little face she had ever seen in a child . . . features of exquisite26 delicacy27 and refinement28, framed in a halo of chestnut29 curls. His mouth was delicious, being full without pouting30, the crimson31 lips just softly touching32 and curving into finely finished little corners that narrowly escaped being dimpled. He had a sober, grave, meditative33 expression, as if his spirit was much older than his body; but when Anne smiled softly at him it vanished in a sudden answering smile, which seemed an illumination of his whole being, as if some lamp had suddenly kindled34 into flame inside of him, irradiating him from top to toe. Best of all, it was involuntary, born of no external effort or motive35, but simply the outflashing of a hidden personality, rare and fine and sweet. With a quick interchange of smiles Anne and Paul were fast friends forever before a word had passed between them.
The day went by like a dream. Anne could never clearly recall it afterwards. It almost seemed as if it were not she who was teaching but somebody else. She heard classes and worked sums and set copies mechanically. The children behaved quite well; only two cases of discipline occurred. Morley Andrews was caught driving a pair of trained crickets in the aisle. Anne stood Morley on the platform for an hour and . . . which Morley felt much more keenly . . . confiscated36 his crickets. She put them in a box and on the way from school set them free in Violet Vale; but Morley believed, then and ever afterwards, that she took them home and kept them for her own amusement.
The other culprit was Anthony Pye, who poured the last drops of water from his slate37 bottle down the back of Aurelia Clay’s neck. Anne kept Anthony in at recess38 and talked to him about what was expected of gentlemen, admonishing39 him that they never poured water down ladies’ necks. She wanted all her boys to be gentlemen, she said. Her little lecture was quite kind and touching; but unfortunately Anthony remained absolutely untouched. He listened to her in silence, with the same sullen expression, and whistled scornfully as he went out. Anne sighed; and then cheered herself up by remembering that winning a Pye’s affections, like the building of Rome, wasn’t the work of a day. In fact, it was doubtful whether some of the Pyes had any affections to win; but Anne hoped better things of Anthony, who looked as if he might be a rather nice boy if one ever got behind his sullenness40.
When school was dismissed and the children had gone Anne dropped wearily into her chair. Her head ached and she felt woefully discouraged. There was no real reason for discouragement, since nothing very dreadful had occurred; but Anne was very tired and inclined to believe that she would never learn to like teaching. And how terrible it would be to be doing something you didn’t like every day for . . . well, say forty years. Anne was of two minds whether to have her cry out then and there, or wait till she was safely in her own white room at home. Before she could decide there was a click of heels and a silken swish on the porch floor, and Anne found herself confronted by a lady whose appearance made her recall a recent criticism of Mr. Harrison’s on an overdressed female he had seen in a Charlottetown store. “She looked like a head-on collision between a fashion plate and a nightmare.”
The newcomer was gorgeously arrayed in a pale blue summer silk, puffed42, frilled, and shirred wherever puff41, frill, or shirring could possibly be placed. Her head was surmounted by a huge white chiffon hat, bedecked with three long but rather stringy ostrich43 feathers. A veil of pink chiffon, lavishly44 sprinkled with huge black dots, hung like a flounce from the hat brim to her shoulders and floated off in two airy streamers behind her. She wore all the jewelry45 that could be crowded on one small woman, and a very strong odor of perfume attended her.
“I am Mrs. DonNELL . . . Mrs. H. B. DonNELL,” announced this vision, “and I have come in to see you about something Clarice Almira told me when she came home to dinner today. It annoyed me EXCESSIVELY.”
“I’m sorry,” faltered46 Anne, vainly trying to recollect47 any incident of the morning connected with the Donnell children.
“Clarice Almira told me that you pronounced our name DONnell. Now, Miss Shirley, the correct pronunciation of our name is DonNELL . . . accent on the last syllable48. I hope you’ll remember this in future.”
“I’ll try to,” gasped49 Anne, choking back a wild desire to laugh. “I know by experience that it’s very unpleasant to have one’s name SPELLED wrong and I suppose it must be even worse to have it pronounced wrong.”
“Certainly it is. And Clarice Almira also informed me that you call my son Jacob.”
“He told me his name was Jacob,” protested Anne.
“I might well have expected that,” said Mrs. H. B. Donnell, in a tone which implied that gratitude50 in children was not to be looked for in this degenerate51 age. “That boy has such plebeian52 tastes, Miss Shirley. When he was born I wanted to call him St. Clair . . . it sounds SO aristocratic, doesn’t it? But his father insisted he should be called Jacob after his uncle. I yielded, because Uncle Jacob was a rich old bachelor. And what do you think, Miss Shirley? When our innocent boy was five years old Uncle Jacob actually went and got married and now he has three boys of his own. Did you ever hear of such ingratitude53? The moment the invitation to the wedding . . . for he had the impertinence to send us an invitation, Miss Shirley . . . came to the house I said, ‘No more Jacobs for me, thank you.’ From that day I called my son St. Clair and St. Clair I am determined54 he shall be called. His father obstinately55 continues to call him Jacob, and the boy himself has a perfectly56 unaccountable preference for the vulgar name. But St. Clair he is and St. Clair he shall remain. You will kindly57 remember this, Miss Shirley, will you not? THANK you. I told Clarice Almira that I was sure it was only a misunderstanding and that a word would set it right. Donnell. . . accent on the last syllable . . . and St. Clair . . . on no account Jacob. You’ll remember? THANK you.”
When Mrs. H. B. DonNELL had skimmed away Anne locked the school door and went home. At the foot of the hill she found Paul Irving by the Birch Path. He held out to her a cluster of the dainty little wild orchids58 which Avonlea children called “rice lillies.”
“Please, teacher, I found these in Mr. Wright’s field,” he said shyly, “and I came back to give them to you because I thought you were the kind of lady that would like them, and because . . .” he lifted his big beautiful eyes . . . “I like you, teacher.”
“You darling,” said Anne, taking the fragrant59 spikes60. As if Paul’s words had been a spell of magic, discouragement and weariness passed from her spirit, and hope upwelled in her heart like a dancing fountain. She went through the Birch Path light-footedly, attended by the sweetness of her orchids as by a benediction61.
“Well, how did you get along?” Marilla wanted to know.
“Ask me that a month later and I may be able to tell you. I can’t now . . . I don’t know myself . . . I’m too near it. My thoughts feel as if they had been all stirred up until they were thick and muddy. The only thing I feel really sure of having accomplished62 today is that I taught Cliffie Wright that A is A. He never knew it before. Isn’t it something to have started a soul along a path that may end in Shakespeare and Paradise Lost?”
Mrs. Lynde came up later on with more encouragement. That good lady had waylaid63 the schoolchildren at her gate and demanded of them how they liked their new teacher.
“And every one of them said they liked you splendid, Anne, except Anthony Pye. I must admit he didn’t. He said you ‘weren’t any good, just like all girl teachers.’ There’s the Pye leaven64 for you. But never mind.”
“I’m not going to mind,” said Anne quietly, “and I’m going to make Anthony Pye like me yet. Patience and kindness will surely win him.”
“Well, you can never tell about a Pye,” said Mrs. Rachel cautiously. “They go by contraries, like dreams, often as not. As for that DonNELL woman, she’ll get no DonNELLing from me, I can assure you. The name is DONnell and always has been. The woman is crazy, that’s what. She has a pug dog she calls Queenie and it has its meals at the table along with the family, eating off a china plate. I’d be afraid of a judgment65 if I was her. Thomas says Donnell himself is a sensible, hard-working man, but he hadn’t much gumption66 when he picked out a wife, that’s what.”
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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painstakingly
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| adv. 费力地 苦心地 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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testaments
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| n.遗嘱( testament的名词复数 )；实际的证明 | |
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8
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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discomfit
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| v.使困惑，使尴尬 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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15
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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flamboyant
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| adj.火焰般的，华丽的，炫耀的 | |
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ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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23
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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24
commemorate
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| vt.纪念，庆祝 | |
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prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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pouting
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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32
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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34
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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confiscated
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| 没收，充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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38
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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39
admonishing
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| v.劝告( admonish的现在分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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40
sullenness
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| n. 愠怒, 沉闷, 情绪消沉 | |
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41
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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42
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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43
ostrich
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| n.鸵鸟 | |
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lavishly
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| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
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jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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46
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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47
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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48
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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49
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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50
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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51
degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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52
plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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53
ingratitude
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| n.忘恩负义 | |
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54
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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55
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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56
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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57
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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orchids
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| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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60
spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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61
benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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62
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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63
waylaid
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| v.拦截，拦路( waylay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
leaven
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| v.使发酵；n.酵母；影响 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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gumption
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| n.才干 | |
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