ANNE OF GREEN GABLES COUNTRY 167 the bag of money from the hand which rose from the bubbling spring. Here, Marie and her mother dwelt happily together in their woodland home. Here Marie made friends of the timid wood creatures, and sang her song of freedom to the melody of the musical brook. Here she dwelt later, alone and lonely, brooding over her unhappy lot and wondering if there was really a happy hunting ground or if it was a heaven. Here she sold the fishermen favourable winds. Often she left her solitary home and wandered alone on the north shore, but she returned always to this wood-encircled mystic spot. There was something about this place, something which soothed her wild vivacious spirit and gave her a sense of peace and a measure of happiness. Here La Belle Marie dwelt—alone with her forest friends. The birds and tiny animals came to know and trust the gentle Marie, and she, in her turn, revealed them as her best friends. Here from the bot¬ tom of this spring the brave Kaktoogwasee brought up the healing stone of the fair Mineota. But to this spot it never returned . . . Now, everything is different. Mineota's stone is no longer here. The spirit of the beautiful Marie is gone. The spell is broken. 2 There is a lonely cemetery set on a ridge overlooking a sweep of country in the region of the north-east river. At its eastern edge rises a stately statue of granite and marble. Here and there, amid the tangled growth, broken sandstone slabs lie at every conceivable angle, as if disappointed and disillusioned at the thoughtlessness of the generation which forgot to care for their memory. Around the edge, at the back, the