ANNE OF GREEN GABLES COUNTRY 183

Rustico, and Montague, and Montrose . . . But Cavendish is an enchanting spot. It alone breathes the spirit of the red-haired, impish Anne Shirley.

Green Gables is just as Anne saw it in that memor- able first drive with Matthew. It stands back from the road beyond a hollow overlooking the Lake of Shining Waters. Its gables peer inquisitively at visitors who wander around this famous white house with the green trimmings, and try to enter into the spirit of Anne—spelled with an “e.” Here Anne prayed that she might be allowed to remain and that she might grow up to be good-looking. Here she lived—red hair and freckled—like any other Island child, and laughed and dreamed, and wept, and worked. Here Anne dyed her hair—a charming green—and flavoured the cake with anodyne liniment.

At the doorway of Green Gables stands Marilla, ready with a scolding. She will not call Anne “Cor- delia,” since that is not her name; she must say her prayers; she must apologize to Mrs. Lynde; she must scald the dish cloth.

Pass the front lawn, and go down through a field, and you will come to a tiny brook. Go over the plank, and keep your eyes open, for now you are in the Haunted Wood. Through this grove at night, haunted by Anne’s imagination, Marilla forced the red-haired imp to walk to cure the wood of headless creatures and spectres of other kinds. And no one was more surprised than Anne to find that the “white thing” did not carry her off. The punishment worked. Anne declared that she would be satisfied with commonplace things henceforth.

We come back to the house and start again down a leafy path which leads to a large hay-field. This is