Anne of Avonlea

by L. M. Montgomery

  XVIII

  An Adventure on the Tory Road

  "Anne," said Davy, sitting up in bed and propping his chin on his hands,"Anne, where is sleep? People go to sleep every night, and of course Iknow it's the place where I do the things I dream, but I want to knowWHERE it is and how I get there and back without knowing anything aboutit . . . and in my nighty too. Where is it?"

  Anne was kneeling at the west gable window watching the sunset skythat was like a great flower with petals of crocus and a heart of fieryyellow. She turned her head at Davy's question and answered dreamily,

  "'Over the mountains of the moon, Down the valley of the shadow.'"

  Paul Irving would have known the meaning of this, or made a meaning outof it for himself, if he didn't; but practical Davy, who, as Anneoften despairingly remarked, hadn't a particle of imagination, was onlypuzzled and disgusted.

  "Anne, I believe you're just talking nonsense."

  "Of course, I was, dear boy. Don't you know that it is only very foolishfolk who talk sense all the time?"

  "Well, I think you might give a sensible answer when I ask a sensiblequestion," said Davy in an injured tone.

  "Oh, you are too little to understand," said Anne. But she felt ratherashamed of saying it; for had she not, in keen remembrance of manysimilar snubs administered in her own early years, solemnly vowed thatshe would never tell any child it was too little to understand? Yet hereshe was doing it . . . so wide sometimes is the gulf between theory andpractice.

  "Well, I'm doing my best to grow," said Davy, "but it's a thing youcan't hurry much. If Marilla wasn't so stingy with her jam I believe I'dgrow a lot faster."

  "Marilla is not stingy, Davy," said Anne severely. "It is veryungrateful of you to say such a thing."

  "There's another word that means the same thing and sounds a lot better,but I don't just remember it," said Davy, frowning intently. "I heardMarilla say she was it, herself, the other day."

  "If you mean ECONOMICAL, it's a VERY different thing from being stingy.It is an excellent trait in a person if she is economical. If Marillahad been stingy she wouldn't have taken you and Dora when your motherdied. Would you have liked to live with Mrs. Wiggins?"

  "You just bet I wouldn't!" Davy was emphatic on that point. "Nor I don'twant to go out to Uncle Richard neither. I'd far rather live here, evenif Marilla is that long-tailed word when it comes to jam, 'cause YOU'REhere, Anne. Say, Anne, won't you tell me a story 'fore I go to sleep? Idon't want a fairy story. They're all right for girls, I s'pose, but Iwant something exciting . . . lots of killing and shooting in it, and ahouse on fire, and in'trusting things like that."

  Fortunately for Anne, Marilla called out at this moment from her room.

  "Anne, Diana's signaling at a great rate. You'd better see what shewants."

  Anne ran to the east gable and saw flashes of light coming through thetwilight from Diana's window in groups of five, which meant, accordingto their old childish code, "Come over at once for I have somethingimportant to reveal." Anne threw her white shawl over her head andhastened through the Haunted Wood and across Mr. Bell's pasture cornerto Orchard Slope.

  "I've good news for you, Anne," said Diana. "Mother and I have justgot home from Carmody, and I saw Mary Sentner from Spencer vale inMr. Blair's store. She says the old Copp girls on the Tory Road have awillow-ware platter and she thinks it's exactly like the one we had atthe supper. She says they'll likely sell it, for Martha Copp has neverbeen known to keep anything she COULD sell; but if they won't there's aplatter at Wesley Keyson's at Spencervale and she knows they'd sell it,but she isn't sure it's just the same kind as Aunt Josephine's."

  "I'll go right over to Spencervale after it tomorrow," said Anneresolutely, "and you must come with me. It will be such a weight offmy mind, for I have to go to town day after tomorrow and how can I faceyour Aunt Josephine without a willow-ware platter? It would be evenworse than the time I had to confess about jumping on the spare roombed."

  Both girls laughed over the old memory . . . concerning which, if any ofmy readers are ignorant and curious, I must refer them to Anne's earlierhistory.

  The next afternoon the girls fared forth on their platter huntingexpedition. It was ten miles to Spencervale and the day was notespecially pleasant for traveling. It was very warm and windless, andthe dust on the road was such as might have been expected after sixweeks of dry weather.

  "Oh, I do wish it would rain soon," sighed Anne. "Everything is soparched up. The poor fields just seem pitiful to me and the trees seemto be stretching out their hands pleading for rain. As for my garden, ithurts me every time I go into it. I suppose I shouldn't complain abouta garden when the farmers' crops are suffering so. Mr. Harrison says hispastures are so scorched up that his poor cows can hardly get a bite toeat and he feels guilty of cruelty to animals every time he meets theireyes."

  After a wearisome drive the girls reached Spencervale and turned downthe "Tory" Road . . . a green, solitary highway where the strips of grassbetween the wheel tracks bore evidence to lack of travel. Along most ofits extent it was lined with thick-set young spruces crowding downto the roadway, with here and there a break where the back field ofa Spencervale farm came out to the fence or an expanse of stumps wasaflame with fireweed and goldenrod.

  "Why is it called the Tory Road?" asked Anne.

  "Mr. Allan says it is on the principle of calling a place a grovebecause there are no trees in it," said Diana, "for nobody lives alongthe road except the Copp girls and old Martin Bovyer at the further end,who is a Liberal. The Tory government ran the road through when theywere in power just to show they were doing something."

  Diana's father was a Liberal, for which reason she and Anne neverdiscussed politics. Green Gables folk had always been Conservatives.

  Finally the girls came to the old Copp homestead . . . a place of suchexceeding external neatness that even Green Gables would have sufferedby contrast. The house was a very old-fashioned one, situated on aslope, which fact had necessitated the building of a stone basementunder one end. The house and out-buildings were all whitewashed to acondition of blinding perfection and not a weed was visible in the primkitchen garden surrounded by its white paling.

  "The shades are all down," said Diana ruefully. "I believe that nobodyis home."

  This proved to be the case. The girls looked at each other inperplexity.

  "I don't know what to do," said Anne. "If I were sure the platter wasthe right kind I would not mind waiting until they came home. But if itisn't it may be too late to go to Wesley Keyson's afterward."

  Diana looked at a certain little square window over the basement.

  "That is the pantry window, I feel sure," she said, "because this houseis just like Uncle Charles' at Newbridge, and that is their pantrywindow. The shade isn't down, so if we climbed up on the roof of thatlittle house we could look into the pantry and might be able to see theplatter. Do you think it would be any harm?"

  "No, I don't think so," decided Anne, after due reflection, "since ourmotive is not idle curiosity."

  This important point of ethics being settled, Anne prepared to mount theaforesaid "little house," a construction of lathes, with a peaked roof,which had in times past served as a habitation for ducks. The Copp girlshad given up keeping ducks . . . "because they were such untidy birds". .. and the house had not been in use for some years, save as an abode ofcorrection for setting hens. Although scrupulously whitewashed it hadbecome somewhat shaky, and Anne felt rather dubious as she scrambled upfrom the vantage point of a keg placed on a box.

  "I'm afraid it won't bear my weight," she said as she gingerly steppedon the roof.

  "Lean on the window sill," advised Diana, and Anne accordingly leaned.Much to her delight, she saw, as she peered through the pane, awillow-ware platter, exactly such as she was in quest of, on the shelfin front of the window. So much she saw before the catastrophe came. Inher joy Anne forgot the precarious nature of her footing, incautiouslyceased to lean on the window
sill, gave an impulsive little hop ofpleasure . . . and the next moment she had crashed through the roof upto her armpits, and there she hung, quite unable to extricate herself.Diana dashed into the duck house and, seizing her unfortunate friend bythe waist, tried to draw her down.

  "Ow . . . don't," shrieked poor Anne. "There are some long splinterssticking into me. See if you can put something under my feet . . . thenperhaps I can draw myself up."

  Diana hastily dragged in the previously mentioned keg and Anne foundthat it was just sufficiently high to furnish a secure resting place forher feet. But she could not release herself.

  "Could I pull you out if I crawled up?" suggested Diana.

  Anne shook her head hopelessly.

  "No . . . the splinters hurt too badly. If you can find an axe you mightchop me out, though. Oh dear, I do really begin to believe that I wasborn under an ill-omened star."

  Diana searched faithfully but no axe was to be found.

  "I'll have to go for help," she said, returning to the prisoner.

  "No, indeed, you won't," said Anne vehemently. "If you do the story ofthis will get out everywhere and I shall be ashamed to show my face.No, we must just wait until the Copp girls come home and bind themto secrecy. They'll know where the axe is and get me out. I'm notuncomfortable, as long as I keep perfectly still . . . not uncomfortablein BODY I mean. I wonder what the Copp girls value this house at. Ishall have to pay for the damage I've done, but I wouldn't mind that ifI were only sure they would understand my motive in peeping in at theirpantry window. My sole comfort is that the platter is just the kind Iwant and if Miss Copp will only sell it to me I shall be resigned towhat has happened."

  "What if the Copp girls don't come home until after night . . . or tilltomorrow?" suggested Diana.

  "If they're not back by sunset you'll have to go for other assistance,I suppose," said Anne reluctantly, "but you mustn't go until you reallyhave to. Oh dear, this is a dreadful predicament. I wouldn't mind mymisfortunes so much if they were romantic, as Mrs. Morgan's heroines'always are, but they are always just simply ridiculous. Fancy what theCopp girls will think when they drive into their yard and see a girl'shead and shoulders sticking out of the roof of one of their outhouses.Listen . . . is that a wagon? No, Diana, I believe it is thunder."

  Thunder it was undoubtedly, and Diana, having made a hasty pilgrimagearound the house, returned to announce that a very black cloud wasrising rapidly in the northwest.

  "I believe we're going to have a heavy thunder-shower," she exclaimed indismay, "Oh, Anne, what will we do?"

  "We must prepare for it," said Anne tranquilly. A thunderstorm seemed atrifle in comparison with what had already happened. "You'd better drivethe horse and buggy into that open shed. Fortunately my parasol is inthe buggy. Here . . . take my hat with you. Marilla told me I was a gooseto put on my best hat to come to the Tory Road and she was right, as shealways is."

  Diana untied the pony and drove into the shed, just as the first heavydrops of rain fell. There she sat and watched the resulting downpour,which was so thick and heavy that she could hardly see Anne through it,holding the parasol bravely over her bare head. There was not a greatdeal of thunder, but for the best part of an hour the rain camemerrily down. Occasionally Anne slanted back her parasol and waved anencouraging hand to her friend; But conversation at that distance wasquite out of the question. Finally the rain ceased, the sun came out,and Diana ventured across the puddles of the yard.

  "Did you get very wet?" she asked anxiously.

  "Oh, no," returned Anne cheerfully. "My head and shoulders are quitedry and my skirt is only a little damp where the rain beat through thelathes. Don't pity me, Diana, for I haven't minded it at all. I keptthinking how much good the rain will do and how glad my garden must befor it, and imagining what the flowers and buds would think when thedrops began to fall. I imagined out a most interesting dialogue betweenthe asters and the sweet peas and the wild canaries in the lilac bushand the guardian spirit of the garden. When I go home I mean to writeit down. I wish I had a pencil and paper to do it now, because I daresayI'll forget the best parts before I reach home."

  Diana the faithful had a pencil and discovered a sheet of wrapping paperin the box of the buggy. Anne folded up her dripping parasol, put on herhat, spread the wrapping paper on a shingle Diana handed up, and wroteout her garden idyl under conditions that could hardly be considered asfavorable to literature. Nevertheless, the result was quite pretty, andDiana was "enraptured" when Anne read it to her.

  "Oh, Anne, it's sweet . . . just sweet. DO send it to the 'CanadianWoman.'"

  Anne shook her head.

  "Oh, no, it wouldn't be suitable at all. There is no PLOT in it, yousee. It's just a string of fancies. I like writing such things, but ofcourse nothing of the sort would ever do for publication, for editorsinsist on plots, so Priscilla says. Oh, there's Miss Sarah Copp now.PLEASE, Diana, go and explain."

  Miss Sarah Copp was a small person, garbed in shabby black, with a hatchosen less for vain adornment than for qualities that would wear well.She looked as amazed as might be expected on seeing the curioustableau in her yard, but when she heard Diana's explanation she was allsympathy. She hurriedly unlocked the back door, produced the axe, andwith a few skillfull blows set Anne free. The latter, somewhat tiredand stiff, ducked down into the interior of her prison and thankfullyemerged into liberty once more.

  "Miss Copp," she said earnestly. "I assure you I looked into your pantrywindow only to discover if you had a willow-ware platter. I didn't seeanything else--I didn't LOOK for anything else."

  "Bless you, that's all right," said Miss Sarah amiably. "You needn'tworry--there's no harm done. Thank goodness, we Copps keep our pantriespresentable at all times and don't care who sees into them. As for thatold duckhouse, I'm glad it's smashed, for maybe now Martha will agree tohaving it taken down. She never would before for fear it might come inhandy sometime and I've had to whitewash it every spring. But you mightas well argue with a post as with Martha. She went to town today--Idrove her to the station. And you want to buy my platter. Well, whatwill you give for it?"

  "Twenty dollars," said Anne, who was never meant to match business witswith a Copp, or she would not have offered her price at the start.

  "Well, I'll see," said Miss Sarah cautiously. "That platter is minefortunately, or I'd never dare to sell it when Martha wasn't here. Asit is, I daresay she'll raise a fuss. Martha's the boss of thisestablishment I can tell you. I'm getting awful tired of living underanother woman's thumb. But come in, come in. You must be real tired andhungry. I'll do the best I can for you in the way of tea but I warn younot to expect anything but bread and butter and some cowcumbers. Marthalocked up all the cake and cheese and preserves afore she went. Shealways does, because she says I'm too extravagant with them if companycomes."

  The girls were hungry enough to do justice to any fare, and they enjoyedMiss Sarah's excellent bread and butter and "cowcumbers" thoroughly.When the meal was over Miss Sarah said,

  "I don't know as I mind selling the platter. But it's worth twenty-fivedollars. It's a very old platter."

  Diana gave Anne's foot a gentle kick under the table, meaning, "Don'tagree--she'll let it go for twenty if you hold out." But Anne was notminded to take any chances in regard to that precious platter. Shepromptly agreed to give twenty-five and Miss Sarah looked as if she feltsorry she hadn't asked for thirty.

  "Well, I guess you may have it. I want all the money I can scare up justnow. The fact is--" Miss Sarah threw up her head importantly, with aproud flush on her thin cheeks--"I'm going to be married--to LutherWallace. He wanted me twenty years ago. I liked him real well but he waspoor then and father packed him off. I s'pose I shouldn't have let himgo so meek but I was timid and frightened of father. Besides, I didn'tknow men were so skurse."

  When the girls were safely away, Diana driving and Anne holdingthe coveted platter carefully on her lap, the green, rain-freshenedsolitudes of the Tory Road were enlivened by ripples
of girlishlaughter.

  "I'll amuse your Aunt Josephine with the 'strange eventful history' ofthis afternoon when I go to town tomorrow. We've had a rather tryingtime but it's over now. I've got the platter, and that rain has laid thedust beautifully. So 'all's well that ends well.'"

  "We're not home yet," said Diana rather pessimistically, "and there'sno telling what may happen before we are. You're such a girl to haveadventures, Anne."

  "Having adventures comes natural to some people," said Anne serenely."You just have a gift for them or you haven't."