worthier occasion than this. But oh, Marilla, I cannot kill them . . . not even for Mrs. Morgan’s sake. I’ll have to ask John Henry Carter to come over and do it for me.”
“I’ll do it,” volunteered Davy, “if Marilla’ll hold them by the legs, ’cause I guess it’d take both my hands to manage the axe. It’s awful jolly fun to see them hopping about after their heads are cut off.”
“Then I’ll have peas and beans and creamed potatoes and a lettuce salad, for vegetables,” resumed Anne, “and for dessert, lemon pie with whipped cream, and coffee and cheese and lady fingers. I’ll make the pies and lady fingers to-morrow and do up my white muslin dress. And I must tell Diana to-night, for she’ll want to do up hers. Mrs. Morgan’s heroines are nearly always dressed in white muslin, and Diana and I have always resolved that that was what we would wear if we ever met her. It will be such a delicate compliment, don’t you think? Davy, dear, you mustn’t poke peapods into the cracks of the floor. I must ask Mr. and Mrs. Allan and Miss Stacy to dinner, too, for they’re all very anxious to meet Mrs. Morgan. It’s so fortunate she’s coming while Miss Stacy is here. Davy dear, don’t sail the pea-pods in the water bucket . . . go out to the trough. Oh, I do hope it will be fine Thursday, and I think it will, for Uncle Abe said last night when he called at Mr. Harrison’s, that it was going to rain most of this week.”
“That’s a good sign,” agreed Marilla.
