Anne Shirley (アン・シャーリー)

My last year at Redmond has begun.

We fought for graduation honors,

poring over classics

and pounding away at mathematics.

Sometimes we grew tired. Sometimes we felt discouraged.

Come in.

Oh, I've had enough!

Nothing seems worthwhile.

What are you laughing over?

Just looking over some old Story Club yarns.

I wanted some relief, so I dug these out of my trunk.

They are so drenched in tears and tragedy that they are excruciatingly funny.

I'm blue and discouraged myself.

But there's nothing funny about it.

What is the use of living after all, Anne?

You should read this.

"My Graves"?

My masterpiece.

Mr. Harrison would say it's about people I don't know in places I know no better.

Phil would say it's killing— in more sense than one,

for nobody in it can escape being murdered or else dying of a broken heart.

Doesn't it make you laugh?

I'm sure I wanted to wax sentimental.

Although I was surrounded by dear things whether I shed tears or not.

I see that now.

What's this?

Oh, yes. I remember.

It's a little dialogue in a garden blooming with asters and sweet-peas,

between a visiting wild canary and the guardian spirit of the place.

I recall the day I wrote it.

I fell through the roof of the Cobb duck house on Tory Road.

Marilla scolded me something fierce.

I believe I will.

Chapter 23

I Have Learned to Look upon Each Little Hindrance as a Jest and Each Great One as the Foreshadowing of Victory

Thank you.

Three for Stella.

Two for Prissy.

Thank you.

Here is a letter with an Indian stamp for you, Aunt Jimsie.

Who could be writing from India?

One of Auntie's three devotees, no doubt.

There's nothing for you, Anne, except a circular.

And this glorious fat one is for me from Jonas.

Honey, what good thing has happened?

The Youth's Friend has accepted a little sketch I sent them a fortnight ago!

Anne Shirley!

When is it to be published? Did they pay you for it?

They've sent a check for ten dollars,

and the editor writes that he would like to see more of my work.

What was it?

It was an old sketch set in Avonlea.

I rewrote it and sent it in, but I never really thought it could be accepted,

because it had no tragedy, romance, or even a plot.

What are you going to do with that ten dollars?

Let's all go up town and get drunk!

Oh, Phil.

Think of having a real live author at Patty's Place!

It's a great responsibility.

Indeed it is.

Authors are kittle cattle. You never know when or how they will break out.

Yes.

Anne may make copy of us.

Oh, what a horrible thought!

I would never.

I meant that the ability to write for the Press was a great responsibility.

That's marvelous.

But I've only had short pieces accepted yet.

I believe you have a God-given talent.

I don't know about that, but I mean to continue.

I'd like to write better stories.

I'm behind you.

I know you could become a great author.

Thank you.

Look at them mooning.

By the way, shall you be home Saturday afternoon?

Y-Yes.

My mother and sisters are coming to call on you.

What?!

I'm sorry to spring this on you.

N-No,

I shall be glad to see them.

Roy's mother is coming herself?

Well, I suppose it was inevitable.

Anyway, she must view you as a possible member of the clan.

You'll be weighed in the balance, Anne.

Phil, is that any way to put it?

It's all right.

I shall not try to make a good impression.

I shall just be myself.

Tomorrow is Saturday.

What shall I wear to meet them?

This is Roy's mother, remember. You'd better dress good and proper.

You're probably right.

Stella, tidy up a bit.

The place looks a mess.

I can't help it.

I can't write so much as one page of a report any other way.

Should I do my hair up high, do you think?

There! That's the chocolate cake done!

My, but that does look good.

Come on, Anne. Stop brooding and come to tea.

All right.

That smells divine.

Doesn't it?

And here I spent half a day baking it!

Don't worry. I have room for more.

Anne, get a dishcloth from the kitchen.

All right.

Would you answer that, Stella?

It must be the new hat I ordered.

Then you answer it.

I'm at an important part.

Oh, fine, then.

Thank you for—

Is this Patty's Place?

Yes.

My name is Gardner.

M-Mrs. Gardner?

Is Miss Anne Shirley at home?

J-Just one moment.

W-We have an emergency! It's Mrs. Gardner.

What?!

Wasn't she coming tomorrow?!

Mrs. Gardner?!

Don't ask me!

Anyway, she's here now!

Anne, hurry and change clothes.

Stella, tidy up that mess!

What about the cake?

Throw that dishcloth over it for now!

Hello. So sorry to keep you waiting.

My name is Philippa Gordon.

I'm Anne Shirley's classmate.

Roy has always been very kind to me.

Well?

Is Miss Anne Shirley at home?

Yes, she'll be with us in a moment.

Wh-Why, here she comes now!

I-It's a pleasure to meet you.

I'm Anne Shirley.

Welcome to Patty's Place.

These are my daughters, Aline and Dorothy.

Pleased to meet you.

The pleasure is mine. I'm Anne.

What now? I must say something.

Um...

What rude creatures!

Joseph! Rusty!

Miss Shirley.

Yes?

You are...

fond of cats?

Well, yes.

I have never liked cats.

Y-You don't say.

I love them!

They are so nice and selfish.

Dogs are too good and unselfish.

But cats are gloriously human.

You hold your tongue.

You have two delightful old china dogs there.

May I look at them closely?

Yes, go ahead.

What breed of dogs are they, I wonder.

I c-couldn't say.

Here, now!

Stop that!

Aline! Are you hurt?

Really, is it any wonder I detest cats?!

Tell me, Miss Shirley.

Y-Yes?

What are your intentions concerning my son?

If—