"Anne, you are the most exasperating girl!
What is it that you've done?" Marilla exclaimed.
"I've sold Mr. Harrison's cow to Mr. Shearer!
Dolly is out in the milking pen this very minute," Anne said.
"Anne Shirley, are you dreaming?" asked Marilla.
"I wish I were," said Anne. "But I feel like I'm having a nightmare.
Mr. Harrison's cow is on the other side of the island by now. What can I do?"
"Anne, you must tell Mr. Harrison right now," Marilla said sternly.
"I'm sure he'll be awfully angry," said Anne.
"He probably will," said Marilla. "I suppose I can talk to him."
"No," exclaimed Anne. "It's my fault—I'll go."
As Anne left she saw a cake she had baked that morning.
She decided to take it with her as a peace offering.
Mr. Harrison was sitting on his veranda, enjoying his evening pipe.
When he saw Anne, he sprang to his feet, ran into the house, and shut the door.
"If he was angry before, he'll be full of rage when he hears what I've done," Anne thought miserably.
Anne knocked on the door, and Mr. Harrison opened it.
Surprisingly, he spoke in a friendly, though nervous, tone and invited Anne inside.
Mr. Harrison politely offered Anne a dusty chair.
Everything was quite pleasant until Ginger the parrot exclaimed, "Who's that redheaded smarty-pants?"
It was hard to say whose face went redder: Mr. Harrison's or Anne's.
"Don't mind that parrot," said Mr. Harrison, casting a furious glance at Ginger.
"He's . . . he's always talking nonsense. I got him from my brother who was a sailor."
"That's all right," murmured Anne. "Mr. Harrison, I have something to confess. It's about the cow."
"Was that cow in my oats again? Well, never mind," Mr. Harrison said.
"I was too angry yesterday. Sometimes I have a bad temper.
The oats will be all right, I'm sure."
"Actually, it's ten times worse," Anne said.
"Was the cow in my wheat?" asked Mr. Harrison.
"No, not the wheat," Anne replied.
"The cabbages?" asked Mr. Harrison. "My prize cabbages?"
"No, Mr. Harrison," said Anne anxiously. "I . . . I've sold your cow.
It was an accident and I'm very, very sorry." Anne then explained what had happened.
"Well," said Mr. Harrison slowly, "accidents happen, and I will take Dolly in exchange."
Anne breathed a sigh of relief and smiled meekly. "Would you like some cake?"
And so began the unlikely friendship of Mr. Harrison and Anne.
A few days later, Anne, Gilbert Blythe, and Jane Andrews were walking together.
The next day they would all start their new jobs as teachers.
They were discussing how bad students should be punished.
"I could never hit a child," Anne said passionately.
"Miss Stacy never hit anyone, and she had perfect order when she taught us.
Mr. Phillips hit students all the time, and he never had order!"
"But what if the children don't obey?
I think it's a good punishment," said Jane. "What do you think, Gilbert?"
"Well," Gilbert said slowly. He agreed with Jane, but he wanted Anne's approval.
"I don't believe in hitting children much—maybe just as a last resort."
Anne and Jane both scowled at him.
Gilbert had tried to please both and, as a result, he had pleased nobody.
When Anne entered the classroom of the Avonlea School the next morning, she was confronted by rows of shining faces with bright, inquisitive eyes.
Anne hoped she did not look as frightened and foolish as she felt.
She had stayed up almost until midnight composing a speech for her students. She opened her mouth to begin.
Even though it was a good speech with some very fine ideas, especially about cooperation and the joy of learning, Anne could not remember a word of it.
After what seemed to her a year—about ten seconds in reality—Anne said faintly, "Take out your English books, please," and sat down.
Anne looked at her new students as they read the first chapter.
She knew most of them because, only a year ago, she had been a student herself and had gone to school with them.
There were also ten new students. Sitting at a corner desk was Anthony Pye.
He had a dark, sullen little face and was staring at Anne with a hostile expression.
Three pale little girls, all crowded into one seat, were from the Cotton family.
A handsome little boy sat in the front of the room.
Anne thought he must be Paul Irving, whose father had once lived in Avonlea.
When Paul's mother died, Paul had come to Avonlea to live with his grandmother.
Anne and Paul smiled at each other, and Anne felt that each had recognized a kindred spirit in the other.
Throughout the day the children behaved quite well; only two cases of discipline occurred.
Morley Andrews was caught with a pair of crickets.
Anne confiscated the crickets and made Morley stand on the lecture platform for an hour.
She put the crickets in a box and later set them free.
However, from that day on, Morley always believed Anne had taken them home and kept them as pets.
The other culprit was Anthony Pye, who poured water down the back of the youngest Cotton girl's neck.
Anne gave Anthony a lecture that was quite kind and touching, but Anthony remained unfazed and whistled scornfully when she finished.
At three o'clock Anne rang the bell and watched her students go home.
She resolved to love all of them, even Anthony Pye.