Picture Dictionary & Books : Free for English Learner!

Here and there a wild plum leaned out from the bank like a white-clad girl tip-toeing to her own reflection.

From the marsh at the head of the pond came the clear, mournfully-sweet chorus of the frogs.

There was a little gray house peering around a white apple orchard on a slope beyond and, although it was not yet quite dark, a light was shining from one of its windows.

"That's Barry's pond," said Matthew.

"Oh, I don't like that name, either. I shall call it-let me see-the Lake of Shining Waters. Yes, that is the right name for it. I know because of the thrill. When I hit on a name that suits exactly it gives me a thrill. Do things ever give you a thrill?"

Matthew ruminated.

"Well now, yes. It always kind of gives me a thrill to see them ugly white grubs that spade up in the cucumber beds. I hate the look of them."

"Oh, I don't think that can be exactly the same kind of a thrill. Do you think it can? There doesn't seem to be much connection between grubs and lakes of shining waters, does there? But why do other people call it Barry's pond?"

"I reckon because Mr. Barry lives up there in that house. Orchard Slope's the name of his place. If it wasn't for that big bush behind it you could see Green Gables from here. But we have to go over the bridge and round by the road, so it's near half a mile further."

"Has Mr. Barry any little girls? Well, not so very little either-about my size."

"He's got one about eleven. Her name is Diana."

"Oh!" with a long indrawing of breath. "What a perfectly lovely name!"

"Well now, I dunno. There's something dreadful heathenish about it, seems to me. I'd ruther Jane or Mary or some sensible name like that. But when Diana was born there was a schoolmaster boarding there and they gave him the naming of her and he called her Diana."

"I wish there had been a schoolmaster like that around when I was born, then.

Oh, here we are at the bridge.

I'm going to shut my eyes tight.

I'm always afraid going over bridges.

I can't help imagining that perhaps just as we get to the middle, they'll crumple up like a jack-knife and nip us.

So I shut my eyes.

But I always have to open them for all when I think we're getting near the middle.

Because, you see, if the bridge DID crumple up I'd want to SEE it crumple.

What a jolly rumble it makes! I always like the rumble part of it.

Isn't it splendid there are so many things to like in this world? There we're over.

Now I'll look back.

Good night, dear Lake of Shining Waters.

Table of Contents