Picture Dictionary & Books : Free for English Learner!

Anne flew to the door, face alight, eyes glowing. On the very threshold she stopped short, wheeled about, came back and sat down by the table, light and glow as effectually blotted out as if some one had clapped an extinguisher on her.

"What's the matter now?" demanded Marilla.

"I don't dare go out," said Anne, in the tone of a martyr relinquishing all earthly joys.

"If I can't stay here there is no use in my loving Green Gables.

And if I go out there and get acquainted with all those trees and flowers and the orchard and the brook I'll not be able to help loving it.

It's hard enough now, so I won't make it any harder.

I want to go out so much-everything seems to be calling to me, 'Anne, Anne, come out to us.

Anne, Anne, we want a playmate'-but it's better not.

There is no use in loving things if you have to be torn from them, is there? And it's so hard to keep from loving things, isn't it? That was why I was so glad when I thought I was going to live here.

I thought I'd have so many things to love and nothing to hinder me.

But that brief dream is over.

I am resigned to my fate now, so I don't think I'll go out for fear I'll get unresigned again.

What is the name of that geranium on the window-sill, please?"

"That's the apple-scented geranium."

"Oh, I don't mean that sort of a name. I mean just a name you gave it yourself. Didn't you give it a name? May I give it one then? May I call it-let me see-Bonny would do-may I call it Bonny while I'm here? Oh, do let me!"

"Goodness, I don't care. But where on earth is the sense of naming a geranium?"

"Oh, I like things to have handles even if they are only geraniums.

It makes them seem more like people.

How do you know but that it hurts a geranium's feelings just to be called a geranium and nothing else? You wouldn't like to be called nothing but a woman all the time.

Yes, I shall call it Bonny.

I named that cherry-tree outside my bedroom window this morning.

I called it Snow Queen because it was so white.

Of course, it won't always be in blossom, but one can imagine that it is, can't one?"

"I never in all my life saw or heard anything to equal her," muttered Marilla, beating a retreat down to the cellar after potatoes.

"She is kind of interesting as Matthew says.

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