But it isn't-it's firmly fastened at one end.
Mrs. Spencer said your place was named Green Gables.
I asked her all about it.
And she said there were trees all around it.
I was gladder than ever.
I just love trees.
And there weren't any at all about the asylum, only a few poor weeny-teeny things out in front with little whitewashed cagey things about them.
They just looked like orphans themselves, those trees did.
It used to make me want to cry to look at them.
I used to say to them, 'Oh, you POOR little things! If you were out in a great big woods with other trees all around you and little mosses and Junebells growing over your roots and a brook not far away and birds singing in you branches, you could grow, couldn't you? But you can't where you are.