"No, I don't want any of your imaginings. Just you stick to bald facts. Begin at the beginning. Where were you born and how old are you?"
"I was eleven last March," said Anne, resigning herself to bald facts with a little sigh.
"And I was born in Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia.
My father's name was Walter Shirley, and he was a teacher in the Bolingbroke High School.
My mother's name was Bertha Shirley.
Aren't Walter and Bertha lovely names? I'm so glad my parents had nice names.
It would be a real disgrace to have a father named-well, say Jedediah, wouldn't it?"
"I guess it doesn't matter what a person's name is as long as he behaves himself," said Marilla, feeling herself called upon to inculcate a good and useful moral.
"Well, I don't know." Anne looked thoughtful.
"I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never been able to believe it.