`` Oh , this is a day left over from Eden , is n't it , Diana ? '' ... and Anne sighed for sheer happiness . `` The air has magic in it . Look at the purple in the cup of the harvest valley , Diana . And oh , do smell the dying fir ! It 's coming up from that little sunny hollow where Mr. Eben Wright has been cutting fence poles . Bliss is it on such a day to be alive ; but to smell dying fir is very heaven . That 's two thirds Wordsworth and one third Anne Shirley . It does n't seem possible that there should be dying fir in heaven , does it ? And yet it does n't seem to me that heaven would be quite perfect if you could n't get a whiff of dead fir as you went through its woods . Perhaps we 'll have the odor there without the death . Yes , I think that will be the way . That delicious aroma must be the souls of the firs ... and of course it will be just souls in heaven . '' `` Trees have n't souls , '' said practical Diana , `` but the smell of dead fir is certainly lovely . I 'm going to make a cushion and fill it with fir needles . You 'd better make one too , Anne . '' `` I think I shall ... and use it for my naps . I 'd be certain to dream I was a dryad or a woodnymph then . But just this minute I 'm well content to be Anne Shirley , Avonlea schoolma'am , driving over a road like this on such a sweet , friendly day . '' `` It 's a lovely day but we have anything but a lovely task before us , '' sighed Diana .
`` Why on earth did you offer to canvass this road , XXXXX ?
Anne Eden Shirley Wright day dryad firs left schoolma'am woodnymph