I 've loved her ever since I can remember . When I was a little chap of eight I fell asleep in the garden one evening and was n't missed . I woke up along in the night and I was most scared to death . What shadows and queer noises there was ! I durs n't move . Jest crouched there quaking , poor small mite . Seemed 's if there were n't anyone in the world but meself and it was mighty big . Then all at once I saw the moon looking down at me through the apple boughs , jest like an old friend . I was comforted right off . Got up and walked to the house as brave as a lion , looking at her . Many 's the night I 've watched her from the deck of my vessel , on seas far away from here . Why do n't you folks tell me to take in the slack of my jaw and go home ? '' The laughter of the goodnights died away . Anne and Gilbert walked hand in hand around their garden . The brook that ran across the corner dimpled pellucidly in the shadows of the birches . The poppies along its banks were like shallow cups of moonlight . Flowers that had been planted by the hands of the schoolmaster 's bride flung their sweetness on the shadowy air , like the beauty and blessing of sacred yesterdays . Anne paused in the gloom to gather a spray . `` I love to smell flowers in the dark , '' she said . `` You get hold of their soul then .
Oh , XXXXX , this little house is all I 've dreamed it .
Anne Gilbert evening goodnights meself moon night pellucidly right yesterdays