Diana untied the pony and drove into the shed , just as the first heavy drops of rain fell . There she sat and watched the resulting downpour , which was so thick and heavy that she could hardly see Anne through it , holding the parasol bravely over her bare head . There was not a great deal of thunder , but for the best part of an hour the rain came merrily down . Occasionally Anne slanted back her parasol and waved an encouraging hand to her friend ; But conversation at that distance was quite out of the question . Finally the rain ceased , the sun came out , and Diana ventured across the puddles of the yard . `` Did you get very wet ? '' she asked anxiously . `` Oh , no , '' returned Anne cheerfully . `` My head and shoulders are quite dry and my skirt is only a little damp where the rain beat through the lathes . Do n't pity me , Diana , for I have n't minded it at all . I kept thinking how much good the rain will do and how glad my garden must be for it , and imagining what the flowers and buds would think when the drops began to fall . I imagined out a most interesting dialogue between the asters and the sweet peas and the wild canaries in the lilac bush and the guardian spirit of the garden . When I go home I mean to write it down . I wish I had a pencil and paper to do it now , because I daresay I 'll forget the best parts before I reach home . '' Diana the faithful had a pencil and discovered a sheet of wrapping paper in the box of the buggy . Anne folded up her dripping parasol , put on her hat , spread the wrapping paper on a shingle Diana handed up , and wrote out her garden idyl under conditions that could hardly be considered as favorable to literature . Nevertheless , the result was quite pretty , and Diana was `` enraptured '' when Anne read it to her . `` Oh , Anne , it 's sweet ... just sweet . DO send it to the ` Canadian Woman . ' '' Anne shook her head .
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