But sometimes my imagination gets out of hand , too , and I see what you do -- terrible things -- terrible years to come . '' `` I am very thankful that I never had any imagination to speak of , '' said Susan . `` I have been spared that . I see by this paper that the Crown Prince is killed again . Do you suppose there is any hope of his staying dead this time ? And I also see that Woodrow Wilson is going to write another note . I wonder , '' concluded Susan , with the bitter irony she had of late begun to use when referring to the poor President , `` if that man 's schoolmaster is alive . '' In January Jims was five months old and Rilla celebrated the anniversary by shortening him . `` He weighs fourteen pounds , '' she announced jubilantly . `` Just exactly what he should weigh at five months , according to Morgan . '' There was no longer any doubt in anybody 's mind that Jims was getting positively pretty . His little cheeks were round and firm and faintly pink , his eyes were big and bright , his tiny paws had dimples at the root of every finger . He had even begun to grow hair , much to Rilla 's unspoken relief . There was a pale golden fuzz all over his head that was distinctly visible in some lights . He was a good infant , generally sleeping and digesting as Morgan decreed . Occasionally he smiled but he had never laughed , in spite of all efforts to make him . This worried Rilla also , because Morgan said that babies usually laughed aloud from the third to the fifth month . Jims was five months and had no notion of laughing . Why had n't he ? Was n't he normal ?
One night Rilla came home late from a recruiting meeting XXXXX the Glen where she had been giving patriotic recitations .
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