Chapter: |IT was October again when Anne was ready to go back to school--a
glorious October, all red and gold, with mellow mornings when the
valleys were filled with delicate mists as if the spirit of autumn had
poured them in for the sun to drain--amethyst, pearl, silver, rose, and
smoke-blue. The dews were so heavy that the fields glistened like cloth
of silver and there were such heaps of rustling leaves in the hollows of
many-stemmed woods to run crisply through. The Birch Path was a canopy
of yellow and the ferns were sear and brown all along it. There was a
tang in the very air that inspired the hearts of small maidens tripping,
unlike snails, swiftly and willingly to school; and it _was_ jolly to
be back again at the little brown desk beside Diana, with Ruby Gillis
nodding across the aisle and Carrie Sloane sending up notes and Julia
Bell passing a "chew" of gum down from the back seat. Anne drew a long
breath of happiness as she sharpened her pencil and arranged her picture
cards in her desk. Life was certainly very interesting.

In the new teacher she found another true and helpful friend. Miss Stacy
was a bright, sympathetic young woman with the happy gift of winning and
holding the affections of her pupils and bringing out the best that was
in them mentally and morally. Anne expanded like a flower under this
wholesome influence and carried home to the admiring Matthew and the
critical Marilla glowing accounts of schoolwork and aims.

"I love Miss Stacy with my whole heart, Marilla. She is so ladylike
and she has such a sweet voice. When she pronounces my name I feel
_instinctively_ that she's spelling it with an E. We had recitations
this afternoon. I just wish you could have been there to hear me recite
'Mary, Queen of Scots.' I just put my whole soul into it. Ruby Gillis
told me coming home that the way I said the line, 'Now for my father's
arm,' she said, 'my woman's heart farewell,' just made her blood run
cold."

"Well now, you might recite it for me some of these days, out in the
barn," suggested Matthew.

"Of course I will," said Anne meditatively, "but I won't be able to do
it so well, I know. It won't be so exciting as it is when you have a
whole schoolful before you hanging breathlessly on your words. I know I
won't be able to make your blood run cold."

"Mrs. Lynde says it made _her_ blood run cold to see the boys climbing to
the very tops of those big trees on Bell's hill after crows' nests last
Friday," said Marilla. "I wonder at Miss Stacy for encouraging it."

"But we wanted a crow's nest for nature study," explained Anne. "That
was on our field afternoon. Field afternoons are splendid, Marilla.
And Miss Stacy explains everything so beautifully. We have to write
compositions on our field afternoons and I write the best ones."

"It's very vain of you to say so then. You'd better let your teacher say
it."

"But she _did_ say it, Marilla. And indeed I'm not vain about it. How can
I be, when I'm such a dunce at geometry? Although I'm really beginning
to see through it a little, too. Miss Stacy makes it so clear. Still,
I'll never be good at it and I assure you it is a humbling reflection.
But I love writing compositions. Mostly Miss Stacy lets us choose
our own subjects; but next week we are to write a composition on some
remarkable person. It's hard to choose among so many remarkable people
who have lived. Mustn't it be splendid to be remarkable and have
compositions written about you after you're dead? Oh, I would dearly
love to be remarkable. I think when I grow up I'll be a trained nurse
and go with the Red Crosses to the field of battle as a messenger of
mercy. That is, if I don't go out as a foreign missionary. That would
be very romantic, but one would have to be very good to be a missionary,
and that would be a stumbling block. We have physical culture exercises
every day, too. They make you graceful and promote digestion."

"Promote fiddlesticks!" said Marilla, who honestly thought it was all
nonsense.

But all the field afternoons and recitation Fridays and physical culture
contortions paled before a project which Miss Stacy brought forward in
November. This was that the scholars of Avonlea school should get up
a concert and hold it in the hall on Christmas Night, for the laudable
purpose of helping to pay for a schoolhouse flag. The pupils one and
all taking graciously to this plan, the preparations for a program
were begun at once. And of all the excited performers-elect none was so
excited as Anne Shirley, who threw herself into the undertaking heart
and soul, hampered as she was by Marilla's disapproval. Marilla thought
it all rank foolishness.

"It's just filling your heads up with nonsense and taking time that
ought to be put on your lessons," she grumbled. "I don't approve of
children's getting up concerts and racing about to practices. It makes
them vain and forward and fond of gadding."

"But think of the worthy object," pleaded Anne. "A flag will cultivate a
spirit of patriotism, Marilla."

"Fudge! There's precious little patriotism in the thoughts of any of
you. All you want is a good time."

"Well, when you can combine patriotism and fun, isn't it all right? Of
course it's real nice to be getting up a concert. We're going to have
six choruses and Diana is to sing a solo. I'm in two dialogues--'The
Society for the Suppression of Gossip' and 'The Fairy Queen.' The boys
are going to have a dialogue too. And I'm to have two recitations,
Marilla. I just tremble when I think of it, but it's a nice thrilly kind
of tremble. And we're to have a tableau at the last--'Faith, Hope and
Charity.' Diana and Ruby and I are to be in it, all draped in white with
flowing hair. I'm to be Hope, with my hands clasped--so--and my eyes
uplifted. I'm going to practice my recitations in the garret. Don't be
alarmed if you hear me groaning. I have to groan heartrendingly in one
of them, and it's really hard to get up a good artistic groan, Marilla.
Josie Pye is sulky because she didn't get the part she wanted in
the dialogue. She wanted to be the fairy queen. That would have been
ridiculous, for who ever heard of a fairy queen as fat as Josie? Fairy
queens must be slender. Jane Andrews is to be the queen and I am to be
one of her maids of honor. Josie says she thinks a red-haired fairy is
just as ridiculous as a fat one, but I do not let myself mind what Josie
says. I'm to have a wreath of white roses on my hair and Ruby Gillis
is going to lend me her slippers because I haven't any of my own. It's
necessary for fairies to have slippers, you know. You couldn't imagine
a fairy wearing boots, could you? Especially with copper toes? We are
going to decorate the hall with creeping spruce and fir mottoes with
pink tissue-paper roses in them. And we are all to march in two by two
after the audience is seated, while Emma White plays a march on the
organ. Oh, Marilla, I know you are not so enthusiastic about it as I am,
but don't you hope your little Anne will distinguish herself?"

"All I hope is that you'll behave yourself. I'll be heartily glad when
all this fuss is over and you'll be able to settle down. You are simply
good for nothing just now with your head stuffed full of dialogues and
groans and tableaus. As for your tongue, it's a marvel it's not clean
worn out."

Anne sighed and betook herself to the back yard, over which a young new
moon was shining through the leafless poplar boughs from an apple-green
western sky, and where Matthew was splitting wood. Anne perched herself
on a block and talked the concert over with him, sure of an appreciative
and sympathetic listener in this instance at least.

"Well now, I reckon it's going to be a pretty good concert. And I
expect you'll do your part fine," he said, smiling down into her eager,
vivacious little face. Anne smiled back at him. Those two were the best
of friends and Matthew thanked his stars many a time and oft that he had
nothing to do with bringing her up. That was Marilla's exclusive duty;
if it had been his he would have been worried over frequent conflicts
between inclination and said duty. As it was, he was free to, "spoil
Anne"--Marilla's phrasing--as much as he liked. But it was not such a
bad arrangement after all; a little "appreciation" sometimes does quite
as much good as all the conscientious "bringing up" in the world.

 Miss Stacy and Her Pupils Get Up a Concert Anne enjoys her return to school in October. She especially adores her new teacher, and flourishes academically and personally in Miss Stacy's innovative schoolhouse. Both Mrs. Rachel and Marilla disapprove of Miss Stacy's novel teaching methods, which include sending boys to retrieve birds' nests from the tops of trees to use as teaching tools and leading the children in daily exercises. In November, Miss Stacy announces that the school will put on a Christmas concert to raise money to buy a Canadian flag for the schoolhouse. Anne is even more excited than the rest of the students and anxiously awaits the performance of her two recitations. Marilla declares the concert "foolishness," so Anne talks to Matthew about the concert. He reflects that he is glad that he has no part in bringing up Anne, since his lack of involvement allows him to spoil her.

