It was broad daylight when Anne awoke and sat up in bed, staring confusedly at the window through which a flood of cheery sinshine was pouring and outside of which something white and feathery waved across glimpses of blue sky. For a moment she could not remember where she was. First came a delightful thrill, as of something very pleasant; then a horrible remembrance. This was Green Gabled and they didn't want her because she wasn't a boy! But it was morning and, yes, it was a cherry tree in full bloom outside of her window. With a bound she was out of bed and across the floor. She pushed up the sash it went up stiffly and dreakily, as if it hadn't been opened for a long time, which was the case; and it stuck to tight that nothing was needed to hold it up.   Anne dropped on her knees and gazed out into the June morning, her eyes glistening with delight. Oh, wasn't it beautiful? Wasn't it a lovely place? Suppose she wasn't really going to stay here!

Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed alders and ladies' eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place it was reput to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde's Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run fast Mrs. Rachel was sitting at her window, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she would never rest until she had ferreted out the whys and wherefores thereof. Anne of Green Gables      There are plenty of people, in Avonlea and out of it, who can attend closely to their neighbor's business by dint of neglecting their own; but Mrs. Rachel Lynde was one of those capable creatures who can manage their own concerns