offene küche wohnzimmer trennen
chapter xviadjusted relationships "it's the homiest spot i ever saw--it'shomier than home," avowed philippa gordon, looking about her with delighted eyes. they were all assembled at twilight in thebig living-room at patty's place--anne and priscilla, phil and stella, aunt jamesina,rusty, joseph, the sarah-cat, and gog and magog. the firelight shadows were dancing over thewalls; the cats were purring; and a huge bowl of hothouse chrysanthemums, sent tophil by one of the victims, shone through the golden gloom like creamy moons.
it was three weeks since they hadconsidered themselves settled, and already all believed the experiment would be asuccess. the first fortnight after their return hadbeen a pleasantly exciting one; they had been busy setting up their household goods,organizing their little establishment, and adjusting different opinions. anne was not over-sorry to leave avonleawhen the time came to return to college. the last few days of her vacation had notbeen pleasant. her prize story had been published in theisland papers; and mr. william blair had, upon the counter of his store, a huge pileof pink, green and yellow pamphlets,
containing it, one of which he gave toevery customer. he sent a complimentary bundle to anne, whopromptly dropped them all in the kitchen stove. her humiliation was the consequence of herown ideals only, for avonlea folks thought it quite splendid that she should have wonthe prize. her many friends regarded her with honestadmiration; her few foes with scornful envy. josie pye said she believed anne shirleyhad just copied the story; she was sure she remembered reading it in a paper yearsbefore.
the sloanes, who had found out or guessedthat charlie had been "turned down," said they didn't think it was much to be proudof; almost any one could have done it, if she tried. aunt atossa told anne she was very sorry tohear she had taken to writing novels; nobody born and bred in avonlea would doit; that was what came of adopting orphans from goodness knew where, with goodnessknew what kind of parents. even mrs. rachel lynde was darkly dubiousabout the propriety of writing fiction, though she was almost reconciled to it bythat twenty-five dollar check. "it is perfectly amazing, the price theypay for such lies, that's what," she said,
half-proudly, half-severely.all things considered, it was a relief when going-away time came. and it was very jolly to be back atredmond, a wise, experienced soph with hosts of friends to greet on the merryopening day. pris and stella and gilbert were there,charlie sloane, looking more important than ever a sophomore looked before, phil, withthe alec-and-alonzo question still unsettled, and moody spurgeon macpherson. moody spurgeon had been teaching schoolever since leaving queen's, but his mother had concluded it was high time he gave itup and turned his attention to learning how
to be a minister. poor moody spurgeon fell on hard luck atthe very beginning of his college career. half a dozen ruthless sophs, who were amonghis fellow-boarders, swooped down upon him one night and shaved half of his head. in this guise the luckless moody spurgeonhad to go about until his hair grew again. he told anne bitterly that there were timeswhen he had his doubts as to whether he was really called to be a minister. aunt jamesina did not come until the girlshad patty's place ready for her. miss patty had sent the key to anne, with aletter in which she said gog and magog were
packed in a box under the spare-room bed,but might be taken out when wanted; in a postscript she added that she hoped the girls would be careful about putting uppictures. the living room had been newly papered fiveyears before and she and miss maria did not want any more holes made in that new paperthan was absolutely necessary. for the rest she trusted everything toanne. how those girls enjoyed putting their nestin order! as phil said, it was almost as good asgetting married. you had the fun of homemaking without thebother of a husband.
all brought something with them to adorn ormake comfortable the little house. pris and phil and stella had knick-knacksand pictures galore, which latter they proceeded to hang according to taste, inreckless disregard of miss patty's new paper. "we'll putty the holes up when we leave,dear--she'll never know," they said to protesting anne. diana had given anne a pine needle cushionand miss ada had given both her and priscilla a fearfully and wonderfullyembroidered one. marilla had sent a big box of preserves,and darkly hinted at a hamper for
thanksgiving, and mrs. lynde gave anne apatchwork quilt and loaned her five more. "you take them," she said authoritatively. "they might as well be in use as packedaway in that trunk in the garret for moths to gnaw." no moths would ever have ventured nearthose quilts, for they reeked of mothballs to such an extent that they had to be hungin the orchard of patty's place a full fortnight before they could be enduredindoors. verily, aristocratic spofford avenue hadrarely beheld such a display. the gruff old millionaire who lived "nextdoor" came over and wanted to buy the
gorgeous red and yellow "tulip-pattern" onewhich mrs. rachel had given anne. he said his mother used to make quilts likethat, and by jove, he wanted one to remind him of her. anne would not sell it, much to hisdisappointment, but she wrote all about it to mrs. lynde. that highly-gratified lady sent word backthat she had one just like it to spare, so the tobacco king got his quilt after all,and insisted on having it spread on his bed, to the disgust of his fashionablewife. mrs. lynde's quilts served a very usefulpurpose that winter.
patty's place for all its many virtues, hadits faults also. it was really a rather cold house; and whenthe frosty nights came the girls were very glad to snuggle down under mrs. lynde'squilts, and hoped that the loan of them might be accounted unto her forrighteousness. anne had the blue room she had coveted atsight. priscilla and stella had the large one. phil was blissfully content with the littleone over the kitchen; and aunt jamesina was to have the downstairs one off the living-room. rusty at first slept on the doorstep.
anne, walking home from redmond a few daysafter her return, became aware that the people that she met surveyed her with acovert, indulgent smile. anne wondered uneasily what was the matterwith her. was her hat crooked?was her belt loose? craning her head to investigate, anne, forthe first time, saw rusty. trotting along behind her, close to herheels, was quite the most forlorn specimen of the cat tribe she had ever beheld. the animal was well past kitten-hood, lank,thin, disreputable looking. pieces of both ears were lacking, one eyewas temporarily out of repair, and one jowl
ludicrously swollen. as for color, if a once black cat had beenwell and thoroughly singed the result would have resembled the hue of this waif's thin,draggled, unsightly fur. anne "shooed," but the cat would not"shoo." as long as she stood he sat back on hishaunches and gazed at her reproachfully out of his one good eye; when she resumed herwalk he followed. anne resigned herself to his company untilshe reached the gate of patty's place, which she coldly shut in his face, fondlysupposing she had seen the last of him. but when, fifteen minutes later, philopened the door, there sat the rusty-brown
cat on the step. more, he promptly darted in and sprang uponanne's lap with a half-pleading, half- triumphant "miaow.""anne," said stella severely, "do you own that animal?" "no, i do not," protested disgusted anne."the creature followed me home from somewhere.i couldn't get rid of him. ugh, get down. i like decent cats reasonably well; but idon't like beasties of your complexion." pussy, however, refused to get down.he coolly curled up in anne's lap and began
to purr. "he has evidently adopted you," laughedpriscilla. "i won't be adopted," said anne stubbornly."the poor creature is starving," said phil pityingly. "why, his bones are almost coming throughhis skin." "well, i'll give him a square meal and thenhe must return to whence he came," said anne resolutely. the cat was fed and put out.in the morning he was still on the doorstep.on the doorstep he continued to sit,
bolting in whenever the door was opened. no coolness of welcome had the least effecton him; of nobody save anne did he take the least notice. out of compassion the girls fed him; butwhen a week had passed they decided that something must be done.the cat's appearance had improved. his eye and cheek had resumed their normalappearance; he was not quite so thin; and he had been seen washing his face."but for all that we can't keep him," said stella. "aunt jimsie is coming next week and shewill bring the sarah-cat with her.
we can't keep two cats; and if we did thisrusty coat would fight all the time with the sarah-cat. he's a fighter by nature.he had a pitched battle last evening with the tobacco-king's cat and routed him,horse, foot and artillery." "we must get rid of him," agreed anne,looking darkly at the subject of their discussion, who was purring on the hearthrug with an air of lamb-like meekness. "but the question is--how? how can four unprotected females get rid ofa cat who won't be got rid of?" "we must chloroform him," said philbriskly.
"that is the most humane way." "who of us knows anything aboutchloroforming a cat?" demanded anne gloomily."i do, honey. it's one of my few--sadly few--usefulaccomplishments. i've disposed of several at home.you take the cat in the morning and give him a good breakfast. then you take an old burlap bag--there'sone in the back porch--put the cat on it and turn over him a wooden box. then take a two-ounce bottle of chloroform,uncork it, and slip it under the edge of
the box.put a heavy weight on top of the box and leave it till evening. the cat will be dead, curled up peacefullyas if he were asleep. no pain--no struggle.""it sounds easy," said anne dubiously. "it is easy. just leave it to me.i'll see to it," said phil reassuringly. accordingly the chloroform was procured,and the next morning rusty was lured to his doom. he ate his breakfast, licked his chops, andclimbed into anne's lap.
anne's heart misgave her.this poor creature loved her--trusted her. how could she be a party to thisdestruction? "here, take him," she said hastily to phil."i feel like a murderess." "he won't suffer, you know," comfortedphil, but anne had fled. the fatal deed was done in the back porch.nobody went near it that day. but at dusk phil declared that rusty mustbe buried. "pris and stella must dig his grave in theorchard," declared phil, "and anne must come with me to lift the box off. that's the part i always hate."the two conspirators tip-toed reluctantly
to the back porch.phil gingerly lifted the stone she had put on the box. suddenly, faint but distinct, sounded anunmistakable mew under the box. "he--he isn't dead," gasped anne, sittingblankly down on the kitchen doorstep. "he must be," said phil incredulously. another tiny mew proved that he wasn't.the two girls stared at each other. "what will we do?" questioned anne."why in the world don't you come?" demanded stella, appearing in the doorway. "we've got the grave ready.'what silent still and silent all?'" she
quoted teasingly. "'oh, no, the voices of the dead sound likethe distant torrent's fall,'" promptly counter-quoted anne, pointing solemnly tothe box. a burst of laughter broke the tension. "we must leave him here till morning," saidphil, replacing the stone. "he hasn't mewed for five minutes.perhaps the mews we heard were his dying groan. or perhaps we merely imagined them, underthe strain of our guilty consciences." but, when the box was lifted in themorning, rusty bounded at one gay leap to
anne's shoulder where he began to lick herface affectionately. never was there a cat more decidedly alive. "here's a knot hole in the box," groanedphil. "i never saw it.that's why he didn't die. now, we've got to do it all over again." "no, we haven't," declared anne suddenly."rusty isn't going to be killed again. he's my cat--and you've just got to makethe best of it." "oh, well, if you'll settle with auntjimsie and the sarah-cat," said stella, with the air of one washing her hands ofthe whole affair.
from that time rusty was one of the family. he slept o'nights on the scrubbing cushionin the back porch and lived on the fat of the land.by the time aunt jamesina came he was plump and glossy and tolerably respectable. but, like kipling's cat, he "walked byhimself." his paw was against every cat, and everycat's paw against him. one by one he vanquished the aristocraticfelines of spofford avenue. as for human beings, he loved anne and annealone. nobody else even dared stroke him.
an angry spit and something that soundedmuch like very improper language greeted any one who did."the airs that cat puts on are perfectly intolerable," declared stella. "him was a nice old pussens, him was,"vowed anne, cuddling her pet defiantly. "well, i don't know how he and the sarah-cat will ever make out to live together," said stella pesimistically. "cat-fights in the orchard o'nights are badenough. but cat-fights here in the livingroom areunthinkable." in due time aunt jamesina arrived.
anne and priscilla and phil had awaited heradvent rather dubiously; but when aunt jamesina was enthroned in the rocking chairbefore the open fire they figuratively bowed down and worshipped her. aunt jamesina was a tiny old woman with alittle, softly-triangular face, and large, soft blue eyes that were alight withunquenchable youth, and as full of hopes as a girl's. she had pink cheeks and snow-white hairwhich she wore in quaint little puffs over her ears. "it's a very old-fashioned way," she said,knitting industriously at something as
dainty and pink as a sunset cloud."but i am old-fashioned. my clothes are, and it stands to reason myopinions are, too. i don't say they're any the better of that,mind you. in fact, i daresay they're a good deal theworse. but they've worn nice and easy.new shoes are smarter than old ones, but the old ones are more comfortable. i'm old enough to indulge myself in thematter of shoes and opinions. i mean to take it real easy here. i know you expect me to look after you andkeep you proper, but i'm not going to do
it.you're old enough to know how to behave if you're ever going to be. so, as far as i am concerned," concludedaunt jamesina, with a twinkle in her young eyes, "you can all go to destruction inyour own way." "oh, will somebody separate those cats?"pleaded stella, shudderingly. aunt jamesina had brought with her not onlythe sarah-cat but joseph. joseph, she explained, had belonged to adear friend of hers who had gone to live in vancouver."she couldn't take joseph with her so she begged me to take him.
i really couldn't refuse.he's a beautiful cat--that is, his disposition is beautiful.she called him joseph because his coat is of many colors." it certainly was.joseph, as the disgusted stella said, looked like a walking rag-bag.it was impossible to say what his ground color was. his legs were white with black spots onthem. his back was gray with a huge patch ofyellow on one side and a black patch on the other.
his tail was yellow with a gray tip.one ear was black and one yellow. a black patch over one eye gave him afearfully rakish look. in reality he was meek and inoffensive, ofa sociable disposition. in one respect, if in no other, joseph waslike a lily of the field. he toiled not neither did he spin or catchmice. yet solomon in all his glory slept not onsofter cushions, or feasted more fully on fat things. joseph and the sarah-cat arrived by expressin separate boxes. after they had been released and fed,joseph selected the cushion and corner
which appealed to him, and the sarah-catgravely sat herself down before the fire and proceeded to wash her face. she was a large, sleek, gray-and-white cat,with an enormous dignity which was not at all impaired by any consciousness of herplebian origin. she had been given to aunt jamesina by herwasherwoman. "her name was sarah, so my husband alwayscalled puss the sarah-cat," explained aunt jamesina. "she is eight years old, and a remarkablemouser. don't worry, stella.the sarah-cat never fights and joseph
rarely." "they'll have to fight here in self-defense," said stella. at this juncture rusty arrived on thescene. he bounded joyously half way across theroom before he saw the intruders. then he stopped short; his tail expandeduntil it was as big as three tails. the fur on his back rose up in a defiantarch; rusty lowered his head, uttered a fearful shriek of hatred and defiance, andlaunched himself at the sarah-cat. the stately animal had stopped washing herface and was looking at him curiously. she met his onslaught with one contemptuoussweep of her capable paw.
rusty went rolling helplessly over on therug; he picked himself up dazedly. what sort of a cat was this who had boxedhis ears? he looked dubiously at the sarah-cat. would he or would he not?the sarah-cat deliberately turned her back on him and resumed her toilet operations.rusty decided that he would not. he never did. from that time on the sarah-cat ruled theroost. rusty never again interfered with her.but joseph rashly sat up and yawned. rusty, burning to avenge his disgrace,swooped down upon him.
joseph, pacific by nature, could fight uponoccasion and fight well. the result was a series of drawn battles. every day rusty and joseph fought at sight.anne took rusty's part and detested joseph. stella was in despair.but aunt jamesina only laughed. "let them fight it out," she saidtolerantly. "they'll make friends after a bit.joseph needs some exercise--he was getting too fat. and rusty has to learn he isn't the onlycat in the world." eventually joseph and rusty accepted thesituation and from sworn enemies became
sworn friends. they slept on the same cushion with theirpaws about each other, and gravely washed each other's faces."we've all got used to each other," said phil. "and i've learned how to wash dishes andsweep a floor." "but you needn't try to make us believe youcan chloroform a cat," laughed anne. "it was all the fault of the knothole,"protested phil. "it was a good thing the knothole wasthere," said aunt jamesina rather severely. "kittens have to be drowned, i admit, orthe world would be overrun.
but no decent, grown-up cat should be doneto death--unless he sucks eggs." "you wouldn't have thought rusty verydecent if you'd seen him when he came here," said stella."he positively looked like the old nick." "i don't believe old nick can be so very,ugly" said aunt jamesina reflectively. "he wouldn't do so much harm if he was.i always think of him as a rather handsome gentleman."
