tea-set graced the table! With Marilla the force of nature could no
further go.

"I suppose you and Diana will now proceed to talk all night," said
Marilla sarcastically, as the girls went upstairs. Marilla was always
sarcastic after any self-betrayal.

"Yes," agreed Anne gaily, "but I'm going to put Davy to bed first. He
insists on that."

"You bet," said Davy, as they went along the hall. "I want somebody to
say my prayers to again. It's no fun saying them alone."

"You don't say them alone, Davy. God is always with you to hear you."

"Well, I can't see Him," objected Davy. "I want to pray to somebody I
can see, but I WON'T say them to Mrs. Lynde or Marilla, there now!"

Nevertheless, when Davy was garbed in his gray flannel nighty, he did
not seem in a hurry to begin. He stood before Anne, shuffling one bare
foot over the other, and looked undecided.

"Come, dear, kneel down," said Anne.

Davy came and buried his head in Anne's lap, but he did not kneel down.

"Anne," he said in a muffled voice. "I don't feel like praying after
all. I haven't felt like it for a week now. I--I DIDN'T pray last night
nor the night before."

"Why not, Davy?" asked Anne gently.

"You--you won't be mad if I tell you?" implored Davy.

Anne lifted the little gray-flannelled body on her knee and cuddled his
head on her arm.

"Do I ever get 'mad' when you tell me things, Davy?"

"No-o-o, you never do. But you get sorry, and that's worse. You'll be
awful sorry when I tell you this, Anne--and you'll be 'shamed of me, I
s'pose."

"Have you done something naughty, Davy, and is that why you can't say
your prayers?"

"No, I haven't done anything naughty--yet. But I want to do it."

"What is it, Davy?"

"I--I want to say a bad word, Anne," blurted out Davy, with a desperate
effort. "I heard Mr. Harrison's hired boy say it one day last week,
and ever since I've been wanting to say it ALL the time--even when I'm
saying my prayers."

"Say it then, Davy."

Davy lifted his flushed face in amazement.

"But, Anne, it's an AWFUL bad word."

"SAY IT!"

Davy gave her another incredulous look, then in a low voice he said the
dreadful word. The next minute his face was burrowing against her.

"Oh, Anne, I'll never say it again--never. I'll never WANT to say it
again. I knew it was bad, but I didn't s'pose it was so--so--I didn't
s'pose it was like THAT."

"No, I don't think you'll ever want to say it again, Davy--or think it,