going to get the paint in town today."

"Who's got the job?"

"Mr. Joshua Pye of Carmody. He has nearly finished the shingling. We had
to give him the contract, for every one of the Pyes . . . and there are
four families, you know . . . said they wouldn't give a cent unless Joshua
got it. They had subscribed twelve dollars between them and we thought
that was too much to lose, although some people think we shouldn't have
given in to the Pyes. Mrs. Lynde says they try to run everything."

"The main question is will this Joshua do his work well. If he does I
don't see that it matters whether his name is Pye or Pudding."

"He has the reputation of being a good workman, though they say he's a
very peculiar man. He hardly ever talks."

"He's peculiar enough all right then," said Mr. Harrison drily. "Or at
least, folks here will call him so. I never was much of a talker till
I came to Avonlea and then I had to begin in self-defense or Mrs. Lynde
would have said I was dumb and started a subscription to have me taught
sign language. You're not going yet, Anne?"

"I must. I have some sewing to do for Dora this evening. Besides, Davy
is probably breaking Marilla's heart with some new mischief by this
time. This morning the first thing he said was, 'Where does the dark go,
Anne? I want to know.' I told him it went around to the other side of
the world but after breakfast he declared it didn't . . . that it went
down the well. Marilla says she caught him hanging over the well-box
four times today, trying to reach down to the dark."

"He's a limb," declared Mr. Harrison. "He came over here yesterday and
pulled six feathers out of Ginger's tail before I could get in from the
barn. The poor bird has been moping ever since. Those children must be a
sight of trouble to you folks."

"Everything that's worth having is some trouble," said Anne, secretly
resolving to forgive Davy's next offence, whatever it might be, since he
had avenged her on Ginger.

Mr. Roger Pye brought the hall paint home that night and Mr. Joshua Pye,
a surly, taciturn man, began painting the next day. He was not disturbed
in his task. The hall was situated on what was called "the lower road."
In late autumn this road was always muddy and wet, and people going to
Carmody traveled by the longer "upper" road. The hall was so closely
surrounded by fir woods that it was invisible unless you were near it.
Mr. Joshua Pye painted away in the solitude and independe