ke
fearful inroads into his pudding. "Since I've got pretty good myself I
don't mind his being gooder so much. If I can keep on I'll catch up with
him some day, both in legs and goodness. 'Sides, Paul's real nice to
us second primer boys in school. He won't let the other big boys meddle
with us and he shows us lots of games."

"How came Paul to fall into the brook at noon hour yesterday?" asked
Anne. "I met him on the playground, such a dripping figure that I sent
him promptly home for clothes without waiting to find out what had
happened."

"Well, it was partly a zacksident," explained Davy. "He stuck his head
in on purpose but the rest of him fell in zacksidentally. We was all
down at the brook and Prillie Rogerson got mad at Paul about something
. . . she's awful mean and horrid anyway, if she IS pretty . . . and said
that his grandmother put his hair up in curl rags every night. Paul
wouldn't have minded what she said, I guess, but Gracie Andrews laughed,
and Paul got awful red, 'cause Gracie's his girl, you know. He's CLEAN
GONE on her . . . brings her flowers and carries her books as far as the
shore road. He got as red as a beet and said his grandmother didn't do
any such thing and his hair was born curly. And then he laid down on
the bank and stuck his head right into the spring to show them. Oh,
it wasn't the spring we drink out of . . ." seeing a horrified look on
Marilla's face . . . "it was the little one lower down. But the bank's
awful slippy and Paul went right in. I tell you he made a bully splash.
Oh, Anne, Anne, I didn't mean to say that . . . it just slipped out before
I thought. He made a SPLENDID splash. But he looked so funny when he
crawled out, all wet and muddy. The girls laughed more'n ever, but
Gracie didn't laugh. She looked sorry. Gracie's a nice girl but she's
got a snub nose. When I get big enough to have a girl I won't have one
with a snub nose . . . I'll pick one with a pretty nose like yours, Anne."

"A boy who makes such a mess of syrup all over his face when he is
eating his pudding will never get a girl to look at him," said Marilla
severely.

"But I'll wash my face before I go courting," protested Davy, trying to
improve matters by rubbing the back of his hand over the smears. "And
I'll wash behind my ears too, without being told. I remembered to this
morning, Marilla. I don't forget half as often as I did. But . . ." and
Davy sighed . . . "there's so many corners about a fellow