r. Harrison
was much harder to please. First he told her there was entirely too much
description in the story.
"Cut out all those flowery passages," he said unfeelingly.
Anne had an uncomfortable conviction that Mr. Harrison was right, and
she forced herself to expunge most of her beloved descriptions, though
it took three re-writings before the story could be pruned down to
please the fastidious Mr. Harrison.
"I've left out ALL the descriptions but the sunset," she said at last.
"I simply COULDN'T let it go. It was the best of them all."
"It hasn't anything to do with the story," said Mr. Harrison, "and you
shouldn't have laid the scene among rich city people. What do you know
of them? Why didn't you lay it right here in Avonlea--changing the name,
of course, or else Mrs. Rachel Lynde would probably think she was the
heroine."
"Oh, that would never have done," protested Anne. "Avonlea is the
dearest place in the world, but it isn't quite romantic enough for the
scene of a story."
"I daresay there's been many a romance in Avonlea--and many a tragedy,
too," said Mr. Harrison drily. "But your folks ain't like real folks
anywhere. They talk too much and use too high-flown language. There's
one place where that DALRYMPLE chap talks even on for two pages, and
never lets the girl get a word in edgewise. If he'd done that in real
life she'd have pitched him."
"I don't believe it," said Anne flatly. In her secret soul she thought
that the beautiful, poetical things said to AVERIL would win any girl's
heart completely. Besides, it was gruesome to hear of AVERIL, the
stately, queen-like AVERIL, "pitching" any one. AVERIL "declined her
suitors."
"Anyhow," resumed the merciless Mr. Harrison, "I don't see why MAURICE
LENNOX didn't get her. He was twice the man the other is. He did bad
things, but he did them. Perceval hadn't time for anything but mooning."
"Mooning." That was even worse than "pitching!"
"MAURICE LENNOX was the villain," said Anne indignantly. "I don't see
why every one likes him better than PERCEVAL."
"Perceval is too good. He's aggravating. Next time you write about a
hero put a little spice of human nature in him."
"AVERIL couldn't have married MAURICE. He was bad."
"She'd have reformed him. You can reform a man; you can't reform a
jelly-fish, of course. Your story isn't bad--it's kind of interesting,
I'll admit. But you're too young to write a story that would be worth
while. Wait te
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