use' at Prospect
Point. So a fortnight ago I came as usual. And as usual old 'Uncle Mark
Miller' brought me from the station with his ancient buggy and what he
calls his 'generous purpose' horse. He is a nice old man and gave me
a handful of pink peppermints. Peppermints always seem to me such a
religious sort of candy--I suppose because when I was a little girl
Grandmother Gordon always gave them to me in church. Once I asked,
referring to the smell of peppermints, 'Is that the odor of sanctity?' I
didn't like to eat Uncle Mark's peppermints because he just fished them
loose out of his pocket, and had to pick some rusty nails and other
things from among them before he gave them to me. But I wouldn't hurt
his dear old feelings for anything, so I carefully sowed them along the
road at intervals. When the last one was gone, Uncle Mark said, a little
rebukingly, 'Ye shouldn't a'et all them candies to onct, Miss Phil.
You'll likely have the stummick-ache.'

"Cousin Emily has only five boarders besides myself--four old ladies and
one young man. My right-hand neighbor is Mrs. Lilly. She is one of those
people who seem to take a gruesome pleasure in detailing all their many
aches and pains and sicknesses. You cannot mention any ailment but she
says, shaking her head, 'Ah, I know too well what that is'--and then you
get all the details. Jonas declares he once spoke of locomotor ataxia in
hearing and she said she knew too well what that was. She suffered from
it for ten years and was finally cured by a traveling doctor.

"Who is Jonas? Just wait, Anne Shirley. You'll hear all about Jonas in
the proper time and place. He is not to be mixed up with estimable old
ladies.

"My left-hand neighbor at the table is Mrs. Phinney. She always speaks
with a wailing, dolorous voice--you are nervously expecting her to burst
into tears every moment. She gives you the impression that life to her
is indeed a vale of tears, and that a smile, never to speak of a laugh,
is a frivolity truly reprehensible. She has a worse opinion of me than
Aunt Jamesina, and she doesn't love me hard to atone for it, as Aunty J.
does, either.

"Miss Maria Grimsby sits cati-corner from me. The first day I came I
remarked to Miss Maria that it looked a little like rain--and Miss Maria
laughed. I said the road from the station was very pretty--and Miss
Maria laughed. I said there seemed to be a few mosquitoes left yet--and
Miss Maria laughed. I said that Prospect P