ttie Blewett would. There was

[Golpe]

Bronze, and their long shadows barred the upland meadows.
But around them a little wind sang among the fir tassels, and in it there was the note

of autumn. "This wood really is haunted now--by old memories," said Anne, stooping to gather a spray of ferns, bleached to

waxen whiteness
by frost. "It seems to me that the little girls Diana and I used to be play here still, and sit by the
Dryad's Bubble in the twilights, trysting with the ghosts. Do you know, I can never go up this
path in the dusk without feeling a bit of the

old fright and shiver? There was one especially horrifying phantom which we created--the ghost of the
murdered child that crept up behind you and laid cold fingers on yours. I confess that, to this day, I cannot help fancying its little, furtive footsteps behind me when I come here after
nightfall. I'm not afraid of the White Lady or the headless man or the skeletons, but I wish I had never
imagined that baby's ghost into existence. How angry Marilla and Mrs. Barry were over that affair," concluded
Anne, with reminiscent laughter. The woods around the head of the marsh were full of purple vistas, threaded with
gossamers. Past a dour plantation
of gnarled spruces and a maple-fringed, sun-warm valley they found the "something" Gilbert was looking for. "Ah, here it is," he said with satisfaction. "An apple tree--and away back here!" exclaimed Anne delightedly. "Yes, a veritable
apple-bearing apple tree, too, here in the very midst of pines and beeches, a mile away from any
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