While Lizzie was busy making doll dresses, Anne got a book with pictures
in it and gave forth a story with a readiness that amazed Mrs. Collins.
"Ain't you a good reader!" she exclaimed. "You read so fast I can't
understand half you say."
"I'm not reading all that," honesty compelled Anne to confess, as she
beamed with pleasure at Mrs. Collins's praise. "I read when the words
are short, and when they're long and the print's solid, I make it up out
of my head to fit the pictures."
"Ah! you come of high-learnt folks," said Mrs. Collins, admiringly.
"Now, my Jake and Peter, they can't read nothing but what's in the book
and that a heap of trouble to 'em. And Lizzie here, she's wore out two
first readers and don't hardly know her letters yet."
Lizzie soon tired of sewing and she and Anne pattered off through the
halls to the bareness and strangeness of which Anne could not get used.
Where, she wondered, were the people in tarnished gilt frames--slim
smiling ladies and stately gentlemen with stocks and wigs--that used to
be there? The two girls played lady and come-to-see in the bare
up-stairs rooms awhile. Then Anne said, "Lizzie, I'm going up the little
ladder into the attic and walk around the chimneys.
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