Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, L M Montgomery does.

School opened and Anne returned to her work, with fewer theories but considerably more experience. She had several new pupils, six- and seven-year-olds just venturing, round-eyed, into a world of wonder. Among them were Davy and Dora.

It was the first of September; one of those indiscriminate, mild days, when the sunlight fell softly on everything, making the world look like a postcard painted with watercolours. Anne had woken up at dawn, and lain awake thinking of all the hopes she had spun for the year - resolving, anew, to make fewer mistakes. Davy and Dora were spruced up; and Anne set off to school with the twins in tow.

Anne was lost in admiring the way the sunlight stole in through the canopy in the Birch Path and dotted the mossy lane - the "dappled" sunlight made her think of sunshine as a beautiful, new hue of paint, which, when sprinkled over the most drab objects, seemed to give them life – when Davy, who had, surprisingly, been walking beside her sedately, lost in thought, broke upon her musings with, "Anne, where can you get spare eyes and ears? I want to know."

An amazed Anne turned to him. "Who ever told you such a strange thing, Davy? People have only two eyes and two ears!"

Aggrieved, Davy poured forth his defence, "I knew that, Anne, but George Dickenson told me last Saturday that his mother told him that Mrs. Lynde was the nosiest woman in the world and that she had eyes and ears in all the houses in Avonlea. I asked Mrs. Lynde where she kept her spare eyes and ears, 'cause it'd be a useful thing to have, wouldn't it? But she got mad and said "children should be seen and not heard." Is it a secret, Anne? I want to know. And how can children be seen and not heard? They'd have to be ghosts for that, wouldn't they? Milty Boulter says ghosts can creep on you without being heard, and can dis'ppear when they want. That'd be awful handy, I s'pose. How can they dis'ppear like that, Anne? I want to know."

Deciding that convoluted theories of paranormal forces and superstition were beyond the comprehension of curious six-year-olds and her ability to explain it to them, Anne replied with a simple "Ghosts don't really exist, Davy." ,while guiltily remembering two eleven-year-olds who had fashioned the Haunted Wood.

"They DO, else people won't have seen them, would they?" demanded Davy. "Say, Anne, how much patience does a saint have? YesterdayI found the key of the jam closet and hid it on the topmost shelf in the pantry – you should've seen Marilla hunting for it, when it was right above her head! When she heard me laughing, she up 'n demanded where I'd hidden it, and she spanked me and said I'd test the patient of a saint. Why can't I hide the key, Anne? Marilla does it all the time. It's only fair if I hide it from her sometimes, ain't it? And saints must've lots of patience, won't they? 'Cause it says so in the psalms,

O Give thanks unto the Lord;
for he is good:
because his mercy endureth for ever.

, we learnt it in Sunday school last week. And saints stay near God so they have to be like Him, haven't they? Doesn't Marilla know that psalm, Anne? I want to know."

Before Anne could reply, Dora rounded on him, shocked. "That's so wicked of you, Davy Keith! The psalms never say anything 'bout being naughty! Didn't we learn that,

The Lord takes the righteous:

But the wicked and him that loves violence

His soul hates.

You ain't s'posed to talk about Him that way! It's bla – blasmy! And you ain't s'posed to trouble Marilla! "

Davy felt he had perhaps gone too far, and went hot under his collar, but didn't reply directly to Dora's rare outburst. "I was just having fun, but I don't s'pose YOU'LL understand, 'cause you're a girl. Mr Harrison says only a man can understand a man, and so do I. When a boy gets an idea his hands start itchin' till he does it. I'm glad I ain't a girl. Seems to me you can't have no 'xcitement if you're a girl. "

Anne let that pass, as Davy looked repentant, despite his words, and led them up the hill to the schoolhouse. Davy and Dora entered the schoolroom, a bit timidly, and while Davy headed right for Milty Boulter, who was sitting in a corner doodling on his slate, Dora stood at the door looking about uncertainly.

Anne came in behind her and asked softly, "What is it, dear?"

"Lily Sloane said we'd sit together in school, Anne, but she ain't here yet -"

"Oh, Lily's mother told me she won't be coming today as she has a bad head cold. You go sit by Mirabel Cotton over there in the second desk, Dora."

As the scholars rose to greet her, Anne smiled, remembering that first-speech-that-never-was, "I hope you have all been good children this summer. I'm sure each one of you will work hard this year and make your parents, your school and me proud of you. Please take out your Testaments. "

Davy, who had plopped down beside Milty, peeked over to see what he was working on so industriously, and saw a portrait which looked remarkably unsteady, given that its lines seemed unwilling to stick to the normal proportions of human beings. "Whatcha drawing Milt? "

"Miss Shirley – don't it look like her?"

Davy immediately and hotly took offense at his idol being insulted so. "THAT's not Anne, Milty Boulter! If you draw such ugly pictures of Anne, I'll – I'll lick you at recess, see if I don't!" he blurted, which was brave indeed, considering that Milty was a good two inches taller and a stone heavier than him.

The offender was alarmed, having intended the drawing as a compliment, not an insult. "Here Davy, I dinna mean to insult Miss Shirley! I ain't 'fraid of you, but don't lets fight, see - I'll call it a drawing of Barbara Shaw – I don't like her", so saying, he rubbed out Anne's name and replaced it with that of the unfortunate Miss Shaw.

After the Morning Prayer, Anne set about assigning tasks to all the classes, and gathered the primer class around herself to discover what they knew. Davy and Dora had learnt their letters and numbers at home, so they were assigned words to learn and small sums to work upon. As the morning progressed, Dora calmly and methodically went about finishing her "classwork", while Davy twitched about in his seat and grumbled over the problems.

When asked whether he didn't understand them, he poured forth his complaints. "I call it downright cruel to tempt a fellow that way, Anne! Why do you ask me how many candies I'll have if you give me six and Marilla gives me seven more? You ain't gonna give them to me, are you? And why must 'sufficient' be spelled with two 'f's, Anne? Ain't one good enough? I want to know."

At recess, the children rushed out in a flurry of excited chatter and rumbling stomachs. Davy was "introduced" to the other boys by Milty with a "This is Mr. Davy Keith. He's a good sport.", and gladly welcomed into their games on the weight of that testimonial. A game of tag ensued, and Milty was 'it'. Davy was describing the catapult, which the farm-help Martin had made for him, to Terry Sloane, and what Anne and Marilla had said about using it, when he was overheard and interrupted by a shocked Roger Tillis, who was new to Avonlea, and belonged to a family that was "too pious for their own good" as Mrs. Lynde put it.

"How can you call Miss Shirley by her name,Davy Keith? That's so disrespectful! What if she finds out?"

Terry Sloane hastened to explain, before the enraged Davy could defend his honour by means of his fists." Davy ain't being disrespeckful– Miss Shirley lives with him and his sister at Green Gables with their aunt Miss Marilla Cuthbert. You ain't s'posed to 'ccuse him wrongly!"

An apology was hastily extended, and Davy became all smiling amicability, when a wail broke through the peaceful afternoon.

Anne came hurrying out of the schoolhouse to find her pupils crowded over a sobbing figure, who on inspection, turned out to be Stella Fletcher of the primer class. She was being patted sympathetically on the back by Dora, but the other girls sported expressions of heinous doom foreseen.

"What is it, Stella darling?" Anne asked gently, taking her into her arms.

"I dun wan- wanna a t-tree growing inside 'o me, teacher!", came the broken, disconsolate wail.

"A tree, inside you!" Anne was beyond amazement. She looked at the girls for explanation.

"She swallowed an orange slice whole, miss – "

"Seeds and all- "

"My Great Aunt Clara says that you must be careful to never swallow any seed, else it'll take root in your belly, and grow there, and it's true, teacher , 'cause she has roamed all over the world, even to Africa, and she knows everything."

Anne patiently set out to explain the basic concepts of the human anatomy, without discrediting the all-knowing Great Aunt Clara; and consoled poor Stella, by stating decisively that seeds couldn't grow without soil and sunlight, so she would not suffer from anything worse than a stomach ache. Her students seemed disappointed by the knowledge that they weren't capable of growing trees in their tummies at will, but the only inkling Anne had of it was when Davy, who'd been a spectator of the whole incident, followed her asking, "Say Anne, will a tree grow in my tummy if I put soil in it and stand in the sun? I want to know."

Dispelling horrifying visions of Davy doing the same (for he was quite capable of experimentation to satisfy his curiosity), Anne mumbled a hasty "No Davy, the sunlight can't reach inside your stomach so you would only get a pain in your stomach-", and to fix the idea firmly in his head -"a terrible pain, the likes of which you would have never seen before – they'd have to cut open your stomach to cure it - that's the most dreadful thing that could happen to a small boy!" , and fled to the safer confines of the schoolroom, before her restraint could break and free her laughter.

"I think school is great fun," Davy told Marilla when he got home that night. "You said I'd find it hard to sit still and I did . . . you mostly do tell the truth, I notice . . . but you can wriggle your legs about under the desk and that helps a lot. It's splendid to have so many boys to play with. I sit with Milty Boulter and he's fine. He's longer than me but I'm wider. It's nicer to sit in the back seats but you can't sit there till your legs grow long enough to touch the floor. Milty drawed a picture of Anne on his slate and it was awful ugly and I told him if he made pictures of Anne like that I'd lick him at recess. I thought first I'd draw one of him and put horns and a tail on it, but I was afraid it would hurt his feelings, and Anne says you should never hurt anyone's feelings. It seems it's dreadful to have your feelings hurt. It's better to knock a boy down than hurt his feelings if you MUST do something. Milty said he wasn't scared of me but he'd just as soon call it somebody else to 'blige me, so he rubbed out Anne's name and printed Barbara Shaw's under it. Milty doesn't like Barbara 'cause she calls him a sweet little boy and once she patted him on his head."

Note: All mistakes in spelling and grammar committed by Anne's students is intentional, and supposed to be coincidental. All others are mine - do tell!

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Wishing you all a happy festive season - no matter what festival you may celebrate,let us all feel glad to be alive and revel in it!