headfirst into the biggest pie and then, because she cried, he got into
it himself and wallowed in it to show her it was nothing to cry about.
Mary said Dora was really a very good child but that Davy was full of
mischief. He has never had any bringing up you might say. His father
died when he was a baby and Mary has been sick almost ever since."

"I'm always sorry for children that have no bringing up," said Anne
soberly. "You know _I_ hadn't any till you took me in hand. I hope their
uncle will look after them. Just what relation is Mrs. Keith to you?"

"Mary? None in the world. It was her husband . . . he was our third
cousin. There's Mrs. Lynde coming through the yard. I thought she'd be
up to hear about Mary."

"Don't tell her about Mr. Harrison and the cow," implored Anne.

Marilla promised; but the promise was quite unnecessary, for Mrs. Lynde
was no sooner fairly seated than she said,

"I saw Mr. Harrison chasing your Jersey out of his oats today when I was
coming home from Carmody. I thought he looked pretty mad. Did he make
much of a rumpus?"

Anne and Marilla furtively exchanged amused smiles. Few things in
Avonlea ever escaped Mrs. Lynde. It was only that morning Anne had said,

"If you went to your own room at midnight, locked the door, pulled down
the blind, and SNEEZED, Mrs. Lynde would ask you the next day how your
cold was!"