in one cheek and none in the other, which gave him a dear, comical,
lopsided look when he laughed. Mirth and mischief lurked in every corner
of his little face.

"They'd better go to bed," said Marilla, who thought it was the easiest
way to dispose of them. "Dora will sleep with me and you can put Davy in
the west gable. You're not afraid to sleep alone, are you, Davy?"

"No; but I ain't going to bed for ever so long yet," said Davy
comfortably.

"Oh, yes, you are." That was all the much-tried Marilla said, but
something in her tone squelched even Davy. He trotted obediently
upstairs with Anne.

"When I'm grown up the very first thing I'm going to do is stay up ALL
night just to see what it would be like," he told her confidentially.

In after years Marilla never thought of that first week of the twins'
sojourn at Green Gables without a shiver. Not that it really was so much
worse than the weeks that followed it; but it seemed so by reason of its
novelty. There was seldom a waking minute of any day when Davy was not
in mischief or devising it; but his first notable exploit occurred two
days after his arrival, on Sunday morning . . . a fine, warm day, as
hazy and mild as September. Anne dressed him for church while Marilla
attended to Dora. Davy at first objected strongly to having his face
washed.

"Marilla washed it yesterday . . . and Mrs. Wiggins scoured me with hard
soap the day of the funeral. That's enough for one week. I don't see the