passionate love of beauty. Frost of winter, invitation of
spring, dream of summer and glamour of autumn, all meant much to
Walter.

In school, where Jem was a chieftain, Walter was not thought
highly of. He was supposed to be "girly" and milk-soppish,
because he never fought and seldom joined in the school sports,
preferring to herd by himself in out of the way corners and read
books--especially "po'try books." Walter loved the poets and
pored over their pages from the time he could first read. Their
music was woven into his growing soul--the music of the
immortals. Walter cherished the ambition to be a poet himself
some day. The thing could be done. A certain Uncle Paul--so
called out of courtesy--who lived now in that mysterious realm
called "the States," was Walter's model. Uncle Paul had once
been a little school boy in Avonlea and now his poetry was read
everywhere. But the Glen schoolboys did not know of Walter's
dreams and would not have been greatly impressed if they had. In
spite of his lack of physical prowess, however, he commanded a
certain unwilling respect because of his power of "talking book
talk." Nobody in Glen St. Mary school could talk like him. He
"sounded like a preacher," one boy said; and for this reason he
was generally left alone and not persecuted, as most boys were
who were suspected of disliking or fearing fisticuffs.

The ten year old Ingleside twins violated twin tradition by not
looking in the least alike. Anne, who was always called Nan, was
very pretty, with velvety nut-brown eyes and silky nut-brown
hair. She was a very blithe and dainty little maiden--Blythe by
name and blithe by nature, one of her teachers had said. Her