Anne shivered over the disagreeable recollection.

But all problems connected with infatuated swains vanished from her mind when she entered the homely, unsentimental atmosphere of the Green Gables kitchen where an eight-year-old boy was crying grievously on the sofa.
"What is the matter, Davy ?" asked Anne, taking him up in her arms.
"Where are Marilla and Dora ?" "Marilla's putting Dora to bed," sobbed Davy, "and I'm crying 'cause Dora fell down the outside cellar steps, heels over head, and scraped all the skin off her nose, and--" "Oh, well, don't cry about it, dear.

Of course, you are sorry for her, but crying won't help her any.

She'll be all right tomorrow.

Crying never helps any one, Davy-boy, and--" "I ain't crying 'cause Dora fell down cellar," said Davy, cutting short Anne's wellmeant preachment with increasing bitterness.