01x06 - I Thought Nothing Could Be As Bad As Red Hair

[bunniefuu]

As winter drew to an end,

I was thirteen

and all wrapped up in

schoolwork for Miss Stacy.

Do you know how men propose?

Have you ever proposed, Matthew?

Well now, no.

Of course he hasn't.

Neither of us is married.

What's gotten into you now?

I'm writing a composition for school.

A grown-up, romantic story.

I'm finding it hard to imagine the proposal

because I have no experience to go by.

Do you think I should ask Mrs. Lynde?

What earthly use is it telling stories?

You can waste time on stuff and

nonsense when you're a grown woman.

Oh, but I won't be a little girl forever.

You're still a little girl now.

We only just turned in a composition.

The idea of Miss Stacy telling us to

write a story out of our own heads!

Why, it's as easy as wink.

It's easy for you because

you have an imagination.

I suppose you have your

composition all done?

Almost, but not quite.

It's a sad, sweet story.

Oh, I could cry like a

child just hearing that.

In two more years,

we'll be really grown up.

You're still a little girl now.

We'll be so much freer

to do as we like then.

In four more years,

we'll be able to put our hair up.

Oh, yes!

The Minstrel of the Woods!

What?

That's what I've decided to call him!

Oh, wait!

I have it, Diana. Why don't you

make him the hero of your story?

You must be joking!

Chapter 6

I Thought Nothing Could

Be As Bad As Red Hair

That's the spirit, Jimmy!

What children!

My story is about Cordelia, a regal

brunette with duskly-flashing eyes,

and Geraldine, a queenly blonde

with velvety-purple eyes.

two beautiful maidens who

lived in the same village

and were devotedly attached to each other.

Wait!

Shouldn't Geraldine have

red hair like you, Anne?

No, never.

Red hair wouldn't be proper

for the heroine of a story.

Do you think so?

I know so.

They simply must have midnight hair

like you or golden hair like Ruby!

And then there was Bertram—

Gilbert!

I've got it!

Sorry.

You're hopeless at this.

Me next.

Go for it!

Do you think those boys will ever grow up?

Nicely done.

And then there was Bertram, a young man

only lately returned to the village.

It's called

The Jealous Rival; or,

in Death Not Divided.

Bertram, young and handsome,

yet impoverished,

fell in love with the sixteen-year-old

Geraldine at first sight.

Then, one day

the horses pulling Geraldine's

carriage bolted.

Help!

But just then, Bertram came running,

and he saved Geraldine by a hair's breadth!

She fainted in his arms and he

carried her home three miles.

Goodness. And then?

Then what became of them?

Sweet love!

And soon enough, Bertram

proposed to Geraldine.

Oh, how lovely!

How did he do it?

Well

How did Bertram propose?

For all my imagination, Diana,

there are things that even I cannot write.

Are there really?

You're so good at that!

Do you think I could try, too?

S-Sure. Here.

Really? Thank you!

Ruby might be an authority on proposals,

having so many sisters married.

Let me think

My sister Susan's beau Malcolm said,

"What do you say, darling pet, if we get

hitched when my dad gives me the farm?"

And Susan said, "Yes—no—

I don't know—let me see."

And there they were, engaged.

Th-That's all?

Didn't he go on his knees?

Of course not!

That's not done nowadays.

I think I will write the proposal

from my imagination after all.

Yes.

Proposals?!

Don't take offense.

I've heard what Miss Stacy's

having them write.

A strange way to teach, I must say.

I fear she's wasting time

better spent on lessons.

Anne seems to enjoy it, though.

I don't wonder you've no

end of worries, Marilla.

She may be bright and sweet enough,

but her head is full of nonsense

and there's never any knowing what

shape it'll break out in next.

It's good to be home!

Hello, Anne.

Good day, Mrs. Lynde!

Good day to you!

Surely she could come

home with less racket.

Bertram went on his knees before

Geraldine and proposed!

So he did kneel!

Then Bertram said,

"Take these, though they pale

beside your radiant beauty,"

and gave her a diamond

ring and a ruby necklace

and told her they would go to

Europe for a wedding tour!

So Bertram wasn't impoverished!

No, he was immensely wealthy!

Sorry to keep you.

Oh, hey!

But Cordelia was simply furious when

Geraldine told her about the engagement.

All her affection for Geraldine

turned to bitter hate.

What?! But why?!

Because Cordelia was secretly

in love with Bertram herself!

No!

But she pretended to be

Geraldine's friend the same as ever.

One evening she lured Geraldine out and

But Bertram saw it all and he at

once plunged into the current,

exclaiming, "I will save thee,

my peerless Geraldine."

So they both died, then?

As for Cordelia, she went

insane with remorse

before the graves in which her bosom friend

and her first love reposed together.

I feel so bad for them!

What a sad story!

How can I write a lovely story like that?

I want to write one, too.

From this day forth, Anne,

we are your pupils!

This was how the story club

came into existence.

Diana, the people in your stories

die as soon as you introduce them.

I don't know what to do with them next.

Then perhaps you should

turn it into a mystery!

Make the Minstrel of the Woods

a great detective!

I have it!

That sounds like fun.

But can I really write it?

Never fear! I've millions of ideas.

Your story is too sensible, Jane.

Why don't you put some lovemaking into it?

What? But I'd feel so silly

reading it out loud.

Then make it so sensible it

will have a wholesome effect.

I know! Why don't you put a moral into it?

Write so all the good people are rewarded

and all the bad ones are suitably punished.

There's an idea.

Now, Ruby, you have far too many proposals.

Surely three is enough for—

Hey, are you listening?

So we decided that in the story club,

we'll each write a story every week

and read them to each other.

Reading stories is bad enough

but writing them is worse.

But we're so careful to put a

moral into them all, Marilla.

I'm sure that must have

a wholesome effect.

Well, I'm not so sure!

And so, the Minstrel of the Woods solved

the dreadful string of murders.

"The gluttons who ate too many poison

mushrooms got their just desserts,"

he said and departed back into

the depths of the wood.

Thank you, Diana Barry.

That was an interesting story.

And I see you have a talent for

leadership, Anne Shirley.

It kind of puzzles me.

Diana sent our very best

to her Aunt Josephine.

She's a great reader,

though she has a temper.

Miss Josephine Barry wrote back

that she had never read anything

so amusing in her life.

Well now, they must have been funny.

But they weren't, Matthew!

The stories were all very pathetic

and almost everybody died!

Jane and Ruby almost always cry when—

Mr. Allan laughed at the same place.

I meant that to be the most pathetic part.

It's a satisfaction to know that

I'm going home to a snapping wood fire,

instead of to the cold comfort of evenings

before Anne came to Green Gables.

Anne!

Where is that girl?

She's gadding off somewhere with Diana,

writing stories or practicing

dialogues or some such tomfoolery.

She's just got to be pulled up short

and sudden on this sort of thing.

Her head is full of nonsense!

But there! Here I am saying the very thing

I was so riled with Rachel Lynde for.

With all her faults, I never found her

disobedient or untrustworthy before

and I'm real sorry to find her so now.

Well now, I dunno.

She'll come hurrying and

breathless any moment now!

Maybe I should go meet

her down by the road.

I'll fetch a light.

Anne? Are you there?

Anne?

Have you been asleep, Anne?

What's wrong? Are you sick?

No.

Matthew, Anne is here!

Get right up this minute and come to supper—

No!

Please, Marilla, go away!

And don't look at me!

Anne Shirley, whatever

is the matter with you?

Oh, Marilla!

I'm in the depths of despair!

And I don't care who gets head in class

or writes the best composition any more!

I don't suppose I'll ever

be able to go anywhere again.

My career is closed!

Anne Shirley!

Anne?

Marilla

Look at my hair.

What have you done to your hair?

I've been expecting something

q*eer for some time.

I'll be.

Dyed your hair! Didn't you know

it was a wicked thing to do?

I meant to be extra good in

other ways to make up for it.

Well, if I'd decided to dye my hair,

I'd have dyed it a decent color at least.

But I didn't mean to dye it green.

He said it would turn my hair

a beautiful raven black.

Anne, who are you talking about?

The peddler that was here this afternoon.

A peddler!

I think he had a very kind heart.

He told me he was working hard

for his wife and children.

It touched my heart.

I wanted to buy something from him to

help him in such a worthy object.

He had a big box full of

very interesting things.

Then all at once, I saw

the bottle of hair dye.

I only had fifty cents, and he

said it cost seventy-five,

but, seeing it was me,

he'd sell it for fifty.

Forgive me.

Oh, Marilla, when I saw the

dreadful color it turned my hair,

I repented of being wicked, I can tell you.

And I've been repenting ever since.

Well, I hope you'll

repent to good purpose.

How is it?

It's no use, Anne.

The peddler said it wouldn't wash off.

Then I guess he spoke the

truth about one thing.

At least take a good look at

where your vanity has led you.

Never fear, Anne.

I haven't told anyone about your hair.

I'll take the secret to my grave.

I am Anne the green-haired of Green Gables,

the unhappiest girl in

Prince Edward Island.

I've steeled myself!

Please cut it off at once,

Marilla, and have it over.

You're really certain?

I am!

I'm going to weep all the time you're

cutting it off, if it won't interfere.

It won't.

I'll never, never look at myself

again until my hair grows.

Yes, I will, too!

I'll see how ugly I am.

And I won't try to

imagine it away, either.

This is me.

This is me now.

What happened, Anne?

What happened to your hair?

Don't you know, Diana?

You are her best friend.

You look like a scarecrow!

Duh-dun!

I never thought I could like

my red hair, of all things,

but now I know I did, because it

was so long and thick and curly

and it suited me.

Now, let's begin our lesson.

Next Time

I've Been Making Mistakes,

but Each Mistake Has Helped

to Cure Me of My Shortcomings