Agnes was reading L.M. Montgomery's Anne of Avonlea this afternoon when six-year-old Marie approached her. "So," asked Marie, eyeing the worn pages with some interest, "Is 'Anne of Beverly Hills' a good book?" Agnes laughed, looking up momentarily to say, "Not 'Beverly Hills,' Marie--Avonlea." Shrugging her shoulders, Marie ran off to tend to Raggedy Anne.
About an hour or so afterwards, all six of the children were outside taking advantage of the warm spring weather, when Marie called out, "Agnes, will you push me on the swing?" This time, not even looking up from her book, Agnes replied absently, "Sorry, Marie, not right now."
With that, Marie was left with no choice but to pump herself on the swings. As soon as she had worked up enough momentum to establish a pendulum-like rhythm, she began singing her own accompanying ditty, the likes of which I have not heard since "Bread and Jam for Frances":
"Agnes doesn't swing,
Agnes doesn't swing,
Agnes never swings,
Because,
She's too immersed*
In Aaaaannnnnne
of BEV--EEEEERRRRR--LLLLYYYYY HIIIILLLLSSSSS!"
*pronounced Im-maws-ed
Too funny ALice, love those girls!!
Posted by: Meredith | April 02, 2006 at 05:48 PM