This chapter is based on a scene from the movie You Can't Take It With You (1938), starring James Stewart and Jean Arthur. Direct quotes and actions from the scene are in bold.


"The Glen St. Mary Presbyterian Church is having a picnic next Sunday."

Anne, who was on hands and knees in her flower bed when Gilbert strolled into the garden, leaned back on her haunches and glanced up, tossing her head to swish a loose strand of hair away from her face.

"Oh, how lovely," said Anne, smiling. "Shall we go?"

"Of course," said Gilbert, plopping himself down heavily on the ground next to Anne. "It's a good chance to get acquainted with the Glen St. Mary folk. We've not been here very long yet and could stand to meet some more people."

"I agree wholeheartedly," said Anne, picking up her trowel. But before she become too absorbed in her gardening again, Gilbert reached for her chin and gently turned her face—flecked with dirt, but smiling still—towards his.

"Mr. and Mrs. Doctor Blythe will make their first social appearance," he said, grinning. Though it had been a month since he had first heard their two names joined together, he never tired of saying it himself.

Anne matched his grin with a blushing smile. "We'll have to be sure to make a good first impression then."

A few days later, Anne and Gilbert found themselves the center of the picnic; people in Glen St. Mary seemed to be just as curious as those in Avonlea, and all flocked around the new doctor and his wife. They found a familiar face in Captain Jim and stayed anchored to his shadow as much as they could. Once a break in the succession of introductions was found, Anne and Gilbert stole away to a shade tree on the church grounds and spread out on a blanket with their lunch. An autumn breeze stirred the leaves above and the sea beyond; both they watched and listened to contentedly as they snacked on chicken salad and fresh apples and plum pudding—hardly reminiscent of Marilla's, but still enjoyable. If anyone noticed their abscence, they dismissed it with a knowing smile and the excuse, "Newly-weds, you know—let them have their fun."

Once lunch was finished, Gilbert leaned back on the blanket, hands clasped behind his head, contentedly admiring his "dear little red-haired wife,"* as he had called her now and then in the past month. The wind swept its fingers through her hair, but she hardly seemed to notice it; her mind was wandering into dreamland, inspired by the beauty of the afternoon. Gilbert had little known how much time Anne spent day-dreaming until they had been married, nor how beautiful her gray eyes looked when she did so.

"You know, every time I think about how lucky I am, I feel like screaming," Gilbert said, beaming up at Anne.

Anne recalled herself back from her day-dreams and smiled down at Gilbert, cupping his cheek in her hand. "Is that so? And why are you so lucky, Dr. Blythe?"

Gilbert ignored the question, his smile slowly dropping. "Uh-oh, I feel a scream coming on right now."

Anne, still holding onto her smile, furrowed her brow. "Why, what—"

"Oh, yes, it's just starting right now in my toes," Gilbert continued, looking down at his wiggling toes. "Sort of a tingling sensation."

Anne was starting to catch on and dropped her hand from his cheek. "Gilbert—"

"Now it's coming up around my knees—"

Anne stared in disbelief. He surely wasn't going to pull one of his silly charades right here in the middle of a picnic, among strangers.

"It's traveling up my legs faster and faster and faster, " Gilbert said, feigning wide eyes as he sat up.

"Gilbert, you're not really going to scream?"

He followed the 'scream' with his hand, running it slowly up his legs and then to his stomach. "It's in my stomach now—I'm afraid it's got me, Anne."

Anne, horrified now, glanced around to see if anyone else was within earshot.

"It's going up and up and up and up—it's all over my body, now."

Anne shook her head violently. "No, no—"

Suddenly Gilbert clutched his throat, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. "It's in my throat now—what can I do?" He said to Anne's continuous head shakes, "It's fighting to get out!"

Anne gripped his hand. "Gilbert Blythe, don't you—"

But Gilbert still ignored her. "HERE IT GOES!"

Completely mortified at the thought of his screaming, Anne plugged her ears and involuntarily shrieked herself. "NOOO!"

Suddenly Anne and Gilbert were once again the center of congregation's full attention. Croquet mallets were dropped; conversations stalled; any spoonful of food on the way to one's mouth was suspended in mid-air. Everyone on the lawn stopped and stared in horror at the two of them.

Gilbert buried his hands in his face, certain that his career as a doctor in this town was dead in the water. Anne clapped her hand to her mouth and looked wildly around at the watching eyes. They had made an impression all right, but certainly not a good one. She was already mentally preparing herself for the fate of being known as "the new doctor's insane wife."

Captain Jim rushed over immediately. "What happened?"

Gilbert uncovered his face. Suddenly he saw a way of getting out of the situation with some dignity.

"What happened...what happ—well, a mouse went right past there," he stuttered, motioning to a patch of grass by the blanket.

"A mouse? In this place?"

"A mouse? What do you mean, a mouse? It was a rat, that long—" Gilbert held two fingers out at a considerable length, "—with hair on it."

"A rat! With hair on it!"

"Yes, about six of them," Gilbert went on, convinced that the more horrifying the tale, the better they came out looking. He shared a look with Anne, who was now trying not to laugh. "Weren't there six or seven of them?"

"Where?" Captain Jim demanded.

"Where?" Gilbert hadn't counted on producing evidence.

"Where!"

"Where—" Gilbert pointed in the general direction of the adjacent crowd. "They ran off near there."

Immediately everyone began to scurry and scream as the imaginary rats headed for them. Gilbert, seeing an opportunity to slip away unnoticed amidst the chaos, fed into their fears.

"There they go!" he shouted, pointing at another spot of grass.

As more screaming ensued, Gilbert picked Anne up from the ground and together they ran for their horse and buggy.

They laughed most of the way home, remembering the ladies of the congregation pulling up their skirts and screaming as the men stomped the ground, hoping to squash one of the rats.

"Well, Anne-girl," Gilbert said, "do you think we made an impression after all?"

Anne stopped laughing long enough to say, "No, but I'm certain your 'rats' did."