Anne reveled in the world of color about her.
"Oh, Marilla," she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing in with her arms full of
gorgeous boughs, "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if
we just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it? Look at these maple branches. Don't
they give you a thrill—several thrills? I'm going to decorate my room with them."
"Messy things," said Marilla, whose aesthetic sense was not noticeably developed. "You clutter
up your room entirely too much with out-of-doors stuff, Anne. Bedrooms were made to sleep in."