Moody's Recitation

7/31/2019 Moody's Recitation

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Moodys Recitation

by

Rob MacDonald

Rob MacDonald 1996

(First Draft, 9694 words)

My name is Moody, spoke the gangly boy as he tramped towards the schoolhouse.

Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. I live in Avonlea. He said this quietly to himself, over and over

again, as he had day after day, for the past three weeks, on his mid-morning trek to school from the

two storey farmhouse he shared with his mother and father, two sisters and two brothers.

Three weeks earlier, on the first day of September, the first day back to school for the year,

Moody had been late arriving. He had been helping his father, Elijah, and his elder brother, Jam,

with the morning farm chores. It was not as if he was slow with the chores, and therefore late to

school; its that he had such a large number of morning chores to finish, so many that it was

impossible for him to even try to make it to school on time. It was his parents decision to sacrifice

some schooling for chores.

For Moody, neither school nor chores appealed to him. He disliked them both, was onlyslightly better at farm chores than he was at schooling. And he wasnt very good at schooling. If he

was ever asked to choose (which he never was) between schooling or chores, he would quickly

pick schooling because there was no heavy lifting with school. In school, he just sat there and got

yelled at daily. With chores he got yelled at daily as well, but he was also exhausted at the end of

the hard, physical day.

The topic of Schooling vs. Chores was often debated at the MacPherson farmhouse that

summer before the present school year began. There had been talk, all of it from Elijah, of keeping

Moody out of school altogether, at least until after the fall harvest, so that he could work full time

on the farm during its busiest period. Farmin is more importanter than educatin, Elijah would

say. After all, when Elijah was Moodys age, he had gladly left school (which he neither liked, nor

was competent at) for good; in fact, he volunteered to quit, in order to help his father run this self-

same farm, first owned by his fathers fathers father. Elijah was of the opinion that most of what


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you could get out of schooling was an unnecessary waste. Yes, it should learn you your readin,

so as to able you to read the bible, he would admit, and learn you how to write your name like I

could. But other than that, its a waste of six hours of workable daylight, not to mention a waste of

two hands and a strong back.

And when you got right down to the brass tacks of the issue, even reading and writing

wasnt that necessary on the farm, as Jam proved every day. Unlike Moody, who was a tall and

lanky boy, Jam was stocky and, as Elijah, a like-wise stumpy fellow, liked to say to the men at The

Store, builted like a brick shithouse, and as strong as the smell of one. Hed then spit his tobacco

juice and add with pride, Just like me.

What he didnt add for the men at the Avonlea General Store, but what they all added in

their own brains (something Elijah could not do, by the way: adding and subtracting in his brain),

was that the brick part of that shithouse metaphor applied to Jams intelligence as well as his

physicality, in that a brick and Jams brain were both dense. Jam had left school after his third

year; was actually asked to stay away by then-Headmaster, Mr. Bottomly, because he was a

distracted distraction to the other students. That suited Elijah MacPherson just fine. The school

had no need for Jam, but Elijah and the farm did. Elijah had him working ever since.

You dont need to read to bail hay good, said Elijah to his wife, in reference to the topic

of Moodys education.

God didnt make soft-skinned boys so they could bail hay good, Elijahs wife countered.

She liked to refer to Moody as soft skinned. She truly believed that Moody had a destiny

awaiting him and his destiny did not lie in milk cows.

Elijahs wife, Moodys mother, Marnie, didnt want Moody to bail hay all his life, and told

them so. Her desire for him, one that she spoke of often, was that he become a minister, like her

brother, Alan Cameron. She knew that a minister needed to know more than simply how to read

and spell his name. At the very least he would have to know how to spell other peoples names

when the time came to write their names on the marriage certificates of any people he married.

Moody, who believed he could manage to learn how to spell other peoples names, and

who couldnt imagine a minister lifting anything heavier than a cross, immediately took a shine to

this idea of his Mothers and vowed to follow through on it. Elijah, too, while not wanting to give

up a free pair of hands this fall in exchange for hired help, had to admit that it would be nice to

have a minister in the family. And once Moody got the Ministerin, Elijah said, hell be


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never have occurred to him), but because he had spent the last ten minutes trying to outrun a nest

of bees that he had stumbled upon and angered trying to get to their honey. When he burst into the

one room schoolhouse, he had burst into the middle of the perennial First Day Back To School

Introductions. Tommy Sloane had just finished reciting his name, and was about to tell the class

where he lived, when all heads and eyes turned toward the slamming door at the back of the

classroom.

Bees! shouted Moody, brushing away any that might have got in his clothes. Knowing

Moodys predisposition for foolish behaviour, the students hollered with laughter. Moody began to

snicker a little, too, although he didnt really know why he should.

I would think that a tardy boy would endeavour to enter the classroom with a little more

stealth, said Mr. Phillips, the Headmaster, in his high, nasally voice, instantly quashing the

laughter of all. Well, now that you have our undivided attention, you might as well be next with

your First Day Back To School Introduction to the new members of the class. Mr. Phillips

motioned for Moody to come and stand beside him, at the front of the class. Moody did just that,

loping up the left of the two aisles that divided the classroom into the various grades, youngest to

the left, oldest to the right. He was very out of breath.

Introduce yourself, commanded Mr. Phillips, after Moody had settled into his Stand At

Attention.

Moody was dizzy from being out of breath, as well as being the unexpected centre of

attention. Although he often became the centre of attention due to his foolishness, it always

unnerved him. The attention always came as a surprise to him, because the foolishness often

sneaked up on him. Many times he wouldnt have a clue that he had even been foolish, and would

laugh along, as if he was in total control of the situation.

As a result of the attention this day, he got nervous and couldnt concentrate as hard as he

might otherwise have been capable of, and blurted, My name is Avonlea. I live in Moody

Spurgeon MacPherson. He smiled, glad to get through it and didnt realise his mistake.

The classroom roared with laughter. After the moment it took Mr. Phillips to settle the

class down by cracking his pointer on the blackboard, he took Moody by the ear, and pushed him

into the corner. Maybe staring at two walls and a corner for the rest of the day will make you

think twice before trying to pull funny again.


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Mr. Phillips knew well about the distracting MacPherson family. When he first began

teaching at Avonlea five years ago, he had read the notes that Mr. Bottomly had left, before

retiring, in regards to the various students the next teacher would be adopting. There were more

than a fair share of notes about the MacPhersons, mostly Jam and his antics, many of which

involved sticking his finger in a door jam and having somebody slam the door (hence the

nickname), some about Moody and his various attempts to pull funny. There were no negative

notes about Minnie. And of course there were no notes about the twins, Roper, the Girl, and

Moper, the Boy, because this year was their very first year of schooling.

Mr. Phillips looked at Moodys back as he faced where the two walls met, and decided to

take the bull by the horns. It was the first day of school and, by God, he would make an example of

Moody, right here and now, set the tone for the year.

Mr. MacPherson, said the headmaster, surveying the rest of the students, making sure to

make stern-eye contact with each, for the duration of the month of September, you will correctly

recite your introduction five times daily. For each time you say it incorrectly, you will stay an hour

after school that day as punishment.

My name is Moody. Moody Spurgeon MacPherson.

What else?

Oh, yes. I live in Avonlea.

So far, in the three weeks since, Moody had only had to stay after class five days, for a total of

seven hours; four days he made one mistake, meaning one hour detention each day, but the last

time he made a mistake it was in three of the five recitations for a total of three hours that day.

Really, that day, he had made two real mistakes, but decided on the last recitation, before school

was let out, to purposely err, just to give the class a laugh.It would be worth it, thought Moody on

that day. Whats another hour when you already got two?

So he misspoke his final recitation of the day, saying, My name is Arnold Johnson and I live in

Avonlea, a reference to the local retarded boy who sold matches down at the General Store. The

class laughed, more uproariously than the other six times he erred. He was given the extra hours

detention, and felt good about it. Unfortunately, none of the other students gave Moodys on-

purpose error another thought and continued to look upon Moody in the same way: as the idiot

they always thought him to be. Some of them even started calling him Arnold Johnson. With the


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no-gaining of respect from classmates, combined with the fact that the third hour of detention that

night resulted in him missing supper (he had been, in conspiracy with his siblings, telling his

parents that he was staying late to study the bible), Moody decided to try and not make mistakes in

his introduction anymore. On purpose or not. He didnt like missing supper. With the prospect of

more nights without supper planted firmly in the front of his brain, he did well from then on

remembering the recitation.

He didnt do so well with the school song.

If he had spent as much time, or even half as much time, on his way to school every day

reciting the school song, he would likely have been able to get through the morning singing of it

without verbally stumbling, as was his normal way. But the thought to practice the school song

instead of his personal mantra never entered his brain, because incorrectly singing the school song

never worried him. He couldnt get into trouble over messing up the school song because he sang

so quietly, and the other voices drowned him out. With his personal recitation it was him, alone,

and that had all kinds of possibilities for mistake.

The closest the thought of practising the school song instead of his mantra ever got to entering his

brain was one day, last week, on the way to school when he thought to himself that if the school

song was My name is Moody. Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. I live in Avonlea, he would be able

to remember it when the class sung it.

But it wasnt. It was Avonlea we love thee, to thee we pledge our alma mater. There was more to

it, Moody knew, but for the life of him he couldnt remember how it went. He always got confused

wondering what alma mater was and mumbled through most of the rest; something about heads,

or hands, he thought. And, of course, something else.

The something else he knew. It was Hearts, forever. That part he could remember, and always

sang loudly. He knew the hearts forever part of the song, and could remember it because it meant

something to him, he could identify with it. He knew hearts forever because he had given his

heart forever to a girl in class. The newest girl in class, Anne Shirley. The only thing was that she

didnt know, not officially, that he had given his heart to her. Not yet. But every time he sang

hearts forever, he glanced to her and smiled.

Anne Shirley, who was new that summer to the community, had started the new school

year with the rest of the students, in September. He hadnt noticed her that first day, September

First, because he spent almost all of it facing the corner. On the second day of school, the second


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day of September, he did notice her. He had been late again, of course, due to chores (which the

illegible note, written by Elijah MacPherson, he handed to Mr. Phillips that morning attempted to

explain would be the case for a month or two) and was immediately asked to stand and recite his

introduction. Moody had been practising all morning. He was confidant that he would get it right

and stood up straight, in front of the class, looking through the crowd of expectant children, and

opened his mouth to speak. He recited My name is and then he saw her.

Anne Shirley. Of course he didnt know her name at that point. He only immediately

thought of her as The Most Beautiful Girl In The World. At that moment, the moment of Love At

First Sight, his mind momentarily collapsed, and his heart jumped up out of his chest, out his

gaping mouth, and flew across the room. He saw his heart bounce off the chest of The Most

Beautiful Girl In The World and fly back to him, into his mouth and back down into his chest.

When his heart left his mouth it was empty; when it came back, it was full of Love. Love for The

Most Beautiful Girl In The World. No one but him saw this happen. Everyone merely believed that

the dummy had forgotten his recitation. After the five seconds of silence while he stood there at the

front of the class with his mouth open, the five seconds it took his heart to leave empty and come

back to his body full of love, the five seconds while Mr. Phillips and the students wondered just

how dumb this boy really was not able to remember his name, Moody Spurgeon MacPhersons life

was suddenly and wholly consumed with purpose. He was going to marry The Most Beautiful Girl

In The World.

The rest of the recitation came out of his mouth a moment later, sounding, he thought, like

the drunken unintelligible mumblings, of his father on Saturday nights. He had to stay one hour

after school.

For the next three weeks, Moody Spurgeon MacPherson thought of little else than The Most

Beautiful Girl In The World, and his recitation. He had tried to think of different ways he might

approach her, to strike up a conversation, but anytime he did his mind drew a blank. On the rare

occasions when he was able to imagine himself getting so close to her that he could say something,

anything, to her, he got so nervous and uptight in his dream that once he actually fell off the desk

bench onto the floor. He claimed that he had dozed off, and slipped, and that normally he wouldnt

have fallen to the floor, but, rather, into Gilbert Blythe. But Gilbert Blythe, who usually sat next to

him, wasnt there to catch him, so he fell.


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Last year, Mr. Phillips had put Moody, three years behind and two years older than him,

next to Gilbert Blythe, the smartest boy in the school. Mr. Phillips did this because, he stated to the

rest of the class, the move was an experiment to see if some of Gilberts smarts would rub off on

Moody. The experiment, to date, Mr. Phillips would declare every Friday afternoon handing out

test results, is failing.

But now, Moody began to wish that the experiment would succeed, that even a little of

Gilberts smarts would rub off. Moody found himself, for the first time in his life, wishing he was

smarter than he was. Before, he had no reason to want to be smarter. Now he most certainly did.

He knew that if he was smarter he wouldnt be so shy about just going up to Her and talking. If he

was smarter hed know what to talk about. After all, it was clear that Anne Shirley (he now knew

her name) was smart. And imaginative. And didnt tolerate foolishness. As far as he was concerned

that was three strikes against him. But there was no chance of Gilberts smarts rubbing off on him

now because Gilbert was away, visiting cousins in New Brunswick and wouldnt be back until

after the middle of the month.

Anne Shirley, for the most part, ignored Moody. But that didnt bother him very much

because she, for the most part, ignored everyone in class. Everyone except Diana Barry. It seemed

odd to Moody how quickly the two girls became best of friends, and he wondered what it was

about Diana that was so special. After all, Diana wasnt exactly smart. In fact, most of the children

called her ditzy, and Moody was pretty sure that meant dumb. He figured it was because she was

fun (thats what some of the older boys said, anyway), and he knew he could be fun too. After all,

how many times was he able to make the children in the class laugh? Whatever the inexplicable

reason of the two girls bond of friendship, it provided Moody with hope that one day he too could

become a kindred spirit of Anne Shirley.

The only times during the day that he noticed Anne Shirley paying any attention to him

was during his five Introductory Recitations. Every time he would recite it, she would be watching

him with what he thought was a hopeful look on her face, almost as if she was encouraging him to

succeed. And when he would recite it correctly, and some of the other children would Boo,

wishing he had failed, shed have a nice, tender smile, as if to say Well done, Moody. This, of

course, had the affect on Moody of placing her even farther out of his reach, even higher on the

pedestal inscribed The Most Beautiful Girl In The World.


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And so, for Moody Spurgeon MacPherson, those five times each day when hed recite his

Introduction became special times for him and his future bride. He began to look forward to each

one as he was able to shut out the rest of the world, and only spoke his introduction for her. To her.

Each time she would be smiling, encouragingly. And when he began to direct his hearts forever

line from the school song to her, that became another moment just for them. Although everybodys

head would turn to him when he sang it, because he sang the words so loudly and with such

conviction, all that mattered to him was that Her head turned to him. It became another moment of

eye contact between them. And those moments of eye contact became everything for Moody

Spurgeon MacPherson, who lived in Avonlea.

Moody began to read so much meaning into those brief moments of eye contact. He would

speak to her, silently, through those moments, his emotions, his feelings of deep love travelling

magically through the air into her eyes. In this way, Moody believed, he was bonding with her.

And he was sure she was speaking back, bonding, to him with her eyes. And while he could tell

that she wasnt reciprocating with the same magnitude of love as he was giving her, at least the

look in her eyes was a positive one, and that was better than nothing. For the first three weeks, for

a boy who was used to having nothing, better than nothing was enough for Moody.

But today, three weeks into the new school year, the eighteenth day of September, as he walked to

school after performing his morning chores on the farm, seventeen days after he first laid eyes on

her, Anne Shirley, The Most Beautiful Girl In The World, Moody Spurgeon MacPherson decided

he would, knew he now could, advance to the next stage in their relationship. Walking to school

this day, he began to memorise an addendum he made to his introductory recitation. He planned to

speak it today, speak it to the class, but for her, when he was called upon by the teacher.

My name is Moody. Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. I live in Avonlea. I am in love with the most

beautiful girl in the world, Anne Shirley, and I am going to marry her. He smiled at the thought of

being married to such a beautiful and smart woman. He was sure she would want to marry him.

After all, in all the times he would steal glances at her during school, he never once saw her look at

any other boy with the kind, tender loving looks she gave to him. In fact, she often lashed out with

words of hatred to the other boys, especially when theyd make fun of her looks. Moody knew she

was sensitive about the way she looked, and had once overheard her talking to Diana about the

ugly colour of her hair. Moody had wanted to run up to her and tell her that he thought her red hair


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was beautiful and that she was beautiful, and would she marry him, but of course he didnt. He

would wait until his recitation.

Moody practised the new recitation all the way to school. He had it, he believed, down

perfectly. Every inflection, the nuances of each syllable of each word would be spoken with such

perfection, full of such a deep love and devotion that he wouldnt be surprised if more girls than

Anne would fall in love with him. But fall as they may, none could have him but his Anne. The

only falling girl he planned to catch was her.

Moody quietly opened the door to the schoolhouse and slipped inside. Over the past three weeks,

he became quite proficient at sneaking in with stealth, as Mr. Phillips suggested on the Day of the

Wasps (his sister, Minnie, had defined the word stealth for him). There he stood, at the back of

the classroom, everyone oblivious to his presence as they all had their backs to him. Even Mr.

Phillips, who was not standing up at the front instructing the class on seemingly pointless Latin

words, or mathematics, or whatever, but who was sitting on the long bench at the back of the class,

just in front of where Moody now stood, didnt notice him. A thought raced through the back of

Moodys mind, gone before it could be observed. The thought was that if Moody had a shovel, he

could easily smash Mr. Phillips head in right now. But the thought never had time to plant itself in

Moodys brain, and Mr. Phillips continued to sit beside Prissy Andrews, and whisper in her ear.

It would become a common sight in the classroom that year to see Mr. Phillips sitting beside

Prissy. The reason for this was supposed to be that Mr. Phillips was there to help Prissy in her

studying for the entrance exam into Queens Academy in Charlottetown, but the common belief, a

belief that Moody held, was that he was head over heels in love with her. This belief would prove

to be a truth, as the Fates would soon decide that Prissy would not go to Queens Academy, but

would instead become pregnant and during the next summer would marry Mr. Phillips, and that

this was Mr. Phillips last year teaching the children of Avonlea School.

If Moody had known all that the Fates had in store for Mr. Phillips, he undoubtedly would

have felt a kindredship with him, because Moody, too, hoped to be marrying his secret schoolroom

love next summer. But there was no way Moody could know that, and so he looked down at the

greasy headed teacher as his murderous shovel smashing head thought bounced out of harms

way and into oblivion.

When he looked up at the rest of the class, Moody thought he noticed something different. He

looked around carefully. Not something, he soon realised, but someone. Gilbert Blythe was back in


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school, after visiting his cousins over in New Brunswick all summer. Today, apparently, was his

first day back to school, and he was sitting in his usual seat, beside Moodys now empty space.

Moody didnt really care that much for Gilbert Blythe. Gilbert, after all, was perhaps the smartest

boy in the whole school. He ordinarily would have thought him the smarteststudentin the whole

school, but now that Anne Shirley was there, he had doubts that Gilbert was smarter than her. But

he was the smartest boy, and that was enough of a reason for a dumb boy like himself to not care

for him.

And now Moody was seeing another reason, a much more valid reason, for not liking

Gilbert. Standing there at the back of the room, Moody had a clear view of the whole class. He

could see Gilbert, who, rather than reading in his reader as he should have been, was spending far

too much time, Moody felt, out of his reader, stealing glances in the direction of Anne Shirley.

And likewise, he saw that Anne Shirley was glancing over towards Gilbert Blythe, then

whispering to that old crow-head Diana Barry. From the way the two girls would talk, and then

peek over to him, they were talking about Gilbert Blythe, Moody was sure of it!

What was going on? In all the hours in the past weeks that Moody had spent stealing his own

glances of Anne Shirley, not once did he see her trying to steal glances of any of the other boys.

Not once. Why now? What was so special about Gilbert Blythe? Okay, he was smart, and maybe

good looking, Moody didnt know about that kind of thing, but that didnt give him any right to be

looked at by her. How dare he? Come in here, three weeks after school starts, and then

immediately try and steal his girl away from him. Wheres my shovel? Moody didnt hear that

thought, he was too busy thinking he had better act quickly upon his earlier devised plan, his

revised Personal Introduction, and put his hook in Anne Shirley before Gilbert got to do it.

Moody looked at Mr. Phillips, who was still whispering in Prissys ear, causing her to blush and

giggle.

Mr. Phillips, sir, said Moody quickly. Im here. Im ready to recite my

Mr. Phillips waved his hand in the direction of Moody, as if shooing away a fly. Not now,

Moody, said Mr. Phillips, glancing briefly to him, and then turned back to Prissys ear, Im

instructing Miss Andrews on her Italian. Its the romance language. Prissy giggled and was

blushing a deeper red.

Moody looked over to Gilbert and thought he saw him wink at Anne Shirley. And by the shocked

look on Anne Shirleys face, and by the way she quickly turned away and began to ignore Gilbert,


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Moody was sure that a wink most definitely just occurred. Moody knew that winks led to naughty

things, and naughty things often led to marriage. His parents had said that was how they got

together. He was more determined than ever to recite his new introduction. He had no time to lose.

He began to tap Mr. Phillips lightly on the shoulder, whispering Mr. Phillips over and over,

never once taking his eyes off Anne Shirley, who, at least, was now not looking at all in the

direction of Gilbert, but rather, out the window toward the lake. At first Mr. Phillips ignored the

tapping, but when it became more forceful, and it left his shoulder and began to hit the back of his

head, he could ignore it no longer.

Moody, what is it!? yelled the teacher, scaring the young students in the primer class, to which

Roper and Moper MacPherson belonged. All the students stopped what they were doing and

looked toward the back of the class, Anne and Gilbert included.

She is looking at me, thought Moody, closing his eyes tightly. He wanted to look directly into her

eyes and show her, right now, with the intensity of his gaze how much he loved her, as he had

done so often in the past three weeks, but he was unprepared for this unscheduled meeting-of-eyes

and he knew his eyes were full of jealousy and hate for Gilbert and he wouldnt want her to see

him glancing at her with those feelings and misinterpret them as being for her.

He quickly turned his head to the other side of the class, towards Gilbert, towards the

object of those negative feelings, and opened his eyes. When he saw Gilbert, with that cock-sure

grin of his, turn his gaze away from Moody, turn before Moodys stare of hatred could register,

and look back towards Anne, and wink again, the jealous rage rose even higher in him.

Moody was staring at Gilbert, who was looking at Anne. He didnt know if Anne was looking at

Gilbert, he couldnt afford to glance at her now, but if they were looking at each other, Moody

knew he had to interject himself into their glancing conversation. He had to interrupt Gilberts

look, and catch her eye himself. But he couldnt look at her with this rage in his eyes, that would

scare her off.

It seemed to Moody that it took him minutes to consciously suppress the negative feelings. In fact,

it only took seconds. Once he started concentrating hard on good thoughts, all of which centred on

Anne Shirley, he was quickly able to swallow the jealousy and rage he felt towards Gilbert and

replace it with feelings of his total, undying love for Anne. He knew he had to, now more than

ever, to give Anne the look, to gaze deep into her eyes and with a look, The Look, and show her

how much he loved her. Now, with those familiar feelings of undying love, only now they were


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stronger than ever, back in his thoughts, he swung his head back towards Anne, and, joy of joys,

she was still looking at him, as most of the other children were. She wasnt looking at Gilbert. No

one was looking at Gilbert.

He had to act fast, before Gilbert managed to grab her attention again. He didnt have time,

Moody thought, to go through the process of actually speaking his words of love to Anne. He

knew he could do it with a look, and she would still understand. Ignoring the gaze of everyone

else, Moody stared deep into Annes eyes and concentrated on his new Personal Introduction. He

spoke it to her quickly, with his mind.My name is Moody. Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. I live in

Avonlea. I am in love with the most beautiful girl in the world, Anne Shirley, and I am going to

marry her.

Moody saw Annes smile and thought,Its working! She hears it! It was working so well

that she wasnt just smiling, she was beginning to giggle. Shes so happy, shes laughing! When he

heard some of the younger students begin to snicker, Moody realised he was momentarily cross-

eyed, and blinked, breaking the connection he had had with his True Love. As the other children

continued to laugh at him, Moody had a horrible thought. Was that why she was smiling and

laughing, too? Moody began tapping Mr. Phillips head again.

What is it, this bothering me? yelled Mr. Phillips.

Moody ignored Mr. Phillips query. He knew that he could have no doubt in his mind. The

telepathic connection route wasnt good enough. She had to hear, with her ears, his Personal

Introduction, and he had to hear, with his ears, his True Love say Yes, she would marry him. It was

the only way to be certain.

He would speak it now, he had to speak it now. He would march up to the front of the class

and proclaim his love for Anne to the entire class, beating Gilbert to the punch. Im going to

speak my introduction now, declared Moody Spurgeon MacPherson, to Anne, to Gilbert, to Mr.

Phillips, to the world, and to the Fates.

What? asked Mr. Phillips, momentarily taken aback by Moodys forceful declaration. Oh, yes,

that. Very well, get on with it.

Moody marched up to the front of the class and stood tall and straight. He took a deep breath in, let

it out, and ran the recitation quickly through his brain. My name is Moody. Moody Spurgeon

MacPherson. I live in Avonlea. I am in love with the most beautiful girl in the world, Anne Shirley,

and I plan to marry her.


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Perfect, he thought.

He took another deep breath, and looked around the class. Most of the class, including Gilbert, was

looking at him, as was the case whenever he spoke his introduction. Besides the fact that it was a

momentary diversion from doing schoolwork, some of the older boys had starting making bets as

to whether or not they thought Moody would mess up. The whole class knew of these bets and so

had some interest in the outcome.

After he took in the gazes of the other children, gaining confidence in that at least while

Gilbert was watching him, he seemed to momentarily forget about Anne, Moody slowly turned his

head to Anne. He was very nervous, because what he was about to say was going to affect his and

Anne Shirleys life forever. When he turned towards Anne Shirley, he saw that she, too, was still

looking at him. Shes waiting for it. She did understand my look, and now shes waiting to hear it

out loud. He breathed in deeply, trying to maintain his composure. This is it! Anne, wont you be

happy! In a moment, you and mell be engaged to be married!

But a second after the moment Moody had made eye contact with Anne Shirley, a second before

the moment he was about to spill his soul to her, and to Gilbert Blythe, and to the Fates, Anne

Shirley looked away from him and out the window.

And it was the way she looked away from him that shocked Moody. He didnt know the

word for it, but that didnt stop him from feeling the total lack of interest in him that she displayed

just before she looked away. The word that he didnt know, but which he experienced was apathy.

And he had experienced the wrong side of it. He wasnt apathetic, far from it, as far as a man can

be who is about to propose to his future wife, but the look she gave him left no doubt in his mind

that she was totally apathetic as to what he was about to say. She looked away from him as

someone might look away from a dog whose chasing of tail now bored them. What was this?

Doesnt she know whats about to happen here? Moody paused a moment, confused, and slowly

let out the breath he now realised he had been holding.

Mr. Phillips had seen that most everyone was looking at Moody, as well. He quickly

smashed his wooden pointer down on the desk, making a terrific cracking sound. Everybody get

your eyes back to your readers, yelled Mr. Phillips, and they immediately did. Go on, Moody,

the teacher snapped, dont be wasting my time.

Moody looked at him. What was he going to do? Moody had been so good at convincing himself

that the looks he and Anne Shirley had shared over the past three weeks had meant something deep


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and intimate for both of them. The thought that she might reject him did not enter his brain for well

over a week. Where he had feelings of doubt and uncertainty in the first week of their courtship,

they had been replaced this week by the utter certainty that they belonged to each other and that

they both knew it. But with the apathetic look she gave him, and the totally disinterested way she

turned away from him, as if whatever in the world she turned away to would be infinitely more

exciting than what she had just been looking at, the possibility that she might reject his proposal

suddenly came crashing over him like a wave. In fact, it wasnt a possibility now, it had happened.

She had rejected him. Rejected him with a look away.

Get on with it, Moody, screamed Mr. Phillips.

Moody glanced at Anne Shirley. She was looking out the window, so very not looking at him. So

obviously not in love with him. What had he been thinking? Was he really so stupid that he

thought that she would even be slightly in love with him, even slightly interested in him? He

decided he was so stupid and hated himself for it. He hated his stupid dumb stupid family for

making him so dumb, and for giving him such a dumb stupid name.

He drew in his breath.

My name is Moody. Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. I live in Avonlea.

He glanced at her again. Still, she stared out the window. She must really hate me, he thought, not

looking at me like that. Thats all, he mumbled and then let out what was left of his breath,

walked to his seat beside Gilbert and sat down.

After lunch, Moody was feeling a little better about himself. He had had time to rationalise things

out. And the very fact that he was able to rationalise what went wrong that morning proved to him

that he wasnt so dumb after all.

He began to think upon the past three weeks. Things had been going so well, he thought.Every day

wed look at each other and there was something there, between us. Im sure of it. It was so strong

I couldnt have imagined it.

With this firmly decided, he went about figuring out what went wrong today. He at first thought

that maybe she understood his new look, the look of a man who was about to propose, and got

scared. That was natural, he thought, that a girl get nervous at the prospect of proposal. Its a big

step, after all.


16/21

But he eventually discounted that because nerves didnt explain that look she had before she turned

away from him. If it had been nerves, she would have looked excited, giddy, scared. There would

have been life in her eyes. But that look had nothing. Total disinterest. Boredom. No girl would

look so bored knowing they were about to be proposed to by a future minister.

As he was sitting there in his seat, trying to justify how that look could be interpreted as nerves due

to impending matrimony, a new thought hit him. Actually, the thought was a result of a hit in the

arm that he received from the fist of Gilbert. Gilbert and Moody, since last year when they were

paired together would play a game where theyd try to punch each other in the arm when Mr.

Phillips wasnt looking. The object of the game was to hit the other with such force as to cause

them to yell or groan, thus getting the recipient of the blow in trouble. Usually it was Moody who

got in trouble, regardless of whether he was the giver or receiver of the punches.

And when Gilbert punched him today on the arm, Moody suddenly noticed what had

changed in the routine of the classroom from over the past three weeks? It was Gilbert. Gilbert and

his punching ways. Gilbert and his winking ways. Of course, Gilbert was the reason. It was

somehow because of him that she had that different look. A new boy in the class, well, new to her,

at least, was more than enough reason for her to get confused and get a disinterested look on her

face when she was about to be proposed to. And especially when that new boy winked at her. No

wonder you were flustered, Anne, thought Moody, rubbing his arm where Gilbert had punched

him.

He looked over to where Anne was sitting. She was looking over in his direction! She was

probably trying to apologise for getting confused earlier.Its okay, I accept your apology thought

Moody, and with a look that said the same, sent the thought through the air towards his future

bride. Only, when the thought got to her, Moody was horrified to realise that she wasnt looking at

him to receive it. What was she lookingGilbert! Gilbert was looking over at Anne Shirley,

smiling. She was looking back at him, but at least she looked mad.

Moody was getting mad at Gilbert, too. Madder than he had ever been at anyone in his life . Hes

ruining my chances to tell Anne and the world I love her. Moody decided action had to be taken,

and began to come up with a plan.

He knew that Gilbert was interested in Anne. It was obvious by the childish behaviour he was

displaying, winking like that. He wasnt worried any more about Anne being interested in Gilbert

because he had once again convinced himself that she was totally in love with him. But, he


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realised, Anne wouldnt be able to show that love while this other silly boy was bothering her. He

was too distracting. So, what Moody finally realised had to be done, was to show Gilbert that he

had no chance in gaining the affections of Miss Shirley. Only, Moody knew, that the only way that

Gilbert would accept such a realisation was to hear it from the girl whom he was trying to woo.

Moody knew just how to arrange it so that Anne Shirley would definitively exclaim her hatred of

Gilbert. He looked towards the back of the room, and sure enough, Mr. Phillips was deep in

discussion with Prissy, oblivious to the world around them.It would take an explosion to bring

Mr. Phillips back to reality, thought Moody.And thats exactly what Ill provide.

Moody turned towards Gilbert. At least, for the moment, Gilbert wasnt trying to bother Anne. He

was reading in his reader. Moody quickly looked at Anne and saw that she was doing the same.

Gilbert, whispered Moody, welcome back.

Gilbert looked up from his reader. Thanks.

Moody saw Gilbert look over to where Anne was reading her reader. Moody was just about

to ask Gilbert what he thought of Anne Shirley when Gilbert asked, Hey, Moody, whos the new

girl?

This plan is going to be easier to pull off than I thought. Who? replied Moody. He laughed to

himself at the disinterested way he said the word. Who? Of Course he knew who Gilbert was

asking about.Anne Shirley, The Most Beautiful Girl In The World, screamed Moodys brain.Ill

shovel your headalso echoed around deep in there.

The new girl, there, said Gilbert. The redhead.

Oh, her, said Moody, as casually as could be. He was impressed with his acting abilities. I

guess shes Anne, or something.

Anne, huh?

Yeah, said Moody, looking hard into his reader. He smiled. But her close friends call her

Carrots.

Oh, yeah? said Gilbert, still looking over at the girl who was still reading. Id like to be her

close friend, you know what I mean?

Moody looked at Gilbert, who was looking at- no, ogling- Moodys future wife. You like her do

you, Gil? asked Moody, calmly, with seemingly little interest. Shovel.

Oh, I dont know. Yeah, shes all right, said Gilbert. He looked at Moody. Why, you dont?

I havent given it much thought.


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You dont give anything much thought, laughed Gilbert.

Oh, yeah? Now came the dangerous part. Moody knew there was a chance this part of the

plan could backfire on him and ruin everything, but somehow he was sure it would work out the

way he had planned. He took a breath. You should talk to her if you like her. Go over there and

call her carrots, said Moody.

Why?

I dont know? replied Moody. Shed probly like to know you want to be her friend. All

shes got is Diana. I hear shes looking for a boyfriend.

Oh, yeah? said Gilbert, looking over at the girl. Watch this, he added, then turned and

looked behind him, to where Mr. Phillips was sitting.

Moody could tell Gilbert was checking to see that the coast was clear. It was. What are

you gonna do? asked Moody, knowing the answer already. The seed is planted.

Im gonna go talk to my close friend, Carrots.

Gilbert got up and sneaked over to just behind where Anne was sitting. He shooed Charlie

Sloane over in his seat, giving Gilbert a place to sit. Gilbert tapped Anne Shirley on the back, and

she, startled, turned around.

Once she saw that it was Gilbert she looked instantly mad. From his vantage point, Moody

could see she was most angry. And while he didnt like to see his girl mad, he knew it would be

worth it to get Gilbert off her back, off their backs. Only then could Moody pursue his desired

course of action.

What do you want? hissed Anne.

I was just wondering, said Gilbert, reaching quickly for one of Annes braids, what are

these, Carrots? he grabbed a braid and yanked it hard.

Anne quickly rose, and as she did, Moody could see the rage rise as well. She grabbed the

first thing she saw, it happened to be a slate, but, Moody thought, it wouldnt have mattered if it

had been a knife, so crazed with anger was she, and swung it wildly towards Gilberts head.

Gilbert never saw it coming. The slate connected with his head with such force that the

frame of the slate splintered and the slate itself smashed into bits. Gilbert fell to the floor, dazed.

In the ensuing melee that followed, with Mr. Phillips losing his temper, Gilbert writhing on

the floor in pain, Anne fuming with after-rage, Moody could not help but smile. His plan had

worked. Now Gilbert and Anne would surely be mortal enemies forever. Anne would undoubtedly


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be free from distractions and Moody could once again plan to recite his new Introduction to her, to

the world. He could afford to save it until tomorrow, he decided.

As it turned out, Moody didnt receive an opportunity that day, anyway, to make another

Introduction Recitation. Mr. Phillips brought down the full brunt of his wrath upon Anne Shirley

(Gilbert, in typical fashion, got off Scot-free, and was sent to the Doctors to get his head checked)

by making her write lines on the chalkboard. He was so angry that for the rest of the day he made

the class just sit there and read. He forgot entirely the rest of Moodys daily recitations.

When Moody got home that night, he was feeling pretty good. The day had so many ups

and downs. At least all was right again. Anne hated Gilbert and he was no more a threat to Moody,

and that was good. Moody and Anne had several moments of private, silent, meaningful

conversations through their gazes, and that was good. Those moments proved again to Moody that

he loved her and she loved him, and that was great. Today didnt go quite as planned, but there was

always tomorrow. And tomorrow he would become a groom-to-be.

At supper, as the family was sitting around the table, Moper, the girl twin, with help from

Minnie, was relating to their parents and Jam, the terrible incident that had occurred that day at

school. They told their parents all about how Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley had been sneaking

glances at each other all morning, making faces, sticking out their tongues at each other (Moody

had missed that part, and he was glad). They told about how Gilbert Blythe had snuck over to

behind her and called Anne Shirley a name. And about how Anne Shirley went crazy and smashed

her slate over his head, maybe even killing him. Moody had wanted so badly to tell them all that he

was the real instigator in the whole slate affair, but he knew if he did no one would believe him

anyway.

After the incident was related to the parents, Elijah looked over to Marnie and started to

laugh. Marnie, too, began to giggle, her smiling mouth hidden by her hand.

Whats funny? asked Jam.

Them two sound like theyre in love with each other, said Elijah MacPherson.

And if they arent now, added Marnie MacPherson, nee Cameron, they soon will be.

For a moment, the world stopped for Moody. What do you mean by that? he asked when

the world started revolving again.


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Oh, its as obvious as the day is long, said Moodys Mother. Two people who get into

such a mess over a little bit of name-calling and hair-pulling are hiding their true feelings for each

other. Your Father and me done the same thing just before we started courting.

We were down at New London, at a dance, said Elijah, beginning to fill his pipe with

tobacco for an after-supper smoke, your Mothernme, before we were hitched. We knew of each

other but nary spoke a hello. Well, the dance got going and I see your Mother and call her some

name, just as a joke

He called me a Potatobag, interjected Marnie, smiling.

Yep, and she hauls off n dings me in the chops. We scuffled right then and there,

fighting like cats n dogs. They had to pull us offa each other. Then I take off n go to another

dance. Only thing was I couldnt get Old Potatobag outta my mind.

The trap was set for us, said Marnie. Four months later, we started courting. One year

later we was hitched and soon after had Jam. Jam smiled at the mention of his name.

Yep, stated Elijah, with certainty, sucking and puffing on his pipe, trying to get it lighted,

them two at your school there, theyll be married in the not to distant future. Whatever it was got

them two together there this afternoon, Ill guarantee it started a spark between them thatll never

burn out.

When you become a minister, Moody, Marnie smiled, you could even marry them.

Moody looked at his mother and stared deep into her happy eyes. Moody believed his

mother was the smartest woman he ever knew. He couldnt remember a time when she had been

wrong about something. He asked, How can you be that sure theyre going to marry? They hate

each other.

Alls I know is that a hatred that great cant come outta nothing. You say them two never

met before today. I know theres such a thing as love at first sight, I was struck by it with your

father, but there aint no such thing as hate at first sight. With him I thought it was hate at first

sight, thats why I decked him. But deep down, I knew it was love. Id bet the farm that their

hatred is hiding their true love. Id bet the farm.

That was all Moody needed to hear. As much as he hated to hear it, he knew his mother

was not a gambler at all. To bet the farm meant that she had to be right. Anne Shirley loves Gilbert

Blythe, not me. And as he thought it, it made perfect sense to him. He too, knew it was true.


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Moody sighed the deepest, saddest sigh he had ever sighed and began to mumble to

himself.

What are you yappin on? asked Jam of his brother.

Moody said he was practising his recitation, and then told the story of how he had to recite

his introduction every day.

Lets hear it, said Elijah, puffing away.

Moody stood up, slouching over, and spoke without any conviction. My name is Moody.

Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. I live in Avonlea.

Thats all there is to it? asked his Father.

Yes, thats it, said Moody.

And you couldnt remember that? asked his Mother.

Some minister hes gonna make, dumb like that, scoffed his Father, shaking his head and

blowing smoke out his mouth. Cmon, its time to do the evening chores. Get going, Moody, out

to the barn, or do you need help with the directions on how to get there. Everyone, except Moody

and his Mother, who had hopes of him becoming a minister, laughed at that great joke.

That night, after a long evening of heavy chores, Moody had a dream in which he had a

new recitation that he delivered to the class. The dream was a wonderful dream, a dream in which

he was the star. It was a dream that made everything turn out all right. No, it didnt let him have

the girl, Anne Shirley, she was Gilberts, he had resigned himself to that truth, but it did make him

feel valuable.

When he woke up, he couldnt remember any of the dream except the part where he recited

his brand new Personal Introduction. The recitation didnt quite make sense to him, but for some

reason he liked it, and knew he had to say it that day at school.

After he had finished the morning chores, he ran to the barn to get his prop, and then went

on his way, tramping his gangly body over the path that led to school. All the way, he practised his

newest Personal Introduction, and by the time he got to school, he had understood what it meant.

My name is Moody. Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. I live in Avonlea. And this is my

shovel.

Moody's Recitation

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Transcript of Moody's Recitation