put his meaning into less dangerous phrases he’d get into trouble some of these long-come-shorts.  And confound redheaded school-ma’ams with a habit of popping out of beechwoods where they had no business to be.  If Anne had heard, Judson Parker, measuring her corn in his own half bushel, as the country saying went, and cheating himself thereby, as such people generally do, believed that she would tell it far and wide.  Now, Judson Parker, as has been seen, was not overly regardful of public opinion; but to be known as having accepted a bribe would be a nasty thing; and if it ever reached Isaac Spencer’s ears farewell forever to all hope of winning Louisa Jane with her comfortable prospects as the heiress of a well-to-do farmer.  Judson Parker knew that Mr. Spencer looked somewhat askance at him as it was; he could not afford to take any risks.

“Ahem . . .  Anne, I’ve been wanting to see you about that little matter we were discussing the other day.  I’ve decided not to let my fences to that company after all.  A society with an aim like yours ought to be encouraged.”

Anne thawed out the merest trifle.

“Thank you,” she said.

“And . . . and . . . you needn’t mention that little conversation of mine with Jerry.”

“I have no intention of mentioning it in any case,” said Anne icily, for she would have seen every fence in Avonlea painted with advertisements before she would have stooped to bargain with a man who would sell his vote.

“Just so . . . just so,” agreed Judson, imagining that they understood each other beautifully.  “I didn’t suppose you would.  Of course, I was only stringing Jerry . . . he thinks he’s so all-fired cute and smart.  I’ve no intention of voting for Amesbury.  I’m going to vote for Grant as I’ve always done . . . you’ll see that when the election comes off.  I just led Jerry on to see if he would commit himself.  And it’s all right about the fence . . . you can tell the Improvers that.”

“It takes all sorts of people to make a world, as I’ve often heard, but I think there are some who could be spared,” Anne told her reflection in the east gable mirror that night.  “I wouldn’t have mentioned the disgraceful thing to a soul anyhow, so my conscience is clear on that score.  I really don’t know who or what is to be thanked for this. I did nothing to bring it about, and it’s hard to believe that Providence ever works by means of the kind of politics men like Judson Parker and Jerry Corcoran have.”

XV

The Beginning of Vacation