Since Avonlea occupied a little triangular peninsula jutting out into the Gulf of St. Rachel found abundant time to sit for hours at her kitchen window, knitting 'cotton warp' quilts-she had, knitted sixteen of them, as Avonlea housekeepers were wont to tell in awed voices-and keeping a sharp eye on the main road that crossed the hollow and wound up the steep red hill beyond. She was a notable housewife her work was always done and well done she 'ran' the Sewing Circle, helped run the Sunday-school, and was the strongest prop of the, Church Aid Society and Foreign Missions Auxiliary. Rachel Lynde was one of those capable creatures who can manage their own concerns and those of other folks into the bargain.

There are plenty of people, in Avonlea and out of it, who can attend closely to their neighbors business by dint of neglecting their own but Mrs. Rachel was sitting at her window, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she would never rest until she had ferreted out the whys and wherefores thereof. Rachel Lynde's door without due regard for decency and decorum it probably was conscious that Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies' eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade but by the time it reached Lynde's Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs.

Anne of green gables by lm montgomery