Matthew Insists on Puffed Sleeves

"Matthew Insists on Puffed Sleeves" is a charming and enchanting story by Lucy Maud Montgomery that features beloved characters from the "Anne of Green Gables" series. Set in the picturesque Canadian countryside, this tale centers around Anne Shirley as she navigates the ups and downs of childhood and adolescence. With a focus on her imaginative spirit and the delightful relationship she shares with her guardian, Matthew Cuthbert, the story captures the essence of friendship, dreams, and the quest for individuality, all while highlighting the significance of a whimsical puffed sleeve dress that becomes a symbol of Anne's vibrant personality and aspirations. As Anne’s adventures unfold, readers are treated to Montgomery’s signature warmth and humor, making this a heartwarming tale for fans of all ages.

• Short story

								
Matthew was having a bad ten minutes of it. He had come into the
kitchen, in the twilight of a cold, grey December evening, and had sat
down in the wood-box corner to take off his heavy boots, unconscious
of the fact that Anne and a bevy of her schoolmates were having a
practice of "The Fairy Queen" in the sitting-room. Presently they came
trooping through the hall and out into the kitchen, laughing and
chattering gaily. They did not see Matthew, who shrank bashfully back
into the shadows beyond the wood-box with a boot in one hand and a
bootjack in the other, and he watched them shyly for the aforesaid ten
minutes as they put on caps and jackets and talked about the dialogue
and the concert. Anne stood among them, bright eyed and animated as
they; but Matthew suddenly became conscious that there was something
about her different from her mates. And what worried Matthew was that
the difference impressed him as being something that should not exist.
Anne had a brighter face, and bigger, starrier eyes, and more delicate
features than the others; even shy, unobservant Matthew had learned to
take note of these things; but the difference that disturbed him did
not consist in any of these respects. Then in what did it consist?

Matthew was haunted by this question long after the girls had gone,
arm in arm, down the long, hard-frozen lane and Anne had betaken
herself to her books. He could not refer it to Marilla, who, he felt,
would be quite sure to sniff scornfully and remark that the only
difference she saw between Anne and the other girls was that they
sometimes kept their tongues quiet while Anne never did. This, Matthew
felt, would be no great help.

He had recourse to his pipe that evening to help him study it out,
much to Marilla's disgust. After two hours of smoking and hard
reflection Matthew arrived at a solution of his problem. Anne was not
dressed like the other girls!

The more Matthew thought about the matter the more he was convinced
that Anne never had been dressed like the other girls--never since she
had come to Green Gables. Marilla kept her clothed in plain, dark
dresses, all made after the same unvarying pattern. If Matthew knew
there was such a thing as fashion in dress it is as much as he did;
but he was quite sure that Anne's sleeves did not look at all like the
sleeves the other girls wore. He recalled the cluster of little girls
he had seen around her that evening--all gay in waists of red and blue
and pink and white--and he wondered why Marilla always kept her so
plainly and soberly gowned.

Of course, it must be all right. Marilla knew best and Marilla was
bringing her up. Probably some wise, inscrutable motive was to be
served thereby. But surely it would do no harm to let the child have
one pretty dress--something like Diana Barry always wore. Matthew
decided that he would give her one; that surely could not be objected
to as an unwarranted putting in of his oar. Christmas was only a
fortnight off. A nice new dress would be the very thing for a present.
Matthew, with a sigh of satisfaction, put away his pipe and went to
bed, while Marilla opened all the doors and aired the house.

The very next evening Matthew betook himself to Carmody to buy the
dress, determined to get the worst over and have done with it. It
would be, he felt assured, no trifling ordeal. There were some things
Matthew could buy and prove himself no mean bargainer; but he knew he
would be at the mercy of shopkeepers when it came to buying a girl's
dress.

After much cogitation Matthew resolved to go to Samuel Lawson's store
instead of William Blair's. To be sure, the Cuthberts always had gone
to William Blair's; it was almost as much a matter of conscience with
them as to attend the Presbyterian church and vote Conservative. But
William Blair's two daughters frequently waited on customers there and
Matthew held them in absolute dread. He could contrive to deal with
them when he knew exactly what he wanted and could point it out; but
in such a matter as this, requiring explanation and consultation,
Matthew felt that he must be sure of a man behind the counter. So he
would go to Lawson's, where Samuel or his son would wait on him.

Alas! Matthew did not know that Samuel, in the recent expansion of his
business, had set up a lady clerk also; she was a niece of his wife's
and a very dashing young person indeed, with a huge, drooping
pompadour, big, rolling brown eyes, and a most extensive and
bewildering smile. She was dressed with exceeding smartness and wore
several bangle bracelets that glittered and rattled and tinkled with
every movement of her hands. Matthew was covered with confusion at
finding her there at all; and those bangles completely wrecked his
wits at one fell swoop.

"What can I do for you this evening. Mr. Cuthbert?" Miss Lucilla
Harris inquired, briskly and ingratiatingly, tapping the counter with
both hands.

"Have you any--any--any--well now, say any garden rakes?" stammered
Matthew.

Miss Harris looked somewhat surprised, as well she might, to hear a
man inquiring for garden rakes in the middle of December.

"I believe we have one or two left over," she said, "but they're
upstairs in the lumber-room. I'll go and see."

During her absence Matthew collected his scattered senses for another
effort.

When Miss Harris returned with the rake and cheerfully inquired:
"Anything else tonight, Mr. Cuthbert?" Matthew took his courage in
both hands and replied: "Well now, since you suggest it, I might as
well--take--that is--look at--buy some--some hayseed."

Miss Harris had heard Matthew Cuthbert called odd. She now concluded
that he was entirely crazy.

"We only keep hayseed in the spring," she explained loftily. "We've
none on hand just now."

"Oh, certainly--certainly--just as you say," stammered unhappy
Matthew, seizing the rake and making for the door. At the threshold he
recollected that he had not paid for it and he turned miserably back.
While Miss Harris was counting out his change he rallied his powers
for a final desperate attempt.

"Well now--if it isn't too much trouble--I might as well--that is--I'd
like to look at--at--some sugar."

"White or brown?" queried Miss Harris patiently.

"Oh--well now--brown," said Matthew feebly.

"There's a barrel of it over there," said Miss Harris, shaking her
bangles at it. "It's the only kind we have."

"I'll--I'll take twenty pounds of it," said Matthew, with beads of
perspiration standing on his forehead.

Matthew had driven halfway home before he was his own man again. It
had been a gruesome experience, but it served him right, he thought,
for committing the heresy of going to a strange store. When he reached
home he hid the rake in the tool-house, but the sugar he carried in to
Marilla.

"Brown sugar!" exclaimed Marilla. "Whatever possessed you to get so

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