This is S.
D.
Hudson Magic.
I'm delighted to be able to read for you,
Anne of Green Gables.
This I consider to be my favorite story of all time.
And even though I am English,
And not English,
I love reading.
I love reading.
I love reading.
I love reading.
I love reading.
I love reading.
I love reading.
I love reading.
I love reading.
And even though I am English,
And not Canadian,
I hope I will do this story justice.
Chapter 35
The Winter at Queen's
Anne's homesickness wore off,
Greatly helped in the wearing
By her weekend visits home.
As long as the
Open weather lasted,
The Avonlea students went out to
Carmody on the new branch railway
Every Friday night.
Diana and several other
Avonlea young folks were
Generally on hand to meet them,
And they all walked over to Avonlea in a
Merry party.
Anne thought those Friday
Evening gypsyings over the
Autumnal hills in the crisp golden air
Were the home lights of
Avonlea twinkling beyond,
Were the best and dearest hours
In the whole week.
Gilbert Blythe
Nearly always walked with Ruby
Gillis and carried her satchel for her.
Ruby was a very
Handsome young lady,
Now thinking herself quite as grown up
As she really was.
She wore her skirts as long
As her mother would let her,
And did her hair up in town,
Although she had to take it down when she went
Home.
She had large,
Bright blue eyes,
A brilliant complexion,
And a plump,
Showy figure.
She laughed
A great deal,
And was cheerful
And good-tempered,
And enjoyed
The pleasant things of life,
Frankly.
But I shouldn't think
She was the sort of girl Gilbert would like,
Whispered Jane to Anne.
Anne did not think so either,
But she would not have said so
For the Avery Scholarship.
She could not help thinking,
Too,
That it would be very pleasant
To have such a friend as Gilbert
To jest and chatter with,
And exchange ideas about books
And studies and ambitions.
Gilbert had ambitions,
She knew,
And Ruby Gillis did not seem the sort of
Person with whom such could be
Profitably discussed.
There was no
Silly sentiment in Anne's
Ideas concerning Gilbert.
Boys were to her,
When she thought about them at all,
Merely possible good comrades.
If she
And Gilbert had been friends,
She would not have cared how many other friends
He had,
Nor with whom he walked.
She had a genius
For friendship.
Girlfriends she had in plenty,
But she had a vague consciousness
That masculine friendship
Might also be a good thing to round out
One's conceptions of companionship
And furnish broader
Standpoints of judgment and comparison.
Not that
Anne could have put her feelings
On the matter into just such
Clear definition.
But she thought that if Gilbert
Had ever walked home with her from the
Train,
Over the crisp fields
And along the ferny byways,
They might have had many
And merry and interesting
Conversation about the new world
That was opening around them
And their hopes and ambitions
Therein.
Gilbert was a clever young fellow
With his own thoughts about things
And a determination to get
The best out of life and put
The best into it.
Ruby Gillies
Told Jane Andrews she
Didn't understand half the things
Gilbert Blythe said.
He talked just like
Anne Shirley did when she had
A thoughtful fit on,
And for her
Part,
She didn't think it any
Fun to be bothering about books
And that sort of thing when you didn't have
To.
Frank Stockley had
Much more dash and go.
But then he
Wasn't half as good looking as Gilbert
And she really couldn't decide
Which he liked best.
In the
Academy,
Anne gradually drew
A little circle of friends about her.
Thoughtful,
Imaginative,
Ambitious students
Like herself.
With the rose-red girl,
Stella Maynard,
And the
Dream girl,
Priscilla Grant,
She soon became intimate,
Finding the latter
Pale,
Spiritual-looking maiden
To be full to the brim
Of mischief and pranks
And fun.
While the vivid,
Black-eyed
Stella had a heart full of
Wistful dreams and fancies as
Aerial and rainbow-like as Anne's
Own.
After the Christmas
Holidays,
The Avenue students
Gave up going home on Fridays
And settled down to hard work.
By this
Time,
All the Queen's scholars
Had gravitated into their own places
In the ranks,
And the various
Classes had assumed distinct and
Settled shadings of individuality.
Certain facts had become
Generally accepted.
It was admitted that the medal
Contestants had practically narrowed
Down to three.
Gilbert Blythe,
Anne Shirley and Louis Wilson,
The Avery scholarship
Was more doubtful,
Any one
Of a certain six being a possible
Winner.
The bronze medal for mathematics
Was considered as good as won
By a fat,
Funny little up-country
Boy with a bumpy forehead
And a patched coat.
Ruby Gillies was the
Handsomest girl of the year at the Academy.
In the
Second-year classes,
Stella
Maynard carried off the palm for beauty
With small but critical
Minority in favour of
Anne Shirley.
Ethel Marr
Was admitted by all competent judges
To have the most stylish
Modes of hairdressing,
And Jane Andrews,
Plain,
Plodding,
Conscientious
Jane,
Carried off
The honours in the domestic
Science course.
Even Josie Pye
Attained a certain preeminence
As the sharpest-tongued young
Lady in attendance at Queen's.
So it may be fairly
Stated that Miss Stacy's old pupils
Held their own in the wider arena
Of the academical course.
Anne worked hard
And steadily.
Her rivalry with Gilbert
Was as intense as it had ever
Been in Avonlea School,
Although it was not known in the
Class at large,
But
Somehow the bitterness had gone out of it.
Anne no longer
Wished to win for the sake of defeating
Gilbert,
Rather
For the proud consciousness of a well-won
Victory over a worthy
Foeman.
It would be worthwhile to win,
But she no longer thought
Life would be insupportable if she did not.
In spite of
Lessons,
The students found opportunities
For pleasant times.
Anne spent many of her
Spare hours at Beachwood
And generally ate her Sunday
Dinners there and went to
Church with Miss Barry.
The latter was,
She admitted,
Growing old,
But her black eyes were not
Dim,
Nor the vigour
Of her tongue in the least abated.
But
She never sharpened the latter on Anne,
Who continued to be a prime favourite
With a critical old lady.
That
Girl improves all the time,
She said.
I get tired of other girls.
There's such a provoking and eternal
Sameness about them.
Anne has many shades
As a rainbow,
And every
Shade is the prettiest while it lasts.
I don't know
That she's as amusing as she was when she was a
Child,
But she makes me
Love her,
And I like people who
Make me love them.
It saves me so much trouble in making
Myself love them.
Then,
Almost before anybody
Realised it,
Spring had
Come.
Out
In Avonlea the Mayflowers were peeping
Pinkly out on the Sea of Barrens
Where snow reeds lingered,
And the mist of green
Was on the woods and in the valleys.
But in Charlottetown
Harassed Queen's students
Thought and talked
Only of examinations.
It doesn't
Seem possible,
The term's nearly over,
Said Anne.
Why,
Last fall it seemed
So long to look forward to,
A whole winter of studies and
Classes.
And here we
Are,
With exams looming up next
Week.
Girls,
Sometimes I feel as though
The exams mean everything,
But when I look at the big buds swelling
On those chestnut trees and the misty
Blue air at the end of the streets,
They don't seem half so important.
Jane and Ruby and Josie
Who had dropped in,
Did
Not take this view of it.
To them,
The
Coming examinations were constantly
Very important indeed.
Far more
Important than chestnut buds
Or Maytime hazes.
It was all very well for
Anne,
Who was sure of passing at least,
To have her moments of belittling
Them.
But when your whole
Future depended upon them,
As the girls truly thought theirs did,
You could not regard them
Philosophically.
I've lost seven pounds
In the last two weeks,
Sighed Jane.
It's no use to say don't worry,
Anne.
I will worry.
Worrying helps you some.
It seems as if you were doing
Something when you're worrying.
It would be dreadful if I failed to get my
Licence after going to Queens or Winter
And spending so much money.
I don't
Care,
Said Josie Pye.
If I don't
Pass this year,
I'm coming back next.
My father can afford
To send me.
Anne,
Frank Stockley
Says that Professor Tremaine said
Gilbert Blythe was sure to get the
Medal,
And that Emily
Clay would likely win the Avery
Scholarship.
That might make
Me feel badly tomorrow,
Josie,
Laughed Anne.
But just now,
I honestly feel
That as long as I know the violets are coming
Out all purple down in the hollow
Below Green Gables,
And the little ferns are poking their heads
Up in Lovers Lane,
It's not a great deal of difference whether I win the Avery
Or not.
I've done my best,
And I begin to understand
What is meant by
The joy of the strife.
Next to trying and
Winning,
The best thing is
Trying and failing.
Girls,
Don't talk over the exams.
Look at that
Arch of pale green sky over those
Houses,
And picture to yourself
What it must look like over the
Purply dark beech woods
At the back of Avonlea.
What are you going to wear for commencement,
Jane?
Asked Ruby
Practically.
Jane and Josie
Both answered at once,
And the chat had drifted into a
Side eddy of fashions.
But Anne,
With her elbows on the windowsill,
Her soft cheek
Laid against her clasped hands,
And her eyes filled with
Visions,
Looked out
Unheedingly across city roof
And spire,
To that
Glorious dome of sunset
Sky,
And
Wove her dreams of a possible future
From the golden tissue
Of youth's own optimism.
All
The beyond was hers,
With its possibilities lurking rosily
In the oncoming years.
Each year
A rose of promise
To be woven into
An immortal chaplet.
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