Anne Of Avonlea - Chapter 22

"Anne of Avonlea" was written by L. M. Montgomery and published in 1909, following the enormous success of Anne of Green Gables the prior year.

In this second book, Anne Shirley is sixteen years old and working in Avonlea as the local schoolteacher, determined to be sensible, responsible and worthy of the life she’s been given...

Chapter 22 gathers together various small, telling moments that quietly shape a life...

Over an ordinary breakfast, Anne and Marilla reflect on people who drift to the edges of community, old stories that never quite healed and how gossip can bruise what is delicate...

Laughter and exasperation mingle as daily life goes on...

When unexpected news arrives, sorrow and relief sit side by side, and Green Gables feels subtly and permanently altered...

Transcript

Hello there.

Thank you so much for joining me for this continued reading of Anne of Avonlea,

The quaint old story from 1909 from Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery.

If you've already been listening along you'll know that we're hearing about Anne of Green Gables in a slightly older version.

This is indeed book two out of eight that were written about Anne and I do hope that,

Like me,

You're enjoying hearing about Anne's adventures as she's getting older.

If you haven't yet heard the preceding parts of this story and you'd like to,

You can certainly look for the playlist for Anne of Avonlea and you'll find all of the chapters there in order.

It makes it a lot easier to keep track of everything in one place,

But for now let's just take a moment here to have a nice deep exhale,

Letting go of the day,

Letting go of whichever baggage we might be bringing along with us into this moment.

For right now there's nowhere else we have to go,

Nothing else we have to be doing,

So we can just relax,

Get ourselves comfortable and enjoy the ongoing sweet tale of Anne of Avonlea.

Chapter 22,

Odds and Ends.

So,

You had tea at the Stone House with Lavender Lewis,

Said Marilla at the breakfast table next morning.

What is she like now?

It's over 15 years since I saw her last.

It was one Sunday in Grafton Church.

I suppose she has changed a great deal.

Davy Keith,

When you want something you can't reach,

Ask to have it passed and don't spread yourself over the table in that fashion.

Did you ever see Paul Irving doing that when he was here to meals?

But Paul's arms are longer than mine,

Grumbled Davy.

They've had 11 years to grow,

Mine have only had seven.

Sighed,

I did ask,

But you and Anne were so busy talking you didn't pay any attention.

Sighed,

Paul's never been here to any meal except tea,

And it's easier to be polite at tea than at breakfast.

You ain't half as hungry.

It's an awful long while between supper and breakfast.

Now,

Anne,

That spoonful ain't any bigger than it was last year,

And I'm ever so much bigger.

Of course,

I don't know what Miss Lavender used to look like,

But I don't fancy somehow that she has changed a great deal,

Said Anne,

After she had helped Davy to maple syrup,

Giving him two spoonfuls to pacify him.

Her hair is snow white,

But her face is fresh and almost girlish,

And she has the sweetest brown eyes,

Such a pretty shade of wood brown with little golden glints in them,

And her voice makes you think of white satin and tinkling water and fairy bells all mixed up together.

She was reckoned a great beauty when she was a girl,

Said Marilla.

I never knew her very well,

But I liked her as far as I did know her.

Some folks thought her peculiar even then.

Davy,

If ever I catch you at such a trick again,

You'll be made to wait for your meals till everyone else is done,

Like the French.

Most conversations between Anne and Marilla in the presence of the twins were punctuated by these rebukes Davy would.

In this instance,

Davy,

Sad to relate,

Not being able to scoop up the last drops of his syrup with his spoon,

Had solved the difficulty by lifting his plate in both hands and applying his small pink tongue to it.

Anne looked at him with such horrified eyes that the little sinner turned red and said,

Half shamefacedly,

Half defiantly,

There ain't any wasted that way.

People who are different from other people are always called peculiar,

Said Anne,

And Miss Lavender is certainly different,

Though it's hard to say just where the difference comes in.

Perhaps it is because she is one of those people who never grow old.

One might as well grow old when all your generation do,

Said Marilla,

Rather reckless of her pronouns.

If you don't,

You don't fit in anywhere.

Far as I can learn,

Lavender Lewis has just dropped out of everything.

She's lived in that out-of-the-way place until everybody has forgotten her.

That stone house is one of the oldest on the island.

Old Mr Lewis built it 80 years ago when he came out from England.

Davy,

Stop joggling Dora's elbow.

Oh,

I saw you.

You needn't try to look innocent.

What does make you behave so this morning?

Maybe I got out of the wrong side of the bed,

Suggested Davy.

Miltie Bolter says if you do that,

Things are bound to go wrong with you all day,

His grandmother told him.

But which is the right side?

And what are you to do when your bed's against the wall?

I want to know.

I've always wondered what went wrong between Stephen Irving and Lavender Lewis,

Continued Marilla,

Ignoring Davy.

They were certainly engaged 25 years ago,

And then all at once it was broken off.

I don't know what the trouble was,

But it must have been something terrible,

For he went away to the States and never came home since.

Perhaps it was nothing very dreadful,

After all.

I think the little things in life often make more trouble than the big things,

Said Anne,

With one of those flashes of insight which experience could not have bettered.

Marilla.

Please don't say anything about my being at Miss Lavender's to Mrs Lind.

She'd be sure to ask a hundred questions,

And somehow I wouldn't like it,

Nor Miss Lavender either,

If she knew,

I feel sure.

I dare say Rachel would be curious,

Admitted Marilla,

Though she hasn't as much time as she used to have for looking after other people's affairs.

She's tied home now,

On account of Thomas,

And she's feeling pretty downhearted,

For I think she's beginning to lose hope of his ever getting better.

Rachel will be left pretty lonely,

If anything happens to him,

With all her children settled out West,

Except Eliza in town,

And she doesn't like her husband.

Marilla's pronouns slandered Eliza,

Who was very fond of her husband.

Rachel says if he'd only brace up and exert his willpower,

He'd get better.

But what is the use of asking a jellyfish to sit up straight?

Continued Marilla.

Thomas Lind never had any willpower to exert.

His mother ruled him until he married,

And then Rachel carried it on.

It's a wonder he dared to get sick without asking her permission.

But there,

I shouldn't talk so.

Rachel has been a good wife to him.

He'd never have amounted to anything without her,

That's certain.

He was born to be ruled,

And it's well he fell into the hands of a clever,

Capable manager like Rachel.

He didn't mind her way.

It saved him the bother of ever making up his own mind about anything.

Davy,

Do stop squirming like an eel.

I've nothing else to do,

Protested Davy.

I can't eat any more,

And it's no fun watching you and Anne eat.

Well,

You and Dora go out and give the hens their wheat,

Said Marilla,

And don't you try to pull any more feathers out of the white rooster's tail either.

I wanted some feathers for an Indian headdress,

Said Davy,

Sulkily.

A milky bolter as a dandy one,

Made out of the feathers his mother give him when she killed their old white gobbler.

You might let me have some.

That rooster's got ever so many more than he wants.

You may have the old feather duster in the garret,

Said Anne,

And I'll dye them green and red and yellow for you.

You do spoil that boy dreadfully,

Said Marilla,

When Davy,

With a radiant face,

Had followed prim Dora out.

Marilla's education had made great strides in the past six years,

But she had not yet been able to rid herself of the idea that it was very bad for a child to have too many of its wishes indulged.

All the boys of his class have Indian headdresses,

And Davy wants one too,

Said Anne.

I know how it feels.

I'll never forget how I used to long for puffed sleeves when all the other girls had them.

And Davy isn't being spoiled.

He is improving every day.

Think what a difference there is in him since he came here a year ago.

He certainly doesn't get into as much mischief since he began to go to school,

Acknowledged Marilla.

I suppose he works off the tendency with the other boys.

But it's a wonder to me we haven't heard from Richard Keith before this.

Never a word since last May.

I'll be afraid to hear from him,

Sighed Anne,

Beginning to clear away the dishes.

If a letter should come,

I dread opening it for fear it would tell us to send the twins to him.

A month later,

A letter did come,

But it was not from Richard Keith.

A friend of his wrote to say that Richard Keith had died of consumption a fortnight previously.

The writer of the letter was the executor of his will,

And by that will the sum of two thousand dollars was left to Miss Marilla Cuthbert in trust for David and Dora Keith until they came of age or married.

In the meantime,

The interest was to be used for their maintenance.

It seems dreadful to be glad of anything in connection with the death,

Said Anne soberly.

I'm sorry for poor Mr Keith,

But I am glad that we can keep the twins.

It's a very good thing about the money,

Said Marilla practically.

I wanted to keep them,

But I really didn't see how I could afford to do it,

Especially when they grew older.

The rent of the farm doesn't do any more than keep the house,

And I was bound that not a cent of your money should be spent on them.

You do far too much for them as it is.

Dora didn't need that new hat you bought her any more than a cat needs two tails,

But now the way is made clear and they are provided for.

Davy and Dora were delighted when they heard that they were to live at Green Gables for good.

The death of an uncle whom they had never seen could not weigh a moment in the balance against that,

But Dora had one misgiving.

Was Uncle Richard buried,

She whispered to Anne.

Yes,

Dear,

Of course.

He.

.

.

He.

.

.

Isn't like Mirabel Cotton's uncle,

Is he?

In a still more agitated whisper,

He won't walk about houses after being buried,

Will he,

Anne?