15/2 Anne : A Sleep Story | Chapter Fifteen - 2

Let yourself be gently carried into rest with the timeless charm of Anne of Green Gables. This beloved novel by L. M. Montgomery follows the adventures of imaginative, kind-hearted Anne Shirley as she arrives at Green Gables and begins a new life on Prince Edward Island.

Before we begin, take a few moments to get cosy. Settle into your bed or favourite resting spot, allow your body to soften, and let your breath begin to slow. There’s nothing you need to do now but listen and let the gentle rhythm of the story lull you toward sleep.

Read in a soothing tone to calm the mind and nervous system. This series is a peaceful companion for your evening rest.

Tonight, we read Chapter 15: A Tempest in the School Teapot (part two).

Transcript

It is possible the matter might have blown over without more excruciation if nothing else had happened.

But when things begin to happen,

They are apt to keep on.

Avonlea scholars often spent noon hour picking gum in Mr Bell's spruce grove over the hill and across his big pasture field.

From there they could keep an eye on Eben Wright's house,

Where the master boarded.

When they saw Mr Phillips emerging therefrom,

They ran for the schoolhouse.

But the distance being about three times longer than Mr Wright's lane,

They were very apt to arrive there,

Breathless and gasping,

Some three minutes too late.

On the following day,

Mr Phillips was seized with one of his spasmodic fits of reform and announced,

Before going home to dinner,

That he should expect to find all the scholars in their seats when he returned.

Anyone who came in late would be punished.

All of the boys,

And some of the girls,

Went to Mr Bell's spruce grove as usual,

Fully intending to stay only long enough to pick a chew.

But bruce groves are seductive,

And yellow nuts of gum beguiling.

They picked,

And loitered,

And strayed,

And as usual,

The first thing that recalled them to a sense of the flight of time was Jimmy Glover shouting from the top of a patriarchal old spruce,

Master's coming!

The girls who were on the ground started first,

And managed to reach the schoolhouse in time,

But without a second to spare.

The boys,

Who had to wriggle hastily down from the trees,

Were later.

And Anne,

Who had not been picking gum at all,

But was wandering happily in the far end of the grove,

Waist deep among the bracken,

Singing softly to herself,

With a wreath of rice lilies in her hair,

As if she were some wild divinity of the shadowy places,

Was latest of all.

Anne could run like a deer.

However,

Run she did with the impish result that she overtook the boys at the door,

And was swept into the schoolhouse among them,

Just as Mr Phillips was in the act of hanging up his hat.

Mr Phillips' brief reforming energy was over.

He didn't want the bother of punishing a dozen pupils.

But it was necessary to do something to save his word.

So he looked about for a scapegoat,

And found it in Anne,

Who had dropped into her seat,

Gasping for breath,

With a forgotten lily wreath hanging askew over one ear,

And giving her a particularly rakish and dishevelled appearance.

Anne Shirley,

Since you seem to be so fond of the boys' company,

We shall indulge your taste for it this afternoon,

He said sarcastically.

Take those flowers out of your hair,

And sit with Gilbert Bly.

The other boys snickered.

Diana,

Turning pale with pity,

Plucked the wreath from Anne's hair and squeezed her hand.

Anne stared at the master as if turned to stone.

Did you hear what I said,

Anne?

Queried Mr Phillips sternly.

Yes,

Sir,

Said Anne slowly.

But I didn't suppose you really meant it.

I assure you I did,

Still with the sarcastic inflection which all the children,

And Anne especially,

Hated.

It flicked on the roll.

Obey me at once.

For a moment Anne looked as if she meant to disobey.

Then,

Realising that there was no help for it,

She rose haughtily,

Stepped across the aisle,

Sat down beside Gilbert Bly,

And buried her face in her arms on the desk.

Ruby Gillis,

Who caught a glimpse of it as it went down,

Told the others going home from school that she'd actually never seen anything like it.

It was so white,

With awful little red spots on it.

To Anne,

This was the end of all things.

It was bad enough to be singled out for punishment from among a dozen equally guilty ones.

It was worse still to be sent to sit with a boy,

But that that boy should be Gilbert Bly was heaping insult on injury to a degree utterly unbearable.

Anne felt she could not bear it and it would be of no use to try.

Her whole being seized with shame and anger and humiliation.

At first the other scholars looked and whispered and giggled and nudged.

But as Anne never lifted her head,

And as Gilbert worked fractions as if his whole soul was absorbed in them and them only,

They soon returned to their own tasks and Anne was forgotten.

When Mr.

Phillips called the history class out,

Anne should have gone.

But Anne did not move.

And Mr.

Phillips,

Who had been writing some verses to Priscilla before he called the class,

Was thinking about an obstinate rhyme still and never missed her.

Once,

When nobody was looking,

Gilbert took from his desk a little pink candy heart with a gold motto on it,

You are sweet,

And slipped it under the curve of Anne's arm,

Whereupon Anne arose,

Took the pink heart gingerly between the tips of her fingers,

Dropped it on the floor and ground it to powder beneath her heel,

And resumed her position without deigning to bestow a glance on Gilbert.

When school went out,

Anne marched to her desk,

Ostentatiously took out everything therein,

Books and writing-tablet,

Pen and ink,

Testament and arithmetic,

And piled them neatly on her cracked slate.

What are you taking all those things home for,

Anne?

Diana wanted to know as soon as they were out on the road.

She had not dared to ask the question before.

I am not coming back to school any more,

Said Anne.

Diana gasped and stared at Anne to see if she meant it.

Will Marilla let you stay home?

She asked.

She'd have to,

Said Anne.

I'll never go to school to that man again.

Oh,

Anne.

Diana looked as if she were ready to cry.

I do think you're mean.

What shall I do?

Mr.

Phillips will make me sit with that horrid,

Gertie pie.

I know he will,

Because she is sitting alone.

Do come back,

Anne.

I'd do almost anything in the world for you,

Diana,

Said Anne sadly.

I'd let myself be torn limb from limb if it would do you any good.

But I can't do this,

So please don't ask it.

You harrow up my very soul.

Just think of all the fun you'll miss,

Mourned Diana.

We are going to build the loveliest new house down by the brook.

And we'll be playing ball next week.

And you've never played ball,

Anne.

It's tremendously exciting.

And we're going to learn a new song.

Jane Andrews is practising it up now.

And Alice Andrews is going to bring a new pansy book next week.

And we're all going to read it out loud.

Chapter about,

Down by the brook.

And you know you are so fond of reading out loud,

Anne.

Nothing moved Anne in the least.

Her mind was made up.

She would not go to school to Mr Phillips again.

She told Marilla so when she got home.

Nonsense,

Said Marilla.

It isn't nonsense at all,

Said Anne,

Gazing at Marilla with solemn,

Reproachful eyes.

Don't you understand,

Marilla?

I've been insulted.

Insulted fiddlesticks.

You'll go to school tomorrow,

As usual.

Oh,

No.

Anne shook her head gently.

I'm not going back,

Marilla.

I learn my lessons at home.

I'll be as good as I can be.

And hold my tongue all the time if it's possible at all.

But I will not go back to school,

I assure you.

Marilla saw something remarkably like unyielding stubbornness looking out of Anne's small face.

She understood that she would have trouble in overcoming it.

But she resolved wisely to say nothing more just then.

I'll run down and see Rachel about it this evening,

She thought.

There's no use reasoning with Anne now.

She's too worked up.

And I've an idea.

She can be awful stubborn if she takes the notion.

Far as I can make out from her story,

Mr Phillips has been carrying matters with a rather high hand.

But I would never do to say so to her.

I'll just talk it over with Rachel.

She sent ten children to school,

And she ought to know something about it.

She'll have heard the whole story,

Too,

By this time.

Marilla found Mrs Linde knitting quilts as industriously and cheerfully as usual.

I suppose you know what I've come about,

She said,

A little shamefacedly.

Mrs Rachel nodded.

About Anne's fuss in school,

I reckon,

She said.

Tilly Voulter was in on her way home from school,

And she told me about it.

I don't know what to do with her,

Said Marilla.

She declares she won't go back to school.

I never saw a child so worked up.

I've been expecting trouble ever since she started school.

I knew things were going too smooth to last.

She's so high-strung.

What would you advise,

Rachel?

Well,

Since you've asked my advice,

Marilla,

Said Mrs Linde amiably.

Mrs Linde dearly loved to be asked for advice.

I'd just humour her for a little at first.

That's what I do.

It's my belief that Mr Phillips was in the wrong.

Of course it doesn't do to say so to the children,

You know.

And of course he did right to punish her yesterday for giving way to temper.

But today it was different.

The others who were late should have been punished as well as Anne.

And that's what.

And I don't believe in making the girls sit with the boys for punishment.

It isn't modest.

Tilly Voulter was real indignant.

She took Anne's part right through and said all the scholars did too.

Anne seems real popular among them somehow.

I never thought she'd take with them so well.

Then you really think I'd better let her stay home,

Said Marilla in amazement.

Yes,

That is,

I wouldn't say school to her again until she said it herself.

Depend upon it,

Marilla.

She'll cool off in a week or so and she'll be ready enough to go back of her own accord.

That's what.

While if you were to make her go back right off,

Dear knows what freak or tantrum she'd take next and make more trouble than ever.

The less fuss made,

The better in my opinion.

She won't miss much by not going to school as far as that goes.

Mr Phillips isn't any good at all as a teacher.

The order he keeps is scandalous.

Yes,

That's what.

And he neglects the young fry and puts all his time on those big scholars he's getting ready for Queen's.

He'd never have got the school for another year if his uncle hadn't been a trustee.

The trustee.

For he just leads the other two around by the nose.

That's what.

I declare I don't know what education in this island is coming to.

Mrs Rachel shook her head.

As much as to say if she were only at the head of the educational system of the province,

Things would be much better managed.

Marilla took Mrs Rachel's advice and not another word was said to Anne about going back to school.

She learned her lessons at home,

Did her chores and played with Diana in the chilly purple autumn twilights.

But when she met Gilbert Bly on the road or encountered him in Sunday school,

She passed him by with an icy contempt that was no quit thought by his evident desire to appease her.

Even Diana's efforts as a peacemaker were of no avail.

Anne had evidently made up her mind to hate Gilbert Bly to the end of life.

As much as she hated Gilbert,

However,

Did she love Diana with all the love of her passionate little heart equally intense in its likes and dislikes.

One evening,

Marilla,

Coming in from the orchard with a basket of apples,

Found Anne sitting along by the east window in the twilight,

Crying bitterly.

What's the matter now,

Anne?

She asked.

It's about Diana,

Sobbed Anne luxuriously.

I love Diana so,

Marilla.

I cannot ever live without her.

But I know very well,

When we grow up,

That Diana will get married and go away and leave me.

And oh,

What shall I do?

I hate her husband.

I just hate him furiously.

I've been imagining it all out,

The wedding and everything,

Diana dressed in snowy garments and a veil and looking as beautiful and regal as a queen.

And me as the bridesmaid,

With a lovely dress too and puffed sleeves,

But with a breaking heart hid beneath my smiling face and then bidding Diana goodbye.

Here Anne broke down entirely and wept with increasing bitterness.

Marilla turned quickly away to hide her twitching face,

But it was no use.

She collapsed on the nearest chair and burst into such a hearty and unusual peal of laughter that Matthew,

Crossing the yard outside,

Halted in amazement.

When had he heard Marilla laugh like that before?

Well,

Anne Shirley,

Said Marilla,

As soon as she could speak.

If you must borrow trouble for pity's sake,

Borrow it handy or home.

I should think you had an imagination,

Sure enough.