3 Anne Of Avonlea: Read By Stephanie Poppins

In this series, Anne discovers the delights and troubles of being a teacher, takes part in the raising of Davy and Dora, and organizes the A.V.I.S. (Avonlea Village Improvement Society) together with Gilbert, Diana, and Fred Wright, through their efforts to improve the town are not always successful.

In this episode, Anne learns more about Mr Harrison.

Transcript

Hello.

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

Your go-to romantic podcast that guarantees you a calm and entertaining transition into a great night's sleep.

Come with me as we immerse ourselves in a romantic journey to a time long since forgotten.

But before we begin,

Let's take a moment to focus on where we are now.

Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.

That's it.

Now close your eyes and feel yourself sink deeper into the support beneath you.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.

Happy listening.

Anne of Avonlea This is the second book in the Anne of Green Gables series.

I am delighted to present to you Anne as she has now grown up into an elegant teenager.

Come with me as we hear all the trials and tribulations as she continues on her journey to womanhood.

Chapter Three Mr.

Harrison at Home Mr.

Harrison's house was an old house in the middle of the country.

Mr.

Harrison's house was an old-fashioned,

Low-eaved,

Whitewashed structure set against a thick spruce grove.

Mr.

Harrison himself was sitting on his vine-shaded veranda in his shirt sleeves,

Enjoying his evening pipe.

When he realised who was coming up the path,

He sprang suddenly to his feet,

Bolted into the house and shut the door.

This was merely the uncomfortable result of his surprise,

Mingled with a good deal of shame over his outburst of temper the day before,

But it nearly swept the remnant of her courage from Anne's heart.

If he's so cross now,

What will he be like when he hears what I've done,

She reflected miserably as she rapped at the door.

But Mr.

Harrison opened it,

Smiling sheepishly,

And invited her to enter in a tone quite mild and friendly,

If somewhat nervous.

He had laid aside his pipe and donned his coat.

He offered Anne a very dusty chair,

Very politely,

And her reception would have passed off pleasantly enough if it had not been for the tell-tale of a parrot who was peering through the bars of his cage with wicked golden eyes.

No sooner had Anne seated herself than Ginger exclaimed,

Bless my soul,

What's that red-headed snippet coming here for?

It would be hard to say whose face was the redder,

Mr.

Harrison's or Anne's.

Don't you mind that parrot,

Said Mr.

Harrison,

Casting a few-eyes glance at Ginger.

He's always talking nonsense.

I got him from my brother who was a sailor.

Sailors don't always use the choicest language and some very imitative birds.

So I should think,

Said poor Anne,

The remembrance of her errand quelling her resentment.

She couldn't afford to snub Mr.

Harrison under the circumstances,

That was certain.

When you had just sold a man's jersey cow off hand without his knowledge or consent,

You must not mind if his parrot repeated uncomplimentary things.

Nevertheless,

The red-headed snippet was not quite so meek as she might otherwise have been.

I've come to confess something to you,

Mr.

Harrison,

She said resolutely.

It's.

.

.

It's about that jersey cow.

Bless my soul,

Exclaimed Mr.

Harrison nervously.

Has she gone and broken into my oats again?

Well,

Never mind,

Never mind if she has.

It's no difference,

None at all.

I was too hasty yesterday,

That's a fact.

Never mind if she has.

Oh,

If it were only that,

Sighed Anne,

But it's ten times worse.

I don't.

.

.

Bless my soul,

You mean to say she's got into my wheat?

No,

No,

Not the wheat,

But.

.

.

Then it's the cabbages.

She's broken into my cabbages I was raising for exhibition,

Hey?

It's not the cabbages,

Mr.

Harrison.

I'll tell you everything,

That is what I came for.

But please don't interrupt me,

It makes me so nervous.

Just let me tell my story and don't say anything till I get through,

And then.

.

.

No doubt you'll say plenty,

Anne concluded.

Anne concluded,

But in thought only.

I won't say another word,

Said Mr.

Harrison,

And he didn't.

But Ginger was not bound by any contract of silence and kept ejaculating red-headed snippet at intervals until Anne felt quite wild.

I shut my jersey cow up in our pen yesterday.

This morning I went to Carmody,

She began,

And when I came back I saw a jersey cow in your oats.

Diana and I chased her out,

And you can't imagine what a hard time we had.

I was so dreadfully wet and tired and vexed.

And Mr.

Shearer came by that very minute and offered to buy the cow.

I sold her to him on the spot for $20.

It was wrong of me.

I should have waited and insulted Marilla,

Of course,

But I'm dreadfully given to doing things without thinking.

Everybody who knows me will tell you that.

Mr.

Shearer took the cow right away to ship her in on the afternoon train.

Red-headed snippet,

Quoted Ginger in a tone of profound contempt.

At this point Mr.

Harrison rose,

And with an expression that would have struck terror into any bird but a parrot,

Carried Ginger's cage into an adjoining room and shut the door.

Ginger shrieked,

Swore,

And otherwise conducted himself in keeping with his reputation,

But finding himself left alone,

Relapsed into sulky silence.

Excuse me and go on,

Said Mr.

Harrison,

Sitting down again.

My brother the sailor never taught that bird any manners.

I went home,

And after tea I went to the milking pen,

Mr.

Harrison.

Anne leaned forward,

Clasping her hands with her old childish gesture,

While her big grey eyes gazed imploringly into Mr.

Harrison's embarrassed face.

I found my cow still shut up in the pen.

It was your cow I had sold to Mr.

Shearer.

Bless my soul,

Exclaimed Mr.

Harrison in blank amazement at this unlooked-for conclusion.

What a very extraordinary thing.

Oh,

It isn't in the least extraordinary that I should be getting myself and other people into scrapes,

Said Anne mournfully,

Unnoted for that.

You might suppose I'd have grown out of it by this time.

I'll be seventeen next March.

But it seems I haven't.

Mr.

Harrison,

Is it too much to hope you'll forgive me?

I'm afraid it's too late to get your cow back.

But here is the money for her,

Or you can have mine in exchange if you'd rather.

She's a very good cow,

And I can't express how sorry I am for it all.

Tut-tut,

Said Mr.

Harrison briskly.

Don't say another word about it,

Miss.

It's of no consequence.

Accidents will happen.

I'm too hasty myself sometimes,

Miss,

Far too hasty.

But I can't help speaking out just what I think.

And folks must take me as they find me.

If that cow had been in my cabbages now,

Then never mind,

She wasn't,

So it's all right.

I think I'd rather have your cow in exchange,

Since you won't have to pay me.

I don't want to be rid of her.

Thank you,

Mr.

Harrison.

I'm so glad you're not vexed.

I was afraid you would be.

And I suppose you were scared to death to come here and tell me after the fuss I made yesterday,

Hey?

But you mustn't mind me.

I'm a terrible outspoken old fellow,

That's all.

Awful apt to tell the truth,

No matter if it is a bit plain.

So is Mrs.

Lynde,

Said Anne,

Before she could prevent herself.

Mrs.

Lynde,

Don't you tell me I'm like that old gossip,

Said Mr.

Harrison irritably.

I'm not,

Not a bit.

What have you got in that box?

A cake,

Said Anne archly.

In her relief at Mr.

Harrison's unexpected amiability,

Her spirit soared upward feather light.

I brought it over for you.

I thought perhaps you didn't have cake very often.

I don't,

That's a fact,

And I'm mighty fond of it too.

I'm much obliged to you.

It looks good on top.

I hope it's good all the way through.

It is,

Said Anne,

Gaily confident.

I have made cakes in my time that were not,

As Mrs.

Allen could tell you,

But this one is all right.

I made it for the Improvement Society,

But I can make another for them.

Well,

I'll tell you what,

Miss,

You must help me eat it.

I'll put the kettle on and we'll have a cup of tea.

How will that do?

Will you let me make the tea,

Said Anne.

Dubiously.

Mr.

Harrison chuckled.

I see you haven't much confidence in my ability to make tea.

You're wrong.

I can brew up as good a jar of tea as you ever drank.

But go ahead yourself.

Fortunately,

It rained last Sunday,

So there's plenty of clean dishes.

Anne hopped briskly up and went to work.

She washed the teapot in several waters before she put the tea to steep.

Then she swept the stove and set the table,

Bringing the dishes out of the pantry.

The state of that pantry horrified Anne,

But she wisely said nothing.

Mr.

Harrison told her where to find the bread and butter in a can of peaches.

Anne adorned the table with a bouquet from the garden and shut her eyes to the stains on the tablecloth.

Soon the tea was ready and Anne found herself sitting opposite Mr.

Harrison at his own table,

Pouring his tea for him and chatting freely to him about her school and friends and plans.

She could hardly believe the evidence of her senses.

Mr.

Harrison,

Meanwhile,

Had brought Ginger back,

Averring that the poor bird would be lonesome,

And Anne,

Feeling she could forgive everybody and everything,

Offered him a walnut.

But Ginger's feelings had been grievously hurt and he rejected all overtures of friendship.

He sat moodily on his perch and ruffled his feathers up until he looked like a mere ball of green and gold.

Why'd you call him Ginger?

Asked Anne,

Who liked appropriate names and thought Ginger called him not at all with such gorgeous plumage.

My brother the sailor named him.

Maybe it had some reference to his temper.

I think a lot of that bird,

Though.

You'd be surprised if you knew how much.

He has his faults,

Of course.

That bird has cost me a good deal one way or another.

Some people object to his swearing habits,

But he can't be broken of them.

I've tried.

Other people have tried.

Some folks have prejudices against parrots.

Silly,

Ain't it?

I like them myself.

Ginger's a lot of company to me.

Nothing will induce me to give that bird up.

Nothing in the world,

Miss.

Mr Harrison flung the last sentence at Anne as explosively as if he suspected her of some latent design of persuading him to give Ginger up.

Anne,

However,

Was beginning to like the queer,

Fussy,

Fidgety little man,

And before the meal was over they were quite good friends.

Mr Harrison found out about the Improvement Society and was disposed to approve of it.

That's right,

Go ahead.

There's a lot of room for improvement in this settlement and the people,

Too.

Oh,

I don't know,

Flashed Anne.

To herself or to her particular cronies,

She might admit there were some small imperfections,

Easily removable,

In Avonlea and his inhabitants.

But to hear a practical outsider like Mr Harrison saying it was an entirely different thing.

I think Avonlea's a lovely place and the people in it are very nice,

Too.

I guess you've got to spice the temper,

Commented Mr Harrison,

Surveying the flushed cheeks and indignant eyes opposite him.

It goes with hair like yours,

I reckon.

Avonlea's a pretty decent place or I wouldn't have located here,

But I suppose even you would admit it's got some faults.

I like it all the better for them,

Said loyal Anne.

I don't like places or people either that haven't any faults.

I think it's a truly perfect person would be very uninteresting.

Mrs Milton-White says she's never met a perfect person,

But she's heard about one.

Her husband's first wife.

Don't you think it must be very uncomfortable to be married to a man whose first wife was perfect?

It would be more uncomfortable to be married to the perfect wife,

Declared Mr Harrison with a sudden and inexplicable warmth.

When tea was over,

Anne insisted on washing the dishes,

Although Mr Harrison assured her there were enough in the house to do for weeks yet.

She would dearly have loved to sweep the floor also,

But no broom was visible and she did not like to ask where it was for fear there wasn't one at all.

You might run across and talk to me once in a while,

Suggested Mr Harrison when she was leaving.

It isn't far and folks ought to be neighbourly.

I'm kind of interested in that society of yours.

Seems to me there'll be some fun in it.

Who are you going to tackle first?

We are not going to meddle with people.

It's only places we need to improve,

Said Anne in a dignified tone.

She rather suspected that Mr Harrison was making fun of the project.

When she had gone,

Mr Harrison watched her from the window.

A lithe,

Girly shape,

Tripping light-heartedly across the fields in the sunset afterglow.

I'm a crusty,

Lonesome,

Crabbed old chap,

He said aloud,

But there's something about that little girl that makes me feel young again.

And it's such a pleasant sensation I'd like to have it repeated once in a while.

Red-headed snippet,

Quoted Ginger mockingly.

Mr Harrison shook his fist at the parrot.

You ornery bird,

He muttered.

I almost wish I'd rung your neck when my brother the sailor brought you home.

Will you never be done getting me into trouble?

Anne ran home and recounted her adventures to Marilla,

Who had been not a little alarmed by her long absence,

And was on the point of starting out to look for her.

It's a pretty good world after all,

Isn't it,

Marilla?

Concluded Anne happily.

Mrs Linde was complaining the other day it wasn't much of a world.

She said whenever you looked forward to anything pleasant,

You were sure to be more or less disappointed.

Perhaps that's true,

But there's a good side to it too.

The bad things don't always come up to your expectations either.

They nearly always turn out ever so much better than you think.

I looked forward to a dreadfully unpleasant experience when I went over to Mr Harrison's tonight,

And instead he was quite kind,

And I almost had a nice time.

I think we're going to be real good friends if we make plenty of allowances for each other,

And everything has turned out for the best.

But all the same,

Marilla,

I shall certainly never again sell a cow before making sure to whom she belongs.

And I do not like parrots.

Reviews

Tea with the curmudgeon… Anne can win anybody over!