9 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: "Haven't you heard?" said Jane wrathfully. "Well, it simply this. . .Joshua Pye has gone and painted the hall blue instead of green. . .a deep, brilliant blue, the shade they use for painting carts and wheelbarrows. And Mrs. Lynde says it is the most hideous color for a building, especially when combined with a red roof, that she ever saw or imagined!

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 9 A Question of Colour That old nuisance of a Rachel Lynde was here again today pestering me for a subscription towards buying a carpet for the vestry room, Said Mr. Harrison wrathfully. I detest that woman more than anybody I know. She can put a whole sermon, Text, Comment and application into six words and throw it at you like a brick. Anne, Who was perched on the edge of the verandah, Enjoying the charm of a mild west wind blowing across a newly ploughed field on a grey November twilight, And piping a quaint little melody among the twisted firs below the garden, Turned her dreamy face over her shoulder. The trouble is, You and Mrs. Lynde don't understand one another. The trouble is, You and Mrs. Lynde don't understand one another. She explained, That is always what is wrong with people when they don't like each other. I didn't like Mrs. Lynde at first either, But as soon as I came to understand her, I learned to. Mrs. Lynde may be an acquired taste with some folks, But I didn't keep on eating bananas because I was told I'd learn to like them if I did, Growled Mr. Harrison. And as for understanding her, I understand she's a confirmed busybody and I told her so. Oh, That must have hurt her feelings very much, Said Anne reproachfully. How could you say such a thing? I said some dreadful things to Mrs. Lynde long ago, But it was when I'd lost my temper, I couldn't say them deliberately. It was the truth and I believe in telling the truth to everybody. But you don't tell the whole truth, Objected Anne, You only tell the disagreeable part of it. Now you've told me a dozen times my hair was red, But you've never once told me I had a nice nose. I dare say you know it without any telling, Chuckled Mr. Harrison. I know I have red hair too, Although it's much darker than it used to be, So there's no need of telling me that either. Well, Well, I'll try not to mention it again since you're so sensitive. You must excuse me, Anne, I've got a habit of being outspoken and folks mustn't mind it. But they can't help minding it, And I don't think it's any help that it's your habit. What would you think of a person who went about sticking pins and needles into people and saying, Excuse me, You mustn't mind it, It's just a habit I've got? You'd think he was crazy, Wouldn't you? You'd think he was crazy, Wouldn't you? And as for Mrs. Lynn being a busybody, Perhaps she is, But did you tell her she had a very kind heart and always helped the poor and never said a word when Timothy Cotton stole a crock of butter out of her dairy and told his wife he'd bought it from her? Mrs. Cotton cast it up to her the next time they met, That it tasted of turnips, And Mrs. Lynn just said she was sorry it had turned out so poorly. I suppose she's got some good qualities, Conceded Mr. Harrison, Grudgingly. Most folks have. I have some myself, Though you might never suspect it. But anyhow, I ain't going to give anything to that carpet. Folks are everlasting begging for money here, It seems to me. How's your project of painting the hall coming on? Splendidly. We had a meeting of the AVIS last Friday night and found we had plenty of money subscribed to paint the hall and shingle the roof, Too. Most people gave very liberally, Mr. Harrison. Anne was a sweet-souled lass, But she could instill some venom into innocent italics when the occasional required. What colour are you going to have it? We've decided on a very pretty green. The roof will be dark red, Of course. Mr. Roger Pye is going to get the painting down today. Who's got the job? Mr. Joshua Pye of Carmody. He has nearly finished the shingling. We had to give him the contract for every one of the pies. And there are four families, You know. So they wouldn't give a cent unless Joshua got it. They had subscribed $12 between them and we thought it was too much to lose, Although some people think we shouldn't have given in to the pies. Mrs. Lynn said they try to run everything. The main question is, Will Joshua do his work well, Said Mr. Harrison. If he does, I don't see it matters whether his name's Pye or Pudding. He has the reputation of being a good workman, Though they say he's very peculiar and he hardly ever talks. He's peculiar enough, All right, Then, Said Mr. Harrison dryly. Or at least folks here will call him so. I never was much of a workman. I never was much of a talker till I came to Avonlea and then I had to begin in self-defence. Or Mrs. Lynn would have said I was dumb and started a subscription to have me taught sign language. You're not going yet, Anne? I must. I've some sewing to do for Dora this evening. Besides, Davy's probably breaking Marilla's heart with some new mischief by this time. This morning, The first thing he said was, Where does the dark go, Anne? I want to know. I told him it went round to the other side of the world, But after breakfast he declared it didn't and that it went down the well. Marilla said she caught him hanging over the wellbox four times today trying to reach down to the dark. He's a limb, Declared Mr. Harrison. He came over here yesterday and pulled six feathers out of Ginger's tail before I could stop him. The poor bird has been moping ever since. Those children must be a sight of trouble to you folks. Everything that's worth having is some trouble, Said Anne, Secretly resolving to forgive Davy's next offence, Whatever it might be, Since he had avenged her on Ginger. Mr. Roger Pye brought the hall paint home that night and Mr. Joshua Pye, A surly, Tacky-turned man, Began painting the next day. He was not disturbed in his task. The hall was situated on what was called the Lower Road. In late autumn this road was always muddy and wet and people going to Carmody travelled by the longer Upper Road. The hall was so closely surrounded by fir woods it was invisible unless you were near it. Mr. Joshua Pye painted a way in the solitude and independence that was so dear to his unsociable heart. Friday afternoon he finished his job and went home to Carmody. Soon after his departure, Mrs. Rachel Lynde drove by, Having braved the mud of the Lower Road out of curiosity to see what the hall looked like in its new coat of paint. When she rounded the spruce curve, She saw. The sight affected Mrs. Lynde oddly. She dropped the reins, Held the brush, Held up her hands and said, Gracious Providence, And stared as if she could not believe her eyes. Then she laughed almost hysterically. There must be some mistake. There must. I knew those Pyes would make a mess of things. Mrs. Lynde drove home, Meeting several people on the road and stopping to tell them about the hall. The news flew like wildfire. Gilbert Blythe, Poring over a textbook at home, Heard it from his father's hired boy at sunset and rushed breathlessly to Green Gables, Joined on the way by Fred Wright. They found Diana Barry, Jane Andrews and Anne Shirley despair personified at the yard gate of Green Gables under the big leafless willows. It isn't true, Surely, Anne? Exclaimed Gilbert. It is true, Answered Anne, Looking like the muse of tragedy. Mrs. Lynde called on her way from Carmody to tell me. It's simply dreadful. What is the use of trying to improve anything? What's dreadful? Asked Oliver Sloane, Arriving at this moment with a bad box he'd bought from town for Marilla. Haven't you heard? Said Jane wrathfully. Well, It's simply this. Joshua Pye has gone and painted the whole blue instead of green. A deep, Brilliant blue, The shade they use for painting carts and wheelbarrows. And Mrs. Lynde said it's the most hideous colour for a building, Especially when combined with a red roof that she ever saw or imagined. Simply have knocked me down with a feather when I heard it. It's heartbreaking after all the trouble we've had. How on earth could such a mistake have happened? Wailed Diana. The blame of this unmerciful disaster was eventually narrowed down to the Pyes. The improvers had decided to use Morton Harrison paints and the Morton Harris paint cans were numbered according to a coloured card. A purchaser could choose his shade on the card and order by the accompanying number. Number 147 was the shade of green desired and when Mr. Roger Pye sent word to the improvers by his son John Andrew that he was going to town and would get their paint for them, The improvers told John Andrew to tell his father to get 147. John Andrew always averred he did so, But Mr. Roger Pye staunchly declared that John Andrews told him 157. And there the matter stands to this day. That night there was blank dismay in every avenue house where an improver lived. The gloom at Green Gables was so intense it quenched even Davey. Anne wept and would not be comforted. I must cry even if I am almost 17, Marilla, She sobbed. It's so mortifying and it sounds the death knell of our society will simply be laughed out of existence. In life as in dreams, However, Things often go by contraries. The Avonlea people did not laugh. They were too angry. Their money had gone to paint the hall and consequently they felt themselves bitterly aggrieved by the mistake. Public indignation centred on the Pyes. Roger Pye and John Andrew had bungled the matter between them and as for Joshua Pye, He must be a born fool not to suspect there was something wrong when he opened the cans and saw the colour of the paint. Joshua Pye, Whilst thus am inadverted upon, Retorted that the Avonlea tasting colours was no business of his, Whatever his private opinion might be. He had been hired to paint the hall not to talk about it and he meant to have his money for it. The improvers paid him his money in bitterness of spirit after consulting Mr Peter Sloan, Who was a magistrate. You'll have to pay it, Peter told him. You can't hold him responsible for the mistake since he claims he was never told what the colour was supposed to be but just given the cans and told to go ahead. But it's a burning shame and that hall certainly does look awful. The luckless improvers expected that Avonlea would be more prejudiced than ever against them but instead public sympathy veered round in their favour. People thought the eager, Enthusiastic little band who had worked so hard for their object had been badly used. Mrs Lind told them to keep on and show the Pyes there really were good people in the world who could do good things without making a muddle of them. Mr Major Spencer sent them word he would clean out all the stumps along the road front of his farm and seed it down with grass at his own expense. And Mrs Herium Sloan called at the school one day and beckoned Anne out onto the porch to tell her if the society wanted to make a geranium bed at the crossroads in the spring they needn't be afraid of her cow for she would see the marauding animals kept within safe bounds. Even Mr Harrison chuckled if he chuckled at all in private. And with all sympathy outwardly. Never mind, Anne. Most paints fade uglier every year but that blue is as ugly as it can be to begin with so it's bound to fade prettier. And the roof is shingled and painted all right. You've accomplished so much anyhow. But Avonlea's Blue Hall will be a byword in all the neighbouring settlements from this time out, Said Anne bitterly. And it must be confessed. That it was.

Reviews

Delightful… Mr Harrison’s description of Mrs Lynde is priceless😅 thank you for reading!❤️🙏🏽❤️