Welcome to Drift Off Bedtime Stories.
I'm your host Joanne,
And I'm so glad you've joined me.
Tonight,
We begin a new journey together as we dive into the timeless classic Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery.
Each Sunday,
I'll be narrating a few chapters,
Offering a gentle escape into the charming world of Anne Shirley and the beautiful landscapes of Prince Edward Island.
Now,
Before we begin,
Let's take a moment to relax and settle in.
Find a comfortable position,
Gently close your eyes,
And take a deep breath in,
And slowly exhale.
Feel your body beginning to unwind as you let go of any tension.
Imagine yourself in a peaceful,
Cozy space,
Ready to drift off into a world of imagination and rest.
And so,
My friend,
Let's step into the enchanting world now,
Of Anne of Green Gables.
Chapter 13.
The Delights of Anticipation.
It's time Anne was in to do her sewing,
Said Marilla,
Glancing at the clock,
And then out into the yellow August afternoon,
Where everything drowsed in the heat.
She stayed playing with Diana more than a half an hour more,
And I gave her leave to.
And now she's perched out there on the woodpile,
Talking to Matthew,
Nineteen to the dozen,
When she knows perfectly well she ought to be at her work.
And of course he's listening to her like a perfect ninny.
I never saw such an infatuated man.
The more she talks,
And the odder the things she says,
The more he's delighted,
Evidently.
Anne Shirley,
You come right in here this minute,
Do you hear me?
A series of staccato steps on the west window brought Anne flying in from the yard,
Eyes shining,
Cheeks faintly flushed with pink,
Unbraided hair streaming behind her in a torrent of brightness.
Oh,
Marilla,
She exclaimed breathlessly,
There's going to be a Sunday school picnic next week,
In Mr.
Harmon Andrews' field,
Right near the Lake of Shining Waters,
And Mrs.
Superintendent Bell and Mrs.
Rachel Lind are going to make ice cream.
Think of it,
Marilla,
Ice cream,
And.
.
.
Oh,
Marilla,
Can I go to it?
Just look at the clock,
If you please,
Anne.
What time did I tell you to come in?
Two o'clock.
But isn't it splendid about the picnic,
Marilla?
Please,
Can I go?
Oh,
I've never been to a picnic.
I've dreamed of picnics,
But I've never.
.
.
Yes,
I told you to come at two o'clock,
And it's a quarter to three.
I'd like to know why you didn't obey me,
Anne.
Why,
I meant to,
Marilla,
As much as could be,
But you have no idea how fascinating Idlewild is.
And then,
Of course,
I had to tell Matthew about the picnic.
Matthew's such a sympathetic listener.
Please,
Can I go?
You'll have to learn to resist the fascination of idle whatever you call it.
When I tell you to come in at a certain time,
I mean that time,
And not half an hour later.
And you needn't stop to discourse with sympathetic listeners on your way,
Either.
As for the picnic,
Of course you can go.
You're a Sunday School scholar,
And it's not likely I'd refuse to let you go when all the other little girls are going.
But,
But,
Faltered Anne,
Diana says that everybody must take a basket of things to eat.
I can't cook,
As you know,
Marilla,
And I don't mind going to a picnic without puffed sleeves so much,
But I'd feel terribly humiliated if I had to go without a basket.
It's been preying on my mind ever since Diana told me.
Well,
It needn't prey any longer.
I'll bake you a basket.
Oh,
You dear,
Good Marilla.
Oh,
You're so kind to me.
Oh,
I'm so much obliged to you.
Getting through with her owes,
Anne cast herself into Marilla's arms and rapturously kissed her silo cheek.
It was the first time in her whole life that childish lips had voluntarily touched Marilla's face.
Again,
That sudden sensation of startling sweetness thrilled her.
She was secretly,
Vastly pleased at Anne's impulsive caress,
Which was probably the reason why she said brusquely,
There,
There,
Never mind your kissing nonsense.
I'd sooner see you do strictly as you're told.
As for cooking,
I mean to begin giving you lessons in that some of these days.
But you're so feather-brained,
Anne.
I've been waiting to see if you'd sober down a little and learn to be steady before I begin.
You've got to keep your wits about you in cooking and not stop in the middle of things to let your thoughts rove all over creation.
Now,
Get out your patchwork and have your square done before tea time.
I do not like patchwork,
Said Anne dolefully,
Hunting out her work basket and sitting down before a little heap of red and white diamonds with a sigh.
I think some kinds of sewing would be nice,
But there's no scope for imagination in patchwork.
It's just one little seam after another and you never seem to be getting anywhere.
But of course,
I'd rather be Anne of Green Gables sewing patchwork than Anne of any other place with nothing to do but play.
I wish time went as quick sewing patches as it does when I'm playing with Diana though.
Oh,
We do have such elegant times,
Marilla.
I have to furnish most of the imagination,
But I'm well able to do that.
Diana is simply perfect in every other way.
You know that little piece of land across the brook that runs up between our farm and Mr.
Barry's?
It belongs to Mr.
William Bell,
And right in the corner there is a little ring of white birch trees.
The most romantic spot,
Marilla.
Diana and I have our playhouse there.
We call it Idlewild.
Isn't that a poetical name?
I assure you it took me some time to think it out.
I stayed awake nearly a whole night before I invented it.
Then,
Just as I was dropping off to sleep,
It came like an inspiration.
Diana was enraptured when she heard it.
We have got our house fixed up elegantly.
You must come and see it,
Marilla,
Won't you?
We have great big stones,
All covered with moss for seats,
And boards from tree to tree for shelves,
And we have all our dishes on them.
Of course,
They're all broken,
But it's the easiest thing in the world to imagine that they're whole.
There's a piece of a plate with a spray of red and yellow ivy on it that is especially beautiful.
We keep it in the parlor,
And we have the fairy glass there too.
The fairy glass is as lovely as a dream.
Diana found it in the woods behind the chicken house.
It's all full of rainbows,
Just little young rainbows that haven't grown big yet,
And Diana's mother told her it was broken off a hanging lamp they once had,
But it's nice to imagine the fairies lost it one night when they had a ball,
So we call it the fairy glass.
Matthew's going to make us a table.
Oh,
We've named that little round pool over in Mr.
Barry's field,
Willowmere.
I got that name out of the book Diana lent me.
That was a thrilling book,
Marilla.
The heroine had five lovers.
I'd be satisfied with one,
Wouldn't you?
She was very handsome,
And she went through great tribulations.
She could faint as easy as anything.
I'd love to be able to faint,
Wouldn't you,
Marilla?
It's so romantic.
But I'm really very healthy,
For all I'm so thin.
I believe I'm getting fatter though,
Don't you think I am?
I look at my elbows every morning when I get up to see if any dimples are coming.
Diana's having a new dress made with elbow sleeves.
She's going to wear it to the picnic.
Oh,
I do hope it will be fine next Wednesday.
I don't feel that I could enjoy the disappointment if anything happened to prevent me from getting to the picnic.
I suppose I'd live through it,
But I'm certain it would be a lifelong sorrow.
It wouldn't matter if I got to a hundred picnics in after years.
They wouldn't make up for missing this one.
They're going to have boats on the lake of shining waters,
And ice cream as I told you.
I've never tasted ice cream.
Diana tried to explain what it was like,
But I guess ice cream is one of those things that are beyond imagination.
Anne,
You have talked even on for ten minutes by the clock,
Said Marilla.
Now,
Just for curiosity's sake,
See if you can hold your tongue for the same length of time.
Anne held her tongue as desired,
But for the rest of the week,
She talked picnic,
And thought picnic,
And dreamed picnic.
On Saturday,
It rained,
And she worked herself up into a frantic state,
Lest it should keep on raining until and over Wednesday that Marilla made her sew an extra patchwork square by way of steadying her nerves.
On Sunday,
Anne confided to Marilla,
On the way from church,
That she grew actually cold all over with excitement when the minister announced the picnic from the pulpit.
Such a thrill as went up and down my back,
Marilla.
I don't think I'd ever really believed,
Until then,
That there was honestly going to be a picnic.
I couldn't help fearing I'd only imagined it.
But when a minister says a thing in the pulpit,
You just have to believe it.
You set your heart too much on things,
Anne,
Said Marilla,
With a sigh.
I'm afraid there'll be a great many disappointments in store for you through life.
Oh,
Marilla,
Looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them,
Exclaimed Anne.
You may not get the things themselves,
But nothing can prevent you from having fun of looking forward to them.
Mrs.
Lind says,
Blessed are they who expect nothing,
For they shall not be disappointed.
But I think it would be worse to expect nothing than to be disappointed.
Marilla wore her amethyst brooch to church that day as usual.
Marilla always wore her amethyst brooch to church.
She would have thought it rather sacrilegious to leave it off,
As bad as forgetting her Bible or her collection dime.
That amethyst brooch was Marilla's most treasured possession.
A seafaring uncle had given it to her mother,
Who in turn had bequeathed it to Marilla.
It was an old-fashioned oval,
Containing a braid of her mother's hair,
Surrounded by a border of very fine amethysts.
Marilla knew too little about precious stones to realize how fine the amethysts actually were,
But she thought them very beautiful,
And was always pleasantly conscious of their violet shimmer at her throat,
Above her good brown satin dress,
Even although she could not see it.
Anne had been smitten with delighted admiration when she first saw that brooch.
Oh,
Marilla,
It's a perfectly elegant brooch.
I don't know how you can pay attention to the sermon or the prayers when you have it on.
I couldn't,
I know.
I think amethysts are just sweet.
They are what I used to think diamonds were like.
Long ago,
Before I had ever seen a diamond,
I read about them,
And I tried to imagine what they would be like.
I thought they would be lovely,
Glimmering purple stones.
When I saw a real diamond in a lady's ring one day,
I was so disappointed I cried.
Of course it was very lovely,
But it wasn't my idea of a diamond.
Will you let me hold the brooch for one minute,
Marilla?
Do you think amethysts can be the souls of good violets?
Chapter 14 Anne's Confession On the Monday evening before the picnic,
Marilla came down from her room with a troubled face.
Anne,
She said,
To that small personage,
Who was shelling peas by the spotless table and singing Nelly of the Hazel Dell with a vigor and expression that did credit to Diana's teaching.
Did you see anything of my amethyst brooch?
I thought I stuck it in my pincushion when I came home from church yesterday evening,
But I can't find it anywhere.
I saw it this afternoon when you were away at the Aid Society,
Said Anne,
A little slowly.
I was passing your door when I saw it on the cushion,
So I went in to look at it.
Did you touch it,
Said Marilla sternly?
Yes,
Admitted Anne.
I took it up,
And I pinned it on my breast just to see how it would look.
You had no business to do anything of the sort.
It's very wrong in a little girl to meddle.
You shouldn't have gone into my room in the first place,
And you shouldn't have touched a brooch that didn't belong to you in the second.
Where did you put it?
Oh,
I put it back on the bureau.
I hadn't it on a minute.
Truly,
I didn't mean to meddle,
Marilla.
I didn't think about its being wrong to go in and try on the brooch,
But I see now that it was,
And I'll never do it again.
That's one good thing about me.
I never do the same naughty thing twice.
You didn't put it back,
Said Marilla.
That brooch isn't anywhere on the bureau.
You've taken it out or something,
Anne.
I did put it back,
Said Anne quickly,
Pertly,
Marilla thought.
I don't just remember where I stuck it on the pincushion or laid it in the china tray,
But I'm perfectly certain I put it back.
I'll go and have another look,
Said Marilla,
Determining to be just.
If you put that brooch back,
It's there still.
If it isn't,
I'll know you didn't.
That's all.
Marilla went to her room and made a thorough search.
Not only over the bureau,
But in every other place she thought the brooch might possibly be.
It was not to be found,
And she returned to the kitchen.
Anne,
The brooch is gone.
By your admission,
You were the last person to handle it.
Now,
What have you done with it?
Tell me the truth at once.
Did you take it out and leave it and lose it?
No,
I didn't,
Said Anne solemnly,
Meeting Marilla's angry gaze squarely.
I never took the brooch from your room,
And that's the truth,
Even if it means being punished for it,
Though I'm not exactly sure what being punished would involve.
So there,
Marilla.
Anne's so there was only intended to emphasize her assertion,
But Marilla took it as a display of defiance.
I believe you're telling me a falsehood,
Anne,
She said sharply.
I know you are.
There,
Now.
Don't say anything more unless you're prepared to tell the whole truth.
Go to your room and stay there until you're ready to confess.
Will I take the peas with me,
Said Anne meekly?
No,
I'll finish shelling them myself.
Do as I bid you.
When Anne had gone,
Marilla went about her evening tasks in a very disturbed state of mind.
She was worried about her valuable brooch.
What if Anne had lost it?
And how wicked of the child to deny having taken it when anybody could see she must have,
With such an innocent face,
Too.
I don't know what would have been worse,
Thought Marilla as she nervously shelled the peas.
Of course,
I don't think she meant to steal it.
She probably just took it to play with,
Or to fuel her imagination.
She must have taken it,
That's clear,
Because no one else has been in that room since she was there,
According to her story,
Until I went up tonight.
And the brooch is gone,
No doubt about it.
I suppose she's lost it and is afraid to admit it for fear of being punished.
It's dreadful to think she might be lying.
That's far worse than her temper.
It's a huge responsibility to have a child in your home that you can't trust.
Slyness and dishonesty,
That's what she's shown.
I feel worse about that than about the brooch.
If only she had told the truth,
I wouldn't mind so much.
Marilla searched her room throughout the evening for the brooch but couldn't find it.
A bedtime check in the East Gable also turned up nothing.
Anne kept denying she knew anything about the brooch,
But Marilla was convinced otherwise.
The next morning,
Marilla told Matthew the story.
He was confused and puzzled.
He didn't want to lose faith in Anne,
But had to admit things didn't look good for her.
Are you sure it didn't fall behind the bureau?
Was his only suggestion.
I've moved the bureau,
Taken out the drawers and looked in every nook and cranny,
Marilla replied firmly.
The brooch is gone,
And that child has taken it and lied about it.
That's the harsh truth,
Matthew Cuthbert,
And we need to face it.
So what are you going to do about it?
Matthew asked sadly,
Feeling relieved that Marilla was handling the situation.
He had no desire to get involved this time.
She'll stay in her room until she confesses,
Said Marilla firmly,
Recalling the success of this method before.
Then we'll see.
Maybe we can find the brooch if she tells us where she took it,
But she'll still need to be punished,
Matthew.
Well,
You'll have to punish her,
Said Matthew,
Putting on his hat.
Remember,
You told me to stay out of it.
Marilla felt abandoned by everyone.
She couldn't even ask Mrs.
Lindt for advice.
She went up to the east gable with a serious face and came back looking even more serious.
Anne refused to confess,
Insisting she hadn't taken the brooch.
She'd been crying,
And Marilla felt a pang of pity,
Which she sternly repressed.
By night,
She was,
As she put it,
Worn out.
You'll stay in this room until you confess,
Anne.
Make up your mind to that,
She said firmly.
But the picnic's tomorrow,
Marilla,
Cried Anne.
You won't keep me from going,
Will you?
Just let me out for the afternoon,
And I'll stay here as long as you like afterwards.
But I must go to the picnic.
You won't go to picnics or anywhere else until you've confessed,
Anne.
Oh,
Marilla,
Gasped Anne.
But Marilla had already left and shut the door.
Wednesday morning dawned bright and fair,
Perfect for a picnic.
Birds sang around green gables,
And the garden's Madonna lilies sent their sweet scent through the doors and windows.
The birches waved as if expecting Anne's usual morning greeting from the east gable,
But Anne was not at her window.
When Marilla brought her breakfast,
She found Anne sitting primly on her bed,
Pale and determined,
With tightly shut lips and gleaming eyes.
Marilla,
I'm ready to confess.
Ah,
Marilla set down the tray.
Her method had worked again,
But this success felt very bitter.
Let's hear what you have to say then,
Anne.
I took the amethyst brooch,
Said Anne,
As if reciting a lesson.
I took it just as you said.
I didn't mean to take it when I went in,
But it looked so beautiful when I pinned it on my dress.
I was overcome by temptation.
I imagined how thrilling it would be to take it to Idyllwild and pretend I was Lady Cordelia Fitzgerald.
It would be much easier to imagine if I had a real amethyst brooch.
Diana and I make necklaces of roseberries,
But roseberries are nothing compared to amethysts.
So I took the brooch.
I thought I could put it back before you came home.
I took the long way around to buy some time.
When I was crossing the bridge over the lake's shining waters,
I took the brooch off to look at it again.
Oh,
How it shone in the sunlight!
But then,
As I was leaning over the bridge,
It slipped through my fingers and fell down,
Down,
Down,
Sparkling all the way and sank beneath the lake of shining waters.
That's the best I can do at confessing,
Marilla.
Marilla felt a surge of anger.
This child had taken and lost her treasured amethyst brooch and now calmly recited the details without any apparent guilt or remorse.
Anne,
This is terrible,
Marilla said,
Trying to stay calm.
You are the wickedest girl I've ever heard of.
Yes,
I suppose I am,
Anne agreed calmly.
I know I need to be punished.
It's your duty to punish me,
Marilla.
Can you do it quickly?
I'd like to go to the picnic with nothing on my mind.
Picnic?
You'll go to no picnic today,
Anne Shirley.
That will be your punishment,
And it's not nearly severe enough for what you've done.
Not go to the picnic?
Anne jumped up and grabbed Marilla's hand.
But you promised I could go.
Oh,
Marilla,
I must go to the picnic.
That's why I confessed.
Punish me any other way,
But please let me go to the picnic.
Think of the ice cream.
I may never have another chance to taste ice cream.
Marilla firmly pulled Anne's hands away.
Don't plead,
Anne.
You are not going to the picnic,
And that's final.
No more talking about it.
Anne saw that Marilla wouldn't change her mind.
She clasped her hands,
Let out a loud cry,
And threw herself on the bed,
Crying and writhing in despair.
For heaven's sake,
Gasped Marilla,
Hurrying out of the room.
I believe the child is crazy.
No sensible child would act like this.
If she's not crazy,
She's just bad.
Oh dear,
Maybe Rachel was right all along,
But I've committed to this,
And I won't turn back now.
It was a miserable morning.
Marilla worked fiercely,
Scrubbing the porch floor and the dairy shelves,
Even though they didn't need it.
Then she went outside and raked the yard.
When lunch was ready,
She called Anne.
A tear-stained face appeared,
Looking tragically over the banisters.
Come down to your lunch,
Anne.
I don't want any lunch,
Marilla,
Said Anne,
Sobbing.
I can't eat.
My heart is broken.
Someday you'll feel guilty for breaking it,
But I forgive you.
Remember that I forgive you,
But please don't ask me to eat anything,
Especially boiled pork and greens.
Boiled pork and greens are so unromantic when one is suffering.
Frustrated,
Marilla went back to the kitchen and told Matthew what had happened.
Matthew,
Caught between wanting to be fair and feeling sorry for Anne,
Was very unhappy.
Well now,
She shouldn't have taken the broach or lied about it,
Matthew admitted,
Sadly looking at his plate of pork and beans,
Feeling it was not right food for such a situation.
But she's such a little thing,
Such an interesting little thing.
Don't you think it's pretty harsh not to let her go to the picnic when she wants to go so badly?
Matthew Cuthbert,
I'm amazed at you.
I think I've been too easy on her.
She doesn't seem to realize how wrong she's been.
That's what worries me most.
If she felt sorry,
It wouldn't be so bad.
And you don't seem to realize it either.
You're always making excuses for her.
I can see that.
Well now,
She's such a little thing,
Matthew weakly repeated.
And allowances should be made,
Marilla.
You know she's never had any proper upbringing.
Well,
She's getting it now,
Marilla retorted.
Matthew was silenced but not convinced.
The meal was very dismal.
The only cheerful one was Jerry Buote,
The hired boy,
Which Marilla found annoying.
After washing the dishes,
Setting the bread sponge and feeding the hens,
Marilla remembered a small tear in her best black lace shawl.
She decided to mend it.
The shawl was in a box in her trunk.
As she lifted it out,
The sunlight shining through the window lines revealed something sparkling in the shawl.
Marilla gasped and grabbed it.
It was the amethyst brooch,
Caught by its clasp on a thread of lace.
Dear life and heart,
Said Marilla in surprise.
What does this mean?
Here's my brooch safe and sound that I thought was at the bottom of Barry's pond.
What did that girl mean by saying she took it and lost it?
I believe Green Gables is bewitched.
I remember now that when I took off my shawl on Monday afternoon,
I laid it on the bureau for a minute.
The brooch must have gotten caught in it somehow.
Marilla went to the East Gable,
Brooch in hand.
Anne had cried herself out and was sitting sadly by the window.
Anne,
Surely,
Said Marilla solemnly.
I've just found my brooch,
Hanging on my black lace shawl.
Now,
I want to know what that story you told me this morning meant.
Well,
You said you'd keep me here until I confessed,
Anne replied tiredly.
So I decided to confess,
Because I was determined to go to the picnic.
I made up a confession last night and practiced it,
So I wouldn't forget it.
But you wouldn't let me go to the picnic anyway,
So all my effort was wasted.
Marilla had to laugh to spite herself,
But she felt guilty.
Anne,
You're something else,
But I was wrong,
I see that now.
I shouldn't have doubted you when you've never lied to me before.
Of course,
It wasn't right for you to confess to something you didn't do,
That was very wrong,
But I pushed you into it.
So if you'll forgive me,
I'll forgive you,
And we'll start fresh.
Now get ready for the picnic.
Anne jumped up like a rocket.
Oh,
Marilla,
Isn't it too late?
No,
It's only two o'clock,
They won't be fully gathered yet,
And it will be an hour before they have tea.
Wash your face,
Comb your hair,
And put on your gingham dress.
I'll pack a basket for you,
There's plenty of food in the house,
And I'll get Jerry to hitch up the sorrel and drive you to the picnic.
Oh,
Marilla,
Exclaimed Anne,
Rushing to the washstand.
Five minutes ago,
I was so miserable,
I wished I'd never been born,
And now I wouldn't trade places with an angel.
Sweet dreams,
My friend.
Sleep well.
