Anne's House of Dreams - Lucy Maud Montgomery (ebook reader macos .txt) š
- Author: Lucy Maud Montgomery
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āComparatively calm, Mistress Blythe, comparatively calm. She says, says she, `Well, Providence sends seasons of humiliation to a country, same as to individuals. You Grits have been cold and hungry for many a year. Make haste to get warmed and fed, for you wonāt be in long.ā `Well, now Cornelia,ā I says, `mebbe Providence thinks Canada needs a real long spell of humiliation.ā Ah, Susan, have YOU heard the news? The Liberals are in.ā
Susan had just come in from the kitchen, attended by the odor of delectable dishes which always seemed to hover around her.
āNow, are they?ā she said, with beautiful unconcern. āWell, I never could see but that my bread rose just as light when Grits were in as when they were not. And if any party, Mrs. Doctor, dear, will make it rain before the week is out, and save our kitchen garden from entire ruination, that is the party Susan will vote for. In the meantime, will you just step out and give me your opinion on the meat for dinner? I am fearing that it is very tough, and I think that we had better change our butcher as well as our government.ā
One evening, a week later, Anne walked down to the Point, to see if she could get some fresh fish from Captain Jim, leaving Little Jem for the first time. It was quite a tragedy. Suppose he cried? Suppose Susan did not know just exactly what to do for him? Susan was calm and serene.
āI have had as much experience with him as you, Mrs. Doctor, dear, have I not?ā
āYes, with himābut not with other babies. Why, I looked after three pairs of twins, when I was a child, Susan. When they cried, I gave them peppermint or castor oil quite coolly. Itās quite curious now to recall how lightly I took all those babies and their woes.ā
āOh, well, if Little Jem cries, I will just clap a hot water bag on his little stomach,ā said Susan.
āNot too hot, you know,ā said Anne anxiously. Oh, was it really wise to go?
āDo not you fret, Mrs. Doctor, dear. Susan is not the woman to burn a wee man. Bless him, he has no notion of crying.ā
Anne tore herself away finally and enjoyed her walk to the Point after all, through the long shadows of the sun-setting. Captain Jim was not in the living room of the lighthouse, but another man wasāa handsome, middle-aged man, with a strong, clean-shaven chin, who was unknown to Anne. Nevertheless, when she sat down, he began to talk to her with all the assurance of an old acquaintance. There was nothing amiss in what he said or the way he said it, but Anne rather resented such a cool taking-for-granted in a complete stranger. Her replies were frosty, and as few as decency required. Nothing daunted, her companion talked on for several minutes, then excused himself and went away. Anne could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eye and it annoyed her. Who was the creature? There was something vaguely familiar about him but she was certain she had never seen him before.
āCaptain Jim, who was that who just went out?ā she asked, as Captain Jim came in.
āMarshall Elliott,ā answered the captain.
āMarshall Elliott!ā cried Anne. āOh, Captain Jimāit wasnātā yes, it WAS his voiceāoh, Captain Jim, I didnāt know himāand I was quite insulting to him! WHY didnāt he tell me? He must have seen I didnāt know him.ā
āHe wouldnāt say a word about itāheād just enjoy the joke. Donāt worry over snubbing himāheāll think it fun. Yes, Marshallās shaved off his beard at last and cut his hair. His party is in, you know. I didnāt know him myself first time I saw him. He was up in Carter Flaggās store at the Glen the night after election day, along with a crowd of others, waiting for the news. About twelve the āphone came throughāthe Liberals were in. Marshall just got up and walked outāhe didnāt cheer or shoutāhe left the others to do that, and they nearly lifted the roof off Carterās store, I reckon. Of course, all the Tories were over in Raymond Russellās store. Not much cheering THERE. Marshall went straight down the street to the side door of Augustus Palmerās barber shop. Augustus was in bed asleep, but Marhall hammered on the door until he got up and come down, wanting to know what all the racket was about.
āCome into your shop and do the best job you ever did in your life, Gus,ā said Marshall. `The Liberals are in and youāre going to barber a good Grit before the sun rises.ā
āGus was mad as hopsāpartly because heād been dragged out of bed, but more because heās a Tory. He vowed he wouldnāt shave any man after twelve at night.
ā`Youāll do what I want you to do, sonny,ā said Marshall, `or Iāll jest turn you over my knee and give you one of those spankings your mother forgot.ā
āHeād have done it, too, and Gus knew it, for Marshall is as strong as an ox and Gus is only a midget of a man. So he gave in and towed Marshall in to the shop and went to work. `Now,ā says he, `Iāll barber you up, but if you say one word to me about the Grits getting in while Iām doing it Iāll cut your throat with this razor,ā says he. You wouldnāt have thought mild little Gus could be so bloodthirsty, would you? Shows what party politics will do for a man. Marshall kept quiet and got his hair and beard disposed of and went home. When his old housekeeper heard him come upstairs she peeked out of her bedroom door to see whether ātwas him or the hired boy. And when she saw a strange man striding down the hall with a candle in his hand she screamed blue murder and fainted dead away. They had to send for the doctor before they could bring her to, and it was several days before she could look at Marshall without shaking all over.ā
Captain Jim had no fish. He seldom went out in his boat that summer, and his long tramping expeditions were over. He spent a great deal of his time sitting by his seaward window, looking out over the gulf, with his swiftly-whitening head leaning on his hand. He sat there tonight for many silent minutes, keeping some tryst with the past which Anne would not disturb. Presently he pointed to the iris of the West:
āThatās beautiful, isnāt, it, Mistress Blythe? But I wish you could have seen the sunrise this morning. It was a wonderful thingāwonderful. Iāve seen all kinds of sunrises come over that gulf. Iāve been all over the world, Mistress Blythe, and take it all in all, Iāve never seen a finer sight than a summer sunrise over the gulf. A man canāt pick his time for dying, Mistress Blytheājest got to go when the Great Captain gives His sailing orders. But if I could Iād go out when the morning comes across that water. Iāve watched it many a time and thought what a thing it would be to pass out through that great white glory to whatever was waiting beyant, on a sea that aināt mapped out on any airthly chart. I think, Mistress Blythe, that Iād find lost Margaret there.ā
Captain Jim had often talked to Anne of lost Margaret since he had told her the old story. His love for her trembled in every toneāthat love that had never grown faint or forgetful.
āAnyway, I hope when my time comes Iāll go quick and easy. I donāt think Iām a coward, Mistress BlytheāIāve looked an ugly death in the face more than once without blenching. But the thought of a lingering death does give me a queer, sick feeling of horror.ā
āDonāt talk about leaving us, dear, DEAR Captain, Jim,ā pleaded Anne, in a choked voice, patting the old brown hand, once so strong, but now grown very feeble. āWhat would we do without you?ā
Captain Jim smiled beautifully.
āOh, youād get along nicelyānicelyābut you wouldnāt forget the old man altogether, Mistress Blytheāno, I donāt think youāll ever quite forget him. The race of Joseph always remembers one another. But itāll be a memory that wonāt hurtāI like to think that my memory wonāt hurt my friendsāitāll always be kind of pleasant to them, I hope and believe. It wonāt be very long now before lost Margaret calls me, for the last time. Iāll be all ready to answer. I jest spoke of this because thereās a little favor I want to ask you. Hereās this poor old Matey of mineāāCaptain Jim reached out a hand and poked the big, warm, velvety, golden ball on the sofa. The First Mate uncoiled himself like a spring with a nice, throaty, comfortable sound, half purr, half meow, stretched his paws in air, turned over and coiled himself up again. āHEāll miss me when I start on the Vāyage. I canāt bear to think of leaving the poor critter to starve, like he was left before. If anything happens to me will you give Matey a bite and a corner, Mistress Blythe?ā
āIndeed I will.ā
āThen that is all I had on my mind. Your Little Jem is to have the few curious things I picked upāIāve seen to that. And now I donāt like to see tears in those pretty eyes, Mistress Blythe. Iāll mebbe hang on for quite a spell yet. I heard you reading a piece of poetry one day last winterāone of Tennysonās pieces. Iād sorter like to hear it again, if you could recite it for me.ā
Softly and clearly, while the seawind blew in on them, Anne repeated the beautiful lines of Tennysonās wonderful swan songā āCrossing the Bar.ā The old captain kept time gently with his sinewy hand.
āYes, yes, Mistress Blythe,ā he said, when she had finished, āthatās it, thatās it. He wasnāt a sailor, you tell meāI dunno how he could have put an old sailorās feelings into words like that, if he wasnāt one. He didnāt want any `sadness oā farewellsā and neither do I, Mistress Blytheāfor all will be well with me and mine beyant the bar.ā
āAny news from Green Gables, Anne?ā
āNothing very especial,ā replied Anne, folding up Marillaās letter. āJake Donnell has been there shingling the roof. He is a full-fledged carpenter now, so it seems he has had his own way in regard to the choice of a life-work. You remember his mother wanted him to be a college professor. I shall never forget the day she came to the school and rated me for failing to call him St. Clair.ā
āDoes anyone ever call him that now?ā
āEvidently not. It seems that he has completely lived it down. Even his mother has succumbed. I always thought that a boy with Jakeās chin and mouth would get his own way in the end. Diana writes me that Dora has a beau. Just think of itāthat child!ā
āDora is seventeen,ā said Gilbert. āCharlie Sloane and I were both mad about you when you were seventeen, Anne.ā
āReally, Gilbert, we must be getting on in years,ā said Anne, with a half-rueful smile, āwhen children who were six when we thought ourselves grown up are old enough now to have beaux. Doraās is Ralph AndrewsāJaneās brother. I remember him as a little, round, fat, white-headed fellow who was always at the foot of his class. But I understand he is quite a fine-looking young man now.ā
āDora will probably marry young. Sheās of the same type as Charlotta the Fourthāsheāll never miss her first chance for fear she might not get another.ā
āWell; if
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