Classic Audiobook Collection - Emily Climbs by Lucy Maud Montgomery ~ Full Audiobook [family]

Starting point is 00:00:00 Emily Climes by Lucy Maude Montgomery. Chapter 1. Writing herself out. Emily Birdstar was alone in her room in the old new moon farmhouse at Blair Water, one stormy night in a February of the olden years before the world turned upside down. She was at that moment as perfectly happy as any human being is ever permitted to be. Aunt Elizabeth, in consideration of the coldness of the night, had allowed her to have a fire in her little fireplace, a rare favor. It was burning brightly and showering a red-golden light over this small immaculate room,

Starting point is 00:00:34 with its timid furniture and deep-set, wide-silled windows, to whose frosted blue-white panes the snowflakes clung in little wreaths. It lent depth and mystery and allure to the mirror on the wall, which reflected Emily as she sat coiled on the ottoman before the fire, writing by the light of two tall white candles, which were the only approved means of illumination at New Moon, in a brand new, glossy black Jimmy book, which cousin Jimmy had given her that day. Emily had been very glad to get it, for she had filled the one he had given her the preceding autumn,

Starting point is 00:01:05 and for over a week she had suffered acute pangs of suppression because she could not write in a non-existent diary. Her diary had become a dominant factor in her young vivid life. It had taken the place of certain letters she had written in her childhood to her dead father, in which she had been wont to write out her problems and worries, for even in the magic years when one is almost fourteen one has problems and worries especially when one is under the strict and well-meant but not over-tender governance of an aunt elizabeth murray sometimes emily felt that if it were not for her diary she would have flown into little bits by reason of consuming her own smoke the fat black jimmy books seemed to her like a personal friend and a safe confidant for certain matters which burned for expression and yet were too combustible to be trusted to the years of any living being now blank books of any sort were not easy to come by a new moon, and if it had not been for Cousin Jimmy, Emily might never had had one. Certainly Aunt Elizabeth would not give her one. Aunt Elizabeth thought Emily wasted

Starting point is 00:02:02 far too much time over her scribbling nonsense as it was, and Aunt Laura did not dare go contrary to Aunt Elizabeth in this, more by token that Laura herself really thought Emily might be better employed. Aunt Laura was a jewel of a woman, but certain things were holding from her eyes. Now cousin Jimmy was never in the least frightened of Aunt Elizabeth, and when the notion occurred to him that Emily probably wanted another blank book. That blank book materialized straight away, in defiance of Aunt Elizabeth's scornful glances. He had gone to Shrewsbury that very day, in the teeth of the rising storm, for no other reason than to get it. So Emily was happy in her subtle and friendly firelight, while the wind howled and shrieked through the great old trees to

Starting point is 00:02:42 the north of New Moon, sent huge spectral wreaths of snow whirling across Cousin Jimmy's famous garden, drifted the sundial completely over, and whistled eerily through the three princesses. as Emily always called the three tall Lombardies in the corner of the garden. I love a storm like this at night when I don't have to go out in it, wrote Emily. Cousin Jimmy and I had a splendid evening planning out our garden and choosing our seeds and plants in the catalog. Just where the biggest drift is making behind the summer house, we're going to have a bed of pink asters, and we are going to give the golden ones, who are dreaming under four feet of snow, a background of flowering almond.

Starting point is 00:03:17 I love to plan out summer days like this in the midst of a storm. It makes me feel as if I were winning a victory over something ever so much bigger than myself, just because I have a brain and the storm is nothing but blind white forest, terrible but blind. I have the same feeling when I sit here cozily by my own dear fire and hear it raging all around me and laugh at it. And that is just because over a hundred years ago, great-great-grandfather Murray built this house and built it well. I wonder if 100 years from now anybody will win a victory over anything because of something I left or did. It is an inspiring thought. I drew that line of italics before I thought.

Starting point is 00:03:53 Mr. Carpenter says I use far too many italics. He says it is an early Victorian obsession, and I must strive to cast it off. I concluded I would, when I looked in the dictionary, for it is evidently not a nice thing to be obsessed, though it doesn't seem quite so bad as to be possessed. There I go again. But I think the italics are all right this time. I read the dictionary for a whole hour,

Starting point is 00:04:14 till Aunt Elizabeth got suspicious and suggested it would be much better for me be knitting my rib stockings. She couldn't see exactly why it was wrong for me to be pouring over the dictionary, but she felt sure it must be because she never wants to do it. I love reading the dictionary. Yes, those italics are necessary, Mr. Carpenter. An ordinary love wouldn't express my feeling at all. Words are such fascinating things. I caught myself at the first syllable that time. The very sound of some of them, haunted mystic, for example, gives me the flash. Oh dear, but I have to italicize the flash. It is an or something. It's the most extraordinary and wonderful thing in my whole life.

Starting point is 00:04:51 When it comes, I feel as if a door had swung open and a wall before me and giving me a glimpse of, yes, of heaven. More italics. Oh, I see why Mr. Carpenter scolds. I must break myself of the habit. Big words are never beautiful, incriminating, obstreperous, international, unconstitutional. They make me think of those horrible big dahlias and chrysanthemums. Cousin' Jimmy took me to see at the exhibition in Charlottetown last fall. We couldn't see anything lovely in them, though some people thought them wonderful.

Starting point is 00:05:22 Cousin Jimmy's little yellow mums, like pale, fairy-like stars shining in the fur cops in the northwest corner of the garden, were ten times more beautiful. But I am wandering from my subject, also a bad habit of mine, according to Mr. Carpenter. He says, I must, the italics are his this time, learned to concentrate, another big word, and a very ugly one. But I had a good time over that dictionary, much better than I had over the rib stockings. I wish I could have a pair, just one pair, of silk stockings. Ilse has three. Her father gives her everything she wants now that he has learned to love her, but Aunt Elizabeth says silk stockings are immoral.

Starting point is 00:05:57 I wonder why, any more than silk dresses. Speaking of silk dresses, Aunt Janie Milburn at Derry Pond, she isn't any relation really, but everybody calls her that, has made a vow that she will never wear a silk dress until the whole heathen world is converted to Christianity. That is very fine. I wish I could be as good as that, but I couldn't. I love silk too much.

Starting point is 00:06:16 It is so rich and sheenie. I would like to dress in it all the time, and if I could afford to, I would. Though I suppose every time I thought of dear old Aunt Janie and the unconverted heathen, I would feel conscious-stricken. However, it will be years, if ever, before I can afford to buy even one silk dress. And meanwhile, I give some of my egg money every month's submissions. I have five hens of my own now. All descended from the gray pullet Perry gave me on my twelfth birthday.

Starting point is 00:06:40 If ever I can buy that one silk dress, I know what is going to be like, not black or brown or navy blue sensible serviceable colours such as new moon murray's always wear oh dear no it is to be of shot silk blue in one light silver and others like a twilight sky glimpsed through a frosted window-pane with a bit of lace from here and there in those little feathers of snow clinging to my window-pane teddy says he'll paint me in it and call it the ice maiden and aunt laura smiles and says sweetly and condescendingly in a way i hate even a dear aunt laura what use would such a dress be to you emily it mightn't be of any but I would feel in it as if it were part of me, that it grew on me, and it wasn't just bought and putt on. I want one dress like that in my lifetime, and a silk petticoat underneath it and silk stockings. Ilse has a silk dress now, a bright pink one. Aunt Elizabeth says Dr. Burnley dresses Ilse far too old and rich for a child, but he wants to make up for all the years he didn't dress her at all. I don't mean she went naked, but she might have as far as Dr. Burnley was concerned.

Starting point is 00:07:37 Other people had to see to her clothes. He does everything she wants him to now and gives her her own way and everything. Aunt Elizabeth says it is very bad for her, but there are times when I envy Ilse a little. I know it is wicked, but I cannot help it. Dr. Burnley is going to send Ilst Shrewsbury High School next fall, and after that to Montreal to study elocution. That is why I envy her, not because of the silk dress. I wish Aunt Elizabeth would let me go to Shrewsbury, but I fear she never will. She feels she can't trust me out of her sight because my mother eloped. But she need not be afraid I will ever elope. I have made up my mind that I will never marry. I shall be wedded to my art. Teddy wants to go to Shrewsbury next fall, but his mother won't let him go

Starting point is 00:08:15 either. Not that she's afraid of his eloping, but because she loves him so much she can't part with him. Teddy wants to be an artist, and Mr. Carpenter says he has genius and should have his chance, but everybody's afraid to say anything to Mrs. Kent. She is a little bit of a woman, no taller than I am, really, quiet and shy, and yet everyone is afraid of her. I am, dreadfully afraid. I've always known she didn't like me. Ever since those days long ago, when Ilsa and I first ones up to the Tansy patch to play with Teddy. But now she hates me. I feel sure of it, just because Teddy likes me. She can't bear to have him like anybody or anything but her. She's even jealous of his pictures. So there's not much chance of his getting to Shrewsbury.

Starting point is 00:08:54 Percy is going. He has a descent, but he's going to work his way through. That is why he thinks he will go to Shrewsbury in place of Queen's Academy. He thinks it'll be easier to get work to do in Shrewsbury and board is cheaper there. My old beast of an Aunt Tom has a little money, he told me, but she won't give me any of it unless, unless, then he looked at me significantly. I blushed because I couldn't help it, and then I was furious with myself for blushing and with Perry, because he referred to something I didn't want to hear about. That time ever so long ago when his Aunt Tom met me in Lofty John's Bush and nearly frightened me to death by demanding that I promised to marry Perry when we grew up, in which case she would educate him.

Starting point is 00:09:31 I never told anybody about it being ashamed, except else, and she said, the idea of old Aunt Tom aspiring to a Murray for Perry. But then, Ilse is awfully hard on Perry and quarrels with him half the time over things I only smile at. Perry never likes to be outdone by anyone and anything. When we were at Amy Moore's party last week, her uncle told us a story of some remarkable freak calf he had seen, with three legs, and Perry said,

Starting point is 00:09:56 oh, that's nothing to a duck I saw once in Norway. Perry really was in Norway. He used to sail everywhere with his father when he was little, but I don't believe one word about that duck. he wasn't lying he was just romancing dear mr carpenter i can't get along without italics parry's duck had four legs according to him two where a proper duck should be and two sprouting from his back when he got tired of walking on its ordinary pair it flapped over on its back and walked on the other pair Perry told this yarn with a sober face and everybody laughed and Amy's uncle said, Go up head, Perry. But I was furious and wouldn't speak to him all the way home.

Starting point is 00:10:32 She said he had to make a fool of himself, trying to show off with a silly story like that, and no gentleman would act so. Perry said, I'm no gentleman yet, only a hired boy, but someday Miss Ill's, I'll be a finer gentleman than anyone you know. Gentlemen, said Ilse in a nasty voice, have to be born. They can't be made, you know. Ilse has almost given up calling names, as she used to do when she quarreled with Perry or me, and has taken to saying cruel-cutting things.

Starting point is 00:10:59 They hurt far worse than the names used to, but I don't really mind them, much, or long, because I know Ilse didn't mean them and really loves me as much as I love her. But Perry says they stick in his crop, they didn't speak to each other the rest of the way home. But the next day, Ilse was at him again about using bad grammar and not standing up when a lady enters the room. Of course you couldn't be expected to know that, she said, in her nastiest voice. but I'm sure Mr. Carpenter has done his best to teach you grammar. Perry didn't say one word to else, but he turned to me. Will you tell me my faults?

Starting point is 00:11:28 He said, I don't mind you doing it. It will be you that will have to put up with me when we're grown up, not Ilse. He said that to make Ilsa angry, but it made me angrier still, for it was an allusion to a forbidden topic. So neither of us spoke to him for two days, and he said it was a good rest from Ilsa's slams anyway. Perry is not the only one who gets into disgrace that new moon. I said something silly yesterday evening which makes me blush to recall it.

Starting point is 00:11:53 The lady's aide met here and Aunt Elizabeth gave them a supper, and the husbands of the aide came to it. Ilse and I waited on the table, which was set in the kitchen, because the dining room table wasn't long enough. It was exciting at first, and then when everyone was served, it was a little dull, and I began to compose some poetry in my mind that stood by the window looking out on the garden. It was so interesting I soon forgot everything else until suddenly I heard Aunt Elizabeth say, Emily, very sharply, and then she looked significantly Mr. Johnson, our new minister. I was confused, and I snatched up the teapot and exclaimed, Oh, Mr. Cupp, will you have your Johnson filled? Everybody roared, and Aunt Elizabeth looked disgusted, and Aunt Laura ashamed,

Starting point is 00:12:29 and I felt as if I would sink through the floor. I couldn't sleep half the night for thinking of it. The strange thing was, I do believe I felt worse and more ashamed than I would have felt if I done something really wrong. This is the Murray pride, of course, and I suppose it is very wicked. Sometimes I'm afraid Aunt Ruth Dutton is right in her opinion of me after all. No, she isn't. but it is a tradition of new moon that its women should be equal to any situation and always be graceful and dignified.

Starting point is 00:12:54 Now there was nothing graceful or dignified in asking such a question of the new minister. I am sure he will never see me again without thinking of it, and I will always writhe when I catch his eye upon me. But now that I have written it out in my diary, I don't feel so badly over it. Nothing ever seems as big or as terrible. Oh, nor is beautiful and grand either, alas, when it is written out, as it does when you are thinking or feeling about it. It seemed to shrink directly you put it into words. Even the line of poetry I had made just before I asked that absurd question won't seem half as fine when I write it down.

Starting point is 00:13:25 Where the velvet feet of darkness softly go. It doesn't. Some bloom seems gone from it. And yet while I was standing there behind all those chattering, eating people, and saw darkness stealing so softly over the garden and hills, like a beautiful woman robed in shadows with stars for eyes, the flash came. And I forgot everything, but that I wanted to be.

Starting point is 00:13:45 to put some of the beauty I felt into the words of my poem. When that line came into my mind, it didn't seem to me as if I composed it at all. It seemed as if something else were trying to speak through me. And it was that something else that made the lime seem wonderful. And now when it is gone, the words seem flat and foolish in the picture I tried to draw on them not so wonderful at all. Oh, if only I could put things into words as I see them. Mr. Carpenter says, strive, strive, keep on. Words are your medium. Make them your slaves, until they will say for you what you want them to say. That is true, and I do try, but it seems to me there is something beyond words, any words, all words, something that always escapes you when you try to grasp it, and yet leave

Starting point is 00:14:25 something in your hand which you wouldn't have had if you hadn't reached for it. I remember one day last fall when Dean and I walked over the delectable mountain to the woods beyond it, for woods mostly, but with one corner of splendid old pines, we sat under them and then read Peverell of the Peak and some of Scott's poems to me, and then he looked up into the big plummy bows and said, The gods are talking in the pines, gods of the old Northland of the Viking sagas, Star, do you know Emerson's lines?

Starting point is 00:14:52 And then he quoted them, I've remembered them and loved them ever since. The gods talk in the breath of the wild, they talk in the shaken pine, and they fill the reach of the old seashore with dialogue divine, and the poet who overhears one random word they say, is the faded man of men whom the ages must obey.

Starting point is 00:15:10 Oh, that random word, it is the something that escapes me, I'm always listening for it. I know I can never hear it. My ear isn't attuned to it. But I am sure I hear at times a little faint, far-off echo of it, and it makes me feel a delight that is like pain, and a despair of ever being able to translate its beauty into any words I know.

Starting point is 00:15:28 Still, it is a pity I made such a goose of myself immediately after that wonderful experience. If I had just floated up behind Mr. Johnson as velvet-footedly as darkness herself, and poured his tea gracefully from great-grandmother Murray's silver teapot like my shadow woman pouring night into the white cup of Blair Valley. Aunt Elizabeth would be far more pleased with me than if I could write the most wonderful poem in the world. Cousin Jimmy is so different.

Starting point is 00:15:52 I recited my poem to him this evening after we'd finished with the catalog, and he thought it was beautiful. He couldn't know how far it fell short of what I'd seen in my mind. Cousin Jimmy composes poetry himself. He's very clever in spots, and in other spots where his brain was hurt when Aunt Elizabeth pushed him into our new moon well. He isn't anything. There's just blankness there. So people call him simple, and Aunt Ruth dares to say he has enough sense to shoe a cat from cream.

Starting point is 00:16:16 And yet, if you put all his clever spots together, there isn't anybody in Blair Water, has half as much real cleverness as he has, not even Mr. Carpenter. The trouble is you can't put his clever spots together. There are always those gaps between. But I love cousin Jimmy, and I'm never in the least afraid of him when his queer spells come on him. Everybody else says, even Aunt Elizabeth, though perhaps it is remorse with her instead of fear. Except Perry. Perry always brags that he's never afraid of anything.

Starting point is 00:16:42 Doesn't know what fear is. I think that is very wonderful. I wish I could be so fearless. Mr. Carpenter says fear is a vile thing, and it is at the bottom of almost every wrong and hatred of the world. Cast it out, Jade, he says. Cast it out of your heart. Fear is a confession of weakness.

Starting point is 00:16:57 What you fear is stronger than you, or you think it is, else you wouldn't be afraid of it. Remember your Emerson. Always do what you are afraid to do. But that is a counsel of perfection, as Dean says, and I don't believe I'll ever be able to attain to it. To be honest, I'm afraid of a good many things, but there are only two people in the world I'm truly afraid of.

Starting point is 00:17:15 One is Mrs. Kent, and the other is mad Mr. Morrison. I'm terribly afraid of him, and I think almost everyone is. His home is in Derry Pond, but he hardly ever stays there. He roams over the country looking for his lost bride. He was married only a few weeks when his young wife died many years ago, and he has never been in his right mind since. He insists she is not dead, only lost, and that he will find her sometime. He has grown old and bent looking for her, but to him she is still young and fair.

Starting point is 00:17:40 He was here one day last summer, but would not come in, just peered into the kitchen, wistfully, and said, Is Annie here? He was quite gentle that day, but sometimes he's very wild and violent. He declares he always hears Annie calling to him, that her voice flits on before him, always before him, like my random word. His face is wrinkled and shriveled, and he looks like an old old monkey. But the thing I hate most about him is his right hand. It is a deep, blood-red all of the word.

Starting point is 00:18:05 over, birthmarked. I can't tell why, but that hand fills me with horror. I could not bear to touch it, and sometimes he laughed himself very horribly. The only thing he seems to care for is his old black dog that is always with him. They say he will never ask for a bite of food for himself, and if people do not offer it to him, he goes hungry, but he will beg for his dog. Oh, I am terribly afraid of him, and I was so glad he didn't come into the house that day. And Elizabeth looked after him as he went away with his long gray hair streaming in the wind and said, Fairfax Morrison was once a fine, clever young man with excellent prospects. Well, God's ways are very mysterious. That is why they are interesting, I said. But Aunt Elizabeth frowned and told me not to be a reverent, as she always does

Starting point is 00:18:48 when I say anything about God. I wonder why. She won't let Perry and me talk about him either, though Perry is really very much interested in him and wants to find all about him. Aunt Elizabeth overheard me telling Perry one Sunday afternoon what I thought God was like, and she said it was scandalous. It wasn't. The trouble is Aunt Elizabeth and I have different gods. That is all. Everybody has a different God, I think. Aunt Ruth's, for instance, is one that punishes her enemies, sends judgments on them. That seems to me to be about all the use he really is to her. Jim Cosgrain uses his to swear by, but Aunt Janie Milburn walks in the light of her God's countenance every day and shines with it. I have written myself out for tonight and I'm going to bed.

Starting point is 00:19:27 I know I have wasted words in this diary, another of my literary faults, according to Mr. Carpenter. You waste words, Jade, you spill them about too lavishly. Economy and restraint, that's what you need. He's right, of course, and in my essays and stories, I try to practice what he preaches, but in my diary, which no one sees but myself, where we'll ever see until after I'm dead, I like just to let myself go. Emily looked at her candle. It, too, was almost burnt out. She knew she could not have another that night, and Elizabeth's rules were as those of meat and Persian.

Starting point is 00:19:57 She put away her diary in the little right-hand cupboard above the mantle, covered her dying fire, undressed, and blew out her candle. The room slowly filled with the faint ghostly snowlight of a night when the full moon is behind the driving storm clouds, and just as Emily was ready to slip into her high black bedstead, a sudden inspiration came, a splendid new idea for a story. For a moment she shivered reluctantly. The room was getting cold, but the idea would not be denied. Emily slipped her hand between the feathered tick of her bed and the chivaled.

Starting point is 00:20:27 mattress and produced a half-burned candle, secreted there for just such an emergency. It was not, of course, a proper thing to do, but then I have never pretended, or ever will pretend, that Emily was a proper child. Books are not written about proper children. They would be so dull, nobody would read them. She lighted her candle, put on her stockings in a heavy coat, got out another half-filled Jimmy book, and began to write by the single uncertain candle which made a pale oasis of light in the shadows of the room. In that oasis, Emily wrote, her black head bent over her book as the hours of night crept away, and the other occupants of New Moon slumbered soundly.

Starting point is 00:21:02 She grew chill and cramped, but she was quite unconscious of it. Her eyes burned, her cheeks glowed. Words came like troops of obedient genie to the call of her pen. When at last her candle went out with a sputter and a hiss in its little pull of met to the towel. She came back to reality with a sign and a shiver. It was two by the clock, and she was very tired and very cold. But she had finished her story, and it was the best she had ever written. She crept into her cold nest with a sense of completion and victory,

Starting point is 00:21:28 born out of the working out of her creative impulse and fell asleep to the lullaby of the waning storm. End of Chapter 1, recording by Ade de Pignirolles. Chapter 2 of Emily Climes. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery, Chapter 2. Emily's diary, with all its youthful crudities and italics,

Starting point is 00:22:11 really gives a better interpretation of her and her imaginative and introspective mind in that her 14th spring than any biographer, however sympathetic, could do. So let us take another peep into the yellowed pages of that old Jimmy book written long ago in The Lookout of New Moon. February 15. 19. I have decided that I will write down in this journal every day all my good deeds and all my bad ones. I got the idea out of a book, and it appeals to me. I mean to be as honest about it as I can. It will be easy, of course, to write down the good deeds, but not so easy to record the bad ones. I did only one bad thing today. Only one thing I think bad, that is.

Starting point is 00:22:57 I was impertinent to Aunt Elizabeth. She thought I took too long washing the dishes. I didn't suppose there was any hurry, and I was composing a story called The Secret of the Mill. Aunt Elizabeth looked at me, and then at the clock, and said in her most disagreeable way, Is the snail your sister, Emily? No. Snails are no relation to me, I said haughtily. It was not what I said, but the way I said it that was impertinent.

Starting point is 00:23:24 And I meant it to be. I was very angry. Sarcastic speeches always aggravate me. Afterwards, I was very sorry that I had been in a temper, but I was sorry because it was foolish and undignified, not because it was wicked. So I suppose that was not true repentance. As for my good deeds, I did two today. I saved two little lives. Sassy Sal had caught a poor snowbird, and I took it from her.

Starting point is 00:23:49 It flew off quite briskly, and I am sure it felt wonderfully happy. Later on, I went down to the cellar cupboard and found a mouse caught in a trap by its foot. The poor thing lay there, almost exhausted from struggling, with such a look in its black eyes. I couldn't endure it so I set it free, and it managed to get away quite smartly in spite of its foot. I do not feel sure about this deed. I know it was a good one from the mouse's point of view, but what about Aunt Elizabeth's? This evening, Aunt Laura and Aunt Elizabeth read and burned a box full of old letters. They read them aloud and commented on them, while I sat in a corner and knitted my stockings.

Starting point is 00:24:28 The letters were very interesting, and I learned a great deal about the Murray's I had never known before. I feel that it is quite wonderful to belong to a family like this. No wonder the Blair Water folks call us the chosen people, though they don't mean it as a compliment. I feel that I must live up to the traditions of my family. I had a long letter from Dean Priest today. He is spending the winter in Algiers. He says he is coming home in April and is going to take rooms with his sister, Mrs. Fred Evans, for the summer. I am so glad. It will be splendid to have him in Blair Water all summer. Nobody ever talks to me as Dean does.

Starting point is 00:25:06 He is the nicest and most interesting old person I know. Aunt Elizabeth says he is selfish, as all the priests are. But then she does not like the priest, and she always calls him Jarback, which somehow sets my teeth on edge. One of Dean's shoulders is a little higher than the other, but that's not his fault. I told Aunt Elizabeth once that I wish she would not call my friend that, but she only said, I did not nickname your friend, Emily. His only clan have always called him jarback. The priests are not noted for delicacy. Teddy had a letter from Dean, too, and a book, The Lives of Great Artist. Michael Angelo, Raphael, Velasquez, Rembrandt, Titian. He says he dare not let his mother see him reading it. she would burn it. I am sure if Teddy could only have his chance, he would be as great an artist as any of them.

Starting point is 00:25:56 February 18, 19. I had a lovely time with myself this evening, after school, walking on the brook road in lofty John's bush. The sun was low and creamy, and the snow so white, and the shadows so slender and blue. I think there is nothing so beautiful as tree shadows. And when I came out into the garden my own shadow looked so funny, so long that it stretched right across the garden. I immediately made a poem of which two lines were, if we were all as tall as our shadows, how tall our shadows would be. I think there's a good deal of philosophy in that. Tonight I wrote a story, and Aunt Elizabeth knew what I was doing and was very much annoyed. She scolded me for wasting time. But it wasn't wasted time. I grew in it. I know I did.

Starting point is 00:26:44 and there was something about some of the sentences I liked. I am afraid of the gray wood. That pleased me very much. And, white and stately, she walked with a dark wood like a moonbeam. I think that is rather fine. Yet Mr. Carpenter tells me that whenever I think a thing especially fine, I am to cut it out. But, oh, I can't cut that out. Not yet, at least.

Starting point is 00:27:10 The strange part is that about three months after Mr. Carpenter tells me, me to cut a thing out, I come round to his point of view and feel ashamed of it. Mr. Carpenter was quite merciless over my essay today. Nothing about it suited him. Three, alasas in one paragraph, Emily. One would have been too many in this year of grace. More irresistible. Emily, for heaven's sake, write English. That is unpardonable. It was, too. I saw it for myself and I felt shame going all over me from head to foot like a red wave. Then, after Mr. Carpenter had blue-penciled almost every sentence, and sneered at all my fine phrases, and found fault with most of my constructions, and told me I was too fond of putting cleverisms into everything I wrote, he flung my exercise

Starting point is 00:28:02 book down, tore at his hair, and said, you write! Jade, get a spoon and learn to cook. Then he strode off muttering maledictions, not loud but deep. I peep. I pay you. I picked up my poor essay and didn't feel very badly. I can cook already, and I have learned a thing or two about Mr. Carpenter. The better my essays are, the more he rages over them. This one must have been quite good, but it makes him so angry and impatient to see where I might have made it still better and didn't, through carelessness or laziness or indifference, as he thinks. And he can't tolerate a person who could do better and doesn't. And he wouldn't bother me with it at all if he didn't think I may amount to something by and by. Aunt Elizabeth does not approve of Mr. Johnson.

Starting point is 00:28:49 She thinks his theology is not sound. He said in his sermon last Sunday that there was some good in Buddhism. He will be saying there is some good in popery next, said Aunt Elizabeth indignantly at the dinner table. There may be some good in Buddhism. I must ask Dean about it when he comes home. March 2.19. We were all at a funeral today. Old Mrs. Sarah Paul. I have always liked going to funerals. When I said that, Aunt Elizabeth looked shocked, and Aunt Laura said, oh, Emily, dear! I rather like to shock Aunt Elizabeth, but I never feel comfortable if I worry Aunt Laura. She's such a darling, so I explained, or tried to. It is sometimes very hard to explain things to Aunt Elizabeth. Funerals are interesting, I said, and humorous,

Starting point is 00:29:39 too. I think I only made matters worse by saying that. And yet, Anne Elizabeth knew as well as I did that it was funny to see some of those relatives of Mrs. Paul, who have fought with and hated her for years, she wasn't amiable if she is dead. Sitting there, holding their handkerchiefs to their faces and pretending to cry, I knew quite well what each and everyone was thinking in his heart. Jake Paul was wondering if the old Harriton had by any chance left him anything in her will, and Alice Paul, who knew she wouldn't get anything, was hoping Jake Paul wouldn't either. That would satisfy her. And Mrs. Charlie Paul was wondering how soon it would be decent to do the house over the way she had always wanted it, and Mrs. Paul hadn't.

Starting point is 00:30:25 And Auntie Min was worrying for fear there wouldn't be enough baked meats for such a mob of fourth cousins that they'd never expected and didn't want, and Lizette Paul was counting the people and feeling vexed because there wasn't as large in attendance as there was, at Mrs. Henry Lister's funeral last week. When I told Aunt Laura this, she said gravely, all this may be true, Emily. She knew it was. But somehow, it doesn't seem quite right for so young a girl as you

Starting point is 00:30:52 to be able to see these things in short. However, I can't help seeing them. Darling Aunt Laura is always so sorry for people that she can't see their humorous side. But I saw other things, too. I saw that little Zach Frizz, whom Mrs. Paul adopted and was very kind to, was almost broken-hearted, and I saw that Martha Paul was feeling sorry and ashamed to think of her bitter old quarrel with Mrs. Paul.

Starting point is 00:31:20 And I saw that Mrs. Paul's face, that looked so discontented and thwarted in life, looked peaceful and majestic and even beautiful, as if death had satisfied her at last. Yes, funerals are interesting. It is snowing a little tonight. I love to see the snow coming down and slanting lines against the dark trees. I think I did a good deed today. Jason Marrowby was here helping cousin Jimmy saw wood, and I saw him sneak into the pig house and take a swig from a whiskey bottle. But I did not say one word about it to anyone. That is my good deed. Perhaps I ought to tell Aunt Elizabeth, but if I did, she would never have him again, and he needs all the work he can get. for his poor wife and children's sake.

Starting point is 00:32:11 I find it is not always easy to be sure whether your deeds are good or bad. March 20, 19. Yesterday, Aunt Elizabeth was very angry because I would not write an obituary poem for old Peter DeGir who died last week. Mrs. DeGier came here and asked me to do it. I wouldn't. I felt very indignant at such a request. I felt it would be a desecration of my art to do such a thing.

Starting point is 00:32:38 though, of course, I didn't say that to Mrs. DeGere. For one thing, it would have hurt her feelings, and for another, she wouldn't have had the faintest idea what I meant. Even Aunt Elizabeth hadn't, when I told her my reasons for refusing, after Mrs. DeGir had gone. You are always writing yards of trash that nobody wants, she said. I think you might write something that is wanted. It would have pleased poor old Mary DeGier.

Starting point is 00:33:03 Desecration of your art, indeed. If you must talk, Emily, why not make sense? I proceeded to talk sense. Aunt Elizabeth, I said seriously. How could I write that obituary poem for her? I couldn't write an untruthful one to please anybody. And you know yourself that nothing good and truthful could be said about old Peter DeGere. Aunt Elizabeth did know it, and it posed her, but she was all the more displeased with me for that.

Starting point is 00:33:33 She vexed me so much that I came up to my room and wrote an obituary poem about Peter just for my own satisfaction. It is certainly great fun to write a truthful obituary of someone you don't like. Not that I disliked Peter DeGere. I just despised him as everybody did. But on Elizabeth had annoyed me, and when I'm annoyed, I can write very sarcastically. And again, I felt that something was writing through me, but a very different something from the usual one, a malicious, mocking something that enjoyed making fun of poor, lazy, shiftless, lying, silly, hypocritical, old Peter DeGere. Ideas, words, rhymes, all seemed to drop into place while that something chuckled. I thought the poem was so clever that I couldn't resist the temptation to take it to school today and show it to Mr. Carpenter.

Starting point is 00:34:23 I thought he would enjoy it, and I think he did too, in a way, but after he had read it, he laid it down and looked at me. I suppose there is a pleasure in satirizing a face. He said. Poor old Peter was a failure, and he is dead. And his maker may be merciful to him, but his fellow creatures will not. When I am dead, Emily, will you write like this about me? You have the power. Oh, yes, it's all here. This is very clever. You can paint the weakness and foolishness and wickedness of a character in a way that is positively uncanny in a girl of your age. But is it worthwhile, Emily? No. No, I said.

Starting point is 00:35:05 I was so ashamed and sorry that I wanted to get away and cry. It was terrible to think Mr. Carpenter imagined I would ever write so about him. After all he has done for me. It isn't, said Mr. Carpenter. There is a place for satire. There are gangrenees that can only be burnt out. But leave the burning to the great geniuses. It's better to heal than hurt.

Starting point is 00:35:26 We failures know that. Oh, Mr. Carpenter, I began. I wanted to say he wasn't a failure. I wanted to say a hundred things, but he wouldn't let me. There, there, we won't talk of it, Emily. When I am dead, say, he was a failure, and none knew it more truly or felt it more bitterly than himself. Be merciful to the failures, Emily. Satterize wickedness, if you must, but pity weakness.

Starting point is 00:35:52 He stalked off then and called school in. I felt wretched ever since, and I won't sleep tonight. But here and now, I record this vow most solemnly in my diary. My pen shall heal, not hurt. And I write it in italics, early Victorian or not, because I am tremendously in earnest. I didn't tear that poem up, though. I couldn't. It really was too good to destroy. I put it away in my literary cupboard to read over once in a while for my own enjoyment,

Starting point is 00:36:24 but I will never show it to anybody. Oh, how I wish I hadn't hurt Mr. Carpenter. April 1.19. Something I heard a visitor in Blair Water say today annoyed me very much. Mr. and Mrs. Alex Sawyer, who live in Charlottetown, were in the post office when I was there. Mrs. Sawyer is very handsome and fashionable and condescending. I heard her say to her husband, How do the natives of this sleepy place continue to live here year in and year out?

Starting point is 00:36:55 I should go mad. Nothing ever happens here. I would dearly have liked to tell her a few things about Blair Walker. water. I could have been sarcastic with a vengeance. But of course, New Moon people do not make scenes in public. So I contented myself with bowing very coldly when she spoke to me and sweeping past her. I heard Mr. Sawyer say, who is that girl? And Mrs. Sawyer said, she must be that star puss. She has the Murray trick of holding her head all right. The idea of saying nothing ever happens here, why things are happening right along thrilling things. I think life here is extremely wonderful. We have always so much

Starting point is 00:37:39 to laugh and cry and talk about. Look at all the things that have happened in Blair Water in just the last three weeks. Comedy and tragedy all mixed up together. James Baxter has suddenly stopped speaking to his wife and nobody knows why. She doesn't, poor soul, and she is breaking her heart about it. Old Adam Gillian, who hated pretense of any sort, died two weeks ago, and his last words were, See that there isn't any howling and sniffling at my funeral. So nobody howled or sniffled. Nobody wanted to, and since he had forbidden it, nobody pretended to. There was never such a cheerful funeral in Blair Water. I've seen weddings that were more melancholy, Ella Bryses, for instance. What cast a cloud over hers was that she forgot to put on her white slippers.

Starting point is 00:38:29 when she dressed, and went down to the parlor in a pair of old faded bedroom shoes with holes in the toes. Really, people couldn't have talked more about it if she had gone down without anything on. Poor Ella cried all through the wedding supper about it. Old Robert Scobie and his half-sister have quarreled, after living together for 30 years without a fuss, although she is said to be a very aggravating woman. Nothing she did or said ever provoked Robert into an outburst, but it seems that there was just one donut left from supper one evening recently, and Robert is very fond of donuts. He put it away in the pantry for a bedtime snack, and when he went to get it, he found that Matilda had eaten it. He went into a terrible rage, pulled her nose, called her a she-deviless,

Starting point is 00:39:14 and ordered her out of his house. She has gone to live with her sister at Derry Pond, and Robert is going to batch it. Neither of them will ever forgive the other, scoby-like, and neither will ever be happy or contented again. George Lake was walking home from Derry Pond one moonlit evening two weeks ago, and all at once he saw another very black shadow going along beside his, on the moonlit snow. And there was nothing to cast that shadow. He rushed to the nearest house, nearly dead with fright, and they say he will never be the same man again. This is the most dramatic thing that has happened. It makes me shiver as I write of it. Of course, George must have been mistaken, but he is a truthful man and he doesn't drink. I don't know what to think of it.

Starting point is 00:40:03 Arminius Scobie is a very mean man and always buys his wife's hats for, lest she pay too much for them. They know this in the Shrewsbury stores and laugh at him. One day last week, he was in Jones and McCollums, buying her hat, and Mr. Jones told him that if he would wear the hat from the store to the station, he would let him have it for nothing. Arminius did. It was a quarter of a mile to the station, and all of the small boys in Shrewsbury ran after him and hooted at him. But Arminius didn't care. He saved $3.49. And one evening, right here at New Moon, I dropped a soft-boiled egg on Aunt Elizabeth's second-best cashmere dress. That was a happening. A kingdom might have been upset in Europe, and it wouldn't have made such a commotion at New Moon. So, Mr. Sawyer, you are very vastly mistaken. Besides, apart from all happenings, the folks here are interesting in themselves. I don't like everyone, but I find everyone interesting. Miss Maddie Small, who is 40 and wears outrageous colors. She wore an old rose dress and a scarlet hat to church all last summer. Uncle Rubin Baskum, who is so lazy that he held an umbrella over himself all one rainy night in bed when the roof began to leak rather than get out and move the bed.

Starting point is 00:41:23 Elder McCloskey, who thought it wouldn't do to say pants in a story he was telling about a missionary at prayer meeting, so always said politely, the clothes of his lower parts. Amasa dairy, who carried off four prizes at the exhibition last fall, with vegetables he stole from Ronnie Baskam's field, while Ronnie didn't get one prize. Jimmy Joe Bell, who came here from Dairy Pond yesterday to get some lumber to build a henhouse for my little dog. old Luke Elliott, who is such a systematic fiend that he even draws up a schedule of the year on New Year's Day and charts down all the days he means to get drunk on and sticks to it. They're all interesting and amusing and delightful.

Starting point is 00:42:08 There, I've proved Mrs. Alex Sawyer to be so completely wrong that I feel quite kindly towards her, even though she did call me a puss. Why don't I like being called a puss when cats are such nice things? and I like being called pussy. April 28, 19. Two weeks ago, I sent my very best poem, Windsong, to a magazine in New York, and today it came back with just a little printed slip saying, we regret we cannot use this contribution.

Starting point is 00:42:40 I feel dreadfully. I suppose I can't really write anything that is any good. I can. That magazine will be glad to print my pieces someday. I didn't tell Mr. Carpenter I sent it. I wouldn't get any sympathy from him. He says that five years from now will be time enough to be getting pestering editors. But I know some poems I've read in that very magazine were not a bit better than Winsong. I feel more like writing poetry in Spring than any other time. Mr. Carpenter tells me to fight against the impulse. He says Spring has been

Starting point is 00:43:14 responsible for more trash than anything else in the universe of God. Mr. Carpenter's way of has a tang to it. May 1.19. Dean is home. He came to his sisters yesterday, and this evening he was here and we walked in the garden, up and down the sundial walk and talked. It was splendid to have him back,

Starting point is 00:43:35 with his mysterious green eyes and his nice mouth. We had a long conversation. We talked of Algiers and the transmigration of souls and of being cremated and of profiles. Dean says I have a good profile. Pure Greek. I always liked Dean's compliments. Star o morning, how you have grown, he said.

Starting point is 00:43:56 I left a child last autumn, and I find a woman. I will be 14 in three weeks, and I am tall for my age. Dean seems quite glad of this. Quite unlike Aunt Laura, who always sighs when she lengthens my dresses and thinks children grow up too fast. So goes time by, I said quoting the motto on the sundial, and feeling quite sophisticated. You are almost as tall as I am, he said.

Starting point is 00:44:20 and then added, bitterly. To be sure, jarback priest is of no very stately height. I have always shrunk from referring to his shoulder in any way, but now I said, Dean, please don't sneer at yourself like that, not with me at least. I never think of you as jarback. Dean took my hand and looked right into my eyes,

Starting point is 00:44:41 as if he were trying to read my very soul. Are you sure of that, Emily? Don't you often wish that I wasn't lame and crooked? for your sake I do, I answered. But as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't make a bit of difference, and never will. And never will, Dean repeated the words emphatically. If I were sure of that, Emily, if I were only sure of that. You can be sure of it, I declared quite warmly.

Starting point is 00:45:07 I was vexed because he seemed to doubt it, and yet something in his expression made me feel a little uncomfortable. It suddenly made me think of the time he rescued me from the cliff on Malvern Bay and told me my life belonged to him since he had saved it. I don't like the thought of my life belonging to anyone but myself. Not anyone, even Dean, much as I like him. And in some ways, I like Dean better than anyone in the world. When it got darker, the stars came out,

Starting point is 00:45:36 and we studied them through Dean's splendid new field glasses. It was very fascinating. Dean knows all about the stars. It seems to me he knows all about everything. But when I said so, he said, there is one secret I do not know. I would give everything else I do know for it. One secret, perhaps I shall never know it. The way to win, the way to win. What? I asked curiously. My heart's desire, said Dean dreamily, looking up at the shimmering star that seemed to be

Starting point is 00:46:09 hung on the very tip of one of the three princesses. It seems now as desirable and unattainable as that gem-like star, Emily, but who knows? I wonder what it is Dean wants so much. May 4.19. Dean brought me a lovely portfolio from Paris, and I have copied my favorite verse from the fringed genitian on the inside of the cover. I will read it over every day and remember my vow to climb the alpine path. I begin to see that I will have to do a good bit of scrambling, though I once expected, I think, to soar right up to that far-off goal on shining wings. Mr. Carpenter has banished that fond dream.

Starting point is 00:46:53 Dig in your toes and hang on with your teeth. That's the only way, he says. Last night in bed, I thought about some lovely titles for the books I'm going to write in the future. A Lady of High Degree. True to Faith and Vow. Oh, rare, pale Margaret. I got that from Tennyson. The cast of Verde Ver, Ver, ditto, and A Kingdom by the Sea. Now, if I could only get ideas to match the titles. I am writing a story called The House Among the Rowans, also a very good title, I think.

Starting point is 00:47:29 But the love talk still bothers me. Everything of the kind I write seems so stiff and silly the minute I write it down that it infuriates me. I asked Dean if he could teach me how to write it properly, because he promised long as he ago that he would, but he said I was too young yet. Said it in that mysterious way of his, which always seems to convey the idea that there is so much more in his words than the mere sound of them expresses. I wish I could speak so significantly, because it makes you very interesting. This evening after school, Dean and I began to read the Alhambra over again, sitting on the stone bench in the garden. That book always makes me feel as if I opened a little door and stepped straight

Starting point is 00:48:11 into a fairyland. How we would love to see Alhambra, I said. We will go and see it sometime, together, said Dean. Oh, that would be lovely, I cried. Do you think we can ever manage it, Dean? Before Dean could answer, I heard Teddy's whistle in Lofty John's Bush, the dear little whistle of two short, high notes and one long, low one. That is our signal. Excuse me, I must go, Teddy's calling me, I said. Must you always go when Teddy calls, asked Dean. He only calls. He only like that when he wants me especially, and I have promised I will always go if I possibly can. I want you especially, said Dean. I came up this evening on purpose to read the Alhambra with you. Suddenly I felt very unhappy. I wanted to stay with Dean dreadfully, and yet I felt as if I must go to

Starting point is 00:48:59 Teddy. Dean looked at me piercingly. Then he shut up the alhambra. Go, he said. I went, but things seem spoiled somehow. May 10. 19. I have been reading three books Dean lent me this week. One was like a rose garden, very pleasant, but just a little too sweet. And one was like a pine wood on a mountain, full of balsam and tang. I loved it, and yet it filled me with a sort of despair. It was written so beautifully. I can never write like that, I feel sure. And one, it was just a pig's die. Dean gave me that one by mistake. He was very angry with himself when he found it out, angry and distressed. Star, Star, I would never have given you a book like that. My confounded carelessness, forgive me. That book is a faithful picture of one world, but not your world, thank God. Nor any world you will ever be a citizen of.

Starting point is 00:49:57 Star promised me you will forget that book. I'll forget it if I can, I said. But I don't know if I can. It was so ugly. I have not been so happy since I read it. I feel as if my hands were soiled somehow, and I couldn't wash them clean. And I have another queer feeling, as if some gate had been shut behind me, shutting me into a new world I don't quite understand or like, but through which I must travel.

Starting point is 00:50:25 Tonight I tried to write a description of Dean in my Jimmy book of character sketches, but I didn't succeed. What I wrote seemed like a photograph, not a portrait. There is something in Dean that is beyond me. Dean took a picture of me the other day with his new camera, but he wasn't pleased with it. It doesn't look like you, he said. But of course one could never photograph starlight. Then he added quite sharply, I thought. Tell that young imp of a Teddy Kent to keep your face out of his pictures.

Starting point is 00:50:54 He has no business to put you and everyone he draws. He doesn't, I cried. Why Teddy never made but the one picture of me, the one Aunt Nancy stole. I said it quite viciously and unashamed. for I've never forgiven Aunt Nancy for keeping that picture. He's got something of you in every picture, said Dean stubbornly. Your eyes, the curve of your neck, the tilt of your head, your personality. That's the worst.

Starting point is 00:51:20 I don't mind your eyes and curve so much, but I won't have the cub putting a bit of your soul into everything he draws. Probably he doesn't know he's doing it, which makes it all the worse. I don't understand you, I said, quite haughtily. But Teddy is wonderful. Mr. Carpenter says so. And Emily of New Moon echoes it. Oh, the kid has talent.

Starting point is 00:51:42 He'll do something someday if his morbid mother doesn't ruin his life. But let him keep his pencil and brush off my property. Dean laughed as he said it, but I held my head high. I am not anybody's property, not even in fun. And I never will be. May 12, 19. Aunt Ruth and Uncle Wallace and Uncle Oliver were all here this afternoon. I like Uncle Oliver, but I am not much fonder of Aunt Ruth and Uncle Wallace than I ever was.

Starting point is 00:52:13 They held some kind of family conclave in the parlor with Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Laura. Cousin Jimmy was allowed in, but I was excluded, although I feel perfectly certain it had something to do with me. I think Aunt Ruth didn't get her own way either, for she snubbed me continually all through supper and said I was growing weedy. Aunt Ruth generally snubs me, and Uncle Wallace patronizes me. I prefer Aunt Ruth's snubs because I don't have to look as if I liked them. I endured them to a certain point, and then the lid flew off. Aunt Ruth said to me, Emily, don't contradict, just as she might have spoken to a mere child.

Starting point is 00:52:53 I looked her right in the eyes and said coldly, Aunt Ruth, I think I am too old to be spoken to in that fashion now. You are not too old to be very rude and impertinent, said Aunt Ruth with a sniff, and if I were in Elizabeth's place, I would give you a sound box on the ear, Miss. I hate to be em-lead and missed and sniffed at. It seems to me that Aunt Ruth has all the Murray faults and none of their virtues. Uncle Oliver's son Andrew came with him and is going to stay for a week. He is four years older than I am.

Starting point is 00:53:26 May 19. This is my birthday. I am 14 years old today. I wrote a letter from myself at 14. to myself at 24, sealed it up, and put it away in my cupboard to be opened on my 24th birthday. I made some predictions in it. I wonder if they will have come to pass when I open it. Aunt Elizabeth gave me back all Father's books today. I was so glad. It seems to me that a part of father is in those books. His name is in each one in his own handwriting and the notes he made on

Starting point is 00:53:58 the margins. They seem like little bits of letters from him. I have been looking over them all evening, and father seemed so near to me again, and I feel both happy and sad. One thing spoiled the day for me. In school, when I went up to the blackboard to work on a problem, everybody suddenly began to titter. I could not imagine why. Then I discovered that someone had pinned a sheet of fool's cap on my back, on which was printed in big black letters, Emily Bird's Star, authoress of the four-legged duck. They laughed more than ever when I snatched it up. I was snatched it off and threw it in the coal scuttle. It infuriates me when anyone ridicules my ambitions like that. I came home angry and sore. But when I had sat on the steps of the summer

Starting point is 00:54:45 house and looked at one of Cousin Jimmy's big purple pansies for five minutes, all my anger went away. Nobody can keep on being angry if she looks into the heart of a pansy for a little while. Besides, the time will come when they will not laugh at me. Andrew went home yesterday. Aunt Elizabeth asked me how I like me. him. She never asked me how I liked anyone before. My likes were not important enough. I suppose she is beginning to realize that I am no longer a child. I said I thought he was good and kind and stupid and uninteresting. Aunt Elizabeth was so annoyed she could not speak to me the whole evening. Why? I had to tell the truth. And Andrew is. May 21. 19. Old Kelly was here today for the first time

Starting point is 00:55:34 this spring, with a load of shining new tins. He brought me a bag of candies, as usual, and teased me about getting married, also as usual. But he seemed to have something on his mind, and when I went to the dairy to get him the drink of milk he asked for, he followed me. Girl dear, he said mysteriously. I met Jarback priced in the lane. Does he be coming here much? I cocked my head at the Murray angle. If you mean Mr. Dean Priest, I said, he comes often, He is a particular friend of mine. Old Kelly shook his head. Girl dear, I warned you.

Starting point is 00:56:11 Never be saying I didn't warn you. I told you the day I took ye to Prace Pond, never to marry a priest, didn't I now? Mr. Kelly, you're too ridiculous, I said. Angry and yet feeling it was absurd to be angry with old Jock Kelly. I'm not going to marry anybody. Mr. Priest is old enough to be my father, and I am just a little girl he helps in her studies. Old Kelly gave his hat another shake. I know the price, girl, dear.

Starting point is 00:56:39 And when they do be set in their minds on a thing, you might as well try to turn the wind. This jar back now, they tell me he's had his eye on ye ever since he fished ye up from the Malvern rocks. He's just buying his time till ye get old enough for courting. They tell me he's an infidel, and it's well known that when he was being christened,

Starting point is 00:56:59 he rached up and clawed the spectacles off out of the panister. So what would you expect? I naten't been telling you he's lame and crooked. You can see that for yourself. Take foolish old Kelly's advice and cut loose while there's time. Now don't be looking at me like the Murray's girl, dear. Sure, and it's for your own good I do be spanking. I walked off and left him.

Starting point is 00:57:22 One couldn't argue with him over such a thing. I wish people wouldn't put such ideas into my mind. They stick there like burrs. I won't feel as comfortable with Dean for weeks. now, though I know perfectly well every word old Kelly said was nonsense. After Old Kelly went away, I came up to my room and wrote a full description of him in a Jimmy book. Ilsa has got a new hat trimmed with clouds of blue tulle and red cherries with big blue tool bows under her chin. I did not like it, and told her so. She was furious and said I was jealous and hasn't spoken to me for two days. I thought

Starting point is 00:57:56 it was all over. I knew I was not jealous, but I concluded that I had made a mistake. I was never again tell anyone a thing like that. It was true, but it was not tactful. I hope Ilsa will have forgiven me by tomorrow. I miss her horribly when she is offended with me. She is such a dear thing and so jolly and splendid when she isn't vexed. Teddy is a little squiffy with me too just now. I think it is because Jeff North walked me home from the prayer meeting last Wednesday night. I hope that is the reason. I like to feel that I have that much power over Teddy. I wonder if I ought to have written that down. But it's true. If Teddy only knew it, I would have been very unhappy and ashamed over that affair. At first, when Jeff singled me out from all the other girls,

Starting point is 00:58:42 I was quite proud of it. It was the very first time I had had an escort home, and Jeff is a townboy, very handsome and polished, and all the older girls in Blair Water are quite foolish about him. So I sailed away from the church door with him, feeling as if I had grown up all at once. but we hadn't gone far before I was hating him. He was so condescending. He seemed to think that I was a simple little country girl who must be quite overwhelmed with the honor of his company. And that was true at first.

Starting point is 00:59:13 That was what stung me. To think I had been such a little fool. He kept saying, Really, you surprise me. In an affected, drawling kind of way, whenever I made a remark. And he bored me. He couldn't talk sense about.

Starting point is 00:59:28 about anything, or else he wouldn't try to with me. I was quite savage by the time we got to New Moon, and then that insufferable creature asked me to kiss him. I drew myself up. Oh, I was Murray clear through at that moment, all right. I felt I was looking exactly like Aunt Elizabeth. I do not kiss young men, I said disdainfully. Jeff laughed and caught my hand. Why, you little goose, what do you suppose I came home with you for, he said. I pulled my hand. I pulled my hand, away from him and walked into the house. But before I did that, I did something else. I slapped his face.

Starting point is 01:00:06 Then I came up to my room and cried with shame over being insulted and having been so undignified in resenting it. Dignity is the tradition of New Moon, and I felt that I had been false to it. But I think I surprised Jeff North in right good earnest. May 2419. Jenny Strang told me today that Jeff North told her brother that I was a regular spitfire, and he had had enough of me.

Starting point is 01:00:31 Aunt Elizabeth has found out that Jeff came home with me and told me today that I would not be trusted to go alone to the prayer meeting again. May 25, 19. I am sitting here in my room at twilight. The window is open and the frogs are singing of something that happened very long ago. All along the middle garden walk, the gay folk are holding up great fluted cups of ruby and gold and pearl. It is not raining now, but it rained all day. A rain scented with lilacs.

Starting point is 01:01:03 I like all kinds of weather, and I like rainy days. Soft, misty, rainy days when the wind woman just shakes the tops of the spruces gently, and wild, tempestuous, steaming rainy days. I like being shut in by the rain. I like to hear it thudding on the roof and beating on the panes and pouring off the eaves, while the wind woman scurls like a mad old witch in the woods and through the garden. Still, if it rains when I want to go anywhere, I growl as much as anybody. An evening like this always makes me think of the spring father died, three years ago, and that dear little old house down at Maywood.

Starting point is 01:01:40 I've never been back since. I wonder if anyone is living in it now, and if Adam and Eve and the rooster pine and the praying tree are just the same. And who is sleeping in my old room there? And if anyone is loving the little birches and playing with the wind woman and the spruce barrens? Just as I wrote the words spruce barons, an old memory came back to me. One spring evening when I was eight years old, I was running about the barons playing hide-and-seek with the wind woman, and I found a little hollow between two spruces that was just carpeted with tiny bright green leaves, when everything else was still brown and faded. They were so beautiful that the flash came as I looked at them. It was the very first time it had ever come to me.

Starting point is 01:02:23 I suppose that is why I remember those little green leaves, distinctly. No one else remembers them. Perhaps no one else ever saw them. I have forgotten other leaves, but I remember them every spring, and with each remembrance I feel again the wonder moment they gave me. End of Chapter 2. Chapter 3 of Emily Climes by Lucy Maude Montgomery. This is a Libervox recording. All Libervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Liberbox.org. Chapter 3 in The Watches of the Night. of us can recall the exact time in which we reached certain milestones on life's road, the wonderful hour when we passed from childhood to girlhood, the enchanted beautiful, or perhaps the shattering

Starting point is 01:03:15 and horrible hour when girlhood was suddenly womanhood, the chilling hour when we faced the fact that youth was definitely behind us, the pierced full sorrowful hour of the realization of age. Emily Starr never forgot the night when she passed the first milestone and left childhood behind her forever. Every experience enriches life and the deeper such an experience, the greater the richness it brings. That night of horror and mystery and strange delight ripened her mind and heart like the passage of years. It was a night early in July. The day had been one of intense heat. Aunt Elizabeth had suffered so much from it that she decided she would not go to prayer meeting. Aunt Laura and cousin Jimmy and Emily went. Before leaving, Emily asked and obtained Aunt Elizabeth's

Starting point is 01:03:58 permission to go home with Ilsa Burney after meeting. and spend the night. This was a rare dream, and Elizabeth did not approve of all night absences as a general thing. But Dr. Burnley had to be away, and his housekeeper was temporarily laid up with a broken ankle. Ilsa had asked Emily to come over for the night, and Emily was to be permitted to go. Ilsa did not know this, hardly hoped for it, in fact, but was to be informed at prayer meeting. If Ilsa had not been late, Emily would have told her before meeting went in, and the mischances of the night would probably have been a perverted, But Ilsa, as usual, was late, and everything else followed in course. Emily sat in the Murray pew, near the top of the church by the window that looked out into the grove of fir and maple that surrounded the little white church.

Starting point is 01:04:43 This prayer meeting was not the ordinary weekly sprinkling of a faithful view. It was a special meeting held in view of the approaching Communion Sunday, and the speaker was not young earnest Mr. Johnson, to whom Emily always liked to listen, in spite of her blunder at the Lady's Aid Supper, but an itinerant evangelist lent by shrewd. for one night. His fame brought out a church full of people, but most of the audience declared afterwards that they would much rather have heard their own, Mr. Johnson. Emily looked at him with her level critical gaze and decided he was oily and unspiritual. She heard him through a prayer and thought, giving God advice and abusing the devil isn't praying. She listened to his discourse for a few minutes and made up her mind that he was blatant and illogical and sensational, and then proceeded coolly to shut mind and ears to him and disappear into Dreamland.

Starting point is 01:05:31 something which he could generally do at will when anxious to escape from discordant realities. Outside, moonlight was still sifting in a rain of silver through the furs and maples, through an ominous bank of cloud, was making up in the northwest, and repeated rumblings of thunder came on the silent air of the hot summer night, a windless night for the most part, though occasionally a sudden breath that seemed more like a sigh than a breeze brushed through the trees and set their shadows dancing in weird companies. There was something strange about the night in its mingling of placid accustomed beauty with the omens of rising storm that intrigued Emily, and she spent half the time of the evangelist's address in composing a mental description of it for her Jimmy book. The rest of the time, she studied such of the audience as were within her range of vision.

Starting point is 01:06:16 This was something that Emily never wearied of, in public assemblages, and the order she grew, the more she liked it. It was fascinating to study those varied faces and speculate on the histories written in mysterious high school. hieroglyphics over them. They had all their inner secret lives, these men and women, known to no one but themselves and God. Others could only guess at them, and Emily loved this game of guessing. At times, it seemed veritably to her that it was more than guessing, that in some intense moments she could pass into their souls and read their hidden motives and passions that were, perhaps, a mystery even to their possessors. It was never easy for Emily to resist the temptation to do this when the power came, although she never yielded to it without an uneasy feeling. that she was committing trespass. It was quite a different thing from soaring on the winds of fancy into an ideal world of creation, quite different from the exquisite unearthly beauty of The Flash, neither of these gave her any moments of pause or doubt.

Starting point is 01:07:11 But to slip on tiptoe through some momentarily unlatched door, as it were, and catch a glimpse of mast, unuttered, unutterable things in the hearts and souls of others, was something that always brought, along with its sense of power, a sense of the forbidden, a sense even of sacrilege. yet Emily did not know if she would ever be able to resist the allure of it. She had always peered through the door and seen the things before she realized that she was doing it.

Starting point is 01:07:35 They were nearly always terrible things. Secrets are generally terrible. Beauty is not often hidden, only ugliness and deformity. Elder Forsyth would have been a persecutor in old times, she thought, he has the face of one. This very minute he is loving the preacher because he is describing hell, and Elder Forces thinks all his enemies will go there. Yes, that is why he is looking pleased. I think Mrs. Bowes flies off on a broomstick of nights.

Starting point is 01:08:01 She looks it. Four hundred years ago, she would have been a witch. An elder Forsyth would have burned her at the stake. She hates everybody. It must be terrible to hate everybody. To have your soul full of hatred, I must try to describe such a person in my Jimmy book. I wonder if hate has driven all about her soul, or if there is a little bit left in it for anyone or anything.

Starting point is 01:08:19 If there is, it might save her. That would be a good idea for a story. I must jot it down before I go to bed. I'll borrow a bit of paper from me. Milsa. No, here's a bit in my hymn book. I'll write it now. I wonder what all these people would say if they were suddenly asked what they wanted most and had to answer truthfully. I wonder how many of these husbands and wives would like a change. Chris Farrow and Mrs. Chris Wood, everybody knows that.

Starting point is 01:08:41 Can't think why I feel so sure that James Beady and his wife would do. They seem to be quite contented with each other, but once I saw her look at him when she did not know anyone was watching, oh, it seemed to me I saw right into her soul, through her eyes and she hated him and feared him. She is sitting there now beside him, little and thin and doughty, and her face is gray and her hair is faded, but she, herself, is one red flame of rebellion. What she wants most is to be free from him, or just to strike back once. That would satisfy her. There's Dean. I wonder what brought him to prayer meeting. His face is very solemn, but his eyes are mocking Mr. Sampson. What's that Mr. Sampson saying? Oh, something about

Starting point is 01:09:20 the wise virgins. I hate the wise virgins. I think they were horribly selfish. They might have given the poor foolish ones a little oil. I don't believe Jesus meant to praise them any more than he meant to praise the unjust steward. I think he was just trying to warn foolish people that they must not be careless and foolish, because if they were, prudent selfish folks would never help them out. I wonder if it's very wicked to feel that I'd rather be outside with the foolish ones trying to help and comfort them than inside feasting with the wise ones. It would be more interesting, too. There's Mrs. Kent and Teddy. Oh, she wants something terribly. I don't know what it is, but it's something she can never get, and the hunger for it goads her night and

Starting point is 01:09:55 day. That is why she holds Teddy so closely, I know, but I don't know what it is that makes her so different from other women. I can never get a peep into her soul. She shuts everyone out. The door is never unlatched. What do I want most? It is to climb the alpine path to the very top, and right upon its shining scroll a woman's humble name. We're all hungry. We all want some bread of life, but Mr. Sampson can't give it to us. I wonder what he wants most. His soul is so muggy I can't see into it. He has a lot of sword at once. He doesn't want anything enough to dominate him.

Starting point is 01:10:29 Mr. Johnson wants to help people and preach truth. He really does. And Aunt Janie wants most of all to see the whole heathen world Christianized. Her soul hasn't any dark wishes in it? I know what Mr. Carpenter wants, his one lost chance again. Catherine Morris wants her youth back. She hates us younger girls because we are young. Old Malcolm Strang just wants to live.

Starting point is 01:10:50 Just one more year. always just one more year, just to live, just not to die. It must be horrible to have nothing to live for except just to escape dying. Yet he believes in heaven. He thinks he will go there. If he could see My Flash just once, he wouldn't hate the thought of dying, so, poor old man. And Mary Strang wants to die, before something terrible she is afraid of tortures her to death. They say it's cancer. There is mad Mr. Morrison up in the gallery.

Starting point is 01:11:15 We all know what he wants, to find his Annie. Tom Sibley wants the moon, I think, and knows he can never get it. That's why people say he's not all there. Amy Crabb wants Max Terry to come back to her. Nothing else matters to her. I must write all these things down in my Jimmy book tomorrow. They are fascinating, but after all, I like writing of beautiful things better. Only, these things have a tang beautiful things don't have some way.

Starting point is 01:11:38 Those woods out there, how wonderful they are in their silver and shadow. The moonlight is doing strange things to the tombstones. It makes even the ugly ones beautiful. But it's terribly hot. It is smothering here, and those thunder growls are coming near. I hope Bilsa and I will get home before the storm breaks. Oh, Mr. Sampson, Mr. Sampson, God isn't an angry God. You don't know anything about him if you say that.

Starting point is 01:11:59 He's sorrowful, I'm sure, when we're foolish and wicked, but he doesn't fly into tantrums. Your God and Ellen Green's God are exactly alike. I'd like to get up and tell you so, but it isn't a Murray tradition to sass back in church. You make God ugly, and he's beautiful. I hate you for making God ugly, you fat little man. Whereupon Mr. Sampson, who had several times noted Emily's intent probing gaze, and thought he was impressing her tremendously with a sense of her unsaved condition, finished with a final urgent whoop of entreaty, and sat down.

Starting point is 01:12:28 The audience, in the close oppressive atmosphere of the crowded lamplit church, gave an audible sigh of relief, and scarcely waited for the hymn and benediction before crowding out to pure air. Emily caught in the current, and parted from Aunt Laura, was swept out by way of the choir door to the left of the pulpit. It was some time before she could disentangle herself from the throng and hurry around to the front where she expected to meet Elsa. here was another dense, the rapidly thinning crowd, in which she found no trace of Ilsa.

Starting point is 01:12:55 Suddenly Emily noticed that she did not have her hymn-book. Hastily, she dashed back to the choir door. She must have left her hymn-book in the pew, and it would never do to leave it there. In it she had placed for safekeeping a slip of paper on which she had furtively jotted down some fragmentary notes during the last hymn. A rather biting description of scarning Miss Potter in the choir, a couple of satiric sentences regarding Mr. Sampson himself, and a few random fancies were, which she desired most of all to hide, because there was in them something of dream and vision which would have made the reading of them by alien eyes a sacrilege. Old Jacob Banks, the sexton, a little blind and more than a little deaf, was turning out the lamps as she went in.

Starting point is 01:13:33 He had reached the two on the wall behind the pulpit. Emily caught her hymn-book from the rack, her slip of paper was not in it. By the faint gleam of light, as Jacob Banks turned out the last lamp, she saw it on the floor, under the seat of the pew in front. She kneeled down and reached after it. as she did so Jacob went out and locked the choir door. Emily did not notice his going. The church was still faintly illuminated by the moon that as yet outrode the rapidly climbing thunderheads.

Starting point is 01:13:58 That was not the right slip of paper after all. Where could it be? Oh, here at last. She caught it up and ran to the door which would not open. For the first time, Emily realized that Jacob Banks had gone that she was alone in the church. She wasted time trying to open the door, then in calling Mr. Banks.

Starting point is 01:14:15 Finally she ran down the aisle into the front porch. As she did so, she heard the last buggy turned grindingly at the gate and drive away. At the same time, the moon was suddenly swallowed up by the black clouds and the church was engulfed in darkness. Close, hot smothering, almost tangible darkness. Emily screamed in sudden panic, beat on the door, frantically twisted the handle, screamed again. Oh, everybody could not have gone. Surely somebody would hear her. Aunt Laura, Cousin Jimmy, Elsa!

Starting point is 01:14:42 Then finally, in a wail of despair. Oh, Daddy! Daddy! A blue-white stream of lightning swept the porch, followed by a crash of thunder. One of the worst storms in Blair Water annals had begun, and Emily Star was locked alone in the dark church in the Maple Woods. She, who had always been afraid of thunderstorms, with a reasonless instinctive fear, for which she could never banish and only partially control. She sank quivering on a step of the gallery stairs and huddled there in a heap.

Starting point is 01:15:08 Surely someone would come back when it was discovered she was missing, but would it be discovered? It would miss her. Aunt Laura and cousin Jimmy would suppose she was with Ilsa as had been arranged. Ilsa, who had evidently gone, believing that Emily was not coming with her, would suppose she had gone home to New Moon. Nobody knew where she was. Nobody would come back for her. She must stay here in this horrible, lonely, black, echoing place.

Starting point is 01:15:31 For now, this church see knew so well and loved for its old associations of Sunday school and song and homely faces of dear friends had become a ghostly alien place full of haunting terrors. There was no escape. The windows could not be opened. The church was ventilated by tranceom-like panes near the top of them, which were opened and shut by pulling a wire. She could not get up to them, and she could not have got through them if she had. She cowered down on the step, shuddering from head to foot. By now, the thunder and lightning were almost incessant.

Starting point is 01:15:59 Rain blew against the windows, not in drops, but sheets, and intermittent volleys of hail bombarded them. The wind had risen suddenly with a storm and shrieked around the church. It was not her old dear friend of childhood, the bat-winged misty wind. woman, but a legion of yelling witches. The prince of the power of the air rolls the wind. She had heard Mad Mr. Morrison say once. Why should she think of Mad Mr. Morrison now? How the windows rattled as if demon riders of the storm were shaking them.

Starting point is 01:16:26 She had heard a wild tale of someone hearing the organ play in the empty church one night several years ago. Suppose it began playing now. No fancy seemed too grotesque or horrible to come true. Didn't the stairs creak? The blackness between the lightnings was so intense that it looked. thick. Emily was frightened of it touching her and buried her face in her lap. Presently, however, she got a grip on herself, and began to reflect that she was not living up to Murray traditions. Murys were not supposed to go to pieces like this. Murys were not foolishly panicky in thunderstorms.

Starting point is 01:16:57 Those old Murray, sleeping in the private graveyard across the pond, would have scorned her as a degenerate descendant. And Elizabeth would have said that it was the star coming out in her. She must be brave, after all. She had lived through worse hours than this. The night she had eaten of Lofty John's poisoned apple, the afternoon she had fallen over the rocks of Malvern Bay, this had come so suddenly on her that she had been in the throes of terror before she could brace herself against it. She must pick up. Nothing dreadful was going to happen to her, nothing worse than staying all night in the church. In the morning she could attract the attention of someone passing.

Starting point is 01:17:30 She had been here over an hour now, and nothing had happened to her, unless indeed her hair had turned white, as she understood hair sometimes did. There had been such a funny, crinkly, crawly feeling at the roots of it at times. Emily held out her long braid, ready for the next flash. When it came, she saw that her hair was still black. She sighed with relief and began to jerk up. The storm was passing. The thunder peals were growing fainter and fewer, though the rain continued to fall,

Starting point is 01:17:55 and the wind to drive and shriek around the church, winding through the big keyhole eerily. Emily straightened her shoulders and cautiously let down her feet to a lower step. She thought she had better tried to get back into the church, if another cloud came up the steeple might be struck steeples were always getting struck she remembered it might come crashing down on the porch right over her she would go in and sit down in the murray pew she would be cool and sensible and collected she was ashamed of her panic but it had been terrible all around her now was a soft heavy darkness still with that same eerie sensation of something you could touch borne perhaps of the heat and humidity of the july night the porch was so small and narrow she would not feel so smothered and oppressed in the church she put out her hand to grasp a stair rail and pull herself to her cramped feet her hand touched not the stair rail merciful heavens what was it something hairy emily's shriek of horror froze on her lips patting footsteps passed down the steps beside her a flash of lightning came and at the bottom of the steps was a huge black dog, which had turned and was looking up at her before he was blotted out in the

Starting point is 01:18:55 returning darkness. Even then, for a moment, she saw his eyes blazing redly at her like a fiends. Emily's hair roots began to crawl and crinkle again. A very large, very cold caterpillar began to creep slowly upper spine. She could not have moved a muscle that had her life depended on it. She could not even cry out. The only thing she could think of at first was the horrible demon hound of the Manx Castle in Paraville of the Peak. For a few minutes her terror was so great that it turned her physically sick. Then, with an effort that was unchild-like in its determination, I think it was at that moment Emily wholly ceased to be a child, she recovered her self-control. She would not yield to fear. She set her teeth and clenched her trembling hands.

Starting point is 01:19:35 She would be brave, sensible. That was only a commonplace Blair-watered dog, which had followed its owner, some rapscallion boy, into the gallery, and got itself left behind. The thing had happened before. A flash of lightning showed her that the porch was empty. Evidently the dog had gone into the church. Emily decided that she would stay where she was. She had recovered from her panic, but she did not want to feel the sudden touch of a cold nose or a hairy flank in darkness. She could never forget the awfulness of the moment when she had touched the creature.

Starting point is 01:20:03 It must be all of twelve o'clock now. It had been ten when the meeting came out. The noise of the storm had for the most part died away. The drive and shriek of the wind came occasionally, but between its gusts there was a silence, broken only by the diminishing raindrops. Thunder still muttered faintly and, lightning came at frequent intervals, but of a paler, gentler flame, not the rending glare that

Starting point is 01:20:23 had seemed to wrap the very building in intolerable blue radiance and scorch her eyes. Gradually, her heart began to beat normally. The power of rational thought returned. She did not like her predicament, but she began to find dramatic possibilities in it. Oh, what a chapter for her diary, or her Jimmy book, and beyond it, for that novel she would write some day. It was a situation expressly shaped for the heroine, who must, of course, be rescued by the hero. Emily began constructing the scene, adding to it, intensifying it, hunting for words to express it.

Starting point is 01:20:53 This was rather interesting, after all. Only, she wished she knew just where the dog was. How weirdly the pale lightning gleamed on the gravestones which she could see through the porch window opposite her. How strange the familiar valley beyond looked in the recurrent illuminations. How the wind moaned and sighed and complained, but it was her own windwoman again. The wind woman was one of her childish fancies that she had carried over into maturity, and had comforted her now, with a sense of ancient companionship. The wild riders with the storm were gone, her fairy friend had come back.

Starting point is 01:21:26 Emily gave a sigh that was almost of contentment. The worst was over, and really hadn't she behaved pretty well? She began to feel quite self-respecting again. All at once Emily knew she was not alone. How she knew it she could not have told. She had heard nothing, seen nothing, felt nothing, and yet she knew, beyond all doubt or dispute, that there was a presence in the darkness above her on the stairs.

Starting point is 01:21:49 She turned and looked up. It was horrible to look, but it was less horrible to feel that something was in front of you than that it was behind you. She stared with wildly dilated eyes into the darkness, but she could see nothing. Then she heard a low laugh above her, a laugh that almost made her heart stop beating, the very dreadful, inhuman laughter of the unsound in mind. She did not need the lightning flash that came then to tell her that mad Mr. Morrison was somewhere on the stairs above her. But it came. She saw him. She felt as if she were sinking

Starting point is 01:22:20 into some icy gulf of coldness. She could not even scream. The picture of him, etched on her brain by the lightning, never left her. He was crouched five steps above her with his gray head thrust forward. She saw the frenzied gleam of his eyes, the fang-like yellow teeth exposed in a horrible smile, the long, thin, blood-red hound outstretched towards her, almost touching her shoulder. Sheer panic shattered Emily's trance. She bounded to her feet with a piercing scream of terror. Teddy! Teddy! Save me! She streaked madly.

Starting point is 01:22:49 She did not know why she had called for Teddy. She did not even realize that she had called him. She only remembered it afterwards, as one might recall the waking shriek in a nightmare. She only knew that she must have help, that she would die if that awful hen touched her. It must not touch her. She made a mad spring down the steps,

Starting point is 01:23:05 rushed into the church and up the aisle. She must hide before the next flash came, but not in the Murray pew. He might look for her there. She dived into one of the middle pews and crouched down in its corner on the floor. Her body was bathed in a nice cold perspiration. She was wholly in the grip of uncontrollable terror.

Starting point is 01:23:21 All she could think of was that it must not touch her, that blood-red hand of the mad old man. Moments passed that seemed like years. Presently she heard footsteps, footsteps that came and went, yet seemed to approach her slowly. Suddenly she knew what he was doing. He was going into every pew, not waiting for the lightning to feel about for her.

Starting point is 01:23:39 He was looking for her then. She had heard that sometimes he followed young girls thinking they were Annie. if he copped him he held them with one hand and stroked their hair and faces fondly with the other mumbling foolish senile endearments he had never harmed anyone but he had never let anyone go until she was rescued by some other person it was said that mary paxton of derry pond had never been quite the same again her nerves never recovered from the shock emily knew that it was only a question of time before he would reach the pew where she crouched feeling about with those hands all that kept the senses in her frozen body was the thought that if she lost consciousness those hands would touch or hold her caress her. The next lightning flash showed him entering the adjoining pew. Emily sprang up and out and rushed to the other side of the church. She hit again, he would search her out, but she could again elude him. This might go on all night, a madman's strength without last hers.

Starting point is 01:24:29 At light she might fall exhausted and he would pounce on her. For what seemed hours to Emily, this mad game of hide-and-seek lasted. It was in reality about half an hour. She was hardly a rational creature at all, any more than her demented pursuer. She was a very little. She was nearly a crouching, springing, shrieking thing of horror. Time after time he hunted her out with his cunning and plackable patience. The last time she was near one of the porch doors, and in desperation she sprang through it and slammed it in his face. With the last ounce of her strength, she tried to hold the knob from turning in his grasp, and as she strove, she heard, was she dreaming? Teddy's voice calling to her from the steps outside the outer door. Emily, Emily, are you there?

Starting point is 01:25:09 She did not know he had come. She did not wonder. She only knew he was there. Teddy, I'm locked in the charge, she shrieked, and Mad Mr. Morrison is here. Oh, quick, quick, save me, save me. The key of the door is the right side, shouted Teddy. Can you get it and unlock the door? If you can't, I'll smash the porch window. The clouds broke at that moment and the porch was filled with moonlight. In it, she saw plainly the big key, hanging high on the wall beside the front door. She dashed at it and caught it as mad Mr. Morrison wrenched open the door and sprang into the porch, his dog behind him.

Starting point is 01:25:42 Emily unlocked the outer door and stumbled out into Teddy's arms just in time to elude that outstretched blood-red hand. She heard Mad Mr. Morrison give a wild eerie shriek of despair as she escaped him. Sobbing, shaking, she clung to Teddy. Oh, Teddy, take me away! Take me quick! Oh, don't let him touch! Teddy swung her behind him and faced Mad Mr. Morrison on the stone step. How dare you frighten her so? He demanded angrily. Mad, Mr. Morrison smiled deprecatingly in the moonlight. All at once, he was not wild or violent, only a heartburn.

Starting point is 01:26:15 broken old man who sought his own. "'I want Annie,' he mumbled. "'Where is Annie? I thought I had found her in there. I only wanted to find my beautiful Annie.' "'Annie isn't here,' said Teddy, tightening his hold on Emily's cold little hand. "'Can you tell me where Annie is?' entreated mad Mr. Morrison wistfully.

Starting point is 01:26:32 "'Can you tell me where my dark-haired Annie is?' Teddy was furious with mad Mr. Morrison for frightening Emily, but the old man's piteous entreaty touched him, and the artist in him responded to the values of the picture presented against the background of the white moonlit church. He thought he would like to paint Mad Mr. Morrison as he stood there, tall and gaunt in his gray duster coat, with his long white hair and beard, and the ageless quest in his hollow sunken eyes.

Starting point is 01:26:56 No, no, I don't know where she is, he said gently, but I think he will find her sometime. Mad Mr. Morrison sighed. Oh, yes, sometime I will overtake her. Come, my dog, we will seek her. Followed by his old black dog, he went down the steps, across the green, and down the long, wet tree. shadowed road. So going, he passed out of Emily's life. She never saw mad Mr. Morrison again. But she looked after him, understandingly, and forgave him. To himself, he was not the repulsive old

Starting point is 01:27:25 man he seemed to her. He was a gallant young lover, seeking his lost and lovely bride. The pitiful beauty of his quest intrigued her, even in the shaking reaction from her hour of agony. Poor Mr. Morrison! She sobbed. As Teddy half led, half carried her to one of the old flat gravestones at the side of the church. They sat there and took her, and took her to her. They sat there until Emily recovered composure and managed to tell her tale, or the outlines of it. She felt she could never tell, perhaps not even write in a Jimmy book, the whole of its racking horror. That was beyond words. And to think, she sobbed, that the key was there all the time. I never knew it.

Starting point is 01:28:01 Old Jacob Banks always locks the front door with its big key on the inside, and then it hangs it up on that nail, said Teddy. He locks the choir door with a little key, which he takes home. He's always done that since the time, three years ago, when he lost the big key and was weeks before he found it. Suddenly, Emily awoke to the strangeness of Teddy's coming. How did you happen to come, Teddy? Why, I heard you call me, he said. You did call me, didn't you? Yes, said Emily slowly. I called for you when I saw mad Mr. Morrison first. But Teddy, you couldn't have heard me. You couldn't. The Tansy Patch is a mile from here. I did hear you, said Teddy stubbornly. I was asleep and it woke me up. You called Teddy, Teddy, save me. It was your voice

Starting point is 01:28:43 as plain as I ever heard it in my life. I got right up and hurried on my clothes and came here as fast as I could. How did you know I was here? Why? I don't know, said Teddy confusedly. I didn't stop to think. I just seemed to know you were in the church when I heard you calling me, and I must get there as quick as I could. It's all funny, he concluded lamely. It's, it, it frightens me a little, Emily shivered. Aunt Elizabeth says I have second sight. You remember Illis's mother? Mr. Carvencer says I'm psychic. I don't know just what it means, but I think I'd rather not be it.

Starting point is 01:29:20 She shivered again. Teddy thought she was cold, and having nothing else to put around her, put his arm, somewhat tentatively, since Murray Pride and Murray Dignity might be outraged. Emily was not cold in body, but a little chill had blown over her soul. Something supernatural. Some mystery she could not understand had brushed too near her in that strange summoning. involuntarily she nestled a little closer to teddy acutely conscious of the boyish tenderness she sensed behind the aloofness of his boyish shyness suddenly she knew that she liked teddy better than anybody better even than aunt laura or ilse or dean teddy's arm tightened a little

Starting point is 01:29:55 anyhow i'm glad i got here in time he said if i hadn't that crazy old man might have frightened you to death they sat so for a few minutes in silence everything seemed very wonderful and beautiful and a little unreal emily thought she must be in a dream or in one of her own wonder tales the storm had passed and the moon was shining clearly once more the cool fresh air was threaded with beguiling voices the fitful voice of rain-drops falling from the shaken boughs of the maple woods behind them the freakish voice of the wind-woman around the world white church, the far-off intriguing voice of the sea, and still finer and rarer, the little remote detached voices of the night. Emily heard them all, more with the ears of her soul than of her body. It seemed as if she had never heard them before. Beyond were fields and groves and roads, pleasantly suggestive and elusive, as if brooding over elfish secrets in the moonlight. Silver white daisies were nodding and swaying all over the graveyard above graves, remembered, and graves forgotten. An owl laughed delightfully to itself in the old pine.

Starting point is 01:30:55 At the magical sound, Emily's mystic flash swept over her, swaying her like a strong wind. She felt as if she and Teddy were all alone in a wonderful new world, created for themselves only out of youth and mystery and delight. They seemed themselves to be part of the faint cool fragrance of the night of the owl's laughter of the daisies blowing in the shadowy air. As for Teddy, he was thinking that Emily looked very sweet in the pale moonshine, with her fringed mysterious eyes, and little dark love curls creaking to her ivory neck. He tightened his arm a little more, and still, Murray Pride and Murray Dignity made not a particle of protest. "'Emily,' whispered Teddy, "'you're the sweetest girl in the world.'

Starting point is 01:31:34 The words had been said so often by so many millions of lads to so many millions of lasses that they ought to be worn to tatters. But when you hear them for the first time, in some magic hour of your teens, they are as new and fresh and wondrous as if they had just drifted over the hedges of Edom. Madam, whoever you are, and however old you are, be honest and admit that the first of the first of you are. first time you heard those words on the lips of some shy sweetheart was the great moment of your life. Emily thrilled from the crown of her head to the toes of her slippered feet, with a sensation of hit or two unknown and almost terrifying sweetness, a sensation that was to sense what her flash was to spirit. It is quite conceivable and not totally reprehensible that the next thing that happened might have been a kiss. Emily thought Teddy was going to kiss her. Teddy knew he was,

Starting point is 01:32:20 and the odds are that he wouldn't have had his face laughed as Jophe North had had. but it was not to be. A shadow that had slipped in at the gate and drifted across the wet grass halted beside them and touched Teddy's shoulder just as he bent his glossy black head. He looked up, startled. Emily looked up. Mrs. Kent was standing there, bareheaded her scarred face clear in the moonlight, looking at them tragically.

Starting point is 01:32:42 Emily and Teddy both stood up so suddenly that they seemed veritably to have been jerked to their feet. Emily's fairy world vanished like a dissolving bubble. She was in a different world altogether, an absurd, ridiculous one. Yes, ridiculous. everything had suddenly become ridiculous. Could anything be more ridiculous tended to be caught here with Teddy by his mother at two o'clock at night?

Starting point is 01:33:02 What was that horrid word she had lately heard for the first time? Oh yes, Spooning, that was it. Spooning on George Horton's 80-year-old tombstone? That was how other people would look at it. How could a thing be so beautiful one moment and so absurd the next? She was one horrible scorch of shame from head to feet.

Starting point is 01:33:19 And Teddy, she knew Teddy was feeling like a fool. To Mrs. Kent, it was not ridiculous. It was dreadful. To her abnormal jealousy, the incident had the most sinister significance. She looked at Emily with her hollow, hungry eyes. So you are trying to steal my son from me, she said. He is all I have and you are trying to steal him. Oh, mother for goodness sake, be sensible, muttered Teddy.

Starting point is 01:33:41 He tells me to be sensible. Mrs. Kent echoed tragically to the moon. Sensible! Yes, sensible, said Teddy angrily. There's nothing to make such a fuss about. Emily was locked in the church by accident and mad Mr. Morrison was there too and nearly frightened her to death. I came to let her out, and we were sitting here for a few minutes until she got over her fright and was able to walk home. That's all. Then how did you know

Starting point is 01:34:03 she was here? demanded Mrs. Kent. How indeed? This was a hard question to answer. The truth sounded like a silly, stupid invention. Nevertheless, Teddy told it. She called me, he said bluntly. And you heard her a mile away. Do you expect me to believe that? Emily had by this time recovered her poise. At no time in her life was Emily Bird's star ever disconcerted for long. She drew herself up proudly, and in the dim light, in spite of her star features, she looked much as Elizabeth Murray must have looked over 30 years before. Whether you believe it or not, it is true, Mrs. Kent, she said huddly. I am not stealing your son. I do not want him. He can go. I'm going to take you home first, Emily, said Teddy. He folded his arms and threw back his head and tried to look as stately as

Starting point is 01:34:50 Emily. He felt that he was a dismal failure at it, but it imposed on Mrs. Kent. She began to cry. Go, go, go! She said, go to her. Desert me. Emily was thoroughly angry now. If this irrational woman persisted in making a scene, very well a scene she should have. I won't let him take me home, she said freezingly. Teddy, go with your mother. Oh, you command him, do you? He must do as you tell him, then, must he? cried Mrs. Kent, who now seemed to lose all control of herself. Her tiny form was shaken with violent sobs. She wrung her hands. "'He shall choose for himself,' she cried.

Starting point is 01:35:24 "'He shall go with you, or come with me. "'Choose, Teddy, for yourself. "'You shall not do her bidding. "'Choose!' "'She was fiercely dramatic again, "'as she lifted her hand and pointed at poor Teddy. "'Teddy was feeling as miserable "'and impotently angry as any male creature does

Starting point is 01:35:38 "'when two women are crawling about him in his presence. "'He wished himself a thousand miles away. "'What a mess to be in! "'And to be made ridiculous like this before Emily! "'Why on earth couldn't his mother behave like other boy's mother? Why must she be so intense and exacting? He knew Blair Water gossip said she was a little touched. He did not believe that.

Starting point is 01:35:57 But, but well, in short, here was a mess. You came back to that every time. What on earth was he to do? If he took Emily home, he knew his mother would cry and pray for days. On the other hand, to desert Emily after her dreadful experience in the church, and leave her to traverse that lonely road alone was unthinkable. But Emily now dominated the situation. She was very angry, with the icy anger of old human,

Starting point is 01:36:19 of old Hugh Murray that did not dissipate itself in idle bluster, but went straight to the point. You are a foolish, selfish woman, she said, and you will make her son hate you. Selfish, you can call me selfish, saw Mrs. Kent. I live only for Teddy, he is all I have to live for. You are selfish. Emily was standing straight. Her eyes had gone black, her voice was cutting. The Murray look was on her face, and in the pale moonlight it was a rather fearsome thing. She wondered, as she spoke, how she knew certain things. But she did know them. You think you love him. It is only a very serious.

Starting point is 01:36:49 yourself, you love. You are determined to spoil his life. You won't let him go to Struisbury because it will hurt you to let him go away from you. You have let your jealousy of everything he cares for, eat your heart out and master you. You won't bear a little pain for his sake. You are not a mother at all. Teddy has a great talent. Everyone says so. You ought to be proud of him. You ought to give him his chance. But you won't, and someday he will hate you for it. Yes, he will. Oh, no, no, moaned Mrs. Kent. She held up her hands as if to ward off a blow and shrank back against Teddy. Oh, you are cruel, cruel. You don't know what I've suffered. You don't know what an ache has always at my heart. He is all I have. Oh, I have nothing else. Not even a memory. You don't understand.

Starting point is 01:37:28 I can't, I can't give him up. If you let your jealousy ruin his life, you will lose him, said Emily inexorably. She had always been afraid of Mrs. Kent. Now she was suddenly no longer afraid of her. She knew she would never be afraid of her again. You hate everything he cares for. You hate his friends and his dog and his drawing. You know you do. But you can't keep him that way. Mrs. Kent, and you will find it out when it is too late. Good night, Teddy. Thank you for coming to my rescue. Good night, Mrs. Kent. Emily's good night was very final. She turned and stalked across the green without another glance, holding her head high. Down the wet road, she marched. At first, very angry. Then, as anger ebbed, very tired. Oh, horribly tired. She discovered that she was fairly shaking

Starting point is 01:38:07 with weariness. The emotions of the night had exhausted her, and now, what to do? She did not like the idea of going home to New Moon. Emily felt that she could never face outraged and Elizabeth that the various scandalous doings of this night should be discovered. She turned in at the gate of Dr. Burnley's house. His doors were never locked. Emily slipped into the front hall as the dawn began to whiten in the sky and curled up on the lounge behind the staircase. There was no use in waking Ilsa.

Starting point is 01:38:33 She would tell her the whole story in the morning and bind her to secrecy. All at least, except one thing Teddy had said and the episode of Mrs. Kent. One was too beautiful and the other too disagreeable to be talked about. Of course, Mrs. Kent wasn't like other women, and there was no use in feeling too badly about it. Nevertheless, she had wrecked and spoiled a failed, beautiful something. She had blotched with absurdity a moment that should have been eternally lovely, and she had, of course, made for Teddy feel like an ass.

Starting point is 01:38:59 That, in the last analysis, was what Emily really could not forgive. As she drifted off to sleep, she recalled drowsily the events of that bewildering night. Her imprisonment in the lonely church, the horror of touching the dog, the worst horror of mad Mr. Morrison's pursuit, her rapture of relief at Teddy's voice, the brief little moonlit idol in the graveyard, of all places for an idol, the tragic comic event of poor morbid jealous Mrs. Kent. I hope I wasn't too hard on her, thought Emily as she drifted into slumber. If I was, I'm sorry. I'll have to write it down as a bad deed in my diary. I feel somehow as if I'd grown up all at once tonight.

Starting point is 01:39:34 Yesterday seems years away. But what a chapter it will make for my diary. I'll write it all down. All but Teddy's saying I was the sweetest girl in the world. That's too dear to write. I'll just remember it. End of chapter three. Chapter 4 of Emily Climes.

Starting point is 01:40:00 This is a LibriVox recording. All Libre Vox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Chapter 4. As Ivers see us. emily had finished mopping up the kitchen floor at new moon and was absorbed in sanding it in the beautiful and complicated herring-bone pattern which was one of the new moon traditions having been invented so it was said by great-great-grandmother of here i stay fang Aunt Laura had taught Emily how to do it, and Emily was proud of her skill.

Starting point is 01:40:43 Even Aunt Elizabeth had condescended to say that Emily sanded the famous pattern very well, and when Aunt Elizabeth praised, further comment was superfluous. New Moon was the only place in Blair Water, where the old custom of sanding the floor was kept up. Other housewives had long ago begun to use newfangled devices and patent cleaners for making their floors white. But Dame Elizabeth Murray would none of such, as long as long as. as she reigned at new moon, so long should candles burn and sanded floors gleam whitely. Aunt Elizabeth had exasperated Emily somewhat by insisting that the latter should put on Aunt Laura's old mother Hubbard while she was scrubbing the floor. A mother Hubbard, it may be necessary to explain to

Starting point is 01:41:27 those of this generation, was a loose and shapeless garment which served principally as a sort of morning gown and was liked in its day because it was cool and easily put on. Untilizabeth, it is quite unnecessary to say, disapproved entirely of Mother Hubbard's. She considered them the last word in slovenliness, and Laura was never permitted to have another one. But the old one, though its original pretty lilac tint had faded to a dingy white, was still too good to be banished to the ragbag, and it was this which Emily had been told to put on. Emily detested Mother Hubbard as heartily as Aunt Elizabeth herself did. They were worse, she considered, even than the hated baby aprons of her first summer at New Moon. She knew she looked ridiculous in Aunt Laura's mother Hubbard, which came to her feet

Starting point is 01:42:15 and hung in loose, unbeautiful lines from her thin young shoulders, and Emily had a horror of being ridiculous. She had once shocked Aunt Elizabeth by Cooley telling her that she would rather be bad than ridiculous. Emily had scrubbed and sanded with one eye on the door, ready to run if any stranger loomed up while she had on that hideous wrapper. It was not, as Emily very well knew, a Murray tradition to run. At New Moon you stood your ground, no matter what you had on, the presupposition being that you were always neatly and properly habited for the occupation of the moment.

Starting point is 01:42:52 Emily recognised the propriety of this. It was nevertheless foolish and young enough to feel that she would die of shame if seen by anyone in Aunt Laura's brother Hubbard. It was neat. It was clean. But it was ridiculous. There you were. Just as Emily finished sanding and turned to place her can of sand in the niche under the kitchen mantle, where it had been kept from time immemorial, she heard strange voices in the kitchen yard. A hasty glimpse through the window revealed to her the owners of the voices, Miss Buella Potter and Mrs. Anne Cyrilla Potter, calling no doubt in regard to the projected ladies' aid social. They were coming to the back door,

Starting point is 01:43:33 the Blair Water custom when running into your neighbours, informally or on business. They were already past the gay platoons of hollyhocks, with which cousin Jimmy had flanked the stone path to the dairy. And of all the people in Blair Water and out of it, they were the two whom Emily would least want to see her in any ridiculous plight whatever. Without stopping to think, she darted into the boot closet

Starting point is 01:43:55 and shut the door. Mrs Anne Cirilla knocked twice at the kitchen door, but Emily did not budge. She knew Aunt Laura was weaving in the garret. She could hear the dull thud of the treadles overhead. But she thought Aunt Elizabeth was concocting pies in the cookhouse and would see or hear the callers. She would take them into the sitting room and then Emily could make her escape. And on one thing she was determined, they should not see her in that mother hubbard.

Starting point is 01:44:22 Miss Potter was a thin, venomous, assidulated gossip who seemed to dislike everybody in general and Emily in particular. and Mrs Anne Sorilla was a plump, pretty, smooth, amiable gossip, who, by very reason of her smoothness and amiability, did more real harm in a week than Miss Potter did in a year. Emily distrusted her, even while she could not help liking her. She had so often heard Mrs. Anne Cirilla making, smiling fun of people, to whose faces she had been very sweet and charming. And Mrs. Anne Cirrilla, who had been one of the dressy wallaces from Derry Pond,

Starting point is 01:44:58 was especially fond of laughing over the peculiarities of other people's clothes. Again the knock came, Miss Potter's this time, as Emily knew by the staccato raps. They were getting impatient. Well, they might knock there till the cows come home, vowed Emily. She would not go to the door in the mother hubbard. Then she heard Perry's voice outside explaining that Miss Elizabeth was away in the stumps behind the barn picking raspberries, but that he would go and get her if they would walk in and make themselves at home.

Starting point is 01:45:30 To Emily's despair, this was just what they did. Miss Potter sat down with a creek, and Mrs. Anne Cirilla with a puff, and Perry's retreating footsteps died away in the yard. Emily realized that she was by way of being in a plight. It was very hot and stuffy in the tiny boot closet, where cousin Jimmy's working clothes were kept, as well as boots. She hoped earnestly that Perry would not be long in finding Aunt Elizabeth.

Starting point is 01:45:56 My, but it's awful, hot. Hot, oh, said Mrs. Anne Cirilla, with a large groan. Poor Emily. No, no, we must not call her poor Emily. She does not deserve pity. She's been very silly, and is served exactly right. Emily then, already violently perspiring in her close quarters, agreed wholly with her. I don't feel the heat as fat people do, said Miss Potter. I hope Elizabeth won't keep us waiting long. Laura's weaving. I hear the loom going in the garret, but there would be no use in seeing her. Elizabeth would override anything Laura might promise, just because it wasn't her

Starting point is 01:46:35 arrangement. I see somebody has just finished sanding the floor. Look at those worn boards, will you? You'd think Elizabeth Murray would have a new floor laid down, but she's too mean, of course. Look at that row of candles on the chimney piece, all that trouble and poor light, because of the little extra coal oil would cost. Well, she can't take her money with her. She'll have to leave her. She'll have to it all behind at the Golden Gate, even if she is a Murray. Emily experienced a shock. She realised that not only was she being half-sufficated in the boot closet, but that she was an eavesdropper,

Starting point is 01:47:07 something she had never been since the evening at Maywood when she had hidden under the table to hear her aunts and uncles discussing her fate. To be sure, that had been voluntary, while this was compulsory. At least the Mother Hubbard had made it compulsory. But that would not make Miss Potter's comments any pleasanter to hear, What business had she to call Aunt Elizabeth mean? Aunt Elizabeth wasn't mean. Emily was suddenly very angry with Miss Potter.

Starting point is 01:47:34 She herself often criticised Aunt Elizabeth in secret, but it was intolerable that an outsider should do it, and that little sneer at the Murray's, Emily could imagine the shrewish glint in Miss Potter's eye, as she uttered it. As for the candles. The Murrays can see father buy candlelight, then you can buy sunlight, Miss Potter,

Starting point is 01:47:54 thought Emily disdainfully. or at least as disdainfully as it is possible to think when a river of perspiration is running down your back and you have nothing to breathe but the aroma of old leather. I suppose it's because of the expense that she won't send Emily to school any longer than this year, said Mrs. Anne Cirrilla. Most folks thinks she ought to give her a year at Shrewsbury anyhow.

Starting point is 01:48:17 You'd think she would for pride's sake if nothing else, but I'm told she has decided against it. Emily's heart sank. She hadn't been quite sure till now that Aunt Elizabeth wouldn't send her to Shrewsbury, the tears sprang to her eyes, burning, stinging tears of disappointment. Emily ought to be taught something to earn a living by,

Starting point is 01:48:39 said Miss Potter. Her father left nothing. He left me, said Emily below her breath, clenching her fists. Anger dried up her tears. Said Mrs. Anne Cerilla, laughing with tolerant derision. I hear that Emily is going to make a living by writing stories.

Starting point is 01:48:59 Not only a living but a fortune, I believe. She laughed again. The idea was so exquisitely ridiculous. Mrs. Anne Sorilla hadn't heard anything so funny for a long time. They say she wastes half her time scribbling trash, agreed Miss Potter. If I was her aunt Elizabeth, I would soon cure her of that nonsense. You mightn't find it so easy. I understand she's always been a difficult girl to manage.

Starting point is 01:49:27 So very pig-headed, Murray-like. The whole clam jam-free of them are as stubborn as mules. Emily Rothfully, What a disrespectful way to speak of us! Oh, if I only hadn't on this mother Hubbard, I'd fling the store open and confront them. She needs a tight rain, if I know anything of human nature, said Miss Potter. She's going to be a flirt.

Starting point is 01:49:52 Anyone can see that. She'll be Juliet over again. You'll see. She makes eyes at everyone and her only 14. Emily sarcastically, I do not. And Mother wasn't a flirt. She could have been, but she wasn't. You couldn't flirt even if you wanted to, you respectable old female.

Starting point is 01:50:14 She isn't pretty, as poor Juliet was, and she's very sly, sly and deep. Mrs. Dutton says she's the slyest child she ever saw. But still there are things I like about poor Emily. Mrs. Anne Sorilla's tone was very patronising. Poor Emily writhed among the boots. The thing I don't like in her is that she is always trying to be smart, said Miss Potter decidedly. She says clever things she has read in books and passes them off as her own. Emily outraged.

Starting point is 01:50:48 I don't! and she's very sarcastic and touchy, and of course as proud as Lucifer, concluded Miss Potter. Mrs. Anne Cerella laughed pleasantly and tolerantly again. Oh, that goes without saying in a Murray. But their worst fault is that they think nobody can do anything right but themselves. And Emily is full of it. Why, she even thinks she can preach better than Mr. Johnson. "'Emily, that is because I said he contradicted himself in one of his sermons, and he did.

Starting point is 01:51:23 "'And I've heard you criticise dozens of sermons, Mrs. Anne Sorilla.' "'She's jealous, too,' continued Mrs. Anne Sorilla. "'She can't bear to be beaten. She wants to be first in everything. "'I understand she actually shed tears of mortification the night of the concert "'because Ilza Burnley carried off the honours in the dialogue. Emily did very poorly. She was a perfect stick, and she contradicts older people continually. It would be funny if it weren't so ill-bred. It's odd Elizabeth doesn't cure her of that. The Murray should think their breeding is a little

Starting point is 01:52:00 above the common, said Miss Potter. Emily, wrathfully to the boots, it is too. Of course, said Mrs. Anne Sorilla, I think a great many of Emily's faults come from her intimacy with Ilza Burnley. She shouldn't be allowed to run about with Ilza as she does. Why? They say Ilza is as much an infidel as her father. I always have understood she doesn't believe in God at all. Or the devil either. Emily, which is a far worse thing in your eyes. The doctor's training her a little better now, since he found out his precious wife didn't he lope with Leo Mitchell, sniffed Miss Potter. He makes her go to Sunday school. But she's no fit associate for Emily. She swears like a trooper, I'm told. Mrs. Mark Burns was in the doctor's office one day

Starting point is 01:52:49 and heard Ilza in the parlour say distinctly out-damped spot, probably to the dog. Dear, dear, moaned Mrs. Anne Cirilla. Do you know what I saw her do one day last week? Saw her with my own eyes. Miss Potter was very emphatic over this. Anne Cirrilla need not suppose that she had been using any other person's eyes. You couldn't see. surprise me, gurgled Mrs. Anne Cirrilla. Why, they say she was at the Shariwari at Johnson's last Tuesday night dressed as a boy. Quite likely, but this happened in my own front yard. She was there with Jen Strang, who had come to get a root of my Persian rosebush for her mother. I asked Ilza if she could sew and beg, and a few other things that I thought she ought to be reminded of.

Starting point is 01:53:36 Ilza said, no to them all, quite brazenly, and then she said, what do you think that girl's said. Oh, what? wreated Mrs. Anne Cirilla eagerly. She said, can you stand on one foot and lift your other to a level with your eyes, Miss Potter? I can. And Miss Potter hushed her tone to the proper pitch of horror. She did it. The listener in the closet stifled a spasm of laughter in Cousin Jimmy's grey jumper, how madcap Ilza did love to shock Miss Potter.

Starting point is 01:54:10 "'Good gracious, were there any men around?' entreated Mrs. Anne Sorilla. "'No, fortunately, but it's my belief she would have done it just the same. "'No matter who was there. We were close to the road anybody might have been passing. "'I felt so ashamed. In my time a young girl would have died before she would have done a thing like that.' "'It's no worse than her and Emily bathing by moonlight up on the sands without a stitch on,' said Mrs. Anne-serrilla. that was the most scandalous thing. Did you hear about it? Oh yes, that story's all over, Blairwater. Everybody's heard it but Elizabeth and Laura. I can't find out how it started. Were they seen? Oh dear, no, not so bad as that.

Starting point is 01:54:57 Ilza told it herself. She seemed to think it was quite a matter of course. I think someone ought to tell Laura and Elizabeth. Tell them yourself, suggested Miss Potter. Oh no, I don't want to get it. in wrong with my neighbours? I am not responsible for Emily Starr's training, thank goodness. If I were, I wouldn't let her have so much to do with Charback priest either. He's the queerest of all those queer priests. I'm sure he must have a bad influence over her. Those green eyes of his positively give me the creeps. I can't find out that he believes in anything. Emily sarcastically again. Not even the devil. There is a queer story going around about him at Emily, said Miss Potter, I can't make head or tail of it. They were seen on the Big Hill last

Starting point is 01:55:44 Wednesday evening at sunset, behaving in a most extraordinary fashion. They would walk along with their eyes fixed on the sky, then suddenly stop, grasp each other by the arm, and point upward. They did it time and again. Mrs. Price was watching them from the window, and she can't imagine what they were up to. It was too early for stars, and she couldn't see a solitary thing in the sky. She laid awake all night wondering about it. "'Well, it all comes to this, Emily Star needs looking after,' said Mrs. Anne Sorilla. "'I sometimes feel that it would be wiser to stop Muriel and Gladys from going about so much with her.' "'Emily, devoutly, I wish you would. They are so stupid and silly, and they just stick around Ilzami all the time.'

Starting point is 01:56:30 "'When all he said and done, I pity her,' said Miss Potter. "'She's so foolish and high-minded that she'll get in wrong with every one. and no decent sensible man will ever be bothered with her. Jeff North says he went home with her once, and that was enough for him. Emily emphatically, I believe you. Jeff showed almost human intelligence in that remark. But then she probably won't live through her teens. She looks very consumptive.

Starting point is 01:56:59 Really, Anne Cyrilla, I do feel sorry for the poor thing. This was the proverbial last straw for Emily. She, whole star and half-marry, to be pitied by Bula Potter. Mother Hubbard or no Mother Hubbard, it could not be born. The closet door suddenly opened wide and Emily stood revealed, Mother Hubbard and all, against a background of boots and jumpers. Her cheeks were crimson, her eyes black. The mouths of Mrs. Anne Cyrilla and Miss Bula Potter fell open and stayed open.

Starting point is 01:57:33 Their faces turned dull red. They were dumb. Emily looked at them steadily for a minute of scornful, eloquent silence. Then, with the air of a queen, she swept across the kitchen and vanished through the sitting-room door, just as Aunt Elizabeth came up the sandstone steps with dignified apologies for keeping them waiting. Miss Potter and Mrs. Anne Sorilla were so dumbfounded that they were hardly able to talk about the ladies' aid and got themselves confusedly away after a few jerky questions and answers. until Elizabeth did not know what to make of them and thought there must have been unreasonably offended over having to wait.

Starting point is 01:58:11 Then she dismissed the matter from her mind. A Murray did not care what potters thought or did. The open closet door told no tales, and she did not know that up in the lookout chamber, Emily was lying face downward across the bed, crying passionately for shame and anger and humiliation. She felt degraded and hurt. It had all been the outcome of her own silly vanity in the beginning. she acknowledged that, but her punishment had been too severe. She did not mind so much what Miss Potter had said,

Starting point is 01:58:42 but Mrs. Anne Cirilla's tiny barbs of malice did sting. She had liked pretty pleasant Mrs. Anne Sorilla, who had always seemed kind and friendly and had paid her many compliments. She had thought Mrs. Anne Sorilla had really liked her, and now to find out that she would talk about her like this. Couldn't they have said one good thing of her? me, she sobbed. Oh, I feel soiled somehow. Between my own silliness and their malice, and all dirty, and messed up mentally, will I ever feel clean again? She did not feel clean until she had written

Starting point is 01:59:22 it all out in her diary. Then she took a less distorted view of it and summoned philosophy to her aid. Mr. Carpenter says, we should make every experience teach us something, she wrote. He says every experience, no matter whether it is pleasant or unpleasant, has something for us if we are able to view it dispassionately. That, he added bitterly, is one of the pieces of good advice I have kept by me all my life and never been able to make any use of myself. Very well, I shall try to view this dispassionately. I suppose the way to do it is to consider all that was said of me and decide just what was true and what false. and what merely distorted, which is worse than the false, I think. To begin with, hiding in the closet at all, just out of vanity, comes under my heading of bad

Starting point is 02:00:18 deeds, and I suppose that appearing as I did after I had stay there so long and covering them with confusion was another. But if so, I can't feel it dispassionately yet, because I am sinfully glad I did it. Yes, even if they did see me in the Mother Hubbard. I have shall never forget their faces, especially Mrs. Anne Serrillas. Miss Potter won't worry over it long. She will say it served me right, but Mrs. Anne Cirrilla will never, to her dying day, get over being found out like that. Now for a review of their criticisms of Emily Bird Star, and the decision as to whether said Emily Bird Star deserved the said criticisms wholly or in part. Be honest now, Emily. look then into thy heart and try to see yourself, not as Miss Potter sees you or as you see yourself,

Starting point is 02:01:11 but as you really are. I think I'm going to find this interesting. In the first place, Mrs. Anne Cerella said I was peg-headed. Am I pig-headed? I know I am determined, and Aunt Elizabeth says I am stubborn, but pig-headedness is worse than either of those. determination is a good quality, and even stubbornness has a saving grace in it, if you have a little gumption as well. But a pig-headed person is one who is too stupid to see or understand the foolishness of a certain course and insists on taking it, insists, in short, on running full tilts into a stone wall. No, I am not pig-headed. I accept stone walls. But I take a good deal of convincing that there are stone walls and not cargo. board imitations. Therefore, I am a little stubborn. Miss Potter said I was a flirt. This is wholly

Starting point is 02:02:08 untrue, so I won't discuss it. But she also said I made eyes. Now do I? I don't mean to. I know that, but it seems you can make eyes without being conscious of it. So how am I going to prevent that? I can't go about all the days of my life with my eyes dropped down. Dean said the other day, When you look at me like that star, there is nothing for me but to do as you ask. And Aunt Elizabeth was quite annoyed last week because she said I was looking improperly at Perry

Starting point is 02:02:38 when I was co-axing him to go to the Sunday school picnic. Perry hate Sunday school picnics. Now, in both cases, I thought I was only looking beseechingly. Mrs. Anne Cyrilla said I wasn't pretty. Is that true? Emily lay down her pen, went over to the mirror and took a dispassionate stock of her looks. Black of hair, smoke purple of eye, crimson of lip. So far, not bad.

Starting point is 02:03:05 Her forehead was too high, but the new way of doing her hair obviated that defect. Her skin was very white, and her cheeks, which had been so pale in childhood, were now as delicately hued as a pink pearl. Her mouth was too large, but her teeth were good. Her slightly pointed ears gave her a form like charm. Her neck had lines that she could not help liking. Her slender, immature figure was graceful. She knew, for Aunt Nancy had told her,

Starting point is 02:03:33 that she had the shipply ankle and in step. Emily looked very earnestly at Emily and the glass from several angles and returned to her diary. I have decided that I'm not pretty, she wrote. I think I look quite pretty when my hair is done a certain way, but a really pretty girl would be pretty no matter how her hair was done. So Mrs. Anne Cirrilla was right. But I feel sure that I am not so plain as she implied either.

Starting point is 02:04:02 And she said I was sly and deep. I don't think it is any fault to be deep, though she spoke as if she thought it was. I would rather be deep than shallow. But am I sly? No, I'm not. Then what is it about me that makes me? makes people think I am sly. Aunt Ruth always insists that I am. I think it is because I have a

Starting point is 02:04:26 habit when I'm bored or disgusted with people of stepping suddenly into my own world and shutting the door. People resent this, I suppose it is only natural to resent a door being shut in your face. They call it slitheness when it is only self-defense. So I won't worry over that. Miss Potter said an abominable thing, that I passed off clever speeches I had read in books as my own, trying to be smart. That is utterly false. Honestly, I never try to be smart. But I do try often to see how a certain thing I've thought out sounds when it is put into words. Perhaps this is a kind of showing off. I must be careful about it. Jealous. No, I'm not that. I do like to be first, I admit, but it wasn't because I was jealous of Ilsa that I cried that night at the concert. I

Starting point is 02:05:19 I cried because I felt I had made a mess of my part. I was a stick, just as Mrs. Anne Serrilla said. I can't act a part somehow. Sometimes a certain part seems to suit me, and then I can be it. But if not, I'm no good in a dialogue. I only went in to oblige Mrs. Johnson, and I felt horribly mortified because I knew she was disappointed. And I suppose my pride suffered a bit, but I never thought of being jealous of Yelza.

Starting point is 02:05:45 I was proud of her. She does magnificently in a play. yes i contradict i admit that is one of my faults but people do say such outrageous things and why isn't it as bad for people to contradict me they do it continually and i am right just as often as they are sarcastic yes i'm afraid that is another of my faults touchy no i'm not i'm only sensitive and proud well yes i am a little proud i am a little proud but not nearly as proud as people think me. I can't help carrying my head at a certain angle, and I can't help feeling it is a great thing to have a century of good, upright people

Starting point is 02:06:29 with fine traditions and considerable brains behind you. Not like the potters, upstart of yesterday. Oh, how those women garbled things about poor Ilza. We couldn't, I suppose, expect a potter, or the wife of a potter, to recognise the sleepwalking scene from Lady Macbeth. I've told Ilza repeatedly that she ought to see that all doors are shut when she tries it over. She is quite wonderful in it.

Starting point is 02:06:54 She never was at that Shari Vari. She only said she'd like to go. And as for the moonlight bathing, that was true enough, except that we had some stitches on. There was nothing dreadful about it. It was perfectly beautiful, though now it is all spoiled and degraded by being dragged about in common gossip. I wish I'dza hadn't told about it. we had gone away up the sand-shore for a walk it was a moonlit night and the sand-shore was wonderful the wind woman was rustling in the grasses on the dunes and there was a long gentle wash of little gleaming waves on the shore we wanted to bathe but at first we thought we couldn't because we didn't have our bathing dresses so we sat on the sands and talked of a hundred things it was real conversation not just talk

Starting point is 02:07:40 the great gulf stretched out before us silvery gleaming alluring going farther and farther into the mists of the northern sky it was like an ocean in fairy lands forlorn i said i would like to get into a ship and sail straight out there out out where would i land anticastia i expect said ilza a bit too prosaically i thought no no ultimatouli i think i said dreamily, some beautiful unknown shore where the rain never falls and the wind never blows. Perhaps the country back of the north wind where diamond went, one could sail to it over that silver sea on a night like this. That was heaven, I think, said Ilza. Then we talked about immortality, and Ilza said that she was afraid of it, afraid of living forever and forever. She said she was sure she would get awfully tired of herself. I said I thought I liked Dean's idea of a succession of lives. I can't make out from him whether he really believes that or not.

Starting point is 02:08:43 And Ilza said that might be all very well if you were sure of being born again as a decent person, but how about if you weren't? Well, you have to take some risk in any kind of immortality, I said Ilsa. Whether I am myself or somebody else next time, I do hope I won't have such a dreadful temper. If I just go on being myself, I'll smash my harp and tear my halo to pieces and pull all the feathers out of the other angel's wings half an hour after getting to heaven. You know I will, Emily. I can't help it. I had a fiendish quarrel with Perry yesterday again. It was all my fault, but of course he vexed me by his boasting. I wish I could control my temper. I don't mind ills as rage as one bit now. I know she never means anything she says in them.

Starting point is 02:09:29 I never say anything back. I just smile at her, and if I have a bit of paper handy, I jot down the things she says. This infuriates her so that she chokes with anger and can't say anything more. At all other times, Ilsa is a darling and such good fun. You can't control your rages because you like going into them, I said. I'ller stared at me. I don't. I don't. You do.

Starting point is 02:09:55 You enjoy them, I insisted. Well, of course, said Iilsa grinning, I do have a good time while they're lost. It's awfully satisfying to say the most insults. things and call the worst names. I believe you're right, Emily. I do enjoy them. Queer I've never thought of it. I suppose if I really were unhappy in them, I wouldn't go into them. But after they're over, I'm so remorseful. I cried for an hour yesterday after fighting with Perry. Yes, and you enjoyed that too, didn't you? Gilda reflected. I guess so, Emily. You're an uncanny thing. I won't talk about it anymore. Let's go bathing. No dresses. What does it matter? There isn't a soul for miles.

Starting point is 02:10:38 I can't resist those waves. They're cooling me. I felt just as she did and bathing by moonlight seemed such a lovely romantic thing. And it is when the potters of the world don't know of it. When they do, they smudge it. We undressed in a little hollow among the dunes that was like a bowl of silver in the moonlight. But we kept our petticoats on. We had the loveliest time splashing and swimming about in that silver blue water and those creamy little waves like mermaids or sea nymphs. It was like living in a poem or a fairy tale. And when we came out, I held out my hands to Ilza and said, Come unto these yellow sands curteed when we have and kissed. The wild winds whist, foot it featly here and there, and sweet sprites the burden bare. Ilesa took my hands and we

Starting point is 02:11:28 danced in rings over the moonlit sands, and then we went up to the silver bowl and dressed and went home perfectly happy. Only, of course, we had to carry our wet petticoats rolled up under our arms, so we looked rather slinky, but nobody saw us. And that is what Blair Water is so scandalised about. All the same. I hope Aunt Elizabeth won't hear of it. It is too bad, Mrs. Price lost so much sleep over Dean and me. We were not performing any weird incantations. We were simply walking over the delectable mountain and tracing pictures in the clouds. Perhaps it was childish, but it was great fun. That is one thing I like about Dean, he isn't afraid of doing something harmless and pleasant, just because it's childish.

Starting point is 02:12:08 One cloud he pointed out to me looked exactly like an angel flying along the pale, shining sky and carrying a baby in its arms. There was a filmy blue veil over its head with a faint first star gleaming through it. Its wings were tipped with gold, and its white robe flecked with crimson. There goes the angel of the evening star with tomorrow in its arms, said Dean. It was so beautiful that it gave me one of my wonder moments. But ten seconds later it had changed into something that looked like a camel with an exaggerated hump.

Starting point is 02:12:41 We had a wonderful half-hour, even if Mrs. Price, who couldn't see anything in the sky, did think us quite mad. Well, it all comes to this. There's no use trying to live in other people's opinions. The only thing to do is to live in your own. After all, I believe in myself. I'm not so bad and silly as they think me, and I'm not consumptive, and I can write.

Starting point is 02:13:05 Now that I've written it all out, I feel differently about it. The only thing that still aggravates me is that Miss Potter pitied me. Pityed by a Potter! I looked out of my window just now and saw cousin Jimmy's nasturtian bed, and suddenly the flash came, and Miss Potter and her. pity and her malicious tongue seemed to matter not at all. Mr. Shams, who colored you, you wonderful glowing things. You must have been fashioned out of summer sunsets. I help cousin Jimmy a great deal with his garden this summer. I think I love it as much as he does.

Starting point is 02:13:40 Every day we make new discoveries of bud and bloom. So Aunt Elizabeth won't send me to Shrewsbury. Oh, I feel as disappointed as if I'd really hoped she would. Every door of you. Every door life seems shut to me. Still, after all, I've lots to be thankful for. Aunt Elizabeth will let me go to school another year here, I think, and Mr. Carpenter can teach me heaps yet. I'm not hideous. Moonlight is still a fair thing. I'm going to do something with my pen someday. And I've got a lovely grey moon-faced cat who has just jumped up on my table and poked my pen with his nose as a signal that I've written enough for one sitting. The only real cat is a grey cat. End of Chapter 4.

Starting point is 02:14:27 Recording by Rachel May Ferryman. Chapter 5 of Emily Climes. This is LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Eleonora Bettenzoli, Milan. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. half a loaf.

Starting point is 02:15:02 One late August evening, Emily heard Teddy's signal whistle from the Tomorrow Road and slipped out to join him. He had news that was evident from his shining eyes. Emily, he cried excitedly. I'm going to Shrewsbury, after all.

Starting point is 02:15:23 Mother told me this evening she has made up her mind to let me go. Emily was glad. with a clear sorriness underneath, for which she reproached herself. How lonesome it would be at New Moon when her three old pals were gone. She had no realized until that moment how much she had counted on Teddy's companionship. It had always been there in the background of her thoughts of the coming year. she had always taken Teddy for granted.

Starting point is 02:16:02 Now there would be nobody, not even Dean, for Dean was going away for the winter as usual, to Egypt or Japan, as he might decide at the last moment. What would she do? Would all the Jimmy books in the world take the place of her flesh and blood charms? If you were only going to, said Teddy,

Starting point is 02:16:27 as they walked along the tomorrow road, which was almost a today road now, so fast and so tall, had the leafy young maples grown. There's no use wishing it. Don't speak of it. It makes me unhappy, said Emily jerkly. Well, we'll have weekends anyhow.

Starting point is 02:16:50 And it's you, I have to thank for going. It was what you said to mother that night, in the graveyard that made her let me go. I know she's been thinking of it ever since, by things she would say every once in a while. One day last week I heard her muttering. It's awful to be a mother. Awful to be a mother and suffer like this.

Starting point is 02:17:20 Yet she called me selfish. And another time she said, Is it selfish to want to keep the only thing you have left in the world? But she was lovely tonight when she told me I could go. I know folks say mother isn't quite right in her mind, and sometimes she is a little queer. But it's only when other people are around. You have no idea, Emily, how nice and dear she is when we are alone.

Starting point is 02:17:53 I hate to leave her. but I must get some education. I'm very glad if what I said had made her change her mind, but she will never forgive me for it. She has hated me ever since. You know she has. You know how she looks at me whenever I am at Tancy Patch. She's very polite to me, but her eyes, Teddy.

Starting point is 02:18:22 I know, said Teddy, uncomfortably. But don't be hard on mother, Emily. I'm sure she wasn't always like that, though she has been ever since I can remember. I don't know anything of her before that. She never tells me anything. I don't know anything about my favala. She won't talk about him. I don't even know how she got that scar on her face. I don't think. there's anything the matter with your mother's mind really said Emily slowly but I think there's something troubling always troubling it something she can't forget or throw off Teddy I'm sure your mother is haunted of course I don't mean by a ghost or

Starting point is 02:19:20 anything silly like that but by some terrible thought. She isn't happy, I know, said Teddy. And of course, we are poor. Mother said tonight, she could only send me to Shrewsbury for three years. That was all she could afford. But that will give me a start. I'll get on somehow after that.

Starting point is 02:19:48 I know I can. I'll make it up to her yet. you will be a great artist some day said emily they had come to the end of the tomorrow road before them was the pond pasture whitened over with a drift of daisies farmers hate the daisies as a pestiferous weed but a field white with them on a summer twilight is a vision from the land of lost delight. Beneath them blare water shone like a great golden lily. Up on the eastern hill, the little disappointed house crouched amid its shadows,

Starting point is 02:20:44 dreaming, perhaps, or the false bride that had never come to it. There was no light at the tansy patch. It was lonely, Mrs. Kent crying there in the darkness with only her secret, tormenting heart, hunger for companion. Emily was looking at the sunset sky, her eyes wrapped, her face pale and seeking. She felt no longer blue or depressed. Somehow she never could feel that way long in Teddy's company. In all the world, there was no music like his voice.

Starting point is 02:21:29 All good things seemed suddenly possible with him. She could not go to Shrewsbury, but she could work and study at New Moon. Oh, how she would work and study. Another year will Mr. Comptor, would do a great deal for her, as much as Shrewsbury, perhaps. She too had her.

Starting point is 02:21:54 alpine path to climb. Should climb it, no matter what the obstacles in the way, no matter whether there was anyone to help her or not. When I am, I'll thank you just as you are looking now, said Teddy, and call it Joan of Arc, with a phase-old spirit, listening to her voices. In spite of her voices, Emily went to bed that night feeling rather down, hearted and walked in the morning with an unaccountable conviction that some good news was coming to her. That day, a conviction that did not lessen as the hours to pass by in the commonplace fashion of Saturday hours at New Moon, busy hours in which the house was made immaculate for Sunday and the pantry replenished. It was a cool, damp day when the fox were

Starting point is 02:22:58 coming up from the shore on the east wind, and new moon and its old garden were veiled in mist. At twilight, a thin gray rain began to fall, and still the good news had not come. Emily had just finished scurring. The brass candlesticks and composing a poem called Rain Song. Simultaneously, when Aunt Laura told her that Aunt Elizabeth wanted to see her and the Parla. Emily's recollections of Parla interviews with Aunt Elizabeth were not especially pleasant. She could not recall any recent deed done or left undone, which would justify the summons. yet she walked into the parlour quackingly whatever aunt elizabeth was going to say to her it must have some special significance or it would not be said in the parlour

Starting point is 02:24:03 this was just one of old elizabeth's little ways duffy her big cat slipped in beside her like a noiseless grey shadow she hoped aunt elizabeth would not should not should him out. His present was a certain comfort. A cat is a good backer when he is on your side. Aunt Elizabeth was knitting. She looked solemn, but not offended or angry. She ignored Duff, but thought that Emily seemed very tall in the old stately twilight Rome. How quickly children grew up, it seemed but the other day, since Fair Pretty Juliet Elizabeth Moray, shut her thoughts off with a click. Sit down, Emily, she said. I want to have a talk with you.

Starting point is 02:25:03 Emily sat down. So did Duffy, writhing his tale comfortably about his pose. Emily suddenly felt that her hands were clammy and her mouth dry. She wished that she had knitting to. It was nasty to sit there, unoccupied, and wonder what was coming. What did come was the one thing she had never thought of.

Starting point is 02:25:32 Aunt Elizabeth, after knitting a deliberate round on her stocking, said directly. Emily, would you like to go to Shrewsbury next week? Go to Shrewsbury? Had she heard right? Oh, Aunt Elizabeth, she said. I have been talking the matter over with your uncles and aunts, said Aunt Elizabeth. They agree with me that you should have some further education. It would be a considerable expense, of course.

Starting point is 02:26:05 No, don't interrupt. I don't like interruptions. But Ruth will board you for half-price as her contribution to your upbringing, Emily. I will not be interrupted. Your uncle Oliver will pay the other half. Your uncle Wallace will provide your books, and I will see to your clothes. You will, of course, help your aunt Ruth about the house in every way possible

Starting point is 02:26:37 as some return for her kindness. You may go to Shrewsbury for three years on a certain condition. What was the condition? Emily, who wanted to dance and sing and laugh through the old parlour, as no Mary, not even her mother, had ever ventured to dance and laugh before, constrained herself to sit rigidly on her ottoman and ask herself that question. Behind her suspense, she felt that the moment was quite dramatic. Three years at Shrewsbury? Aunt Elizabeth went on, will do as much for you as three at Queen's except, of course, that you don't get a T.J.'s license, which doesn't matter in your case,

Starting point is 02:27:28 as you are not under the necessity of working for your living. But, as I have said, there is a condition. Why didn't Aunt Elizabeth name the condition? Emily felt that the suspense was unendurable. could it be possible that aunt elizabeth was a little afraid to name it it was not like her to talk for time was it so very terrible you must promise said old elizabeth sternly that for the three years you are at shrewsbury you will give up entirely this writing nonsense of yours entirely except in so far a school composition may be required. Emily sat very still and cold.

Starting point is 02:28:26 No Shrewsbury on the one hand. On the other, no more poems, no more stories and studies, no more delightful Jimmy books of Miss Lanny. She did not take more than one instant to make up her mind. I can't promise that Aunt Elizabeth, she said resolutely. Aunt Elizabeth dropped her knitting in amazement. She had not expected this.

Starting point is 02:28:58 She had thought Emily was so sad on going to Shrewsbury that she would do anything that might be asked of her in order to go, especially such a trifling thing as this, which, so Aunt Elizabeth thought, involved only. a surrender or stubbornness. Do you mean to say, you won't give up your foolish scribbling? For the sake of the education, you have always pretended to want so much, she demanded. Not that I won't.

Starting point is 02:29:33 It's just that I can't, said Emily, despairingly. She knew Aunt Elizabeth could not understand. Aunt Elizabeth never had understood this. I can't help writing, Aunt Elizabeth. It's in my blood. There's no use in asking me. I do want an education. It isn't a pretending, but I can't give up my writing to get it. I couldn't keep such a promise. So, what use would there be in making it? Then you can stay home, said Aunt Elizabeth angrily.

Starting point is 02:30:11 Emily expected to see her get up and walk out of the room. Instead, Aunt Elizabeth picked up her stocking and ruthfully resumed her knitting. To tell the truth, Aunt Elizabeth was absurdly taken her back. She really wanted to send Emily to Shrewsbury. Tradition required so much of her and all the clan were of opinion she should be sent. This condition had been her own idea. She thought it a good chance to break Emily of a silly, unmarry-like habit of wasting time and paper, and she had never doubted that her plan would succeed,

Starting point is 02:30:59 for she knew how much Emily wanted to go. And now this senseless, un reasoning, ungrateful obstinacy, the star coming out, thought on to Elizabeth rancorously, forgetful of the sheeply narritants. What was to be done? She knew too well

Starting point is 02:31:21 from past experience that there would be no moving Emily once she had taken up a position and she knew that Wallace and Oliver and Roche though they thought Emily's craze for writing as silly and untraditional as she did

Starting point is 02:31:38 would not back her Elizabeth up in her demand. Elizabeth Murray forso a complete right-about face before her, and Elizabeth Murray did not like the prospect. She could have shaken, with a right goodwill, the slim, pale thing, sitting before her on the ottoman. The creature was so slight and young and indomitable. For over three years, Elizabeth Murray had tried to cure Emily of this foolishness of writing, and for over three years she, who had never failed in anything before, had failed in this. One couldn't starve her into submission, and nothing short of it would seem to be efficacious. Elizabeth knitted furiously in her vexation, and Emily,

Starting point is 02:32:37 sat motionless, struggling with her bitter disappointment and sense of injustice. She was determined she would not cry before Aunt Elizabeth, but it was hard to keep the tears back. She wished Duff wouldn't purr with such resounding satisfaction, as if everything were perfectly delicious from a greyish cat's point of view. She wished Aunt Elizabeth would tell her to go, but Aunt Elizabeth only nicked it furiously and said nothing. It all seemed rather nightmarish.

Starting point is 02:33:18 The wind was rising and the rain began to drive against the pain, and the dead and gone Maury's looked down, accusingly from their dark frames. They had no sympathy with flashes and jimpses, and Jimmy books and alpine paths with the pursuit of unwon alluring divinities. Yet Emily couldn't help thinking, under all her disappointment, what an excellent setting it would make for some tragic scene in a novel.

Starting point is 02:33:54 The door opened, and cousin Jimmy slipped in. Cousin Jimmy knew what was in the wind and had been coolly and deliberately listening outside the door. He knew Emily would never promise such a thing. He had told Elizabeth, so at the Family Council ten days before, he was only simple Jimmy Murray, but he understood what sensible Elizabeth Murray could not understand. What is wrong? he asked, looking from one to the other.

Starting point is 02:34:28 Nothing is wrong, said Aunt Elizabeth Houtly. I have offered Emily an education, and she has refused it. She is free to do so, of course. No one can be free who has a thousand ancestors, said Cousin Jimmy in the eerie tone in which he generally said such things. It always made Elizabeth Shiva. she could never forget that his eerieness was her fault. Emily can promise what you want.

Starting point is 02:35:08 Can you Emily? No, in spite of herself, a couple of big tears rolled down Emily's cheeks. If you could, said cousin Jimmy, you would promise it for me, wouldn't you? Emily nodded. You have asked too much. Elizabeth, said causing Jimmy to the angry lady of the knitting needles. You have asked her to give up all her writing now. If you'd just asked her to give up some, Emily,

Starting point is 02:35:46 what if she asked you to give up some? You might be able to do that, mightn't you? What, some, asked Emily cautiously. Well, anything that wasn't true, for instance, cousin Jimmy, sidled over to Emily and put a basic-aching hand on her shoulder. Elizabeth did not stop knitting, but the needles went more slowly.

Starting point is 02:36:17 Stories, for instance, Emily. She doesn't like your writing stories especially. She thinks they are lies. She doesn't mind other things so much. Don't you think, Emily, you could give up writing stories for three years? An education is a great thing. Your grandmother, Archibald, would have lived on herring tales to get an education. Many a time I've heard her say,

Starting point is 02:36:48 Come, Emily. Emily thought rapidly. She loved writing stories. It would be a hard thing. to give them up. But if she could still write airborne fences in verse

Starting point is 02:37:06 and weird little Jimmy book sketches of character and accounts of everyday events, witty, satirical, tragic, as the humor took her, she might be able to get along. Try her, try her, whispered causing Jimmy,

Starting point is 02:37:28 propitiate her a little you do owe her a great deal emily meet her half-way and elizabeth said emily tremulously if you will send me to shrewsbury i promise you that for three years i won't write anything that isn't true Will that, though? Because it's all, I can promise. Elizabeth knitted two rounds before deigning to reply. Cousin Jimmy and Emily thought she was not going to reply at all. Suddenly she folded up her knitting and rose. Very well, I will let it go at that.

Starting point is 02:38:22 It is, of course, your stories I object to most. As for the rest, I fancy Ruth. will see to it that you have not much time to waste on it. Aunt Elizabeth swept out, much relieved in her secret heart, that she had not been utterly rooted, but had been enabled to retreat from a perplexing position with some of the honours of war. Cousin Jimmy patted Emily's black head.

Starting point is 02:38:53 That's good, Emily. Mustn't be too stubborn, you know. and three years isn't a lifetime percy no but it seems like one at fourteen emily cried herself to sleep when she went to bed and walked again at three by the clock of that windy dark gray night on the old north shore rose lighted a candle sat down at her table and described the whole scene in her jimmy book being exceedingly careful to write therein no word that was not strictly true. End of Chapter 5. Half a lot. Chapter 6. Emily Climbs. This is a Libravox recording.

Starting point is 02:39:50 All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visitlibravox.org. Recording by Nancy Halper, Summit, New Jersey. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Chapter 6. Shrewsbury Beginnings Teddy and Ilsa and Perry whooped for joy when Emily told them she was going to Shrewsbury. Emily, thinking it over, was reasonably happy.

Starting point is 02:40:19 The great thing was she was going to high school. She did not like the idea of boarding with Aunt Ruth. This was unexpected. She had supposed Aunt Ruth would never be willing to have her about, and that if Anne Elizabeth did decide to send her to Shrewsbury, she would board elsewhere, probably with Ilsa. Certainly she would have greatly preferred this. She knew quite well that life would not be very easy under Aunt Ruth's roof, and then she must write no more stories. To feel within her the creative urge and be forbidden to express it,

Starting point is 02:40:49 to tingle with delight in the conception of humorous or dramatic characters, and be forbidden to bring them into existence, to be suddenly seized with the idea of a capital plot, and realize immediately afterward that you couldn't develop it. All this was a torture which no one who has not been born with the fatal itch for writing can realize. The Aunt Elizabeth's of the world can never understand it. To them, it is merely foolishness. Those last two weeks of August were busy ones at New Moon. Elizabeth and Laura held long conferences over Emily's clothes. She must have an outfit that would cast no discredit on the Murray's, but common sense and not fashion was to

Starting point is 02:41:31 give the casting vote. Emily herself had no say in the matter. Laura and Elizabeth argued from noon to Dewey Eve one day as to whether Emily might have a taffeta silk blouse, Ilsa had three, and decided against it much to Emily's disappointment. But Laura had her way in regard to what she dared not call an evening dress, since the name would have doomed it in Elizabeth's opinion. It was a very pretty crepe thing, of a pinkish gray, the shade, I think, which was then called Ashes of Roses, and was made colorless, a great concession on Elizabeth's part, with the big, puffed sleeves that look very absurd today, but which, like every other fashion, were pretty and pecan't when worn by the youth and beauty of their time. It was the prettiest dress Emily had ever

Starting point is 02:42:21 had, and the longest, which meant much in those days, when you could not be grown up until you had put on long dresses. It came to her pretty ankles. She put it on one evening when Laura and Elizabeth were away because she wanted Dean to see her in it. He had come up to spend the evening with her. He was off the next day, having decided on Egypt, and they walked in the garden. Emily felt quite old and sophisticated because she had to lift her shimmering skirt clear of the ribbon grasses. She had a little pink scarf wound around her head and looked more like a star than ever, Dean thought. The cats were in attendance, Daffy, sleek and striped, saucy Sal, who still reigned supreme in the New Moon Barnes. Cats might come and cats might go, but saucy Sal went on forever. They frisked over the grass

Starting point is 02:43:11 plots and pounced on each other from flowery jungles and rolled insinuatingly around Emily's feet. Dean was going to Egypt, but he knew that nowhere, even among the strange charm of forgotten empires, would he see anything he liked better than the pretty picture Emily and her little cats made in the prim, stately, scented old garden of New Moon? They did not talk as much as usual, and the silences did queer things to both of them. Dean had one or two mad impulses to throw up the trip to Egypt and stay home for the winter. Go to Shrewsbury, perhaps. He shrugged his shoulders and laughed at himself. This child did not need his looking after. The ladies of New Moon were competent guardians. She was only a child yet, in spite of her slim height and

Starting point is 02:43:58 her unfathomable eyes. But how perfect the white line of her throat, how kissable the sweet red curve of her mouth. She would be a woman soon, but not for him, not for lame jarback priest of her father's generation. For the hundredth time Dean told himself that he was not not going to be a fool. He must be content with what fate had given him, the friendship and affection of this exquisite, starry creature. In the years to come, her love would be a wonderful thing. For some other man. No doubt, thought Dean cynically, she would waste it on some good-looking young mannequin who wasn't half-worthy of it. Emily was thinking how dreadfully she was going to miss Dean, more than she had ever missed him before. They had been such good pals that summer.

Starting point is 02:44:46 She had never had a talk with him, even if it were only for a few minutes, without feeling that life was richer. His wise, witty, humorous, satiric sayings were educative. They stimulated, stung, inspired her, and his occasional compliments gave her self-confidence. He had a certain strange fascination for her that no one else in the world possessed. She felt it, though she could not analyze it. Teddy now, she knew perfectly well why she liked Teddy. It was just because of his teddiness. And Perry. Perry was a jolly, sunburned, outspoken, boastful rogue you couldn't help liking.

Starting point is 02:45:26 But Dean was different. Was his charm the allure of the unknown, of experience, of subtle knowledge, of a mind-grown wise on bitterness, of things Dean knew that she could never know? Emily couldn't tell. She only knew that everybody tasted a little flat after Dean, even Teddy. though she liked him best. Oh yes, Emily never had any doubt at all that she liked Teddy best. And yet, Dean seemed to satisfy some part of her subtle and intricate nature that always went hungry without him. Thank you for all you've taught me, Dean, she said as they stood by the sundial.

Starting point is 02:46:05 Do you think you've taught me nothing, Star? How could I? I'm so young, so ignorant. You've taught me how to laugh without bitterness. I hope you'll never realize what a boon that is. Don't let them spoil you at Shrewsbury Star. You're so pleased overgoing that I don't want to throw cold water, but you'd be just as well off, better, here at New Moon. Dean, I want some education. Education isn't being spoon-fed with algebra and second-rate Latin. Old carpenter could teach you more and better than the college cubs male and female in Shrewsbury High School. I can't go to school anymore here, protested Emily. I'd be able to school. I'd be be all alone. All the pupils of my age are going to Queens or Shrewsbury or staying home.

Starting point is 02:46:52 I don't understand you, Dean. I thought you'd be so glad they're letting me go to Shrewsbury. I am glad, since it pleases you. Only, the lure I wished for you isn't learned in high schools, or measured by terminal exams. Whatever of worth you get at any school, you'll dig out for yourself. Don't let them make anything of you but yourself, that's all. I don't think they will. No, they won't, said Emily decidedly. I'm like Kipling's cat. I walk by my wild loan and wave my wild tail where so it pleases me. That's why the Murray's look askance at me.

Starting point is 02:47:28 They think I should only run with the pack. Oh, Dean, you'll write me often, won't you? Nobody understands like you. And you've got to be such a habit with me. I can't do without you. Emily said and meant it lightly enough, but Dean's thin face flushed darkly. They did not say goodbye.

Starting point is 02:47:45 was an old compact of theirs. Dean waved his hand at her. May every day be kind to you, he said. Emily gave him only her slow, mysterious smile. He was gone. The garden seemed very lonely in the faint blue twilight, with the ghostly blossoms of the white flocks here and there. She was glad when she heard Teddy's whistle in lofty John's bush. On her last evening at home, she went to see Mr. Carpenter and get his opinion regarding some manuscripts she had left with him for criticism. the preceding week. Among them were her latest stories, written before Aunt Elizabeth's ultimatum.

Starting point is 02:48:22 Criticism with something Mr. Carpenter could give with a right goodwill, and he never minced matters, but he was just, and Emily had confidence in his verdicts, even when he said things that raised temporary blisters on her soul. "'This love story is no good,' he said bluntly.

Starting point is 02:48:40 "'I know that it isn't what I wanted to make it,' sighed Emily. "'No story ever is.' said Mr. Carpenter. You'll never write anything that really satisfies you, that it may satisfy other people. As for love stories, you can't write them because you can't feel them. Don't try to write anything you can't feel. It will be a failure. Echoes nothing worth. This other yarn now about this old woman. It's not bad. The dialogue is clever, the climax simple and effective. And thank the Lord you've got a sense of humor. That's mainly why you're no good at love stories, I believe. Nobody with any real sense of humor can write a love story. Emily didn't see why this should be. She liked writing love stories and terribly sentimental,

Starting point is 02:49:21 tragical stories they were. Shakespeare could, she said defiantly. You're hardly in the Shakespeare class, said Mr. Carpenter dryly. Emily blushed scorchingly. I know I'm not, but you said nobody. And maintain it. Shakespeare is the exception that proves the rule, though his sense of humor was certainly in abeyance when he wrote Romeo and Juliet. However, let's come back to Emily of New Moon. This story. Well, a young person might read it without contamination. Emily knew by the inflection of Mr. Carpenter's voice that he was not praising her story. She kept silent and Mr. Carpenter went on, flicking her precious manuscripts aside irreverently. This one sounds like a weak imitation of Kipling. Been reading him lately?

Starting point is 02:50:07 Yes. I thought so. Don't try to imitate Kipling. If you must imitate, imitate Laura Jean Libby. Nothing good about this but its title. A priggish little yarn. And Hidden Riches is not a story. It's a machine. It creaks. It never made me forget for one instant that it was a story. Hence, it isn't a story. I was trying to write something very true to life, protested Emily. Ah, that's why. We all see life through an illusion, even the most disillusioned of us. That's why things aren't convincing if they're too true to life. Let me see. the Madden family, another attempt at realism, but it's only photography, not portraiture. What a lot of disagreeable things you've said, sighed Emily. It might be a nice world if nobody

Starting point is 02:50:57 ever said a disagreeable thing, but it would be a dangerous one, retorted Mr. Carpenter. You told me you wanted criticism, not taffy. However, here's a bit of taffy for you. I kept it for the last. Something different is comparatively good, and if I wasn't afraid of ruining you, I'd say it was absolutely good. Ten years from now you can rewrite it and make something of it. Yes, ten years, don't screw up your face, Jade. You have talent, and you've got a wonderful feeling for words. You get the inevitable one every time. That's a priceless thing. But you have some vile faults, too. Those cursed italics. Perswear them, Jade, forswear them. And your imagination needs a curb when you get away from realism. It's to have one now, said Emily gloomily. She told him of her

Starting point is 02:51:44 compact with Aunt Elizabeth. Mr. Carpenter nodded. Excellent. Excellent, echoed Emily blankly. Yes, it's just what you need. It will teach you restraint and economy. Stick to facts for three years and see what you can make of them. Leave the realm of imagination severely alone and confine yourself to ordinary life. There isn't any such thing as ordinary life, said Emily. Mr. Carpenter looked at her for a moment. You're right. There isn't. He said slowly. but one wonders a little how you know it. Well, go on, go on, walk in your chosen path, and thank whatever gods there be that you're free to walk it. Cousin Jimmy says, nobody can be free who has a thousand ancestors. And yet people call that man simple,

Starting point is 02:52:30 muttered Mr. Carpenter. However, your ancestors don't seem to have wished any special curse on you. They've simply laid it on you to aim for the heights, and they'll give you no peace if you don't. call it ambition, aspiration, cacowethy Scribendi, any name you will. Under its sting or a lure, one has to go on climbing until one fails or succeeds, said Emily, flinging back her dark head. Amen, said Mr. Carpenter. Emily wrote a poem that night, farewell to New Moon, and shed tears over it. She felt every line of it. It was all very well to be going to school, but to leave dear New Moon. everything at New Moon was linked with her life and thoughts was a part of her. It's not only that I love my room and trees and hills, they love me, she thought.

Starting point is 02:53:21 Her little black trunk was packed. Aunt Elizabeth had seen that everything necessary was in it, and Aunt Laura and cousin Jimmy had seen that one or two unnecessary things were in it. Aunt Laura had told Emily that she would find a pair of black lace stockings inside her strap slippers. even Laura did not dare go so far as silk stockings, and cousin Jimmy had given her three Jimmy books and an envelope with a $5 bill in it. To get anything you want with, Pussy, I'd have made it ten, but five was all Elizabeth would advance me on next month's wages. I think she suspected. Can I spend a dollar of it for American stamps, if I can find a way to get them? whispered Emily anxiously. Anything you like, repeated cousin Jimmy loyally.

Starting point is 02:54:05 though even to him it did appear an unaccountable thing that anyone should want to buy American stamps. But if dear little Emily wanted American stamps, American stamps she should have. The next day seemed rather dreamlike to Emily. The bird she heard singing rapturously in lofty John's Bush when she woke at dawn. The drive to Shrewsbury in the early crisp September morning. Aunt Ruth's cool welcome. The hours at a strange school, the organization of the prep, classes, home to supper. Surely it must all have taken more than a day. Aunt Ruth's house was at the end of a residential side street, almost out in the country. Emily thought it a very ugly house, covered as it was with gingerbread work of various kinds.

Starting point is 02:54:51 But a house with white wooden lace on its roof and its bay windows was the last word of elegance in Shrewsbury. There was no garden, nothing but a bare, prim little lawn, but one thing rejoiced Emily's eyes. behind the house was a big plantation of tall, slender fir trees, the tallest, straightest, slenderest furs she had ever seen, stretching back into long, green, gossamered vistas. Aunt Elizabeth had spent the day in Shrewsbury and went home after supper. She shook hands with Emily on the doorstep

Starting point is 02:55:23 and told her to be a good girl and do exactly as Aunt Ruth bade her. She did not kiss Emily, but her tone was very gentle for Aunt Elizabeth. Emily choked up and stood tearfully on the doorstep to watch Aunt Elizabeth out of sight. Aunt Elizabeth going back to Dear New Moon. "'Come in,' said Aunt Ruth. "'And please don't slam the door. Now, Emily never slammed doors. "'We will wash the supper dishes,' said Aunt Ruth. "'You will always do that after this. I will show you where everything is put.

Starting point is 02:55:56 I suppose Elizabeth told you I would expect you to do a few chores for your board. "'Yes,' said Emily briefly. "'She did not mind doing chores, any number of them, "'but it was Aunt Ruth's tone. "'Of course your being here will mean a great deal of extra expense for me,' "'continued Aunt Ruth. "'But it is only fair that we should all contribute something to your bringing up. "'I think, and I've always thought,

Starting point is 02:56:20 "'that it would have been much better to send you to Queens to get a teacher's license.' "'I wanted that, too,' said Emily. "'Hem. Aunt Ruth pursed her mouth. So you tell me. In that case, I don't see why Elizabeth didn't send you to Queens. She has pampered you enough in other ways, I'm sure. I would expect her to give in about this, too, if she thought you really wanted it. You will sleep in the kitchen chamber. It is warmer in winter than the other rooms.

Starting point is 02:56:46 There's no gas in it, but I could not afford to let you have gas to study by in any case. You must use candles. You can burn two at a time. I shall expect you to keep your room neat and tidy and to be here at my exact hours for meals. I am very particular about that. And there is another thing you might as well understand at once. You must not bring your friends here. I do not propose to entertain them. Not Ilsa, or Perry, or Teddy?

Starting point is 02:57:12 Well, Ilsa is a Burnley and a distant connection. She might come in once in a while. I can't have her running in at all times. For all I hear of her, she isn't a very suitable companion for you. As for the boys, certainly not. I know nothing of Teddy Kent, and you ought to be too proud to associate with Perry Miller. I'm too proud not to associate with him, retorted Emily.

Starting point is 02:57:34 Don't be pert with me, Emily. You might as well understand right away that you are not going to have things all your own way here as you had at New Moon. You have been badly spoiled, but I will not have hired boys calling on my niece. I don't know where you get your low taste from, I'm sure. Even your father seemed like a gentleman. Go upstairs and unpack your trunk. Then do your lessons.

Starting point is 02:57:56 9 o'clock. Emily felt very indignant. Even Aunt Elizabeth had never dreamed of forbidding Teddy to come to New Moon. She shut herself in her room and unpacked drearily. The room was such an ugly one. She hated it at sight. The door wouldn't shut tight. The slanting ceiling was rain-stained, and came down so close to the bed that she could touch it with her hand. On the bare floor was a large hooked mat which made Emily's eyes ache. It was not in Murray taste, nor in Ruth Dutton's taste either to be just. A country cousin of the deceased Mr. Dutton had given it to her. The center of a crude, glaring scarlet, was surrounded by scrolls of militant orange and violent green. In the corners were bunches of purple ferns and blue roses. The woodwork was painted a hideous chocolate

Starting point is 02:58:45 brown, and the walls were covered with paper of still more hideous design. The pictures were in keeping, especially a chromo of Queen Alexandra, gorgeously bedizened with jewels. hung at such an angle that it seemed the royal lady must certainly fall over on her face. Not even a chromo could make Queen Alexandra ugly or vulgar, but it came piteously near it. On a narrow chocolate shelf sat a vase filled with paper flowers that had been paper flowers for 20 years. One couldn't believe that anything could be as ugly and depressing as they were. This room is unfriendly. It doesn't want me. I can never feel at home here, said Emily. She was horribly homesick.

Starting point is 02:59:27 She wanted the new moon candlelights shining out on the birch trees, the scent of hop vines in the dew, her purring pussy cats, her own dear room full of dreams, the silences and shadows of the old garden, the grand anthems of wind and billow in the gulf, that sonorous old music she missed so much in this inland silence. She missed even the little graveyard where slept the new moon dead.

Starting point is 02:59:53 I'm not going to cry, Emily clenched her hands. Aunt Ruth will laugh at me. There's nothing in this room I can ever love. Is there anything out of it? She pushed up the window. It looked south into the fir grove, and its balsam blew into her like a caress.

Starting point is 03:00:10 To the left there was an opening in the trees like a green arched window, and one saw an enchanting little moonlit landscape through it. And it would lead in the splendor of sunset. To the right was a view of the hillside along which West Shrewsbury straggled. The hill was dotted with lights in the autumn dusk, and had a fairy-like loveliness. Somewhere nearby, there was a drowsy twittering, as of little sleepy birds swinging on a shadowy bow.

Starting point is 03:00:37 Oh, this is beautiful, breathed Emily, bending out to drink in the balsam-scented air. Father told me once that one could find something beautiful to love everywhere. I'll love this. Aunt Ruth poked her head in at the door unannounced. Emily, why did you leave that Annie Macassar crooked on the sofa in the dining room? I don't know, said Emily confusedly. She hadn't even known she had disarranged the Annie Macassar. Why did Aunt Ruth ask such a question, as if she suspected her of some dark, deep, sinister design?

Starting point is 03:01:09 Go down and put it straight. As Emily turned obediently, Aunt Ruth exclaimed, Emily Starr, put that window down at once. Are you crazy? The room is so close, pleaded Emily. You can air it in the daytime, but never have that window open after sundown. I am responsible for your health now. You must know that consumptives have to avoid night air and drafts. I'm not a consumptive, cried Emily rebelliously.

Starting point is 03:01:35 Contradict, of course. And if I were, fresh air any time is the best thing for me. Dr. Burnley says so. I hate being smothered. Young people think old people to be fools, and old people know young people to be fools. Aunt Ruth felt that the same. the proverb left nothing to be said. Go and straighten that Annie Macassar, Emily. Emily swallowed

Starting point is 03:01:57 something and went. The offending anti-McCassar was mathematically corrected. Emily stood for a moment and looked about her. Aunt Ruth's dining room was much more splendid and up-to-date than the sitting-room at New Moon where they had company meals. Hardwood floor, Wilton Rug, early English oak furniture. But it was not half as friendly as the old New Moon room, Emily thought. She She was more homesick than ever. She did not believe she was going to like anything in Shrewsbury, living with Aunt Ruth or going to school. The teachers all seemed flatten and insipid after pungent Mr. Carpenter, and there was a girl in the junior class she had hated at sight. And she had thought it would be also delightful, living in pretty Shrewsbury and going to high school.

Starting point is 03:02:44 Well, nothing ever is exactly like what you expected to be, Emily told herself in temporary pessimism as she went back to her room. Hadn't Dean told her once that he had dreamed all his life of rowing in a gondola through the canals of Venice on a moonlit night? And when he did, he was almost eaten alive by mosquitoes. Emily set her teeth as she crept into bed. I shall just have to fix my thoughts on the moonlight and romance and ignore the mosquitoes, she thought. Only Aunt Ruth does sting so. End of Chapter 6. Recording by Nancy Halper, Summit, New Jersey. Chapter 7 of Emily Climes. This is a Librevox recording. All Liebervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibreVox.org.

Starting point is 03:03:42 Recording by Ruth Maston. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery, Chapter 7. Po Pouri. September 20, 19. I have been neglecting my diary of late. One does not have a great deal of spare time at Aunt Ruth's, but it is Friday night and I couldn't go home for the weekend, so I come to my diary for comforting. I can spend only alternate weekends at New Moon. Aunt Ruth wants me every other Saturday to help house queen. We go over this house from top to bottom whether it needs it or not, as the tramp said

Starting point is 03:04:20 when he washed his face every month, and then rest from our labors for Sunday. there is a hint of frost in the air to-night i am afraid the garden at new moon will suffer aunt elizabeth will begin to think it is time to give up the cook-house for the season and move the waterloo back into the kitchen cousin jimmy will be boiling the pig's potatoes in the old orchard and reciting his poetry likely teddy and ilsa and perry who have all gone home lucky creatures will be there and daff will be prowling about but i must not think of it that way home sickness lies. I am beginning to like Shrewsbury, and Shrewsbury School, and Shrewsbury teachers, though Dean was right when he said I would not find anyone here like Mr. Carpenter. The seniors and juniors look down on the preps and are very condescending. Some of them condescended to me, but I do not think they will try it again, except Evelyn Blake, who condescends every time we meet, as we do quite often because her chum, Mary Carswell, rooms.

Starting point is 03:05:25 with Ilsa at Mrs. Adamson's boarding house. I hate Evelyn Blake. There is no doubt at all about that, and there is as little doubt that she hates me. We are instinctive enemies. We looked at each other the first time we met like two strange cats, and that was enough. I never really hated anyone before.

Starting point is 03:05:47 I thought I did, but now I know it was only dislike. Hate is rather interesting for a change. Evelyn is a junior, tall, clever, rather handsome, has long, bright, treacherous brown eyes, and talks through her nose. She has literary ambitions, I understand, and considers herself the best-dressed girl in high school. Perhaps she is, but somehow her clothes seem to make more impression on you than she does. People criticize Elsa for dressing too richly and too old, but she dominates her clothes for all that. Evelyn doesn't.

Starting point is 03:06:27 You always think of her clothes before you think of her. The difference seems to be that Evelyn dresses for other people and Ilsa dresses for herself. I must write a character sketch of her when I have studied her a little more. What a satisfaction that will be. I met her first in Ilsa's room and Mary Carswell introduced us. Evelyn looked down at me. She is a little taller being a year old.

Starting point is 03:06:52 older and said, Oh, yes, Miss Starr, I've heard my aunt, Mrs. Henry Blake, talking about you. Mrs. Henry Blake was once Miss Brownell. I looked straight into Evelyn's eyes and said, No doubt Mrs. Henry Blake painted a very flattering picture of me. Evelyn laughed, with a kind of laugh I don't like. It gives you the feeling that she's laughing at you, not at what you said. You didn't get on very well with her, did you?

Starting point is 03:07:22 "'I understand you are quite literary. What papers do you write for?' She asked the question sweetly, but she knew perfectly well that I don't write for any yet. "'The Charlottes Town Enterprise and the Shrewsbury Weekly Times,' I said with a wicked grin. "'I've just made a bargain with them. I'm going to get two cents for every news item I send, the Enterprise, and 25 cents for a society letter for the Times.' My grin worried, Evelyn. Preps aren't supposed to grin like that at juniors. It isn't done.

Starting point is 03:07:57 Oh, yes, I understand you are working for your board, she said. I suppose every little helps, but I meant real literary periodicals. The Quill? I asked with another grin. The Quill is a high school paper appearing monthly. It is edited by the members of the Skull and Owl, a literary. society to which only juniors and seniors are eligible. The contents of the quill are written by the students, and in theory any student can contribute, but in practice hardly anything is ever accepted from a prep. Evelyn is a skull and owlette, and her cousin is editor of the quill.

Starting point is 03:08:38 She evidently thought I was waxing sarcastic at her expense and ignored me for the rest of her call, except for one dear little jab when dress came up for discussion. want one of the new ties, she said. There are some sweet ones at Jones and McCallums, and they are awfully smart. The little black velvet ribbon you are wearing around your neck, Miss Star, is rather becoming, I used to wear one myself when they were in style. I couldn't think of anything clever to say and retort. I can think of clever things so easily when there is no one to say them to, so I said nothing but merely smiled very slowly and disdainfully. That seemed to annoy Evelyn more than speech, for I heard she said afterwards that

Starting point is 03:09:25 that Emily Star had a very affected smile. Note, one can do a great deal with appropriate smiles. I must study the subject carefully. The friendly smile, the scornful smile, the detached smile, the entreating smile, the common or garden grin. As for Miss Brownell, or rather Mrs. Blake. I met her on the street a few days ago. After she passed, she said something to her companion, and they both laughed. Very bad manners, I think. I like Shrewsbury, and I like school, but I shall never like Aunt Ruth's house. It has a disagreeable personality. Houses are like people, some you like and some you don't like, and once in a while there is one you love. Outside, this house is covered with frickery. I feel like getting a broom and sweeping it off.

Starting point is 03:10:24 Inside, its rooms are all square and proper and soulless. Nothing you could put into them would ever seem to belong to them. There are no nice romantic corners in it, as there are at noon moon. My room hasn't improved on acquaintance either. The ceiling oppresses me. It comes down so low over my bed and Aunt Ruth won't let me move the bed. She looked amazed when I suggested it. That bed has always been in that corner, she said, just as she might have said. The sun has always risen in the east. But the pictures are really the worst thing about this room,

Starting point is 03:11:02 chromos of the most aggravated description. Once I turned them all to the wall, and of course Aunt Ruth walked in, she never knocks, and noticed them at once. Emily, why have you meddled with the pictures. Aunt Ruth is always asking why I do this and that. Sometimes I can explain and sometimes I can't. This was one of the times I couldn't. But of course I had to answer Aunt Ruth's question. No disdainful smile would do here. Queen Alexander's dog collar gets on my nerves, I said. And Byron's expression on his deathbed at Miss Salongy hinders me from studying.

Starting point is 03:11:41 "'Emily,' said Aunt Ruth. "'You might try to show a little gratitude.' "'I wanted to say, to whom, Queen Alexandra or Lord Byron, "'but of course I didn't. "'Instead, I meekly turned all the pictures right-side out again. "'You haven't told me the real reason "'why you turned those pictures,' said Aunt Ruth sternly. "'I suppose you don't mean to tell me,

Starting point is 03:12:07 "'deep and sly, deep and sly, "'I always said you were. The very first time I saw you at Maywood, I said you were the slyest child I had ever seen. Aunt Ruth, why do you say such things to me? I said in exasperation. Is it because you love me and want me to improve or hate me and want to hurt me? Or just because you can't help it? Miss impertinence, please remember that this is my house, and you will leave my pictures alone after this. I will forgive you for meddling with them this time, but don't let it happen again.

Starting point is 03:12:45 I will find out yet your motive in turning them around, clever as you think yourself." Aunt Ruth stalked out, but I know she listened on the landing quite a while to find out if I would begin talking to myself. She's always watching me, even when she says nothing, does nothing. I know she's watching me. I feel like a little fly under a microscope. Not a word or action escapes her to-exam. criticism, and though she can't read my thoughts, she attributes thoughts to me that I never had any idea of thinking. I hate that worse than anything else. Can't I say anything good of Aunt Ruth?

Starting point is 03:13:24 Of course I can. She is honest and virtuous and truthful and industrious, and of her pantry she needeth not to be ashamed, but she hasn't any lovable virtues, and she will never give up trying to find out why I turned the pictures. She will never believe that I told her the simple truth. Of course, things might be worse, as Teddy says. It might have been Queen Victoria instead of Queen Alexandra. I have some pictures of my own pinned up that save me. Some lovely sketches of New Moon and the old orchard that Teddy made for me, and an engraving dean gave me. It is a picture in soft, dim colors around a desert well, and a train of camels passing across the sands against a black sky gemmed with stars. It is full of lure and mystery, and when I look at it,

Starting point is 03:14:14 I forget Queen Alexandra's jewelry and Lord Byron's lugubrious face, and my soul slips out, out, through a little gateway, into a great vast world of freedom and dream. Aunt Ruth asked me where I got that picture. When I told her she sniffed and said, I can't understand how you have such a liking for Jarback Priest. He's a man I have no use for. i shouldn't think she would have but if the house is ugly and my room unfriendly the land of uprightness is beautiful and saves my soul alive the land of uprightness is the fir-grove behind the house i call it that because the firs are all so exceedingly tall and slender and straight there is a pool in it veiled with ferns with a big gray boulder beside it it is reached by a little winding capricious path so narrow that only one can walk in it when i'm tired or lonely or angry or too ambitious i go there and sit for a few minutes nobody can keep an upset mind looking at those slender cross-tips against the sky i go there to study on fine evenings though aunt ruth is suspicious and thinks it is just another manifestation of my slyness soon it will be dark too early to study there and i'll be so sorry somehow my books have a meaning there they never have anywhere else

Starting point is 03:15:37 there are so many dear green corners in the land of uprightness full of the aroma of sun-steeped ferns and grassy open spaces where pale asters feather the grass swaying gently towards each other when the wind woman runs among them and just to the left of my window there is a group of tall old furs that look in moonlight or twilight like a group of witches weaving spells of sorcery when i first saw them one windy night against the red sunset with the reflection of my candle like a weird signal flame suspended in the air among their boughs the flash came for the first time in shrewsbury and i felt so happy that nothing else mattered i have written a poem about them But oh, I burn to write stories. I knew it would be hard to keep my promised Aunt Elizabeth, but I didn't know it would be so hard. Every day it seems harder. Such splendid ideas for plots pop into my mind.

Starting point is 03:16:38 Then I have to fall back on character studies of the people I know. I have written several of them. I always feel so strongly tempted to touch them up a bit, deepen the shadows, bring out the highlights a little more vividly. But I remembered that I promised Aunt Elizabeth never to write anything that wasn't true. So I stay my hand and try to paint them exactly as they are.

Starting point is 03:17:03 I have written one of Aunt Ruth, interesting but dangerous. I never leave my Jimmy book or my diary in my room. I know Aunt Ruth rummages through it when I'm out. So I always carry them in my book bag. Ilsa was up this evening, and we did our lessons together. "'Aren't Ruth frowns on this, and, to be strictly just, I don't know that she is wrong. "'Ilsa is so jolly and comical that we laugh more than we study, I'm afraid.

Starting point is 03:17:30 "'We don't do as well in class next day. "'And besides, this house disapproves of laughter.' "'Perry and Teddy, like the high school, Perry earns his lodging by looking after the furnace and grounds "'and his board by waiting on the table. "'Besides, he gets twenty-five cents an hour for doing odd job. I don't see much of him or Teddy, except in the weekend's home, for it is against the school rules for boys and girls to walk together to and from school. Lots do it, though. I had several chances, but I concluded that it would not be in keeping with New Moon traditions to break the rule.

Starting point is 03:18:08 Besides, Aunt Ruth asks me every blessed night when I come home from school, if I've walked with anybody, I think she's sometimes a little disappointed when I say no. Besides, I didn't much fancy see any of the boys who wanted to walk with me. October 20, 19 My room is full of boiled cabbage smells tonight, but I dare not open my window. Too much night air outside. I would risk it for a little while if Aunt Ruth hadn't been

Starting point is 03:18:38 in a very bad humor all day. Yesterday was my Sunday in Shrewsbury, and when we went to church I sat in the corner of the pew. I did not know that Aunt Ruth must always sit there but she thought I did it on purpose. She read her Bible all the afternoon. I felt she was reading it at me, though I couldn't imagine why.

Starting point is 03:18:59 This morning she asked me why I did it. Did what? I said in bewilderment. Emily, you know what you did. I will not tolerate this slyness. What was your motive? Aunt Ruth, I haven't the slightest idea what you mean, I said quite haughtily, for I felt I was not being treated fairly.

Starting point is 03:19:19 "'Emley! You sat in the corner of the pew yesterday just to keep me out of it. Why did you do it?' I looked down at Aunt Ruth. I am taller than she is now, and I can do it. She doesn't like it either. I was angry, and I think I had a little of the Murray look on my face. The whole thing seemed so contemptible to be making a fuss over. If I did it to keep you out of it, isn't that why?' I said as contemptuously as I felt. I picked up my book bag and stalked. to the door. There I stopped. It occurred to me that whatever the Murray's might or might not do, I was not behaving as a star should. Father wouldn't have approved my behavior, so I turned and said very politely. I should not have spoken like that, Aunt Ruth, and I beg your pardon. I didn't

Starting point is 03:20:09 mean anything by sitting in the corner. It was just because I happened to go into the pew first. I didn't know you preferred the corner. Perhaps I overdid the politeness. At any rate, my apology only seemed to irritate Aunt Ruth the more. She sniffed and said, I will forgive you this time, but don't let it happen again. Of course, I didn't expect you would tell me your reason. You are too sly for that. Aunt Ruth, Aunt Ruth, if you keep calling me sly,

Starting point is 03:20:39 you'll drive me into being sly in reality and then watch out. If I chose to be sly, I can twist you around my finger. It's only because I'm straightforward that you're, you can manage me at all. I have to go to bed every night at nine o'clock. People who are threatened with consumption require a great deal of sleep. When I come home from school, there are chores to be done, and I must study in the evenings, so I haven't a moment of time for writing anything. I know Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Ruth have had a conference on the subject, but I have to write, so I get up in the morning, as soon as it is daylight, dress and put on a coat. For the mornings are cold now. Sit down and scribble for a

Starting point is 03:21:23 priceless hour. I didn't choose that Aunt Ruth should discover it and call me sly, so I told her I was doing it. She gave me to understand that I was mentally unsound and would make a bad end in some asylum, but she didn't actually forbid me, probably because she thought it would be of no use. It wouldn't. I've got to write, and that is all there is to it. That hour in the gray morning is the most delightful one in the day for me. Lately, being forbidden to write stories, I've been thinking them out. But one day it struck me that I was breaking my compact with Aunt Elizabeth in spirit, if not in letter. So I have stopped it.

Starting point is 03:22:05 I wrote a character study of Ilsa today. Very fascinating. It is difficult to analyze her. She is so different and unexpected. I coined that word myself. She doesn't even get mad like anybody else. I enjoy her tantrums. She doesn't say so many awful things in them as she used to,

Starting point is 03:22:25 but she is piquant. Pequant is a new word for me. I like using a new word. I never think I really own a word until I've spoken or written it. I am writing by my window. I love to watch the Shrewsbury lights twinkle out in the dusk over that long hill. I had a letter from Dean today. He is in Egypt, among Rewsbury.

Starting point is 03:22:46 ruins shrines of old gods and the tombs of old kings. I saw that strange land through his eyes. I seemed to go back with him through the old centuries. I knew the magic of its skies. I was Emily of Carnac or Thieves, not Emily of Shrewsbury at all. This is a trick Dean has. Aunt Ruth insisted on seeing his letter, and when she read it, she said it was impious. I should never have thought of that adjective. october twenty one nineteen i climbed the steep little wooded hill in the land of uprightness to-night and had an exultation on its crest there's always something satisfying in climbing up to the top of a hill there was a fine tang of frost in the air the view over shrewsbury harbor was very wonderful and the woods all about me were expecting something to happen soon at least that is the only way i can describe the effect they had on me i forgot everything aunt ruth stings and evelyn blake's patronage and queen alexander's dog-caller everything in life that isn't just right

Starting point is 03:23:55 lovely thoughts came flying to me like birds they weren't my thoughts i couldn't think anything half so exquisite they came from somewhere coming back on that dark little path where the air was full of nice whispering sounds i heard a chuckle of laughter and a fur copse just behind me i was startled and a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of good. bit alarmed. I knew at once it wasn't human laughter. It was more like the puckish mirth of fairy folk with just a faint hint of malice in it. I can no longer believe in wood elves. Alas, one loses so much when one becomes incredulous. So this laughter puzzled me, and yes, a horrid, crawly feeling began in my spine. Then suddenly I thought of owls and knew it for what it was, a truly delightful sound as if some survival of the golden age were chuckling to himself there in the dark. There were two of them, I think, and they were certainly having a good time over some owlish joke. I must write a poem about it, though I'll never be able to put into words half the charm

Starting point is 03:24:58 and devoury of it. Ilsa was up on the carpet in the principal's room yesterday for walking home from school with Guy Lindsay. Something Mr. Hardy said made her so furious that she snatched up a vase of chrysanthemums that was on his desk and hurled it against the wall, where, of course, it was smashed to pieces. If I hadn't thrown it at the wall, I'd have had to have thrown it at you, she told him. It would have gone hard with some girls, but Mr. Hardy is a friend of Dr. Burnley's. Besides, there is something about those yellow eyes of Ilsa's that do things to you. I know exactly how she would look at Mr. Hardy after she had smashed the vase. All her rage would be gone, and her

Starting point is 03:25:42 eyes would be laughing and daring, impudent Aunt Ruth would call it. Mr. Hardy merely told her she was acting like a baby and wouldn't have to pay for the base since it was school property. That rather squelched Ilsa. She thought it a tame ending to her heroics. I scolded her roundly. Really, somebody has to bring Ilsa up, and nobody but me seems to feel any responsibility in the matter. Dr. Burnley will just roar with laughter when she tells him, but I might as well have scolded the wind woman. Ilsa just laughed and hugged me. Honey, it made such a jolly smash when I heard it. I wasn't a bit mad anymore. Ilsa recited at our school concert last week and everybody thought her wonderful.

Starting point is 03:26:28 Aunt Ruth told me today that she expected me to be a star pupil. She wasn't punning on my name. Oh no, Aunt Ruth hasn't a nodding acquaintance with puns. All the pupils who make 90% average at the the Christmas exams and do not fall below 80 in any subject are called star pupils and are given a gold star pin to wear for the rest of the term. It is a coveted distinction and of course not many win it. If I fail, Aunt Ruth will rub it into the bone. I must not fail. October 30, 19. The November Quill came out today. I sent my owl poem into the editor a week ago, but he didn't use it, and he did use one of evelyn blake's a silly simpering little rhyme about autumn leaves very much the sort of thing i wrote three years ago and evelyn condoled me before the whole roomful of girls because my poem hadn't been taken i suppose tom blake had told her about it

Starting point is 03:27:29 you mustn't feel badly about it miss starr tom said it wasn't half bad but of course not up to the quills standard likely in another year or two you'll be able to get in keep on trying thanks i said i'm not feeling badly why should i i didn't make beam rind with green in my palm if i had i'd be feeling very badly indeed evelyn coloured to her eyes don't show your disappointment so plainly child she said. But I noticed she dropped the subject after that. For my own satisfaction, I wrote a criticism of Evelyn's poem in my Jimmy book as soon as I came from school. I modeled it on McCauley's essay on poor Robert Montgomery, and I got so much fun out of it that I didn't feel sore and humiliated anymore. I must show it to Mr. Carpenter when I go home. He'll chuckle over it. November 6.19. I noticed this evening in glancing over my journal that I soon gave up recording my good and bad deeds.

Starting point is 03:28:34 I suppose it was because so many of my doings were half and half. I never could decide in what class they belonged. We are expected to answer roll call with a quotation on Monday mornings. This morning I repeated a verse from my own poem, a window that faces the sea. When I left assembly, to go down to the prep classroom, Miss Elmire, The vice-principle stopped me. "'Emily, that was a beautiful verse you gave at Roe Call. "'Where did you get it?

Starting point is 03:29:05 "'And do you know the whole poem?' "'I was so elated I could hardly answer.' "'Yes, Miss Elmer,' very demurely. "'I would like a copy of it,' said Miss Elmer. "'Could you write me off one? "'And who is the author?' "'The author,' I said laughing, "'is Emily Bird's star.

Starting point is 03:29:26 The truth is, Miss Elmer, I had forgot to look up a quotation for roll call and couldn't think of any in a hurry, so just fell back on a bit of my own. Miss Elmer didn't say anything for a moment. She just looked at me. She is a stout, middle-aged woman with a square face and nice, wide, grey eyes. Do you still want the poem, Miss Elmer? I said, smiling. Yes, she said, still looking at me in that funny way, as if she had never seen me before.

Starting point is 03:29:56 "'Yes, and autograph it, please.' I promised and went on down the stairs. At the foot I glanced back. She was still looking after me. Something in her look made me feel glad and proud and happy and humble and, and prayerful. Yes, that was just how I felt. Oh, this has been a wonderful day.

Starting point is 03:30:17 What care I now for the quill or Evelyn Blake? This evening, Aunt Ruth marched uptown to see Uncle Oliver's Andrews. who is in the bank here now. She made me go along. She gave Andrew lots of good advice about his morals and his meals and his underclothes and asked him to come down for an evening whenever he wished. Andrew is a Murray, you see, and can therefore rush in where Teddy and Perry dare not tread. He is quite good-looking, with straight well-groomed red hair, but he always looks as if he'd just been starched and ironed. I thought the evening not wholly wasted, for our Mrs. Garden, his landlady, has an

Starting point is 03:31:00 interesting cat who made certain advances to me. But when Andrew patted him and called him, poor pussy, the intelligent animal hissed at him. You mustn't be too familiar with a cat, I advised Andrew, and you must speak respectfully to and of him. Piffle, said Aunt Ruth. But a cat's a cat, fra that. november eighth nineteen the nights are cold now when i came back monday i brought one of the new moon gin jars for my comforting i cuddle down with it in bed and enjoy the contrasting roars of the storm wind outside in the land of uprightness and the rain whirling over the roof

Starting point is 03:31:40 aunt ruth worries for fear the cork will come out and deluge the bed that would be almost as bad as what really did happen night before last i woke up about midnight with the most wonderful idea for a story i felt that i must rise at once and jot it down in a jimmy book before i forgot it then i could keep it until my three years are up and i am free to write it i hopped out of bed and in pawing around my table to find my candle i upset my ink bottle then of course i went mad and couldn't find anything matches candles everything had disappeared i set the ink bottle up but i knew there was a pool of ink on the table i had ink all over my fingers and dare not touch anything in the dark and couldn't find anything to wipe it off and all the time i heard that ink drip dripping on the floor in desperation i opened the door with my toes because i dare not touch it with my inky hands and went downstairs where i wiped my hands on the stove rag and got some matches by this time of course aunt ruth was up demanding wise and motives she took my matches lighted her candle and marched me upstairs oh twas a gruesome sight how could a small stone ink bottle hold a quart of ink there must have been a quart to have made the mess it did i felt like the old scotch immigrant who came home one evening found his house burned down and his entire family scalped by indians and said this is perfectly ridiculous the table cover was ruined the carpet was soaked even the wall-paper was bespattered but queen alexandra smiled benignly all over and byron went on dying aunt ruth and i had an hour's saiance with salt and vinegar aunt ruth wouldn't believe me when i said i got up to jot down the plot of a story she knew i had some other motive and it was just some more of my deepness and slyness she also said a few other things which i won't write down

Starting point is 03:33:40 of course i deserved a scolding for leaving that ink bottle uncorked but i didn't deserve all she said however i took it all very meekly for one thing i had been careless and for another i had been careless and for another i had to be able to court but i didn't deserve all she said however i took it all very meekly for one thing i had been careless and for another i had my bedroom shoes on anyone can over crow me when i'm wearing bedroom shoes then she wound up by saying she would forgive me this time but it was not to happen again perry won the mile race in school sports and broke the record he bragged too much about it and ilsa raged at him november eleventh nineteen last night aunt ruth found me reading david copperfield and crying over davy's alienation from his mother with a black rage against mr birdstone in my heart she must know why i was crying and wouldn't believe me when i told her crying over people who never existed said my aunt ruth incredulously oh but they do exist i said why they are as real as you are aunt ruth do you mean to say that miss betsy trotwood is a delusion i thought perhaps i could have real tea when i came to shrewsbury but aunt ruth says it is not healthy so i drink cold water for i will not drink cambric tea any longer as if i were a child november thirty nineteen andrew was in to-night he always comes the friday night i don't go to new moon aunt ruth left us alone in the parlor and went out to the meeting of the lady's aide andrew being a murray can be trusted i don't dislike andrew it would be impossible to dislike so harmless a being he is one of those good talkative awkward dears who goad you irresistibly into tormenting them then you feel remorseful afterwards because they are so good

Starting point is 03:35:33 to-night aunt ruth being out i tried to discover how little i could really say to andrew while i pursued my own train of thought i discovered that i could get along with very few words Yes, no, in several inflections, with or without a little laugh. I don't know. Really? Well, well. How wonderful! Especially the last. Andrew talked on, and when he stopped for breath, I stuck in, how wonderful! I did it exactly eleven times. Andrew liked it. I know it gave him a nice, flattering feeling that he was wonderful and his conversation wonderful. Meanwhile, I was living a splendid imaginary dream-like. by the river of Egypt in the days of Totnes I was both very happy. I think I'll try it again. Andrew was too stupid to catch me at it. When Aunt Ruth came home, she asked,

Starting point is 03:36:27 Well, how did you and Andrew get along? She asked that every time he comes down. I know why. I know the little scheme that is understood among the Murray's, even though I don't believe any of them have ever put it into words. Beautifully, I said, Andrew was in. improving. He said one interesting thing tonight, and he hadn't so many feet in hands as usual. I don't know why I say things like that to Aunt Ruth occasionally. It would be so much better for me if I didn't, but something, whether it's Murray or Star or Shipley or Burnley, or just pure cussedness, I know not, makes me say them before I've time to reflect. No doubt you would find more congenial company in stovepipe town, said Aunt Ruth.

Starting point is 03:37:14 End of Chapter 7. Chapter 8 of Emily Climes. This is a Libervox recording. All Libervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Chapter 8, Not Proven. Emily regretfully left the bookshop, where the aroma of books and new magazines was as the savor of sweet incense in her nostrils,

Starting point is 03:37:49 and hastened down cold and blustery Prince Street. Whenever possible, she slipped into the bookshop and took hungry dips into magazines she could not afford to buy, avid to learn what kind of stuff they published, especially poetry. She could not see that many of the verses in them were any better than some of her own, yet editors sent hers back religiously.

Starting point is 03:38:11 Emily had already used a considerable portion of the American stamp she had bought with Cousin Jimmy's dollar in paying the homeward way of her fledglings, accompanied by only the cold comfort of rejection slips. Her owl's laughter had already been returned six times, but Emily had not wholly lost faith in it yet. That very morning, she had dropped it again into the letterbox at the shop. The seventh time brings luck, she thought,

Starting point is 03:38:36 as she turned down the street leading to Ilsa's boarding house. She had her examination in English at 11 o'clock, and she wanted to glance over Ilsa's notebook before she went for it. The preps were almost through their terminal. examinations, taking them by fits and starts when the classrooms were free from seniors and juniors, a thing that always made the preps furious. Emily felt comfortably certain she would get her star pin. The examinations in her hardest subjects were over, and she did not believe she had fallen below 80 in any of them. Today was English, in which she ought to go well over 90. Remained only history, which she also loved.

Starting point is 03:39:14 Everybody expected her to win the star pin. Cousin Jimmy was intensely, excited over it, and Dean had sent her premature congratulations from the top of the pyramid, so sure was he of her success. His letter had come the previous day, along with the packet containing his Christmas gift. I send you a little gold necklace that was taken from the mummy of a dead princess of the 19th dynasty, wrote Dean. Her name was Mina, and it said in her epitaph that she was sweet of heart, so I think she fared well in the Hall of Judgment, and that the dread old God smiled indulgently upon her. This little amulet lay on her dead breast for thousands of years. I send it to you waited with centuries of love. I think it must have been a love gift.

Starting point is 03:39:56 Alice why should have rested on her heart all this time. It must have been her own choice. Others would have put a finer thing on the neck of a king's daughter. The little trinket intrigued Emily, with its charm and mystery, yet she was almost afraid of it. She gave a slight ghostly shudder she clasped it around her slim white throat and wondered about the royal girl who had worn it in those days of a dead empire. What was its history and its secret? Naturally, Aunt Roof had disapproved. What business had Emily to be getting Christmas presents from Jarback Priest? At least he might have sent you something new if he had to send anything, she said.

Starting point is 03:40:35 A souvenir of Cairo made in Germany, suggested Emily gravely. Something like that, agreed Aunt Ruth unsuspiciously. Mrs. Ayers had a handsome, gold-mounted glass paperweight with a picture of the sphinx in it that her brother bought her from Egypt. That battered thing looks positively cheap. Cheap! Aunt Ruth, do you realize that this necklace was made by hand and worn by an Egyptian princess before the days of Moses? Oh, well, if you want to believe Jarback Priest's fairy tales, said Aunt Ruth, much amused. i wouldn't wear it in public if i were you emily the murray's never wear shabby jewelry you're not going to leave it on to-night child of course i am the last time it was worn was probably at the court of pharaoh in the days of the oppression now it will go to kit barrett's snowshoe dance what a difference i hope the ghost of princess mina won't haunt me to-night she may resent my sacrilege who knows but it was not i who rifled her tomb and somebody would have this if i didn't somebody who mightn't

Starting point is 03:41:40 think of the little princess at all. I'm sure she would rather that it was warm and shining about my neck than in some grim museum for thousands of curious, cold eyes to stare at. She was sweet of heart, Dean says. She won't grudge me her pretty pendant. Lady of Egypt, whose kingdom has been poured on the desert sands like spilled wine, I salute you across the Gulf of Time. Emily bowed deeply and waved her hand adown the vistas of dead centuries. Such high-falutin language is very foolish, sniffed on Ruth. Oh, most of that last sentence was a quotation from Dean's letter, said Emily, candidly. Sounds like him, was Aunt Ruth's contemptuous agreement. Well, I think your Venetian beads would be better than that heathenish-looking thing. Now, mind you don't stay too late, Emily.

Starting point is 03:42:29 Make Andrew bring you home not later than twelve. Emily was going with Andrews. to Kitty Barrett's dance, a privilege quite graciously accorded since Andrew was one of the elect people. Even when she did not get home until one o'clock, Aunt Ruth overlooked it. But it left Emily rather sleepy for the day, especially as she had studied late the two previous nights. Aunt Ruth relaxed her rigid rules and examination time and permitted an extra allowance of candles. What she would have said had she known that Emily used some of the extra candlelight to write a poem on shadows, I do not know and cannot record. But no doubt she would have considered it an added proof of slyness. Perhaps it was sly. Remember that I'm only Emily's biographer, not her apologist.

Starting point is 03:43:16 Emily found Evelyn Blake in Ilsa's room, and Evelyn Blake was secretly much annoyed because she had not been invited to the snowshoe dance, and Emily Starr had. Therefore, Evelyn, sitting on Ilsa's table, and swinging her high, silken sheathed in-step flauntingly in the face of girls who had no silk stockings, was prepared to be disagreeable. I'm glad you've come, trusty and well-beloved, moaned Ilsa. Evelyn has been clapper-clawing at me all the morning. Perhaps she'll whirl in at you now and give me a rest. I've been telling her that she should learn to control her temper, said Evelyn virtuously.

Starting point is 03:43:56 Don't you agree with me, Miss Starr? What have you been doing now, Ilsa? asked Emily. Oh, I had a large quarrel with her. Mrs. Adamson this morning. It was bound to come sooner or later. I've been good so long there was an awful lot of wickedness bottled up in me. Mary knew that, didn't you Mary? Mary felt quite sure an explosion was due to happen. Mrs. Adamson began it by asking disagreeable questions. She's always doing that, isn't she Mary? After that she started in scolding, and finally she cried. Then I slapped her face. You see, said Evelyn significantly. I couldn't help it, Gris.

Starting point is 03:44:34 I could have endured her impertinence and her scolding. When she began to cry, she's so ugly when she cries. Well, I just flapped her. I suppose you felt better after that, said Emily, determined not to show any disapproval before Evelyn. Ilsa burst out laughing. Yes, at first, it stopped her yowling anyway. But afterwards came remorse. I'll apologize to her, of course. I do feel real sorry, but I'm quite likely to do it again. If Mary here weren't so good, I wouldn't be half as bad. I have to even the balance up a bit. Mary is meek and humble, and Mrs. Adamson walks all over her. You should hear her scold Mary if Mary goes out more than one evening a week. She is right, said Evelyn. It would be much better if you went out less.

Starting point is 03:45:23 Getting talked about, Ilsa. You weren't out last night, anyhow, were you, dear? asked Ilsa, with another unholy grin. Evelyn colored and was haughtily silent. Emily buried herself in her notebook, and Mary and Ilsa went out. Emily wished Evelyn would go too, but Evelyn had no intention of going. Why don't you make Ilsa behave yourself? She began in a hatefully confidential sort of way. I have no authority over Ilsa, said Emily coldly.

Starting point is 03:45:55 Besides, I don't think she misbehaves. Oh, my dear girl! why, you heard her yourself saying she slapped Mrs. Adamson. Mrs. Adamson needed it. She's an odious woman, always crying, and there's no need in the world for her to cry. There's nothing more aggravating. Well, Ilsa skipped French again yesterday afternoon and went for a walk up river with Ronnie Gibson. If she does that too often, she's going to get caught. Ilsa is very popular with the boys, said Emily, who knew that Evelyn wanted to be. She's popular in the wrong quarters.

Starting point is 03:46:33 Evelyn was condescending now, knowing by instinct that Emily Starr hated to be condescended to. She always has a ruck of wild boys after her. The nice ones don't bother with her, you notice. Ronnie Gibson's nice, isn't he? Well, what do you say to Marshall Ord? Ilsa has nothing to do with Marshall Ord. Oh, hasn't she? She was driving with him till 12 o'clock last Tuesday night, and he was driving.

Starting point is 03:46:59 drunk when he got the horse from the livery stable. I don't believe a word of it. Ilsa never went driving with Marsh Ord. Emily was white-lipped with indignation. I was told by a person who saw them. Ilsa is being talked about everywhere. Perhaps you have no authority over her, but surely you have some influence.

Starting point is 03:47:20 Though you do foolish things yourself sometimes, don't you? Not meaning any harm, perhaps. That time you went bathing on the Blairwater sands without any clothes on, for instance? That's known all through the school. I heard Marsh's brother laughing about it. Now, wasn't that foolish, my dear? Emily blushed with anger and shame,

Starting point is 03:47:42 though quite as much over being my-deered by Evelyn Blake as anything else. That beautiful bathing by moonlight, what a thing of desecration it had been made by the world. She would not discuss it with Evelyn. She would not even tell Evelyn they had their petticoats on. Let her think what she would. I don't think you quite understand some things, Miss Blake, she said, with a certain fine, detached irony of tone and manner,

Starting point is 03:48:08 which made very commonplace words seem charged with meanings unutterable. Oh, you belong to the chosen people, don't you? Evelyn laughed her malicious little laugh. I do, said Emily calmly, refusing to withdraw her eyes from her notebook. Well, don't get so vexed, dear. I only spoke because I thought it appeared. pity to see poor Ilsa getting in wrong everywhere. I rather like her, poor soul, and I wish she would tone down her taste in colors a bit. That scarlet evening dress she wore at the prep concert?

Starting point is 03:48:40 Really, you know, it's weird. She looked like a tall golden lily in a scarlet sheath, I thought, said Emily. What a loyal friend you are, dear. I wonder if Ilsa would stand up for you like that. Well, I suppose I ought to let you study. You have English and ten, haven't you? Mr. Scoville's going to watch the room. Mr. Traverse is sick. Don't you think Mr. Scoville's hair is wonderful? Speaking of hair, dear, why don't you dress yours low enough at the sides to hide your ears, the tips anyway? I think it would become you so much better. Emily decided that if Evelyn Blake called her dear again, she would throw an ink bottle at her. Why didn't she go away and let her study? Evelyn had another shot in her locker.

Starting point is 03:49:29 That callow young friend of yours from stovepipe town has been trying to get into the quill. He sent in a patriotic poem. Tom showed it to me. It was a scream. One line especially was delicious. Canada, like a maiden, welcomes back her sons. You should have heard Tom howl. Emily could hardly help smiling herself, though she was horribly annoyed with Perry for making such a target of himself.

Starting point is 03:49:57 Why couldn't he learn his limitations and understand that the slopes of Parnassus were not for him? I do not think the editor of the Quill has any business to show rejected contributions to outsiders, she said coldly. Oh, Tom doesn't look on me as an outsider, and that really was too good to keep. Well, I think I'll run down to the shop. Emily sighed with relief as Evelyn took her departure. Presently, Ilsa returned. Evelyn gone, sweet temper she was in this morning. I can't understand what Mary sees in her.

Starting point is 03:50:32 Mary's a decent sort, though she isn't exciting. Ilsa, said Emily seriously. Were you out driving with Marsh Ord one night last week? Ilsa stared. No, you dear young ass, I wasn't. I can guess were you heard that yarn. I don't know who the girl was. But you cut French and went upriver with Ronnie Gibson.

Starting point is 03:50:56 Peckavy. "'Elsa, you shouldn't really—' "'Now, don't make me mad, Emily,' said Ilsa shortly. "'You're getting too smug. "'Something ought to be done to cure you before it gets chronic. "'I hate prunes and prisms. "'I'm off. "'I want to run round to the shop before I go to the school.'

Starting point is 03:51:15 "'Ilsa gathered up her books pettishly and flounced out. "'Emily yawned and decided she was through with the notebook. "'She had half an hour yet before it was necessary to go to the school. "'She would lie down on Ilsa's. bed for just a moment. It seemed the next minute when she found herself sitting up, staring with a dismayed face at Mary Carswell's clock. Five minutes to 11. Five minutes to cover a quarter of a mile and be at her desk for examination. Emily flung on coat and cap, caught up her notebooks, and fled. She arrived at the high school out of breath with a nasty subconsciousness that

Starting point is 03:51:50 people had looked at her queerly as she tore through the streets, hung up her wraps without a glance at the mirror, and hurried into the classroom. A stare of amazement, followed by a ripple of laughter, went over the room. Mr. Scoville, tall, slim, elegant, was giving out the examination papers. He laid one down before Emily and said gravely, "'Did you look in your mirror before you came to class, Miss Star?' "'No,' said Emily resentfully, sensing something fearfully wrong somewhere. "'I think I would look now if I were you.'

Starting point is 03:52:27 Mr. Scoville seemed to be speaking with difficulty. Emily got up and went back to the girl's dressing room. She met Principal Hardy in the hall, and Principal Hardy stared at her. Why Principal Hardy stared, why the preps had laughed, Emily understood when she confronted the dressing room looking glass. Drawn skillfully and blackly across her upper lip and her cheeks was a mustache, a flamboyant, very black mustache with fantastic, curled ends. For a moment, Emily gaped at herself in blank horror. Why, what, who had done it?

Starting point is 03:53:05 She whirled furiously about. Evelyn Blake had just entered the room. You, you did this, panted Emily. Evelyn stared for a moment, then went off into a peal of laughter. Emily Star, you look like a nightmare. Do you mean to tell me you went into class of that on your face? Emily clenched her hands. You did it, she said again. Evelyn drew herself up very haughtily. Really, Miss Star, I hope you don't think I'd stoop to such a trick. I suppose your dear friend Ilsa thought she'd play a joke on you.

Starting point is 03:53:42 She was chuckling over something when she came in a few minutes ago. Ilsa never did it, cried Emily. Evelyn shrugged her shoulders. I'd wash it off first and find out who did it afterward, she said with a twitching face, as she went out. Emily, trembling from head to foot with anger, shame, and the most intense humiliation she had ever suffered, washed the mustache off her face. Her first impulse was to go home. She could not face that room full of preps again. Then she set her teeth and went back, holding her black head very high as she walked down the aisle to her desk. Her face was burning and her spirit was

Starting point is 03:54:21 aflame. In the corner, she saw Ilsa's yellow head bent over her paper. The others were smiling and tittering. Mr. Scoville was insultingly grave. Emily took up her pen, but her hand shook over her paper. If she could have had a good cry there and then, her shame and anger would have found a saving vent. But that was impossible. She would not cry. She would not let them see the depths of her humiliation. If Emily could have laughed off the malicious joke, it would have been better for her. Being Emily, and being one of the proud Murray's, she could not. She resented the indignity to the very core of her passionate soul. As far as the English paper was concerned, she might almost as well have gone home.

Starting point is 03:55:07 She had lost 20 minutes already. It was 10 minutes more before she could steady her hands sufficiently to write. Her thoughts she could not command at all. The paper was a difficult one, as Mr. Travers' papers always were. Her mind seemed a chaos of jostling ideas spinning around a fixed point of torturing shame. When she handed in her paper and left the classroom, she knew she had lost her stover. That paper would be no more than a pass if it were that. But in her turmoil of feeling, she did not care.

Starting point is 03:55:39 She hurried home to her unfriendly room, thankful that Aunt Ruth was out, threw herself on the bed, and wept. She felt sore, beaten, bruised, and under all her pain was a horrible, teasing little doubt. Did Ilsa do it? No, she didn't. She couldn't have. Who then? Mary? The idea was absurd. It must have been Evelyn. Evelyn had come back and played that cruel trick on her out of spite and peak. Yet she had denied it, with seemingly insulted indignation, and eyes that were perhaps a shade too innocent. What, had Ilsa said? You are getting positively smug. Something ought to be done to cure you before it gets chronic.

Starting point is 03:56:24 Had Ilsa taken that abominable way of curing her? No, no, no, Emily sobbed fiercely into her pillow, but the doubt persisted. Aunt Ruth had no doubt. Aunt Ruth was calling on her friend Mrs. Ball, and her friend, Mrs. Ball, had a daughter who was a prep. Anita Ball came home with the tale that had been well laughed over in prep and junior and senior classes, and Anita Ball said that Evelyn Blake had said, said Ilsa Burnley had done the deed. Well, said Aunt Ruth, invading Emily's room on her return home, I hear Ilsa Burnley decorated you

Starting point is 03:57:03 beautifully today. I hope you realize what she is now. Ilsa didn't do it, said Emily. Have you asked her? No, I wouldn't insult her with such a question. Well, I believe she did do it, and she is not to come here again. Understand that. Aunt Ruth, you've heard what I said, Emily. Ilsa Burnley is no fit associate for you. I've heard too many tales about her lately, but this is unpardonable. Aunt Ruth, if I ask Ilsa if she did it and she says she did not, won't you believe her? No, I wouldn't believe any girl brought up as Ilsa Burnley was. It's my belief she'd do anything and say anything.

Starting point is 03:57:47 Don't let me see her in my house again. Emily stood up and tried to summon the Murray look into a face distorted by weeping. Of course, Aunt Ruth, she said coldly, I won't bring Ilsa here if she is not welcome, but I shall go to see her. And if you forbid me, I'll go home to New Moon. I feel as if I wanted to go anyhow now, only I won't let Evelyn Blake drive me away. Aunt Ruth knew quite well that the New Moon folks would not agree to a complete divorce between Emily and Ilsa. They were two good friends with the doctor for that. Mrs. Stoughton had never liked Dr. Burnley. She had to be content with the excuse for keeping Ilsa away from her house, for which she had long hankered. Her own annoyance over the matter was not borne out of any sympathy with Emily, but solely from anger at a

Starting point is 03:58:41 Murray being made ridiculous. I would have thought you'd had enough of going to see Ilsa. As for Evelyn Blake, she is too clever and sensible a girl to have played a silly trick like that. I know the Blakes. They are an excellent family, and Evelyn's father is well-to-do. Now, stop crying, a pretty face you've got. What sense is there in crying? None at all, agreed Emily drearily. Only I can't help it. I can't bear to be made ridiculous. I can endure anything but that. Oh, Aunt Ruth, please leave me alone. I can't eat any supper. You've got yourself all worked up, star-like, we Murray's, conceal our feelings.

Starting point is 03:59:26 I don't believe you've any to conceal some of you, thought Emily rebelliously. Keep away from Ilsa Burnley after this, and you'll not be so likely to be publicly disgraced, was Aunt Ruth's parting advice. Emily, after a sleepless night, during which it seemed to her that if she couldn't push that ceiling farther from her face, she would surely smother. Went to see Ilsa the next day, and reluctantly told her what Aunt Ruth had said. Ilsa was furious, but Emily noted with a pang that she did not assert any innocence of the crayon trick. Ilsa, you didn't really do that, she faltered.

Starting point is 04:00:07 She knew Ilsa hadn't. She was sure of it, but she wanted to hear her say so. To her surprise, a sudden blush swept over Ilsa's face. Is thy servant a dog? She said, rather confusedly. It was very unlike straightforward outspoken Ilsa to be so confused. She turned her face away and began fumbling aimlessly with her bookbag. You don't suppose I'd do anything like that to you, Emily.

Starting point is 04:00:36 No, of course not, said Emily slowly. The subject was dropped. But the little doubt and distrust at the bottom of Emily's mind came out of its lurking place and declared itself. Even yet, she couldn't believe Ilsa could do such a thing. and lie about it afterward. But why was she so confused and shamefaced? Would not an innocent Ilsa have stormed about, according to form, berated Emily roundly for mere suspicion, and aired the subject generally until all the venom had been blown out of it? It was not referred to again, but the shadow was there and spoiled to a certain extent, the Christmas holidays at New Moon.

Starting point is 04:01:18 outwardly the girls were the friends they had always been but emily was acutely conscious of a sudden rift between them strive as she would she could not bridge it the seeming unconsciousness of any such severance on ilsa's part served to deepen it hadn't ilsa cared enough for her and her friendship to feel the chill that had come over it could she be so shallow and indifferent as not to perceive it emily brooded and grew more orbit over it. A thing like that, a dim, poisonous thing that lurked in shadow and dared not come into the open, always played havoc with her sensitive and passionate temperament. No open quarrel with Ilsa could have affected her like this. She had quarreled with Ilsa scores of times and made up the next minute with no bitterness or backward glance. This was different. The more Emily brooded over it, the more monstrous it grew. She was unhappy, absent, restless. Aunt Laura and cousin Jimmy noticed it, but attributed it to her disappointment over the Star Pin. She had told them she was sure she would not win, but Emily had ceased

Starting point is 04:02:31 to care about the Star Pin. To be sure, she had a bad time of it when she went back to high school and the examination results were announced. She was not one of the envied four who flaunted starpins, and Aunt Ruth rubbed it in for weeks. Aunt Ruth felt that she had lost family prestige in Emily's failure, and she was very bitter about it. Altogether, Emily felt that the New Year had come in very inauspiciously for her. The first month of it was a time she never liked to recall. She was very lonely. Ilsa could not come to see her, and though she made herself go to see Ilsa, the subtle little rift between them was slowly widening. Ilsa still gave no sign of feeling it, but then, somehow, she was seldom alone.

Starting point is 04:03:18 with Ilsa now. The room was always filled with girls, and there was a good deal of noise and laughter and jokes and school gossip, all very harmless and even jolly, but very different from the old intimacy and understanding comradeship with Ilsa. Formerly, it used to be a chummy jest between them that they could walk or sit for hours together and say no word and yet feel that they had had a splendid time. There were no such silences now. When they did happen to be alone together, they both chatted gaily and shallowly, as if each were secretly afraid that there might come a moment for the silence that betrays. Emily's heart ached over their lost friendship.

Starting point is 04:04:03 Every night her pillow was wet with tears. Yet there was nothing she could do. She could not try as she would banish the doubt that possessed her. She made many an honest effort to do so. She told herself every day that Ilsa Burnley could, never have played that trick, that she was constitutionally incapable of it, and went straight away to Ilsa with the firm determination to be just what she had always been to her. With the result, that she was unnaturally cordial and friendly, even gushing,

Starting point is 04:04:35 and no more like her real self than she was like Evelyn Blake. Ilsa was just as cordial and friendly, and the rift was wider still. "'Elsa never goes into a tantrum with me now,' Emily reflected sadly. It was quite true. Ilsa was always good-tempered with Emily, presenting a baffling front of politeness, unbroken by a single flash of her old wild spirit. Emily felt that nothing could have been more welcome than one of Ilsa's stormy rages. It might break the ice that was forming so relentlessly between them, and release the pent-up flood of old affection. One of the keenest stings in the situation was that Evelyn Blake was quite well aware of the state of affairs between Ilsa and Emily.

Starting point is 04:05:24 The mockery of her long brown eyes and the hidden sneer in her casual sentences betrayed her knowledge and her enjoyment of it. This was gall and wormwood to Emily, who felt that she had no defense against it. Evelyn was a girl whom intimacies between other girls annoyed, and the friendship between Ilsa and Emily had annoyed her especially. it had been so complete, so absorbing. There had been no place in it for anyone else. And Evelyn did not like to feel that she was barred out, that there was some garden enclosed into which she might not enter. She was therefore hugely delighted to think that this vexingly beautiful friendship

Starting point is 04:06:05 between two girls she secretly hated was at an end. End of Chapter 8. Chapter 9 of Emily Climes This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visitlibrivox.org. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Chapter 9. A Supreme Moment

Starting point is 04:06:37 Emily came downstairs laggingly, feeling that all the color in music had somehow gone out of life, and that it stretched before her in unbroken grayness. Ten minutes later, she was, was encompassed by rainbows, and the desert of her future had blossomed like the rose. The cause of this miracle of transformation was a thin letter which Aunt Ruth handed to her with an Aunt Ruthian sniff. There was a magazine, too, but Emily did not at first regard it. She saw the address of a floral firm on the corner of the envelope, and sensed at touch the

Starting point is 04:07:11 promising thinness of it, so different from the plump letters full of rejected verses. Her heart beat violently as she tore it open and glanced over the typewritten sheet. Miss Emily B. Starr, Shrewsbury, P.E. Island, Canada. Dear Miss Starr, it gives us great pleasure to tell you that your poem, Owl's Laughter, has been found available for use in Garden and Woodland. It appears in the current issue of our magazine, a copy of which we are sending you. Your verses have the true ring, and we shall be glad to see you. more of your work. It is not our custom to pay cash for our contributions, but you may select $2 worth of seeds or plants from our catalog to be sent to your address prepaid. Thanking you,

Starting point is 04:07:59 we remain, yours truly, Thomas E. Carlton and Company. Emily dropped the letter and seized upon the magazine with trembling fingers. She grew dizzy. The letters danced before her eyes. She felt a curious sensation of choking. For there, on the front page, in a fine border of curlicues, was her poem, Owl's Laughter by Emily Bird Star. It was the first sweet bubble on the cup of success, and we must not think her silly if it intoxicated her. She carried the letter in magazine off to her room to gloat over it, blissfully unconscious that Aunt Ruth was doing an extra deal of sniffing. Aunt Ruth felt very suspicious of suddenly crimsoned cheek and glowing eye and general air of rapture and detachment from Earth. In her room, Emily sat down and read her poem as if she had never seen it before.

Starting point is 04:08:53 There was, to be sure, a printer's error in it that made the flesh creep upon her bones. It was awful to have Hunter's Moon come out as Hunter's Mown, but it was her poem, hers, accepted and printed in a real magazine. and paid for. To be sure, a check would have been more acceptable. Two dollars all her own, earned by her own pen, would have seemed like riches to Emily. But what fun she and cousin Jimmy would have selecting the seeds? She could see an imagination that beautiful flower bed

Starting point is 04:09:27 next summer in the New Moon Garden, a glory of crimson and purple in blue and gold. And what was it the letter said? Your verses have the true ring, and we shall be glad to see more. of your work. Oh, bliss, oh rapture, the world was hers. The alpine path was as good as climbed. What signified a few more scrambles to the summit? Emily could not remain in that dark little room with its oppressive ceiling and unfriendly furniture. Lord Byron's funereal expression was an

Starting point is 04:10:00 insult to her happiness. She threw on her wraps and hurried out to the land of uprightness. As she went through the kitchen, Aunt Ruth, naturally more suspicious than ever, inquired with markedly bland sarcasm, is the house on fire or the harbor? Neither, it's my soul that's on fire, said Emily with an inscrutable smile. She shut the door behind her and at once forgot Aunt Ruth and every other disagreeable thing in person. How beautiful the world was. How beautiful life was.

Starting point is 04:10:34 how wonderful the land of uprightness was. The young firs along the narrow path were lightly powdered with snow, as if, thought Emily. A veil of aerial lace had been trickily flung over austere young druid priestesses, foresworn to all such frivolities of vain adornment. Emily decided she would write that sentence down in her Jimmy book when she went back. On and on she flitted to the crest of the hill. She felt as if she were flying. Her feet couldn't really be touching the earth.

Starting point is 04:11:06 On the hill she paused and stood, a rapt, ecstatic figure with clasped hands and eyes of dream. It was just after sunset. Out over the ice-bound harbor, great clouds piled themselves up in dazzling, iridescent masses. Beyond were gleaming white hills with early stars over them. Between the dark trunks of the old fir trees to her right, far away through the crystal evening air,

Starting point is 04:11:34 rose a great, round, full moon. It has the true ring, murmured Emily, tasting the incredible words anew. They want to see more of my work. Oh, if only father could see my verses in print. Years before, in the old house at Maywood, her father, bending over her as she slept, had said, She will love deeply, suffer terribly.

Starting point is 04:12:00 She will have glorious moments to compensate. This was one of her glorious moments. She felt a wonderful lightness of spirit, a soul-stirring joy in mere existence. The creative faculty, dormant through the wretched month just passed, suddenly burned in her soul again like a purifying flame. It swept away all morbid, poisonous, wrinkling things. All at once, Emily knew that Ilsa had never done that. She laughed joyously, amusedly. What a little fool I've been. Oh, such a little fool. Of course, Ilsa never did it. There's nothing between us now. It's gone. Gone. Gone. I'll go right to her and tell her so. Emily hurried back and down her little path. The land of uprightness lay all about her, mysterious in the moonlight, wrapped in the exquisite reticence of winter woods. She seemed one with its beauty and charm and mystery. With a sudden

Starting point is 04:13:00 sigh of the wind woman through the shadowy aisles came the flash, and Emily went dancing to Ilsa with the afterglow of it in her soul. She found Ilsa alone, threw her arms around her, hugged her fiercely. Ilsa do forgive me, she cried. I shouldn't have doubted you. I did doubt you, but now I know, I know. You will forgive me? You young goat, said Ilsa. Emily loved to be called a young goat. This was the old Ilsa. Her Ilsa. Oh, Ilsa, I've been so unhappy.

Starting point is 04:13:38 Well, don't ball over it, said Ilsa. I haven't been very hilarious myself. Look here, Emily. I've got something to tell you. Shut up and listen. That day I met Evelyn at the shop, and we went back for some books she wanted, and we found you sound asleep,

Starting point is 04:13:53 so sound asleep that you never stirred when I pinched your cheek. Then just for devilment, I picked up a black crayon and said, I'm going to draw a mustache on her. Shut up. Evelyn pulled a long face and said, Oh no, that would be mean, don't you think? I hadn't the slightest intention of doing it.

Starting point is 04:14:11 I'd only spoken in fun. But that Shrimp Evelyn's ungodly affectation of righteousness made me so mad that I decided I would do it. Shut up! I meant to wake you right up and hold a glass before you. That was all. But before I could do it, Kate Arrell came in wanted us to go along with her.

Starting point is 04:14:29 And I threw down the talk and went out. That's all, Emily, honest as Caesar. But it made me feel ashamed and silly later on. I'd say a bit conscience-stricken if I had such a thing as a conscience, because I felt that I must have put the idea into the head of whoever did do it, and so was responsible in a way. And then I saw you distrusted me, and that made me mad. Not temporary mad, you see, but a nasty, cold inside sort of madness.

Starting point is 04:14:56 I thought you had no business even to suspect that I could have done such a thing as let you go to class like that. And I thought, since you did, you could go on doing it. I wouldn't say one word to put matters straight. Golly, but I'm glad you're through with seeing things. Do you think Evelyn Blake did it? No. Oh, she's quite capable of it, I'm sure. But I don't see how it could have been she. She went to the shop with Kate and me, and we left her there.

Starting point is 04:15:23 She was in class 15 minutes later, so I don't think she'd have time. time to go back and do it. I really think it was that little devil of a May Hilsen. She'd do anything, and she was in the hall when I was flourishing the crayon. She'd take the suggestion as a cat Leps milk, but it couldn't have been Evelyn. Emily retained her belief that it could have been, and was. But the only thing that mattered now was the fact that Aunt Ruth still believed Ilsa guilty, and would continue so to believe. Well, that's a rut in shame, said Ilsa. We can't have any real chum talks here.

Starting point is 04:15:59 Mary always has such a mob in, and E.B. pervades the place. I'll find out who did it yet, said Emily darkly, and make Aunt Ruth give in. On the next afternoon, Evelyn Blake found Ilsa and Emily in a beautiful row. At least Ilsa was rowing, while Emily sat with her legs crossed and a bored, haughty expression in her insolently half-shut eyes. It would have been a welcome sight to a girl who disliked the intimacies of other girls. But Evelyn Blake was not rejoiced. Ilsa was quarreling with Emily again. Ergo, Ilsa and Emily were on good terms once more.

Starting point is 04:16:36 I'm so glad to see you've forgiven Ilsa for that mean trick, she said sweetly to Emily the next day. Of course, it was just pure thoughtlessness on her part. I've always insisted on that. She never stopped to think what ridicule she was letting you in for. Poor Ilsa is like that. You know I tried to stop her. I didn't tell you this before, of course.

Starting point is 04:16:58 I didn't want to make any more trouble than there was. But I told her it was a horribly mean thing to do to a friend. I thought I had put her off. It's sweet of you to forgive her, Emily, dear. You are better-hearted than I am. I'm afraid I could never pardon anyone who had made me such a laughing stop. Why didn't you slay her in her tracks? said Ilsa when she heard of it from Emily.

Starting point is 04:17:22 I simply half-shut my eyes and looked at her like a Murray, said Emily, and that was more bitter than death. End of Chapter 9. Recording by Scarbo. Chapter 10 of Emily Climes. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Chapter 10, The Madness of an hour.

Starting point is 04:17:56 The high school concert in aid of the school library was an annual event in Shrewsbury, coming off in early April before it was necessary to settle down to hard study for spring examinations. This year it was at first intended to have the usual program of music and readings with a short dialogue. Emily was asked to take part in the latter and agreed after securing Aunt Ruth's very grudging consent, which would probably never have been secured if Miss Elmer had not come in person. to plead for it. Miss Almor was a granddaughter of Senator Almer, and Aunt Ruth yielded to family what she would have yielded to nothing else. Then, Miss Almer suggested cutting out most of the music and all of the readings and having a short play instead. This found favor in the eyes of the students and the change was made forthwith. Emily was cast for a part that suited her,

Starting point is 04:18:51 so she became keenly interested in the matter and enjoyed the practices, which were held in the school building two evenings of the week under the chapernage of Miss Elmer. The play created quite a stir in Shrewsbury. Nothing so ambitious had been undertaken by the high school students before. It became known that many of the Queen's Academy students were coming up from Charlottetown on the evening train to see it. This drove the performers half wild. The Queen's students were old hands at putting on plays. Of course they came to criticize. It became a fixed obsession with each member of the cast to make the play as good as any of the Queen's Academy plays had been, and every nerve was trained to that end.

Starting point is 04:19:34 Kate Arrell's sister, who was a graduate of a school of oratory, coached them, and when the evening of the performance arrived, there was a burning excitement in the various homes and boarding houses of Shrewsbury. Emily, in her small candle-lighted room, looked at Emily in the glass, with the considerable satisfaction. A satisfaction that was quite justifiable. The scarlet flesh of her cheeks, the deepening darkness of her gray eyes, came out brilliantly above the ashes of roses ground. The little wreath of silver leaves twisted around her black hair made her look like a young dryad.

Starting point is 04:20:12 She did not, however, feel like a dryad. Aunt Ruth had made her take off her lace stockings and put on cashmere ones, had tried, indeed, to make her put on woolen ones, but had gone down and defeat. on that point, retrieving her position, however, by insisting on a flannel petticoat. Horrid bunchy thing, thought Emily resentfully, meaning the petticoat, of course, but the skirts of the day were full and Emily's slenderness could carry even a thick flannel petticoat. She was just fastening her Egyptian chain around her neck when Aunt Ruth stocked in. One glance was sufficient to reveal that Aunt Ruth was very angry. Emily, Miss Ball has just called.

Starting point is 04:20:54 She told me something that has amazed me. Is this a play you're taking part in tonight? Emily stared. Of course it's a play, Aunt Ruth. Surely you knew that. When you asked my permission to take part in this concert, you told me it was a dialogue, said Aunt Ruth, I silly. Oh, but Miss Elmer decided to have a little play in place of it.

Starting point is 04:21:19 I thought you knew, Aunt Ruth. Truly I did. I thought I mentioned it to you. "'You didn't think anything of the kind, Emily. "'You deliberately kept me in ignorance "'because you knew I wouldn't have allowed you to take part in a play.' "'Indeed, no, Aunt Ruth, pleaded Emily gravely. "'I never thought of hiding it.

Starting point is 04:21:37 "'Of course I didn't feel like talking much to you about it "'because I knew you didn't approve of the concert at all.' "'When Emily spoke gravely, Aunt Ruth always thought she was impudent. "'This crowns all, Emily. "'Fly as I've always known you to be, "'I wouldn't have believed you could be as sort. why is this? There was nothing of the kind about it, Aunt Ruth, said Emily impatiently.

Starting point is 04:22:00 It would have been silly of me to try to hide the fact that we were getting up a play when all of Shrewsbury is talking about it. I don't see how you could help hearing of it. You know I wasn't going anywhere because of my bronchitis. Oh, I see through it all, Emily. You cannot deceive me. I haven't tried to deceive you. I thought you knew.

Starting point is 04:22:21 That's all there is to it. I thought the reason you never spoke of it because you were opposed to the whole thing. That is the truth, Aunt Ruth. What difference is there between a dialogue and a play? There is every difference, said Aunt Ruth. Plays are wicked. But this is such a little one, pleaded Emily despairingly. And then laughed because it sounded so ridiculously like the nursemaid's excuse in midshipman's easy.

Starting point is 04:22:48 Her sense of humor was untimely. Her laughter infuriated Aunt Ruth. Ruth. Little or big, you are not going to take part in it. Emily stared again, pailing a little. Aunt Ruth, I must. Why, the play would be ruined. Better a play ruined than a soul ruined, retorted Aunt Ruth. Emily dared not smile. The issue at stake was too serious. Don't be so, so indignant, Aunt Ruth, she had nearly said, unjust. I am sorry you don't approve of plays. I won't take part in any more, but you can see I must do it tonight. Oh, my dear Emily, I don't think you are quite as indispensable as all that.

Starting point is 04:23:32 Certainly, Aunt Ruth was very maddening. How disagreeable the word dear could be. Still, was Emily patient. I really am. Tonight, you see, they couldn't get a substitute at the last moment. Miss Alma would never forgive me. Do you care more about Miss Alma's forgiveness than God's? demanded Aunt Ruth, with the air of one stating a decisive position.

Starting point is 04:23:59 Guess, then your gods, muttered Emily, unable to keep her patience under such incensate questions. Have you no respect for your forefathers? Was Aunt Ruth's next relevant query? Why, if they knew a descendant of theirs was play-acting, they would turn over in their graves. Emily favored Aunt Ruth with a sample of the Murray look. It would be exquisite.

Starting point is 04:24:23 an exercise for them. I'm going to take my part in the play tonight, Aunt Ruth. Emily spoke quietly, looking down from her young height with resolute eyes. Aunt Ruth felt a nasty sense of helplessness. There was no lock to Emily's door, and she couldn't detain her by physical force. If you go, you needn't come back here tonight, she said with pale rage. This house is locked at nine o'clock. If I don't come back here tonight, I won't come at all. Emily was too angry over Aunt Ruth's on reasonable attitude to care for consequences. If you lock me out, I'll go back to New Moon. They know all about the play there.

Starting point is 04:25:05 Even Aunt Elizabeth was willing for me to take part. She caught up her coat and jammed the little red feather hat, which Uncle Oliver's wife had given her at Christmas, down on her head. Aunt Addie's taste was not approved at New Moon, but the hat was very becoming. Emily loved it. Aunt Ruth suddenly realized that Emily looked oddly mature and grown up in it. But the knowledge did not as yet dampen her anger.

Starting point is 04:25:33 Emily was gone. Emily had dared to defy her and disobey her. Sly underhand Emily. Emily must be taught a lesson. At nine o'clock, a stubborn, outraged Aunt Ruth locked all the doors and went to bed. The play was a big success. Even the Queen's students admitted that and applauded generously. Emily threw herself into her part with a fire and energy generated by her encounter with Aunt Ruth,

Starting point is 04:26:00 which swept away all-hampering consciousness of flannel petticoats, and agreeably astonished Miss Errol, whose one criticism of Emily's acting had been that she was rather cold and reserved in a part that called for more abandon. Emily was showered with compliments, and at the close of the performance, Even Evelyn Blake said graciously, Really, dear, you are quite wonderful. A star actress, a poet, a budding novelist.

Starting point is 04:26:29 What surprise will you give us next? Thought, Emily, condescending and sufferable creature, said Emily, Thank you. There was a happy, triumphant walk home with Teddy, a gay good night at the gate, and then the lock door. Emily's anger, which had been sublimated during the evening, into energy and ambition suddenly flared up again, sweeping everything before it. It was unbearable to be treated thus. She had endured enough at Aunt Ruth's hands. This was the proverbial last straw.

Starting point is 04:27:06 One could not put up with everything, even to get an education. One owed something to one's dignity and self-respect. There were three things she could do. She could thump the old-fashioned brass knocker on the door until Aunt Ruth came down and let her in, as she had done once before, and then endure weeks of slurs because of it. She could fly up street and down street to Isles' boarding-house. The girls wouldn't be in bed yet, as she had likewise done once before, and as no doubt Aunt Ruth would expect her to do now. And then Mary Carswell would tell Evelyn Blake, and Evelyn Blake would laugh maliciously and tell it all through the school. Emily had no intention of doing either of these things. She knew from the moment she found the door locked just what she would do.

Starting point is 04:27:56 She would walk to New Moon and stay there. Months of suppressed chafing under Aunt Ruth's perpetual stings burst into a conflagration of revolt. Emily marched out of the gate, slammed it shut behind her with no Murray dignity but plenty of star passion, and started on her seven-mile walk through the midnight. Had it been three times seven she would have started just the same. So angry was she, and so angry she continued to be, that the walk did not seem long, nor, though she had no wrap save her cloth coat, did she feel the cold of the sharp April night. The winter snow had gone, but the bare road was hard-frozen and rough. No dainty footing for the thin kid's slippers of Cousin' Jimmy's Christmas box. Emily reflected with

Starting point is 04:28:47 what she considered a grim, sarcastic laugh, that it was, well, after all, that Aunt Ruth had insisted on cashmere stockings and a flannel petticoat. There was a moon that night, but the sky was covered with curdled gray clouds, and the harsh, bleak landscape lay dowerly in the pallid gray light. The wind came across it in sudden moaning gusts. Emily felt with considerable dramatic satisfaction that the night harmonized with her stormy, tragic mood. She would never go back to Aunt Ruth's, that was certain, no matter what Aunt Elizabeth might say, and she would say a plenty, no doubt of that, no matter what anyone would say. If Aunt Elizabeth would not let her go anywhere else to board, she would give up school altogether.

Starting point is 04:29:34 She knew it would cause a tremendous upheaval at New Moon. Never mind, in her very reckless mood upheaval seemed welcome things. It was time somebody upheaved. She would not humiliate herself another day. That she would not. Aunt Ruth had gone too far at last. You could not safely drive a star to desperation. I have done with Ruth Dutton forever,

Starting point is 04:29:58 without Emily, feeling a tremendous satisfaction leaving off the aunt. As she drew near home, the clouds cleared away suddenly, and when she turned into new moon lane, the austere beauty of the three tall Lombardiers against the moonlit sky made her catch her breath. Oh, how wonderful! For a moment she almost forgot her wrongs in Aunt Ruth. Then bitterness rushed over her soul again. Not even the magic of the three princesses could charm it away.

Starting point is 04:30:28 There was a light shining out of the New Moon kitchen window, falling on the tall white birches in lofty John's bush with a spectral effect. Emily wondered who could be up at New Moon. She had expected to find it in darkness and had meant to slip in by the front door and up to her own dear room, leaving explanations to the morning. Aunt Elizabeth always locked and barred the kitchen door every night with great ceremony before retiring, but the front door was never locked. Tramps and burglars would surely never be so ill-mannered as to come in the front door of New Moon.

Starting point is 04:31:05 Emily crossed the garden and peeped through the kitchen window. Cousin Jimmy was there alone, sitting by the table with two candles for company. On the table there was a stoneware crock, and just as Emily looked in, he absently put his hand into it and drew out a chubby donut. Cousin Jimmy's eyes were fixed on a big beef ham pendant from the ceiling, and Cousin Jimmy's lips moved soundlessly. There was no reasonable doubt that Cousin Jimmy was composing poetry, so why he was doing at that hour a night was a puzzle. Emily slipped around the house, opened the kitchen door gently, and walked in. Poor cousin Jimmy, in his amazement, tried to swallow half a donut hole and then couldn't speak for several seconds. Was this Emily, or an apparition?

Starting point is 04:31:56 Emily in a dark blue coat, an enchanting little red feather hat. Emily with wind-blown night black hair and tragic eyes. Emily with tattered kid slippers on her feet. Emily in this plight at New Moon when she should have been sound asleep on her maiden couch, in Shrewsbury? Cousin Jimmy seized the cold hands Emily held out to him. Emily, dear child, what has happened? Well, just to jump into the middle of things, I've left Aunt Ruth's and I'm not going back. Cousin Jimmy didn't say anything for a few moments, but he did a few things. First he tiptoed across the kitchen and carefully shut the sitting

Starting point is 04:32:41 room door. Then he gently filled the stove up with wood, drew up the chair to it, pushed Emily into it, and lifted her cold, ragged feet to the hearth. Then he lighted two more candles and put them on the chimney piece. Finally he sat down in his chair again and put his hands on his knees. Now tell me all about it. Emily, still in the throes of rebellion and indignation, told it pretty As soon as Cousin Jimmy got an inkling of what had really happened, he began to shake his head slowly. Continued to shake it. Shook it so long and gravely that Emily began to feel an uncomfortable conviction that instead of being a wrong, dramatic figure, she was by way of being a bit of a little fool.

Starting point is 04:33:31 The longer Cousin Jimmy shook his head, the smaller grew her heroics. When she had finished her story with a defiant, conclusion. I'm not going back to Aunt Ruth's anyhow. Cousin Jimmy gave a final way to his head and pushed the crock across the table. Have a donut, pussy! Emily hesitated. She was very fond of donuts, and it had been a long time since she had had her supper. But donuts seemed out of keeping with rebellion and turmoil.

Starting point is 04:34:01 They were decidedly reactionary in their tendencies. Some vague glimmering of this made Emily refuse the donut. Cousin Jimmy took one himself. So you're not going back to Shrewsbury. Not to Aunt Ruth, said Emily. It's the same thing, said Cousin Jimmy. Emily knew it was. She knew it was of no use to hope that Aunt Elizabeth would let her board elsewhere. And you walked all the way home over those roads. Cousin Jimmy shook his head. Well, you have spunk. Heaps of it. He added meditatively between bites.

Starting point is 04:34:42 Do you blame me? demanded Emily passionately, all the more passionately, because she felt some inward support had been shaken away by cousin Jimmy's head. No. It was a darn mean shame to lock you out, just like Ruth Dutton. And you see, don't you, that I can't go back after such an insult? Cousin Jimmy nibbled at the donut cautiously, as if bent on trying to see how near he could nibble to the hole without actually breaking through. I don't think any of your grandmothers would have given up a chance for an education so easily, he said.

Starting point is 04:35:20 Not on the Murray side, anyhow, he added after a moment's reflection, which apparently reminded him that he knew too little about the stars to dogmatize concerning them. Emily sat very still, as Teddy would have said in cricket parlance, cousin Jimmy had got her middle wicket with the first ball. She felt at once that when cousin Jimmy, in that diabolical fit of inspiration, dragged her grandmother's in, everything was over but the precise terms of surrender. She could see them all around her, the dear dead ladies of New Moon, Mary Shipley and Elizabeth Burnley and all the rest. mild determined restrained looking down with something of contemptuous pity on her their foolish impulsive descendant cousin jimmy appeared to think there might be some weakness on the star-side while there wasn't she would show him she had expected more sympathy from cousin jimmy she had known aunt elizabeth would condemn her and even aunt laura would look disappointed but she had counted on cousin jimmy taking her part he always had before "'My grandmothers never had to put up with Aunt Ruth,' she flung at him.

Starting point is 04:36:36 "'They had to put up with your grandfathers,' cousin Jimmy appeared to think that this was conclusive, as anyone who had known Archibald and Hugh Murray might have very well thought. "'Cousin Jimmy, do you think I ought to go back and accept Aunt Ruth's scolding and go on as if it had never happened?' "'What do you think about it?' asked Cousin Jimmy. Do take a donut, pussy. This time Emily took the donut. She might as well have some comfort. Now you can't eat donuts and remain dramatic.

Starting point is 04:37:11 Try it. Emily slipped from her peak of tragedy to the valley of petulance. Aunt Ruth has been abominable these past two months, ever since her bronchitis has prevented her from going out. You don't know what it's been like. Oh, I do, I do. Ruth Dutton never made anyone feel better pleased with herself. Feet getting warm, Emily.

Starting point is 04:37:37 I hate her, cried Emily, still grasping after self-justification. It's horrible to live in the same house with anyone you hate. Poisonous, agreed cousin Jimmy. And it isn't my fault. I've tried to like her, tried to please her. She's always twitting me. She attributes mean motives to everything I do or say or don't do, or do say, I've never heard the last of sitting in the corner of the pew and failing to get a starpin.

Starting point is 04:38:09 She's always hinting insults to my father and mother, and she's always forgiving me for things that I haven't done, or that don't need forgiveness. Aggravating, very conceited, cousin Jimmy. Aggravating, you're right. I know if I go back, she'll say, I'll forgive you this time, but don't let it happen again. and she will sniff. Oh, Aunt Ruth's sniff is the hatefulest sound in the world. Ever hear a dull knife sawing through thick cardboard, murmured cousin Jimmy. Emily ignored him and swept on. I can't be always in the wrong, but Aunt Ruth thinks I am,

Starting point is 04:38:51 and says she has to make allowances for me. She doses me with cod liver oil. She never lets me out in the evening if she can help it. consumptives should never be out after eight o'clock if she is cold i must put on an extra petticoat she is always asking disagreeable questions and refusing to believe my answers she believes and always will believe that i kept this play a secret from her because of slyness i never thought of such a thing why the shrewsbury times referred to it last week aunt ruth doesn't often miss anything in the times she twitted me for days because she found a composition of mine that I had signed. Emil. Better try to spell your name after some unheard of twist, she sneered. Well, isn't it a bit silly, pussy? Oh, I suppose my grandmothers wouldn't have done it, but Aunt Ruth needn't have kept it up as she did.

Starting point is 04:39:49 That is what is so dreadful. If she'd speak her mind on a thing and have done with it, why, I got a little spot of iron rust on my white petticoat and Aunt Ruth harped on it for weeks. She was determined to find out when it was rusted and how. And I hadn't the least idea. Really, cousin Jimmy, when this had gone on for three weeks, I thought I'd have to scream if she mentioned it again. Any proper person would feel the same, cousin Jimmy said to the beef ham. Oh, any one of these things is only a pinprick, I know, and you think I'm silly to mind it. But— No, no, a hundred pinpricks would be harder to be.

Starting point is 04:40:32 to put up with than a broken leg. I'd sooner be knocked on the head and be done with it. Yes, that's it. Nothing but pinpricks all the time. She won't let Isle come to the house, or Teddy or Perry. Nobody but that stupid Andrew. I'm so tired of him. She wouldn't let me go to the prep dance. They had a sleigh drive and supper at the brown teapot in, and a little dance. Everybody went but me. It was the event of the winter. If I go for a while, walk in the land of uprightness at sunset. She is sure there is something sinister in it. She never wants to walk in the land of uprightness. So why should I? She says I have got too high of an opinion of myself. I haven't. Have I, cousin Jimmy? No, said cousin Jimmy thoughtfully. High, but not too high.

Starting point is 04:41:26 She says I'm always displacing things. If I look out a window, she'll trot across the room and mathematically match the corners of the curtains again. And it's why, why, why, all the time, Cousin Jimmy. I know you feel a lot better now that you've got that out of your system, said Cousin Jimmy. Another donut. Emily, with a sigh of surrender, took her feet off the stove and moved over to the table. The crock of donuts was between her and Cousin Jimmy. She was very hungry. Ruth, give you enough to eat, queried Cousin Jimmy anxiously. Oh, yes, Aunt Ruth keeps up one new moon tradition, at least. She has a good table, but there are no snacks.

Starting point is 04:42:12 And you always liked a tasty bite at bedtime, didn't you? But you took a box back last time you were home? Aunt Ruth confiscated it. That's it. She put it in the pantry and served its contents up at meal times. These donuts are good, and there is always something exciting and lawless about eating at on earthly hours like this, isn't there? How did you happen to be up, cousin Jimmy? A sick cow. I thought I'd better sit up and look after her. It was lucky for me you were.

Starting point is 04:42:46 Oh, I'm in my proper senses again, cousin Jimmy. Of course, I know you think I've been a little fool. Everybody's a fool in some particular, said cousin Jimmy. Well, I'll go back and bite the sour apple without a grimace. Lie down on the sofa and have a little bit. have a nap. I'll hitch up the gray mare and drive you back as soon as it begins to be daylight. No, that won't do it all. Several reasons. In the first place, the roads aren't fit for wheels or runners. In the second place, we couldn't drive away from here without Aunt Elizabeth hearing us. And then she'd find out all about it, and I don't want her to. We'll keep my foolishness a dark and deadly secret between me and you, cousin Jimmy. Then how are you going to get back to Shrewsbury?

Starting point is 04:43:31 Walk Walk to Shrewsbury At this hour of the night Haven't I just walked from Shrewsbury at this hour? I can do it again And it won't be any harder Than bumping over those awful roads Behind the Grey Mare

Starting point is 04:43:46 Of course I'll put something on my feet That will be a little more protection than kid slippers I've ruined your Christmas present in my brainstorm There's a pair of my old boots in the closet there I'll put them on and my old Elster. I'll be back in Trusbury by daylight. I'll start as soon as we finish the donuts.

Starting point is 04:44:06 Let's lick the platter clean, Cousin Jimmy. Cousin Jimmy yielded. After all, Emily was young and wiry. The night was fine, and the less Elizabeth knew about some things, the better for all concerned. With a sigh of relief that the affair had turned out so well, he had really been afraid at first that Emily's underlying stubbornness had been reached

Starting point is 04:44:28 and then, "'Few, cousin Jimmy settled down to the donuts. "'How's the writing coming on?' he asked. "'I've written a good deal lately, "'though it's pretty cold in my room mornings, "'but I love it so. "'It's my dearest dream to do something worthwhile someday.' "'So you will.

Starting point is 04:44:48 "'You haven't been pushed down well,' said cousin Jimmy. "'Emily patted his hand. "'None realized better than she "'what cousin Jimmy might have done if he, had not been pushed down a well. When the donuts were finished off, Emily donned her old boots and ulster. It was a very shabby garment, but her young moon beauty shone over it like a star in the old dim candle-lighted room. Cousin Jimmy looked up at her. He thought that she was a gifted, beautiful, joyous creature, and that some things were a shame. Tall and stately, tall and stately

Starting point is 04:45:26 like all our women, he murmured dreamily, except Aunt Ruth, he asked. said. Emily laughed and made a face. Aunt Ruth will make the most of her inches in our forthcoming interview. This will last her the rest of the year. But don't worry, cousin darling. I won't do any more foolish things for quite a long time now. This has cleared the air. Aunt Elizabeth will think it was dreadful of you to eat a whole crock full of donuts yourself, you greedy cousin Jimmy. Do you want another blank book? Not yet. The last one you gave me is only half full yet. A blank book lasts me quite a while when I can't write stories. Oh, I wish I could, cousin Jimmy. The time will come, the time will come, said cousin Jimmy encouragingly. Wait a while, just wait a while. If we don't chase things, sometimes the things following us can catch up. Through wisdom is an old house built and buy all precious and pleasant riches. All precious and pleasant riches, Emily.

Starting point is 04:46:31 Proverbs 24, 3rd, and 5th. He let Emily out and bolted the door. He put out all the candles but one. He glared at it for a few moments. Then, satisfied that Elizabeth could not hear him, Cousin Jimmy said fervently, Ruth Dutton can go to, to, to, cousin Jimmy's courage failed him.

Starting point is 04:46:55 To heaven! Emily went back to Shrewsbury through the, clear moonlight. She had expected the walk to be dreary and weary, robbed of the impetuous anger and rebellion had given. But she found that it had become transmuted into a thing of beauty, and Emily was one of the eternal slaves of beauty, of whom Carmen sings, who are yet masters of the world. She was tired, but her tiredness showed itself in a certain exultation of feeling and imagination, such as she often experienced when over fatigue. thought was quick and active. She had a series of brilliant imaginary conversations and

Starting point is 04:47:34 thought out so many epigrams that she was agreeably surprised at herself. It was good to feel vivid and interesting and all alive once more. She was alone, but not lonely. As she walked along, she dramatized the night. There was about it a wild, lawless charm that appealed to a certain wild, lawless strain hidden deep in Emily's nature, a strain that wished to walk where it would with no guidance but its own, the strain of the gypsy and the poet, the genius, and the fool. The big fir trees released from their burden of snow were tossing their arms freely and wildly and gladly across the moonlit fields. Was ever anything so beautiful as the shadows of those gray, clean-limbed maples on the road at her feet? The houses she passed were full of intriguing mystery.

Starting point is 04:48:27 She liked to think of the people who lay there, dreaming, and saw in sleep what waking life denied them. Of little children's dear hands folded an exquisite slumber, of hearts that perhaps kept sorrowful, wakeful vigils, of lonely arms that reached out in the emptiness of the night, all while she, Emily, flitted by like a shadowy rath of the small hours. And it was easy to think, too, that other things were abroad, things that were not mortal or human. She always lived on the edge of Fairyland, and now she stepped right over it. The wind woman was really whistling eerily in the reeds of the swamp. She was sure she heard the deer, diabolical chuckles of owls in the spruce copses. Something frisked

Starting point is 04:49:16 cross her path. It might be a rabbit, or it might be a little gray person. The trees put on half-pleasing, half-terifying shapes they never wore by day. The dead thistles of last year were goblin groups along the fences. That shaggy old yellow birch with some satire of the woodland, the footsteps of the old gods echoed around her. Those gnarled stumps on the hill-field were surely pan, piping through the moonlight and shadow with his troop of laughing Fonds. It was delightful to believe they were. One loses so much when one becomes incredulous, said Emily, and then thought that it was a rather clever remark and wished she had a Jimmy book to write it down. So having washed her soul free from

Starting point is 04:50:05 bitterness in the aerial bath of the spring night and tingling from head to foot with the wild, strange, sweet life of the spirit, she came to Aunt Ruth's when the faint purpleish hills east of the harbor were growing clear under a whitening sky. She had expected to find the door still locked, but the knob turned as she tried it and she went in. Aunt Ruth was up and was lighting the kitchen fire. On the way from New Moon, Emily had thought over a dozen different ways of saying what she meant to say, and now she used not one of them. At the last moment, an impish inspiration came to her. Before Aunt Ruth could or would speak, Emily said, Ruth, I've come back to tell you that I forgive you, but that this must not happen again.

Starting point is 04:50:53 To tell the truth, Mistress Ruth Dutton was considerably relieved that Emily had come back. She had been afraid of Elizabeth and Laura. Murray family Rose were bitter things, and truly a little afraid of the results to Emily herself if she had really gone to New Moon in those thin shoes and that insufficient coat. For Ruth Dutton was not a fiend, only a rather stupid, stubborn little bit. barnyard foul trying to train up a skylark. She was honestly afraid that Emily might catch a cold and go into consumption. And if Emily took it into her head not to come back to Shrewsbury, well that would make talk. And Ruth Dutton hated talk when she or her doings was a subject.

Starting point is 04:51:37 So, with all things considered, she decided to ignore the impertinence of Emily's greeting. Did you spend the night on the streets? She asked. grimmily. Oh, dear no. I went out to New Moon, had a chat with cousin Jimmy in some lunch, then walked back. Did you see Elizabeth, or Laura? No, they were asleep. Miss Dutton reflected that this was just as well. Well, she said coldly, you have been guilty of great ingratitude, Emily, but I'll forgive you this time, then stopped abruptly. Hadn't that been said already this morning. Before she could think of a substitute remark, Emily had vanished upstairs. Mistress Ruth Dutton was left with the unpleasant sensation that, somehow or the other,

Starting point is 04:52:26 she had not come out of the affair quite as triumphantly as she should have. End of Chapter 10. Chapter 11 of Emily Climes. This is a Libri Box recording. On Libri Box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer here please visit liverybox.org Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery Chapter 11 Heights and Hallows

Starting point is 04:53:05 Shrewsbury April 28th 1900s This was my weekend at New Moon and I came back this morning consequently This is Blue Monday

Starting point is 04:53:19 And I'm homesick Aunt Ruth 2. Is always a little more unlivable on Mondays, or seems so by contrast with Aunt Lara and Aunt Elizabeth. Cousin Jimmy wasn't quite so nice these weekends as he usually is. He had several of his queer spells and was a bit grumpy for two reasons. In the first place, several of his young apaltries are dying because they were girdled by mice in the winter. And in the second place he can induce Aunt Elizabeth to try the new creamers that everyone else is using. For my own part I'm secretly glad that she won't.

Starting point is 04:54:11 I don't want our beautiful old dairy and the glossy brown milk pans to be improved out of existence. I can't think of new moon without a dairy. When I could get cousin Jimmy's mind off his grievances, we explored the Carlton catalog and discussed the best selections to make for my two dollars worth of all's laughter. We planned a dozen different combinations and beds and got several hundred dollars worth of fan out of it but finally settled on a long narrow bed full of asters lavender down the middle white around it and the border of pale pink with clamps of deep purple for sentinels at the four corners i am sure it will be beautiful and i shall look at its september loveliness and think this came out of my head i have taken another step in the alpine path last week the lady's own journal accepted my poem

Starting point is 04:55:28 the wind woman and gave me two subscriptions to the journal for it no cash but that may come yet i must make enough money before very long to pay aunt ruth every cent my living with her has cost her. Then she won't be able to treat me. With the expense I am to her, she hardly misses a day, without some hint of it. No, Mrs. Betty, I feel I can give quite as much to missions, this year as usual. My expenses have been much heavier, you know? Oh no, Mr. Morrison. Your new goods are beautiful, but I can't afford a silk dress this spring. This Devon Port should really be upholstered again. It's getting fearfully shabby, but it's out of the question now for a year or two. So it goes.

Starting point is 04:56:32 But my soul doesn't belong to Aunt Ruth. Old's laughter was capped in the shrews' very times. hunters moan and all. Evelyn Blake, I understand, says she doesn't believe I wrote it at all. She's sure she read something exactly like it somewhere some years ago. Dear Evelyn, Aunt Elizabeth said nothing at all about it, but cousin Jimmy told me she cut it out and put it in the Bible she keeps on the stand by her bed. When I told her I was to get two dollars' worth of seeds for it.

Starting point is 04:57:14 She said, I'd likely find, when I sent for them, that the firm had gone bankrupt. I have a notion to send that little story about the child that Mr. Carpenter liked to golden hours. I wish I could get it typewritten, but that is impassable, so I shall have to write it very plainly. I wonder if I dare. They would surely pay for a story. Dean will soon be home. How glad I will be to see him. I wonder if he will think I have changed much.

Starting point is 04:57:54 I have certainly grown taller. Aunt Lara says I will soon have to have really long dresses and put my hair up. But Aunt Elizabeth says 15 is too young for that. for that. She says girls are not so womanly at 15 nowadays as they were in her time. Aunt Elizabeth is really frightened. I know that if she lets me grow up, I'll be eloping, like Juliet. But I am in no hurry to grow up. It's nicer to be just like this. Beatrix and between. Then, if I want to be childish,

Starting point is 04:58:38 I can be, none daring to make me ashamed, and if I want to behave maturely, I have the authority of my extra inches. It's a gentle, rainy evening tonight. There are pussy willows out in the swamp, and some young birches in the land of uprightness have cast a veil of transparent purple over their bare limbs. I think I will write a poem on a vision of spring. May 5th, 1900s. There has been quite an outbreak of spring poetry in high school.

Starting point is 04:59:21 Evelyn has won in the May quill on flowers, very wabbly rhymes. And Perry, he also felt the annual spring urge, as Mr. Carpenter calls it, and wrote a dreadful thing called the old farmer's sows his seed. He sent it to the quill, and the quill actually printed it in the joke's column. Perry is quite proud of it and doesn't realize that he has made an ass of himself. Ilsa turned pale with fury when she read it and hasn't spoken to him since. she says he isn't fit to associate with. Ilsa is far too hard on Perry,

Starting point is 05:00:12 and yet when I read the thing, especially the verse, I've plowed and harrowed and sown. I've done my best. Now I'll leave the crap alone, and let God do the rest. I wanted to murder him myself. Perry can't understand what is wrong with it. It rhymes, doesn't it?

Starting point is 05:00:36 Oh, yes, it rhymes. Elsa has also been raging at Perry lately, because he has been coming to school with all but one button off his coat. I couldn't endure it myself, so when we came out of class, I whispered to Perry to meet me for five minutes, by the foreign pool at sunset.

Starting point is 05:01:02 I slipped out with me, needle thread and buttons and sewed them on he didn't see why it wouldn't have done to wait till friday night and have on tom sew them on i said why didn't you sew them on yourself perry i've no buttons and no money to buy any he said but never mind some day i will have gold buttons if i want them aunt ruth saw me coming in with thread and scissors etc and of course wanted to know where what and why i told her the whole tale and she said you'd better let perry miller's friends sow his buttons on for him i'm the best friend he's got i said i don't know where you get your low tastes from said aunt ruth may seventh nineteen hundred's this afternoon after school teddy rode elsa and me across the harbor to pick may flowers in the spruce barrens up the green river we got basketfuls and spent a perfect hour wandering about the barrens with the friendly murmur of the little fir trees all around us as somebody said of strawberries so say i of may flowers god might have made a sweeter blossom but never did

Starting point is 05:02:44 when we left for home a thick white fog had come in over the bar and filled the harbor but teddy rode in the direction of the train whistles so we hadn't any trouble really and i thought the experience quite wonderful. We seemed to be floating over a white sea in an unbroken calm. There was no sound wave, the faint moan of the bar, the deep sea called beyond, and the low deep of the oars in the glassy water. We were alone in a world of mist and on a veiled shoreless sea. Now and then, for just a moment, a cool air current, lifted the mist, curtain, and dim coasts loomed phantom-like around us.

Starting point is 05:03:39 Then the blank whiteness shut down again. It was as though we sucked more strange, enchanted chore that ever received farther and farther. I was really sorry

Starting point is 05:03:53 when we get to the wharf. But when I reached home, I found untruth, all worked up on account of the fog i knew i shouldn't have allowed you to go she said there wasn't any danger really aunt ruth i protested and look at my lovely may flowers aunt ruth wouldn't look at the may flowers no danger in a white fog suppose you had got lost and a wind had come up before you reached How could one get lost on a little Shrewsbury Harbor, Aunt Ruth? I said, the fog was wonderful, wonderful. It just seemed as if we were voyaging over the planet's rim into the depth of space.

Starting point is 05:04:50 I spoke enthusiastically, and I suppose I looked a bit wild with mist drops on my hair, for Aunt Ruth said coldly, pittingly. It is unfortunate that you are so excitable, Emily. It is mothering to be frozen and pitted, so I answered recklessly. But think of the fun you miss when you're non-excitable, Aunt Ruth, there is nothing more wonderful than dancing around a blazing fire. What matter if it is a... in ashes when you are as old as i am said aunt ruth you will have more sense than to go into ecstasies over white fox

Starting point is 05:05:41 it seems to me impossible that i shall either grow old or die i know i will of course but i don't believe it i didn't make any answer to aunt ruth so she started on another tech i was watching else go past emily thus that girl wear any petticoats her clothing is silk and purple i murmured quoting the bible verse simply because there's something in it that charms me one couldn't imagine a finer or simpler description of a gorgeously dressed woman i don't think and rude recognized the quotation. She thought I was just trying to be smart. If you mean that she wears a purple silk petticoat, Emily? Say so in plain English. Silk petticoats, indeed. If I had anything to do with her, I'll silk petticoat her. Some day I am going to wear silk petticoats, I said. Oh, indeed miss and may ask what you have got to get silk petticoats with i've got a future i said as probably as the murriest of all murrays could have said it

Starting point is 05:07:14 aunt ruth sniffed i have filled my room with may flowers and even lord byron looks as if there might be a chance of recovery may thirteenth nineteen hundred I have made the plunge and sent my story something different to golden hours. I actually trembled as I dropped it into the box at the shop. Oh, if it should be accepted. Perry has said the school laughing again. He said in class that France exported fashions. Else walked up to him when class came out and said, Use pawn. She hasn't spoken to him since.

Starting point is 05:08:04 Evelyn continues to say sweet cutting things and laugh. I might forgive her the cutting things but never the laugh. May 15th, 1900s. We had our prep pow-wow last night. It always comes off in May. We had it in the assembly room of the school. and when we got there we found we couldn't light the gas we didn't know what was the matter but suspected the juniors today we discovered they had cut off the gas in the basement and locked the basement doors at first we didn't know what to do then i remembered that aunt elizabeth had brought aunt ruth a big box of candle

Starting point is 05:08:58 last week for my use. I tore home and got them, and Ruth being out, and we stacked them all around the room. So we had our pow-wow after all, and it was a brilliant success. We had such fun improvising candle holders that we get off to a good start,

Starting point is 05:09:22 and somehow the candle light was so much more friendly, and inspiring than yes. We all seem to be able to think of wittier things to say. Everybody was supposed to make a speech on any subject he or she wished. Perry made the speech of the evening. He had prepared a speech on Canadian history, very sensible and, I suspect, dull. But at the last minute,

Starting point is 05:09:57 he changed his mind and spoke on candles, just making it up as he went along, telling of all the candles he saw in different lands when he was a little boy sailing with his father. It was so witty and interesting that we sat enthralled and I think the students will forget about French fashions and the old farmer who left the hoeing and weaving to God. Aunt Ruth hasn't found out about the candles yet,

Starting point is 05:10:36 as the old box isn't quite empty. When I go to New Moon tomorrow night, I'll coax Aunt Lara to give me another box. I know she will, and I'll bring them to Aunt Ruth. May 22nd, 1900. Today there was a hateful long fat envelope for me in the mail. Golden Hours had spent my story back, the accompanying rejection slip said, We have read your story with interest and regret to say that we cannot accept it for publication at the present time.

Starting point is 05:11:20 At first I tried to extract a little comfort from the fact that they had read it with keen interest Then it came home to me That the rejection slip was a printed one So of course it is just what they send With all rejected manuscripts The worst of it was that Aunt Ruth Had seen the packet before I got home from me

Starting point is 05:11:50 school and had opened it it was humiliating to have her know of my failure i hope this will convince you that you'd better waste no more stamps on such nonsense emily the idea of your thinking you could write the story fit to be published i've had to poems published i cried and wrath sniffed oh poems of course they have to have something to fill up the corners perhaps it's so i felt very flat as i crawled off to my room with my poor story i was quite content to feel a little space then you could have packed me in a thimble my story is all dog-eared and smells of tobacco i've a notion to burn it no i won't i'll cap it out again and try somewhere else i will succeed i think from glancing over the recent pages of this journal that i am beginning to be able to do without italics but sometimes they're necessary new moon blared water may twenty fourth nineteen hundreds for love the winter is past the rain is over and gone the flowers appear on the earth the time of the singing of birds has come i am sitting on the seal of my open window in my own dear room it's so lovely to get back to it every now and then

Starting point is 05:13:44 out there over lefty john's bush is a soft yellow sky and one very white little star is just visible where the pale yellow shades off into paler green far off down in the south in regions mild of calm and serene air are great cloud palaces of rosy marble Leaning over the fence is a chalk cherry tree that is a mass of blossoms like creamy caterpillars. Everything is so lovely. The eye is not satisfied with seeing nor the ear with hearing. Sometimes I think it really isn't worthwhile to try to write anything when everything is already so well expressed in the Bible. that verse i've just quoted for instance it makes me feel like a pygmy in the presence of a giant only twelve simple words yet a dozen pages couldn't have better expressed the feeling one has in spring

Starting point is 05:15:04 this afternoon cousin jimmy and i sewed our astor bed the seeds came promptly evidently The firm has not gone bankrupt yet, but Aunt Elizabeth thinks they are all stack and won't grow. Dean is home. He was down to see me last night. Dear old Dean, he hasn't changed a bit. His green eyes are as green as ever, and his nice mouth as nice as ever, and his interesting face as interesting. as ever. He took both my hands and looked earnestly at me. You have changed star? He said. You look more like spring than ever, but don't grow any taller. He went on. I don't want to have you looking down on me.

Starting point is 05:16:05 I don't want you either. I'd hate to be taller than Dean. It wouldn't seem right at all. Teddy is an inch taller than I am. Dean says he has improved greatly in his drawings this past year. Mrs. Kent still hates me. I met her tonight when I was out for a walk with myself in the spring twilight. And she would not even step to speak to me, just slipped by me, like a shadow in the twilight. She looked at me for a second as she passed me, and her eyes were pulls of hatred. I think she grows more unhappy every year.

Starting point is 05:16:54 In my walk I went and said good evening to the disappointed house. I am always so sorry for it. It is a house that has never lived, that has not fulfilled its destiny, Its blind windows seemed peering wistfully from its face as if seeking vainly for what they cannot find. No home light has ever gleamed through them in summer dusk or winter darkness. And yet I feel somehow that the little house has kept its dream and that sometime it will come true. I wish I owned it. I dandered around all my old hounds tonight.

Starting point is 05:17:46 Lofty John's Bush, Emily's Bower, the old orchard, the pond graveyard, the today road, I love that little road, it's like a personal friend to me. I think dandering is a lovely word of its kind, not in itself exactly. like some words, but because it is so perfectly expressive of its own meaning. Even if you'd never heard it before, you'd know exactly what it meant. Dandering could only mean dandering. The discovery of beautiful and interesting words always gives me joy. When I find a new charming word, I exalt as a jewel seeker.

Starting point is 05:18:37 and I am unhappy until I've said it in a sentence. May 29th, 1900s. Tonight Aunt Ruth came home with a pretentious face. Emily, what does this story mean? That is all over Shrewsbury that you were seen standing on Queen Street last night, with a man's arms around you. Kissing him? I knew in a minute what had happened.

Starting point is 05:19:09 I wanted to stamp. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to tear my hair. The whole thing was so absurd and ludicrous. But I had to keep a grave face and explain to Aunt Ruth. This is the dark and holly tale. Elsa and I were dundering along Queen Street last night at dusk, just by the old tailor-house we met a man i do not know the man not likely i shall ever know him i do not know if he was tall or short old or young handsome or ugly

Starting point is 05:19:51 black or white jew or gentile bond or free but i do know he hadn't shaved that day he was walking at a brisk pace then something happened which passed in the wink of an eye but take several seconds to the scribe i stepped aside to let him pass he stepped in the same direction i darted the other way so did he then i thought i saw a chance of getting past and i made a wild dash he made a dash with the result that i ran full till against him. He had thrown out his arms. When he realized a collision was unavoidable, I went right between them, and in the shack of the encounter they involuntarily closed around me, for a moment while my nose came into violent contact with his chin. I, I beg your pardon, the poor creature gasped, grabbed me as if I was. I wear a hat cold and tore off around the corner.

Starting point is 05:21:09 Else was in fits. She said she had never seen anything so funny in her life. It had all passed so quickly that to a bystander, it looked exactly as if that man and I had stabbed, gazed at each other for a moment, and then rushed madly into each other's arms. my nose ached for blacks elsa said she saw miss taylor peering from the window just as it happened of course that old gossip has spread the story with her own interpretation of it i explained all this to aunt ruth who reminded incredulous and seemed to consider it a very limping tale indeed

Starting point is 05:22:04 It's a very strange thing, that on a sidewalk, twelve feet wide, you couldn't get past a man without embracing him. She said, Come now, Aunt Ruth, I said, I know you think me sly and deep and foolish and ungrateful, but you know I am half murray, and do you think any murray in her? would embrace a gentleman friend on the public street oh i did think you could hardly be so brazen admitted aunt ruth but miss taylor said she saw it every one has heard it i do not like to have one of my family talked about like that it would not have occurred if you had not been out with elsie burneley in defiance of my family in defiance of of my advice don't let anything like this happen again things like that don't happen i said they are foreordained june third nineteen hundreds the land of uprightness is a thing of beauty i can go to the foreign pool to write again aunt ruth is very suspicious of this performance she has had

Starting point is 05:23:34 never forgotten that I met Perry there one evening. The pool is very lovely now, under its new young firms. I look into it and imagine it is the legendary pool in which one could see the future. I picture myself tip-tching to it at midnight by full moon, casting something precious into it, then looking timidly at one what I saw. What would it show me? The alpine path gloriously climbed or failure? No, never failure. June 9th, 1900s. Last week Aunt Ruth had a birthday and I gave her a centerpiece which I had embroidered. she thanked me rather stiffly and didn't seem to care anything about it. Tonight I was sitting in the bay window recess of the dining room,

Starting point is 05:24:40 doing my algebra by the last light. The folding doors were open, and Aunt Ruth was talking to Mrs. Inns in the parlor. I thought they knew I was in the bay, but I suppose the curtains hit me. All at once I heard my name. Aunt Ruth was showing the centerpiece to Mrs. Ian's quite proudly. My niece, Emily, gave me this on my birthday.

Starting point is 05:25:14 See how beautiful it is done. She is very skillful with her needle. Could this be Aunt Ruth? I was so petrified with amazement. that i couldn't neither move nor speak she is clever with more than her needle said mrs innes i hear principal hardy expects her to head her class in the terminal examinations her mother my sister juliet was a very clever girl said aunt ruth And she is quite pretty, too, said Mrs. Inns. Her father, Douglas Star, was a remarkably handsome man, said Aunt Ruth.

Starting point is 05:26:06 They went out then. For once, an eavesdropper heard something good of herself. But from Aunt Ruth. June 17, 1900s. My candle goeth not out. by night now, at least not until quite late, and Ruth lets me sit up, because the terminal examinations are on. Perry infuriated Mr. Travers by writing at the end of his algebra paper. Matthew 7.5. When Mr. Travers turned it up, he read, thou hypocrite first cast out the beam out of thine own eye and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the moat out of thy brother's eye

Starting point is 05:27:02 mr travers is credited with knowing much less about mathematics than he pretends to so he was furious and threw parry's paper out as a punishment for impertinence the truth is poor perry made a mistake he meant to write matthew five seven blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy he went and explained to mr travers but mr travers wouldn't listen then elsa bearded the lion in his den that is went to principal hardy told him the tale and induced him to her seat with Mr. Travers. As a result, Perry got his marks, but was warned not to juggle with scripture texts again. June 28, 1900s. Schools out. I have won my star pen. It has been a great old year of fun and study and stinks. And now I'm going back to dear new moon for two splendid months of freedom and happiness. I'm going to write a garden book in vacation.

Starting point is 05:28:25 The idea has been sizzling in my brain for some time. And since I can't write stories, I shall try my hand at the series of essays on Cassing Jimmy's garden. With a poem for a tale piece to each essay, It will be good practice and will please cousin Jimmy. End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 of Emily Climes. This is a Libre Box recording.

Starting point is 05:29:05 On Livre Box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit liverybox.org. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Mungardons. summary. Chapter 12. A design of the haystack. Why do you want to do a thing like that? said Aunt Ruth, sniffing, of course. A sniff may always be taken for granted with each of Aunt Ruth's remarks, even when the present biographer omits mention of it. To poke some daughters into my slim purse, said Emily. holidays were over.

Starting point is 05:29:52 The garden book had been written and read in installments to cousin Jimmy in the desks of July and August, to his great delight and now it was September, with its return to school and status, the land of uprightness, and Aunt Ruth, Emily, with skirts a fraction longer, and her hair clapped up so high, in the Cadogan braid of those days, that it really was almost up, was back in Shrewsbury for her junior year, and she had just told Anne Ruth what she meant to do on her Shrews-Berry Saturdays for the autumn.

Starting point is 05:30:40 The editor of the Shrews-Berry Times was planning a special illustrated Shurisbury edition and Emily was going to cancel. as much of the contrary as she could cover four subscriptions to it. She had wrung a rather reluctant consent from Aunt Elizabeth, a consent which could never have been exhorted if Aunt Elizabeth had been paying all Emily's expenses at school. But there was Wallace paying for her books and tuition fees,

Starting point is 05:31:16 and occasionally hinting to Elizabeth. to Elizabeth that he was a very fine, generous fellow to do so. Elizabeth, in her secret heart, was not over-fond of her brother Wallace, and resented his splendid airs over the little help he was extending to Emily. So, when Emily pointed out that she could easily earn, during the fall, at least have enough to pay for her books for the whole, year Elizabeth yielded Wallace would have been offended if she Elizabeth had insisted on paying Emily's expenses when he took a notion to do it but he could not reasonably resent Emily earning part for herself he was always preaching that girls should be self-reliant and able to earn their own way of life aunt ruth could not refuse when elizabeth had assented

Starting point is 05:32:23 but she did not approve. The idea of you wandering over the country alone? Oh, I'll not be alone. Elsa is going with me, said Emily. Aunt Ruth did not seem to consider this much of an improvement. We're going to begin Thursday, said Emily. There is no school Friday, owning to the death of the principal Herdi's father. and our classes are over at three on Thursday afternoon.

Starting point is 05:32:59 We're going to canvas the Western Road that evening. May I ask if you intend to camp on the side of the road? Oh no. We'll spend the night with Elsa's aunt at Wiltony. Then on Friday we'll get back to the Western Road, finish it that day and spend Friday night with Mary Carswell's people at St. Clair, then work home Saturday, by the River Road.

Starting point is 05:33:32 It's perfectly absurd, said Aunt Ruth. No Murray ever did such a thing. I'm surprised at Elizabeth. It simply isn't decent for two young girls, like you and Elsa, to be wandering alone over the country for three days. what do you suppose could happen to us asked emily a good many things might happen said aunt ruth severely she was right a good many things might and did happen in that excursion but emily and elza set off in high spirits thursday afternoon two graceless schoolgirls with an eye for the funny side of everything and that determination to have a good time.

Starting point is 05:34:28 Emily especially was feeling uplifted. There had been another thin letter in the mail that day, with the address of a third red magazine in the corner, offering her three subscriptions to the said magazine for her poem Night in the Garden, which had formed the conclusion of her garden book and was considered both by herself and cousin Jimmy to be the jam of the volume. Emily had left the garden book, locked up in the mantle capboard off her room at New Moon, but she meant to send copies of its tail pieces to various publications during the fall.

Starting point is 05:35:18 It argued well that the first one sent had been accepted so well. promptly. Well, we're off, she said, over the hills and far away. What an alluring old phrase. Anything may be beyond those hills ahead of us. I hope we'll get lots of material for our essays, said Elsa practically. Principal Hardy had informed the junior English class that he would require several essays from them during the full term, and Emily and Elsa had decided that one at least of their essays should recount their experiences in canvassing for subscriptions from their separate points of view. Thus, they had two strings to their bow. I suggest we work along the Western Road and its branches as far as Hunter's Creek

Starting point is 05:36:21 tonight, said Emily. We ought to get there by sunset. Then we can hit the Gypsy Trail across the country, through the Marlbourne woods and come out on the other side of them, quite near Wiltony. It's only half an hour's walk, while around by the Malvern Road, it's an hour. What lovely afternoon this is. It was a lovely afternoon such an afternoon as only September can produce when summer has stolen back for one more day of dream and glamour harvest fields drenched in sunshine lay all around them the austere charm of Northern Furrs made wonderful the ways over which they walked golden-red bereaved and the fences and

Starting point is 05:37:18 the sacrificial fires of Willow Arab were kindled on all the burned lands along the sequestered roads back among the hills. But they soon discovered that canvassing for subscriptions was not all fun, though to be sure, as Elsa said. They found plenty of human nature for their essays. There was the old man who said, At the end of every remark Emily made. When finally asked for a subscription, he roughly said no. I'm glad you didn't say humph this time, said Emily.

Starting point is 05:38:04 It was getting monotonous. The old fellow stared, then tackled. Are you any relation to the proud Murray's? I worked at the place they called New Moon. when I was young and one of the Murray girls, Elizabeth, her name was, had a sort of high and lofty way, all looking at you like yours. My mother was a Murray. I was thinking so. You bared the stamp of the breed. Well, here's two dollars and you can put my name down.

Starting point is 05:38:41 I'd rather see the special edition for I subscribe. I don't favor buying bear skin for I see the bear, but it's worth two dollars to see a proud Murray coming down to asking old Billy's cat for a subscription. Why didn't you slay him with a glance? asked Elsa as they walked away. Emily was walking savagely, with her head held high and her eyes snapping.

Starting point is 05:39:13 I'm out to get subscriptions, not to make widows, I didn't expect it would be all plain sailing. There was another man who growled all the way through Emily's explanations, and then, when she was primed for refusal, gave her five subscriptions. He likes to disappoint people, she told Elsa, as they went down the lane. he would rather disappoint them agreeably than not at all one man swore volubly not at anything in particular but just at large as elsa said and another old man was on the point of subscribing when his wife interfered i wouldn't if i was you father the editor of that paper is an infidel very impudent of him to be sure said father and put his money back in his wallet delicious murmured emily when she was out of ear-shed i must die that down in my jimmy book as a rule the woman received them more politely than man but the man gave them more subscriptions indeed the only woman who subscribed

Starting point is 05:40:40 was an elderly dam whose heart emily won by listening sympathetically to a long account of the beauty and virtues of the said elderly ladies deceased pet though it must be admitted that she whispered aside to elza at its conclusion chavletown papers please copy their worst experience was with a man who treated them to a tirade of abuse because his politics deferred from the politics of the times and he seemed to hold them responsible for it when he halt it for breath emily stood up kick the dog then you'll feel better she said calmly as she stuck out Elsa was white with rage. Could you have believed people could be so detestable? She exploded. To rate us, as if we were responsible for the politics of the times.

Starting point is 05:41:49 Well, human nature from a canvassar's point of view is to be the subject of my essay. I'll describe that man and picture myself telling him all the things I wanted to and did it. Emily broke into laughter and found her temper again. You can. I can't even take that revenge. My promise to Aunt Elizabeth binds me. I shall have to stick to facts. Come, let's not think of the brute. After all, we've got quite a lot of subscriptions already.

Starting point is 05:42:28 And there's a clamp of white birches in which it is reasonably certain, a dry out leaves, and that cloud over the firs looks like the faint, golden ghost of a cloud. Nevertheless, I should have liked to reduce that old vampire to powder, said Elsa. At the next place of hall, however, their experience was pleasant, and they were asked to stay for supper. By sunset, they had done reasonably well in the matter of summer of summer. subscriptions and had accumulated enough private jokes and by words to Fordnish Van for many moons of reminiscence. They decided to canvas no more that night. They had not quite as far as Hunter's Creek, but Emily thought it would be safe to make a cross cat from where they were.

Starting point is 05:43:28 The Malvern woods were not so very extensive and no matter where they were. came out on the northern side of them. They would be able to see wiltly. They climbed the fence, went up across a hill pasture field, feathered with asters, and were swallowed up by the malvern woods, crossed and recrusted by dozens of trails. The world disappeared behind them, and they were alone in a realm of wild beauty. Emily thought the walk through the woods all too short, though tired Elsa, whose foot had turned on a pebble earlier in the day, found it unpleasantly long. Emily liked everything about it. She liked to see that shining gold head of Elsa's sleeping through the grey-green tranks under the long, swaying bows.

Starting point is 05:44:27 She liked the faint, grim-like notes of sleepy birds. She liked the leafy, wandering, whispering, tricksy wind or dusk among the tree crests. She liked the incredibly delicate fragrance of wood flowers and growths. She liked the little ferns that brushed Elsa's silken ankles. She liked that slender white tantalizing thing, which gleamed out for a moment down the dim vista off-winding path. Was it a birch or a wood-nymph? No matter.

Starting point is 05:45:07 It had given her that stab of poignant rapture, she called the flesh. Her priceless thing whose fleeting, uncalculated moments were worth cycles of mere existence. Emily wandered on, thinking all of the loveliness of the road and nothing of the road itself, following limping Elsa until at last the trees suddenly fell away before them and they found themselves in the open with a wild sort of little pasture before them and beyond in the clear after light a long sloping valley rather bare and desolate where the farmsteads had no great appearance of thrift or comfort Why, where are we? said Elsa blankly.

Starting point is 05:46:04 I don't see anything like Wilty. Emily came abruptly out of her dreams and tried to get her bearings. The only landmark visible was a tall spire on a hill ten miles away. Why, there's the spire of the Catholic Church at Indian Head, she said flatly, and that must be hard scrabble road down there we must have taken a wrong tournics somewhere elza we've come out on the east side of the woods instead of the north then we're five miles from wilting said elza despairingly i can never walk that far and we can't go back through those woods it will be pitched dark in a quarter of an hour. What on earth can we do?' At mid we're lost and make a beautiful thing of it, said Emily Cooley.

Starting point is 05:47:07 Oh, we're lost all right, to all intents and purposes, moaned Elsa, climbing feebly up on the tumble-down fence and sitting there. But I don't see how we're going to make it beautiful. I can't stay here all night. The only thing to do is to go down and see if they'll put us up at any of those houses. I don't like the idea. If that's hardscrabble road, the people are all poor and dirty. I've heard Aunt Ned tell weird tales of hardscrabble road. Why can't we stay here all night? said Emily. Elsa looked at Emily to see if she meant it, saw that she did.

Starting point is 05:48:01 Where can we sleep, hang ourselves over these fans? Over on that haystack, said Emily. It's only half-finished, hard-scrabble fashion, the tap is flat. There's a leather leaning against it. The hay is dry and clean. The night is summer warm. There are no mosquitoes this time of year. We can put our raincoats over us to keep off the dew.

Starting point is 05:48:31 Why not? Elsa looked at the haystack in the corner of the little pasture and began to laugh assentingly. What will Aunt Ruth say? Aunt Ruth need never know it. I'll be sly for once with a vengeance. Besides, I've always longed to sleep out in the open. it's been one of the secret wishes i believed were forever unattainable hedged about a siam with ants and now it was tumbled into my lap like a gift thrown down by the gods

Starting point is 05:49:10 it's really such good luck as to be uncanny suppose it rains said elza who nevertheless found the idea very alluring it won't rain. There isn't a cloud inside except those great fluffy rose and white ones piling up over Indian head. There are the kind of clouds that always make me feel that I'd love to soar up on wings as eagles and swoop right down into the middle of them. It was easy to ascend the little haystack. They sunk down on its tap with size. of content, realizing that they were tireder than they had thought. The stack was built of the wild, fragrant grasses of the little pasture, and yielded indescribably a luring aroma, such as no cultivated clover can give.

Starting point is 05:50:15 They could see nothing, but a great sky of faint rose above them, pricked with early stars and dim fringe of tree taps around the field. Bats and swallows swept darkly above them against the paling western gold. Delicate fragrances exhaled from the mooses and ferns, just over the fence under the trees. A couple of aspen poplars in the corner talked in silvery whispers of the gassip of the woods. They laughed together in sheer lawless play an ancient enchantment was suddenly upon them and the white magic of the sky and the dark magic of the woods wove the final spell of a potent incantation such loveliness of this doesn't seem real murmured emily it's so wonderful it hurts me i'm afraid to speak out loud for fear it will vanish were we vexed with that hearted old man and his beastly politics to-day elza why he doesn't exist not in this world anyway

Starting point is 05:51:32 i hear the wind woman running with soft soft footsteps over the hill i shall always think of the wind as a personality she is a shrew when she blows from the north a lonely seeker when she blows from the north a lonely seeker when she blows from the east, a laughing girl when she comes from the west, and tonight from the south a little grey fairy. How do you think of such things? asked Elsa. This was a question which, for some mysterious reason, always annoyed Emily. I don't think of them. They come, she answered rather shortly. Elsa resented the tone. For heaven's sake, Emily, don't be such a crack, she exclaimed. For a second, the wonderful world in which Emily was at the moment living, trembled and wavered like a disturbed reflection in water.

Starting point is 05:52:38 Then, don't let squirrel here, she implored. One of us might push the other of the haystack. Elsa burst out laughing. Nobody can really laugh and keep angry. So their night under the stars was not spoiled by a fight. They talked for a while in whispers of schoolgirls secrets and dreams and fears. They even talked of getting married sometime in the future. Of course they shouldn't have, but they did. Elsa, it appeared, was slightly pessimistic in regard to her matrimonial chances. The boys liked me as a pal, but I don't believe anyone will ever really fall in love with me." Nonsense, said Emily reassuringly, nine out of ten men will fall in love with you. But it will be the tenth I'll want, persisted Elsa gloomily. And then they choked of almost everything else in the world.

Starting point is 05:53:50 Finally, they made a solemn compact that whichever one of them died first, was to come back to the other if it were passable. How many such compacts have been made and has even one ever been kept? Then Elsa grew drowsy and fell asleep. But Emily did not sleep, did not want to. sleep. It was too dear a night to go to sleep, she felt. She wanted to lie awake for the pleasure of it and think over a thousand things. Emily always looked back to that night, spent under the stars, as a sort of milestone. Everything in it and of it ministered to her. It filled

Starting point is 05:54:40 her with its beauty, which she must later give to the world. she wished that she could coin some magic word that might express it the round moon rose did an old witch in a high crown head right past it on a broomstick now it was only a bat and the little tip of a hemlock tree by the fence she made a poem on it at once the line signing themselves through her consciousness without effort with one side of her nature she liked writing prose best with the other she liked writing poetry this side was uppermost to-night and her very thoughts ran into rhythm a great pulsating star hung low in the sky over indian head emily gazed on it and recalled teddy's old fancy of his previous existence in a star, the idea ceased on her imagination, and she spun a dream life, lived in some happy planet, circling round that mighty far-off sun. Then came the northern lights, drifts of pale fire over the sky, spheres of light, as of imperialian armies, pale, elusive hosts, retreating and

Starting point is 05:56:15 advancing. Emily lay and watched them in rapture. Her soul was washed pure in that great bath of splendor. She was a high priestess of loveliness, assisting at the divine rites of her worship. And she knew her goddess smiled. She was glad Elsa was sleep. Any human companionship, even the dearest and most perfect, would have been alien to her then. She was sufficient unto herself, needing no love, nor comradeship, nor any human emotion to round out her felicity. Such moments come rarely in any life, but when they do come, they are inexpressibly wonderful, as if the finite word for a second infinity, as if humanity were for a space uplifted into divinity, as if all aggliness had vanished, leaving only flawless beauty. Oh, beauty. Emily shivered with the pure ecstasy of it.

Starting point is 05:57:28 She loved it. It filled her being tonight as never before. She was afraid to move, or breathe lest she break the current of beauty that was full. flowing through her. Life seemed like a wonderful instrument on which to play supernal harmonies. Oh, God, make me worthy of it. Oh, make me worthy of it. She prayed. Could she ever be worthy of such a message? Could she dare try to carry some of the loveliness of that dialogue divine back to the everyday world of sordid marketplace and clamour street

Starting point is 05:58:12 she must give it she could not keep it to herself would the world listen understand feel only if she were faithful to the trust and gave out that which was committed to her careless of blame or praise

Starting point is 05:58:31 high priestess of beauty yes she would serve at no other shrine. She fell asleep in this rapt mood, dreamed that she was Sappho, springing from the Locadian wreck, woke to find herself at the bottom of the haystack,

Starting point is 05:58:51 with Elsa's startled face, peering down at her. Fortunately, so much of the stack had slipped down with her that she was able to say cautiously. I think, I am all in one piece still End of chapter 12

Starting point is 05:59:11 Chapter 13 of Emily Climes This is a Libre Box recording or Libre Box recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery Chapter 13 heaven when you have fallen asleep listening to the hymns of the gods it is something of an anti-climax to be wakened by an ignominious tumble from a hasteack

Starting point is 05:59:56 but at least it had aroused them in time to see the sun rise over indian head which was worth the sacrifice of several hours of inglorious ease I might never have known what an exquisite thing, a spider's web vivid with dew is, said Emily. Look at it. Swung between those two tall plummy grasses. Write a poem on it, jeered Elsa,

Starting point is 06:00:31 whose alarm made her fleetingly cross. How's your foot? Oh, it's all right, but my hair is so. sopping wet with dew. So is mine. We'll carry our huts for a while and the sun will soon dry us. It's just as well to get an early start. We can get back to civilization by the time it's safe for us to be seen. Only we'll have to breakfast on the crackers in my bag. It won't do for us to be looking for breakfast.

Starting point is 06:01:10 account to give of where we spent the night. Elsa, swore, you'll never mention this escapade to a living soul. It's been beautiful, but it will remain beautiful, just as long as only we two know of it. Remember the result of your telling about our moonlit bath? People have such beastly minds. grumbled elza sliding down the stack oh look at indian head i could be a sun-worshipper this very moment indian head was a flaming mound of splendor the far of heels turned beautifully purple against the radiant sky even the bare ugly hardscrabble road was transfigured and luminous in hasties of silver. The fields and woods were very lovely in the faint pearly luster.

Starting point is 06:02:16 The world is always young again for just a few moments at the dawn, murmured Emily. Then she pulled her Jimmy book out of her bag and wrote the sentence down. They had the usual experiences of canvassers, the world over that day. over that day. Some people refused to subscribe ungraciously. Some subscribed graciously. Some refused to subscribe so pleasantly that they left an agreeable impression. Some consented to subscribe so unpleasantly that Emily wished they had refused. But on the whole, they enjoyed the forenoon, especially. especially when an excellent early dinner in a hospitable farmhouse on the western road filled up the aching void left by a few crackers and a night on a haystack

Starting point is 06:03:24 suppose you didn't come across any stray children to-day asked their host no have any been lost little ellen bracha will brachas son down river at moward point has been missing ever since tuesday morning he walked out of the house that morning singer and hasn't been seen or heard of since emily and elza exchanged shocked glances how old was he just seven and an only child they said his poor ma is plump distracted all the malvern point men have been searching for him for two days and not a trace of him keen they discover what can have happened to him said emily pale with horror it's a mystery some think he fell off the wharf at the point it was only about a quarter of a mile from the house and he used to like sitting there and watching the boats but nobody saw anything of him round the wharf or the bridge that morning there's a lot of marshland west off the brachaf farm full of bags and pools. Some think he must have wandered there and got lost and perished.

Starting point is 06:05:04 Yeah, remember Tuesday night was terrible cold. That's where his mother thinks he is. And if you ask me, she is right. If he'd been anywhere else, he'd have been found by the searching parties. They've combed the country. The story. hunted emily all the rest of the day and she walked under its shadow anything like that always took almost a morbid hold on her she could not bear the thought of the poor mother at malvern point and the little lad where was he where had he been the previous night when she had lain in the ecstasy of wild free hours that night had not been cold but wednesday night had

Starting point is 06:06:01 and she shuddered and she recalled tuesday night when a bitter autumnal windstorm had raged till dawn with showers of hail and stinging rain had he been out in that the poor lost baby oh i can't bear it she moaned it's dreadful agreed elsa looking rather sick but we can't do anything there's no use in thinking of it oh suddenly elsa stamped her foot i believe father used to be right when he didn't believe in god such a hideous thing as this how could it happen if there is a god a decent god anyway god hadn't anything to do with this said said Emily. You know the power that me last night couldn't have brooked about this monstrous thing. Well, he didn't prevent it, retarded Elsa, who was suffering so keenly that she wanted to arraign the universe at the bar of her pain.

Starting point is 06:07:24 Little Alan Bratcher may be found yet, he must be, exclaimed and Emily. He won't be found alive, stormed Elsa. No, don't talk to me about God, and don't talk to me of this. I've got to forget it. I'll go crazy if I don't. Elsa put the matter out of her mind, with another stamp of her foot, and Emily tried to. she could not quite succeed but she forced herself to concentrate superficially on the business of the day though she knew the horror lurked in the back of her consciousness only once did she really forget it when they came round a point on the malvern river road and saw a little house built in the cap of a tiny bay with a steep grassy hill rising behind it. Scattered over the hill were solitary beautiful shaped young fir trees like little green elongated pyramids. No other house was in sight.

Starting point is 06:08:44 All about it was a lovely autumnal solitude of grey, swift running, windy, windy river and red spruce-fringed points. that house belongs to me said emily elsa stared to you yes of course i don't own it but haven't you sometimes seen houses that you knew belonged to you no matter who owned them no elsie hadn't she hadn't the last idea what emily meant i know who owns that house she said it's mr scobey of kingsport he built it for a summer cottage i heard aunt ned talking of it the last time i was in wilting it was finished a few weeks ago it's a pretty little house but too small for me i like a big house i don't want to feel cramped and crowded especially in summer it's hard for a big house to have any personality said emily thoughtfully but little houses almost always have that house is full of it there isn't line or a corner that isn't eloquent and those casement windows are lovable especially that little one high up under the eaves over the front door it's absolutely smiling at me look at it glowing like a jewel in the sunshine out of the dark shingled setting the little house is greeting us you dear friendly thing i love you i understand you

Starting point is 06:10:44 as old kelly would say may never a tear be shed under your roof the people who are going to live in you must be nice people or they would never have thought to you-you would never have thought of you. If I lived in you, beloved, I'd always stand at that western window at evening to wave to someone coming home. That is just exactly what that window was built for, a frame for love and welcome. When you get through with talking to your house, we'd better hurry on, warned Elsa. That's a storm coming. up. See those clouds and those seagulls. Gulls never come up this far, except before storm. It's going to rain any minute. We'll not sleep on a haystack tonight, friend Emily. Emily loitered past the little house and looked at it lovingly as long as she could.

Starting point is 06:11:54 It was such a dear little place with its dabbed of gulfed. and rich brown shingle tints and its general intimate air of sharing mutual jokes and secrets she turned around half a dozen times to look upon it as they climbed the steep hill and when at last it dipped below sight she sighed i hate to leave it i have the oddest feeling elza that it's calling to me that i ought to go back to it don't be silly said elza impatiently there it's sprinkling now if you haven't poked so long looking at your blessed little hand had would have been out of the main road now and near shelter wow but it's cold it's going to be a dreadful night said emily in a low voice oh elza worries that poor little lost boy to-night i wish i knew if they had found him don't said elza savagely don't say another word of about them, it's awful, it's hideous, but what can we do? Nothing, that's the dreadful thing about it.

Starting point is 06:13:26 It seems wicked to go on about our own business, asking for subscriptions, when that child is not found. By this time, they had reached the main road. The rest of the afternoon was not pleasant, stinged. showers came at intervals. Between them the world was raw and damp and cold, with a morning wind that came in ominous sighing gust under a leaden sky. At every house where they called, they were reminded of the lost baby, for there were only women to give or refuse subscriptions the man were always searching for him though it isn't any use now said one woman gloomily except that they may find his little boy he can have lived this long i just can't eat or cook for thinking of his poor mother they say she's nigh crazy i don't wonder they say old margaret mackintyre

Starting point is 06:14:42 is taking it quite calmly said an older woman who was pissing a log-coving quilt by the window i'd have thought she'd be wild too she seemed real fond of little allan oh margaret mackintyre has never got worked up about anything for the past five years ever since her own son neal was frozen to death in the clansom sandike seems like if her feelings were frozen then too she's been a little mad ever since she won't worry none over it is she'll just smile and tell you she spanked the king both woman laughed emily with the storyteller's nose sent it a story instantly but though she would fain have lingered to hunt it down elza hassled her away We must get on, Emily, or we'll never reach St. Clair before night. They soon realized that they were not going to reach it. At sunset, St. Clair was still three miles away, and there was every indication of a wild evening.

Starting point is 06:16:03 We can't get to St. Clair, that's certain, said Elsa. It's going to settle down for a steady rain. and it'll be as black as a million black cats in a quarter of an hour we'd better go to that house over there and ask if we can stay all night it looks snug and respectable though it certainly is the jumping-off place the house at which elsie pointed an old whitewashed house with a grey roof was set on the face of a hill amid bright green fields of clover aftermath a wet red road wound up the hill to it a thick grove of spruces shed it off from the gulf shore and beyond the grove a teeny dip in the land revealed a triangular glimpse of misty white-capped gray sea the near brook valley was filled with york valley the near brook valley was filled with young spruces dark green in the rain the gray clouds hung heavily over it suddenly the sun broke through the clouds in the west for one magical moment the hill of clover meadows flashed instantly into incredibly vivid green the triangle of sea shimmered into violet

Starting point is 06:17:37 the old house gleamed like white marble against the emerald of its hilly background and the inky black sky over and around it oh gasped emily i never saw anything so wonderful she groved wildly in her bag and clutched her jimmy book the post of a field gate served as a desk emily leaked to the desk emily leaked a stubborn pencil and wrote feverishly. Elsa squatted on stone in a fence corner and waited with ostentatious patience. She knew that when a certain look appeared on Emily's face, she was not to be dragged away until she was ready to go.

Starting point is 06:18:30 The sun had vanished and the rain was beginning to fall again. When Emily put her Jimmy bow, book back into her bag, with a sigh of satisfaction. I had to get it, Elsa. Couldn't you have waited till you got to dry land and wrote it down from memory? Grumbled Elsa, uncoiling herself from her stone. No, I'd have missed some of the flavor then. I've got it all now, and ingest exactly the right words.

Starting point is 06:19:07 come on i'll raise you to the house oh smell that wind there's nothing in all the world like a salt sea-wind a savage salt sea-wind after all there's something delightful in a storm there's always something deep down in me that seems to rise and leap out to meet a storm wrestled with it i feel that way sometimes but not to-night said elza i'm tired and that poor baby oh emulous triumph and exultation went from her in a cry of pain oh elza i'd forgotten that moment how could i where can he be dead said elza heartily it's better to think so than to think so than to think of him alive still, out tonight. Come, we've got to get in somewhere. The storm is on for good now, no more showers. An angular woman panoplied in a white apron so stiffly starched that it could easily have stood alone. Opened the door of the house on the hill and bade them enter. Oh yes, you can stay here. I read it.

Starting point is 06:20:34 she said not inhospitably if you'll excuse things being a bit upset they're in sad trouble here oh i'm sorry stammered emily we won't intrude we'll go somewhere else oh we don't mind you if you don't mind us there's a spare room you're welcome you can go on in a storm like this there isn't another house for some ways I advise you to stop here I'll get you a bit of supper I don't live here I'm just a neighbor come to help them out a bit

Starting point is 06:21:17 Hallinger's my name Mrs. Julia Hallinger Mrs. Bracha ain't good for anything you've heard of her little boy Meb is this where and he hasn't been found

Starting point is 06:21:33 No, never will be. I'm not mentioning it to her, with a quick glance over her shoulder along the hall. But it's my opinion. He got in the quick sands down by the bay. That's what I think. Come in and lay off your things. I suppose you don't mind eating in the kitchen. The room is cold.

Starting point is 06:22:01 We haven't the stove. up in it yet it'll have to be put up soon if there's a funeral i suppose there won't be if he's in the quick sand you can't have a funeral without a body can you all this was very gruesome emily and elza would fain have gone elsewhere but the storm had broken in full fury and darkness seemed to pour in from the sea sea over the changed world they took off their drenched huts and coats and followed their hostess to the kitchen a clean old-fashioned spat which seemed cheerful enough in lamp light and fire glow sit up to the fire i'll poke it a bit don't mind grandfather bracha grandfather here's two young ladies that want to stay all night grandfather stared stonily at them out of little hazy blue eyes and said not a word don't mind him in a pig's whisper he's over ninety and he never was much of a talker clara mrs brotcha isn't there nodding towards the door of what seemed a small bedroom of the kitchen her brothers with her dr macintyre from Charlottown we sent for him yesterday he's the only one that can do anything with her she's been walking the floor all day but we've got her persuaded to lie down a bit her husband's out looking for little allan

Starting point is 06:23:53 a child can be lost in the nineteenth century said grandfather bracha with uncanny suddenness and positiveness there there now grandfather i advise you not to get worked up and this is the twentieth century now he is still living back there his memory stepped a few years ago what might your name be burly star from blare water oh then you'll know the murray's niece oh mrs julia hallinger's oh was subtly eloquent she had been setting dishes and food down at a rapid rate on the clean oil cloth on the table now she swept them aside extracted a table-cloth from a drawer off the cupboard got silver forks and spoons out of another drawer and a handsome pair of salt and pepper shakers from the shelves don't go to any trouble for us pleaded emily oh it's not trouble if all was well here you'd find mrs brachah real glad to have you she's a very kind woman poor soul it's awful hard to see her in such trouble allan was all the child she had you see a child can be lost in the nineteenth century i tell you repeated grandfather bradha with an irritable shift of emphasis no no soothingly of course no grandfather little allan'll turn up all right yet here's a hat-cup of tea for you i advise you to drink it that'll keep him quiet for a bit

Starting point is 06:25:52 not that he's ever very fuzzy only everybody's a bit upset except all mrs mcintyre nothing ever upsets her it's just as well only it seems to me real and feeling course she isn't just right come sit in and have a bite girls listen to that rain will you the man will be soaked they can search much longer to-night we will soon be home i sort of dreaded carly'll go wild again when he comes home without little allan we had a terrible time with her last night poor thing a child can be lost in the nineteenth century said grandfather bracha and choked over his hot drink in his indignation nor nor in the twentieth neither said mrs hollinger patting him on the back i advise you to go to bed grandfather you're tired i'm not tired and i will go to bed when i choose julia oh very well grandfather i advise you not to get worked up i think i'll take a cap of tea in to clara perhaps she'll take it now she hasn't eaten or drank since tuesday night how can a woman stand dead i put it to you emily and elza ate their supper with what appetite they could summon up while grandfather bracha watched them suspiciously and sorrowful sounds reached them from the little inner room is it wet and cold to-night where is he my little son moaned a woman's voice with an undertone of agony that made emily writhe as if she felt it herself

Starting point is 06:27:52 they'll find him soon clara said mrs hallinger in a spragly tone of artificial comfort just be patient take a sleep i advise you they're bound to find him soon they'll never find him the voice was almost a scream now he's dead he's dead he died he died that bitter called tuesday night so long ago oh god have mercy he was such a little fellow and i've told him so often not to speak until he was spoken to he'll never speak to me again i wouldn't let him have a light after he went to bed and he died in the dog alone and cold i wouldn't let him have a dog he wanted one so much but he wants nothing now only a grave and a shroud i can't endure this muttered emily i can't elza i feel as if i'd go mad with horror i'd rather be out in the storm lank mrs hollinger looking at once sympathetic and important came out of the bedroom and shut the door awful isn't it she'll go on like that all night would you like to go to bed it's quite early but madman but mehurt You're tired and would rather be where you can hear her. Poor soul, she wouldn't take the tea.

Starting point is 06:29:30 She's scared the doctor put a sleeping pill in it. She doesn't want to sleep till he's found, dead or alive. If he's in the quick sense, of course, he never will be found. Julia Hollinger, you're a fool and the daughter of a fool, but surely even human see that a child can be lost in the 19th century," said Grandfather Bracha. "'Well, if it was anybody but you called me a full grandfather, I'd be mad,' said Mrs. Hallinger, a trifle tartly. She lighted a lamp, and took the girls upstairs. I'll hope you'll sleep. I advise you to get in between the blankets, though there are shits on the bed.

Starting point is 06:30:21 they was all aired to-day blankets and chits i thought it'd be better to air em in case there was a funeral i remembered the new boon murris was always particular about airing their beds so i thought i'd mention it listen to that wind we'll likely hear of awful damage from this storm i wouldn't wonder if the roof blew off this house to-night Troubles never come singly. I advise you not to get upset if you hear noise through the night. If the man bring the body home, clare a likely act like all possessed. Poor thing. Mab, you'd better turn the key in the lack. Old Mrs. McIntyre wanders round a bit sometimes.

Starting point is 06:31:14 She's quite harmless and mostly sane enough, but it gives folks a start. girls felt relieved as the door closed behind mrs hollinger she was a good soul doing her neighbourly duty as she conceived it faithfully but she was not exactly cheerful company they found themselves in a tiny meticulously neat spare room under the sloping eaves most of the space in it was occupied by a big comfortable bed that looked as a small if it were meant to be slept in, and not merely to decorate the room. A little forepaned window, with a spotless white muslin frill, shut them in from the cold, stormy night that was on the sea. Ah, shivered Elsa, and got into the bed as speedily as possible. Emily followed her more slowly, forgetting about the key. Elsa, tired out, fell asleep almost immediately, but Emily could not sleep.

Starting point is 06:32:29 She lay and suffered, straining her ears for the sounds of footsteps. The rain douched again the window, not in drabs, bad sheets. The wind snarled and shrieked. down below the hill she heard the white waves ravening along the dark shore could it be only twenty-four hours since that moonlit summery glamour of the haystack and the ferny pasture why that must have been in another world where was that poor lost child in one of the pauses of the storm she fancied she heard a little wound whimper overhead in the dark, as if some lonely little soul lately freed from the body, were trying to find its way to kin. She could discover no way of escape from her pain. Her gates of dream were shut against her. She could not detach her mind from her feelings and dramatize them.

Starting point is 06:33:38 Her nerves grew strained and tense. Painfully she sent her thoughts out into the storm, seeking, striving to pierce the mystery of the child's whereabouts. He must be found. She clenched her hands. He must. That poor mother. Oh God, let him be found safe.

Starting point is 06:34:03 Let him be found safe. Emily prayed desperately. and insistently over and over again, all the more desperately and insistently, because it seemed a prayer so impassable of fulfillment. But she reiterated it to bar out of her mind terrible pictures of swamp and quicksand and river, until at last she was so wary that mental torture

Starting point is 06:34:34 could no longer keep her awake, and she fell into a troubled slumber, while the storm roared on, and the baffled searchers finally gave up their vain quest. End of Chapter 13. Chapter 14 of Emily Climes. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain.

Starting point is 06:35:05 For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Chapter 14, The Woman Who Spanked the King The Wet Dawn Came Up from the Gulf in the wake of the spent storm and crept grayly into the little spare room of the whitewashed house on the hill. Emily woke with a start from a troubled dream of seeking and finding the lost boy, but where she had found him she could not now remember. Isle was still asleep at the back of the bed. Her pale gold, curls lying in a silken heap on the pillow. Emily, her thoughts still tangled in the cobweb meshes of her dream, looked around the room and thought she must be dreaming still. By the tiny

Starting point is 06:35:53 table covered with its white lace trimmed cloth, a woman was sitting, a tall, stout old woman, wearing over her thick gray hair a spotless white widow's cap, such as the old highland Scotch woman still wore in the early years of the century. She had on a dress of plum-colored jugget with a large snowy apron, and she wore it with the air of a queen. A neat blue shawl was folded over her breast. Her face was curiously white and deeply wrinkled, but Emily, with her gift for seeing essentials, saw instantly the vivacity, which still characterized every feature. She saw, too, that the beautiful, clear blue eyes looked as if their owner had been dreadfully hurt sometime. This must be the old Mrs. McIntyre, of whom Mrs. Hollinger had spoken.

Starting point is 06:36:46 And if so, then old Mrs. McIntyre was a very dignified personage indeed. Mrs. McIntyre sat with her hands folded on her lap, looking steadily at Emily with a gaze in which there was something hard to define. something just a little strange. Emily recalled the fact that Mrs. McIntyre was supposed to be not quite right. She wondered a little uneasily what she should do. Ought she to speak, Mrs. McIntyre saved her the trouble of deciding. You will be having Highland been for your forefathers? She said in an unexpectedly rich, powerful voice,

Starting point is 06:37:28 full of the delightful Highland accent. "'Yes,' said Emily. "'And will you be Presbyterian?' "'Yes.' "'They will be the only decent things to be,' remarked Mrs. McIntyre in a tone of satisfaction. "'And will you be pleased telling me what your name is?' "'Emily Star, that would be a very pretty name.

Starting point is 06:37:53 "'I will be telling you mine. "'It is Mistress Margaret McIntyre. "'I'm no common person. I'm the woman who spanked the king. Again, Emily, now thoroughly awake, thrilled with the storyteller's instinct. But Isle, awakening at the moment, gave a low exclamation of surprise. Mrs. McIntyre lifted her head with quite a regal gesture. You will not be afraid of me, my dear.

Starting point is 06:38:21 I will not be hurting you, although I will be the woman who spanked the king. That is what people say of me, oh yes, As I walked into the church, she is the woman who spanked the king. I suppose, said Emily hesitantly, that we'd better be getting up. You will not be rising until I have told you my tale, said Mrs. McIntyre firmly. I will be knowing as soon as I saw you that you will be the one to hear it. You will not be having very much color, and I will not be saying that you are very pretty. Oh no, but you will be having the little hands and the little

Starting point is 06:38:59 ears. They will be the ears of fairies. I am thinking. The girl with you there, she is very nice girl, and will make a very fine wife for a handsome man. She is clever, oh yes, but you half the way, and it is to you I will be telling my story. Let her tell it, whispered Isle. I'm dying of curiosity to hear about the king being spanked. Emily, who realized that there was no, Letting, in the case, only a matter of lying still and listening to whatever it seemed good to Mistress McIntyre to say, nodded. You will not be having a talks? I will be meaning the Gaelic. Spellbound, Emily shook her blackhead.

Starting point is 06:39:48 That is a pity, for my story will not be sounding so well in the English. Oh no. You will be saying to yourself, this old woman is having a dream, but you will be wrong. for it is the true story I will be telling you, oh yes, I spanked the king. Of course he would not be the king then. He would only be a little prince and no more than nine years old, just the same as my son Alec.

Starting point is 06:40:14 But it is at the beginning I must be, or you will not be understanding the matter at all. It was all a long time ago, before we ever left the whole country. My husband would be Alistair and he would be a shepherd near Balmour Castle

Starting point is 06:40:32 Alistair was a very handsome man and we were very happy It was not that we did not quarrel Once in a while Oh no That would be very monotonous But when we made up

Starting point is 06:40:45 It is more loving than we ever would be And I would be very good-looking Myself I will be getting fatter and fatter All the time now But I was very slim and beautiful then. Oh yes, it is the truth I will be telling you, though. I will be seeing that you are laughing in your sleeves at me. When you will be 80, you will be knowing more about it.

Starting point is 06:41:09 You will be remembering maybe that Queen Victoria and Prince Albert would be coming up to Balmoral every summer and bringing their children with them, and they would not be bringing any more servants than they could help, for they would not be wanting fuss and pother, but just a quiet, nice time like common folk on Sundays they would be walking down sometimes the church in the glen to be hearing mr. Donald McPherson preach mr. Donald McPherson was a very gifted in prayer and he would not be liking it when people would come in when he was praying he would be apt to be stopping and saying oh Lord we will be waiting until sandy big Jim has taken his seat oh yes I would be hearing the queen laugh the next day at Sandy Big Jim, you will be no one not at the minister. When they will be needing some more help at the castle, they just sent for me and Janet Jardine. Janet's husband was a gilly on the estate. She would always be saying to me, good morning, Mistress McIntyre, when we would be meeting,

Starting point is 06:42:16 and I would be saying, good morning, Janet, just to be showing the superiority of the McIntyres over the Jordains. but she was a very good creature in her place, and we would be getting on very well together when she would not be forgetting it. I was very good friends with the Queen. Oh, yes. She was not a proud woman, whatever. She would be sitting in my house at times

Starting point is 06:42:42 and drinking a cup of tea, and she would be talking to me of her children. She was not very handsome. Oh, no, but she would be having a very pretty hand. Prince Albert was very fine looking so people would be saying, but to my mind Alistair was far the handsomer man. They would be very fine people, whatever, and the little princes and princesses would be playing about with my children, Heffer Day. The queen would be no one they were in good company, as she would be easier in her mind about them than I was. For Prince Bertie was the daring lad, if ever there was one, oh yes, and the tricky one, and I would be

Starting point is 06:43:22 worrying all the time for the fear that he and Alec would be getting into a scrap. They would be playing every day together quarrelling too, and it would not always be Alex's fault either, but it was Alec that would be getting the scolding, poor lad. Somebody would have to be scolded, and you would be knowing that I could not be scolding the prince, my dear. There was one great worry I will be having, the burn behind the house in the trees. It was very deep and swift in places And if a child should be fallen in

Starting point is 06:43:56 He would be drowned I would be telling Prince Bertie and Alec Time after time that they must never be going Near the banks of the burn They would be doing it once or twice for all that And I would be punishing Alec for it Though he would be telling me that he did not want to go And Prince Bertie would be saying

Starting point is 06:44:15 Oh come on there won't be any danger Do not be a coward And Alec he would be a coward and Alec he would be going because he would be thinking he had to do what Prince Bertie wanted and not like him very well either to be called a coward and him a McIntyre I would be worrying so much over it that I would not be sleeping at night and then my dear one day Prince Bertie would be fallen right into the deep pool and Alec would be trying to pull him out and fallen in after him

Starting point is 06:44:44 and they would have been drowned together if I had not been here in the scrolls of them when I would be coming home from the castle after taking some buttermilk up for the queen. Oh yes, it is quick I will be taking in what had happened and running to the burn, and it will not be long before I was fishing them out, very frightened and dripping. I will be knowing something had to be done, and I was very tired of blaming poor Alec. And besides, it will be the truth, my dear, that I was very, very mad, and I was not thinking of princes and kings. but just two very bad little boys oh it is the quick temper i will be always having ho yes i will be picking up prince bertie and turning him over my knee and i will be given him a sound spanking on the place the good lord will be making for spanks in princes as well as in common children

Starting point is 06:45:39 I will be spanking him first because he was a prince. Then I spanked Alex and they made music together. For it was very angry I was, and I will be doing what my hands will be finding to do with all my might, as the good book says. Then, when Prince Bertie had gone home, very mad, I will be cooling off and feeling a bit frightened, for I will not be knowing just how the queen will be taking it,

Starting point is 06:46:06 and I will not be liking the thought of Janet John. Jardine triumphing over me. But it is a sensible woman, Queen Victoria was, and she will be telling me the next day I did right. And Prince Albert will be smiling and joking to me about the laying on of hands, and Prince Bertie would not be disobeying me again about going to the burn, oh no, and he could not be sitting down fairy-easy for some time. As for Hallister, I had been thinking he would be fairy cross with me, but it will always be hard telling what a man will think of anything, oh yes, for he would be laughing over it too, and telling me that a day would come when I could be boasting that I had spank the king.

Starting point is 06:46:52 It was all a long time ago now, but never will I be forgetting it. She would be dying two years ago, and Prince Bertie would be the king at last. When Alistair and I came to Canada, the queen will be given me a silk petticoat. It was a very fine petticoat of the Victorian tartan. I have never worn it, but I will be wearing it once, in my coffin. Oh, yes, I will be keeping it in the chest in my room, and they will be knowing what it is for. I will be wishing Janet Jardine could have known that I was to be buried in the petticoat of the Victorian Tartan, but she has been dead for a long while.

Starting point is 06:47:33 She was a very good sort of creature, although she was not a man. McIntyre folded her hands and held her piece. Having told her story, she was content. Emily had listened avidly. Now she said, Mrs. McIntyre, will you let me write down that story and publish it? Mistress McIntyre leaned forward. Her white, shriveled face warmed a little. Her deep-set eyes shone. Will you be meaning that it will be printed in a paper? "'Yes.' "'Mistress McIntyre rearranged her shawl over her breast with her hands that trembled a little. "'It is strange how our wishes will be coming true at times.

Starting point is 06:48:19 "'It is a pity that the foolish people who will be saying there is no God could not be hearing of this. "'You will be writing it out and you will be putting it into proud words.' "'No, no,' said Emily quickly. "'I will not do that. "'I may have to make a few changes and write a framework. but most of it I shall write exactly as you told it. I could not better it by a syllable. Mistress McIntyre looked doubtful for a moment, then gratified.

Starting point is 06:48:47 It is only a poor, ignorant body I am, and I will not be choosing my words very well, but maybe you will be known best. You have listened to me very nicely, and it is sorry that I have kept you so long with my old tales. I will be going now and letting you get up. "'Have they found the lost child?' asked Ile eagerly. Mistress McIntyre shook her head composedly.

Starting point is 06:49:13 "'Oh, no, it is not finding him in a hurry they will be. "'I will be here in Clara Scurlin in the night. "'She is the daughter of my son Angus. "'He will be marrying a Wilson, "'and the Wilson's will always be making a stramish over everything. "'The poor thing will be worrying that she was not good enough to the little lad. but it would always be spoiling him she was, and him that full of mischief. I will not be of much use to her.

Starting point is 06:49:43 I have not the second sight. You will be having a bit of that yourself, I am thinking, oh yes. No, no, said Emily hurriedly. She could not help recalling a certain incident of her childhood at Newmoon, of which she somehow never liked to think. Old Mistress McIntyre nodded sagely and smooth, her white apron. It will not be right for you to be denying it, my dear, for it is a great gift, and my cousin Helen four times removed will be having it, oh yes. But they will not be finding

Starting point is 06:50:18 little Alan. Oh no, Clara will be loving him too much. It is not a very good thing to be loving anyone too much. God will be a jealous God, oh yes, and it is Margaret McIntyre who knows it. I will be having six sons once All very fine men And the youngest would be nil He was six foot two in his stockings And there would be none of the others like him at all There would be such fun in him

Starting point is 06:50:47 He would always be laughing Oh yes And the willing tongue of him would be coaxing birds off the bushes He will be going to the Klondike And he will be getting frozen to death out there one night Oh yes He will be dying while I was praying for him. I have not been praying since.

Starting point is 06:51:08 Clara will be feeling like that now. She will be saying God does not hear. It is a very strange thing to be a woman, my dears, and to be loving so much for nothing. Little Helen was a very pretty baby. He will be having a fat little brown face and very big blue eyes, and it is a pity he will not be turning up, though they will not be finding my kneel in time, oh no, I will be leaving Clara alone and not be vexing her with comforting.

Starting point is 06:51:40 I was always the great hand to leave people alone. Without it would be when I spank the king. It is Julia Hollinger who will be darkening counsel by words without knowledge. It is the foolish woman she is. She would be leaving her husband because he will not be given up a dog he liked. I am thinking he was wise and sticking to the dog, but I will always be getting on well with Julia, because I have learned to suffer fools gladly. She will enjoy giving advice so much it will not be hurting me whatever, because I will not ever be taking it.

Starting point is 06:52:19 I will be saying goodbye to you now, my dears, and it is very glad I am half to see you, and I will be wishing that trouble may never sit on your hearth-stones, and I will not be forget neither that you listen to me very polite, oh yes. I will not be of much importance to anybody now, but once I spank the king. End of Chapter 14. Chapter 15 of Emily Climes. This is a livery box recording.

Starting point is 06:52:53 A livery box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit. liverybox.org. Emily Climes by Lucy Mott Montgomery Chapter 15 The Thing That Couldn't When the door had closed behind

Starting point is 06:53:14 mistress Montentire, the girls get up and dressed rather laggantly. Emily thought of the day before her with some distaste. The fine flavor of adventure and romance with which day had started out had viny. and canvassing the country road for subscriptions had suddenly become irksome.

Starting point is 06:53:38 Physically, they were both tireder than they thought. It seems like an age since we left Schurzbury, grumbled Ilza as she pulled on her stockings. Emily had an even stronger feeling of a long passage of time. Her wakeful enraptured night under the moon had seemed in its sense. like a year of some strange soul growth. And this past night had been wakeful also, in a very different way, and she had roused from her brief sleep

Starting point is 06:54:13 at its close with an odd, rather unpleasant sensation of some confused and troubled journey, a sensation which old mistress MacIntyre's story had vanished for a time, but which now returned as she, brushed her hair. I feel as if I had been wandering somewhere for hours. She said, and I dreamed I found little Alan, but I don't know where. It was horrible to wake up feeling that I had known just immediately before I woke and had forgotten. I slept like a log,

Starting point is 06:54:53 said Ilza, Ionik. I didn't even dream, Emily, I want to get away from this house and this place, as soon as I can. I feel as if I were in a nightmare, as if some were horrible, were pressing me down, and I couldn't escape from it. It would be different if I could do anything, help in any way.

Starting point is 06:55:17 But since I can't, I just want to escape from it. I forgot it for a few minutes while the old lady was telling her story. Heartless old thing. She wasn't worrying one bit about poor little lost Alan. I fake she stepped worrying long ago, said Emily dreamily.

Starting point is 06:55:39 That's what people mean when they say she isn't right. People who don't worry a little never are right, like cousin Jimmy. But that was a great story. I'm going to write it for my first essay, and later I'll see about having it printed. I'm sure it would make it. a splendid sketch for some magazine. If I can only catch the saber and vivacity

Starting point is 06:56:06 she put into it. I think I'll jot down some of her expressions right away in my Jimmy book, before I forget them. Oh, grot your Jimmy book, said Ilza. Let's get down and eat

Starting point is 06:56:22 breakfast if we have to and get away. But Emily, revealing again in her storyteller's paradise, had temporarily forgotten everything else. Where is my Jimmy book? She said impatiently. It isn't in my bag.

Starting point is 06:56:40 I know it was here last night. Surely, I didn't leave it on that gate post. Isn't that it over on the table? Asked Ilza. Emily gazed blankly at it. It can't be. It is, how did it get there? I know I didn't take it out of the bag last night.

Starting point is 06:57:00 you must have said ilza indifferently emily walked over to the table with a puzzled expression the jimmy book was lying open on it with her pencil beside it something on the page caught her eyes suddenly she bent over it "'Why don't you hurry and finish your hair?' demanded Ilsa a few minutes later. "'I'm ready now, for pity's sake. "'Tear yourself from that blessed Jimmy Book for long enough to get dressed.' Emily turned around, holding the Jimmy Book in her hands. She was very pale and her eyes were dark with fear and mystery. "'Illza, look at this,' she said in a trembling voice. Ilza went over and looked at the page of the Jimmy Book, which Emily held out to her.

Starting point is 06:57:56 On it was a pencil sketch, exceedingly well done of the little house on the river shore, to which Emily had been so attracted on the preceding day. A black cross was marked on a small window over the front door and opposite it. On the margin of the Jimmy Book beside other cross was marked. written. Alan Bracha is here. What does it mean? gasped Ilza. Who did it? I don't know, stammered Emily. The writing is mine. Ilza looked at Emily and drew back a little. You must have drawn it in your slip, she said dazedly. I can't draw, said Emily. Who else could have done it? Mr. McIntyre could

Starting point is 06:58:49 you know she couldn't emily i never heard of such a strange thing do you think do you think he can't be there how could he the house must be lacked up there's no one working at it now besides they must have searched all around there he could be looking out of the window it wasn't shattered you remember calling they would have seen hurt him i suppose I must have drawn that picture in my sleep, though I can't understand how I did it, because my mind was so filled with the thought of Little Alan. It's so strange, it frightens me. You'll have to sour it to the brach-house, said Ilza. I suppose so, and yet I hate to. It may fill them with a cruel false hope again, and there can't be anything in it. but i daren't risk not showing it you show it i can't somehow the thing has upset me i feel frightened childish i could sit down and cry if he should have been there since tuesday he would be dead of starvation well they'd know i'll show it of course if it should turn out emily you are an uncanny creature don't talk of it i can't bear it said emily shuddering there was no one in the kitchen when they entered it but presently a young man came in evidently the doctor magentire of whom mrs hollinger had spoken he had a pleasant clever face with keen eyes behind his glasses but he looked tired and sat good-moron he said i hope you had a good rest and were not disturbed in any way we are all sadly upset here of course they hadn't found the little boy asked ilza dr macintyre shook his head no they have given up the search he cannot be living yet after tuesday night and last night the swamp will not give up its dead

Starting point is 07:01:11 i feel sure that is where he is my poor sister is broken-hearted i am sorry your visit should have happened at such a sorrowful time but i hope mrs hollinger has made you comfortable grandmother mcintyre should be quite offended if you lacked for anything she was very famous for her hospitality in her day i suppose you haven't seen her she does not often show herself to strangers oh we have seen her said emily absently she came into our rooms this morning and told us how she spanked the king dr macintyre laughed a little then you have been honoured it is not to every one grandmother tells that tale she is something of an ancient mourner and knows her predestined listeners she is a little bit strange a few years ago her face was a little bit strange a few years ago her face son, my uncle Neil, met his death in the Klondike under set circumstances. He was one of the lost patrol. Grandmother never recovered from the shack. She has never felt anything since.

Starting point is 07:02:28 Phelan seems to have been killed in her. She neither loves nor hates nor fears nor hopes. She lives entirely in the past and experiences only one emotion. a great pride in the fact that she once panked the king, but I am keeping you from your breakfast. Here comes Mrs. Halliger to scold me. Wait a moment, please, Dr. McIntyre, said Ilza hurriedly. If you, we, there is something I want to show you. Dr. McIntyre bent a puzzled face over the Jimmy book.

Starting point is 07:03:08 What is this? I don't understand. We don't understand it either. Emily drew it on her sleep. In her sleep, Dr. McIntyre was too bewildered to be anything but an echo. She must have there was nobody else, unless your grandmother can't draw. Not she, and she never saw this house. It's the Scobie cottage below Malvern Bridge, isn't it? Yes, we saw it yesterday.

Starting point is 07:03:41 But Alan can be there. It's been locked for a month. The carpenters went away in August. Oh, I know, stammered Emily. I was thinking so much of Alan before I went to sleep. I suppose it's only a dream. I don't understand it at all, but we had to show it to you. Of course, well, I won't say anything to Will or Clara about it.

Starting point is 07:04:07 I'll get Rob Mason from over the hill. and we'll run down and have a look around the cottage. It would be odd if, but it couldn't possibly be. I don't see how we can get into the cottage. It's locked and the windows are shattered. This one over the front door isn't. No, but that's a closet window at the end of the upstairs hall. It was over the house one day in August, when the painters were at work in it,

Starting point is 07:04:41 the closet shuts with spring luck so i suppose that is why they didn't put a shutter on that window it's high up close to the ceiling i remember well i'll slip over to reps and see about this it won't do to leave any stone and turned emily and ilza ate what breakfast they could thankful that mrs halinger let them alone save for a few passing-were but a few passing-one remarks as she came and went at work. Terrible night last night, but the rain is over. I never closed the night. Poor Clara didn't either, but she is quieter now, sort her despairing. I'm scared for her mind. Her grandmother never was right after she heard of her son's death.

Starting point is 07:05:32 When Clara heard they weren't going to search no more, she screamed once and laid down on the bed, with her face to the wall. Ain't steered sins. Well, the world has to go on for other folks. Help yourselves to the toast. I'd advise you not to be in too much of a hurry starting out till the wind dries the mat a bit. I'm not going to go until we find out if,

Starting point is 07:06:04 whispered Ilza inconclusively. Emmeline nodded. She could not eat. and if Aunt Elizabeth or Aunt Ruth had seen her, they would have sent her to bed at once, with orders to stay there, and they would have been quite right. She had almost reached her breaking point. The hour that passed after Dr. McIntyre's departure seemed interminable. Suddenly they heard Mrs. Hallinger, who was washing milk pails at the bench outside the kitchen door,

Starting point is 07:06:39 give a sharp exclamation. A minute later she rushed into the kitchen, followed by Dr. McIntyre, breathless from his mud ran from Melbourne Bridge. Clara must be told first, he said, it is her right. He disappeared into the inner room. Mrs. Hallinger dropped into a tear, laughing and crying. They found him, they found little Ellen, on the floor of her. of the whole closet in the Scobie cottage. Is he living? Gasped Emily.

Starting point is 07:07:17 Yes, but no more. He couldn't even speak. But he'll come round with care. The doctor says, They carried him to the nearest house. That's all the doctor had time to tell me. A wild cry of joy came from the bedroom, and Clara Bratshaw,

Starting point is 07:07:36 with disheveled hair and pallid lips, but with the light of raptor shining in her eyes, rushed through the kitchen. Out and over the hill, Mrs. Hallinger cocked up a coat and ran after her. Dr. McIntyre sank into a tear. I couldn't stop her, and I'm not fit for another run yet. But Joy doesn't kill. It would have been cruel to stop her, even if I could. "'He's little Alan all right,' asked Ilsa.

Starting point is 07:08:10 "'He will be. The poor kid was at the point of exhaustion, naturally. "'He wouldn't have lasted for another day. "'We carried him right up to Dr. Matheson at the bridge "'and left him in his charge. "'He won't be fit to be brought home before tomorrow. "'Have you any idea how he came to be there? "'Well, he couldn't tell us anything, of course, but I think I know how it happened. We found a cellar window about half

Starting point is 07:08:42 and it's open. I fancy that Alan was poking about the house, boy fission, and found that this window hadn't been fastened. He must have got entrance by it, pushing it almost shut behind him, and then explored the house. He had pulled the closet door tight in some way, and the store, and the spring luck made him a prisoner. The window was too high for him to reach, or he might have attracted attention from it. The white plaster of the closet wall is all marked and scarred with his vain attempts to get up to the window. Of course, he must have shouted, but nobody has ever been near enough the house to hear him. You know, it stands in that bare little cove with nothing near it, where a child could be hidden so i suppose the searchers did not pay much attention to it they didn't search the river banks until yesterday anyhow because it was never thought he would have gone away down there alone

Starting point is 07:09:52 and by yesterday he was past calling for help i'm so happy since he is found said ilza winking back tears of relief grandfather brashoreau suddenly poked his head out of the sitting-room doorway. I told you a child couldn't be lost in the 19th century, he chuckled. He was lost, though, said Dr. McIntyre. And he wouldn't have been found in time if it were not for this young lady. It's a very extraordinary thing. Emily is psychic, said Ilza, quoting Mr. Carpenter. Psychic?

Starting point is 07:10:34 hum well it's curious well i don't pretend to understand it grandmother would say it was a second sight of course naturally she's a firm believer in that like all the highland folk oh i'm sure i haven't second side protested emily i must have dreamed it and get up in my sleep but then i can't draw something used you as an instrument then said dr macintyre after all grandmother's explanation of second sight is just as reasonable as anything else when one is compelled to believe an unbelievable thing i'd rather not talk of it said emily with a shiver i'm so glad allan has been found but please don't tell people about my part in it let them think it just occur to you to search inside the Scooby House. Aye, I couldn't bear to have this talked off all over the country. When they left the little White House on the windy hill, the sand was breaking through the clouds

Starting point is 07:11:46 and the harbor waters were dancing madly in it. The landscape was full of the wild beauty that comes in the wake of a spent storm, and the western road stretched before them in a loop and hill and deep of wet red allurement. But Emily turned away from it. I'm going to leave it for my next trip. She said,

Starting point is 07:12:12 I can't go canvassing today somehow. Friend of my heart, let's go to Marlvern Bridge and take the morning train to Shur's Barry. It was awfully funny about your dream, said Ilza. It makes me a little of fun. afraid of you emily somehow oh don't be afraid of me implored emily it was only a coincidence i was thinking of him so much and the house took possession of me yesterday

Starting point is 07:12:44 remember how you found about your mother said ilse in a low tone you have some power the rest of us happened perhaps i'll grow out of it said emily desperately I hope so. I don't want you have any such power. I don't know how I feel about it, Ilsa. It seems to me a terrible thing, as if I were marked out in some uncanny way. I don't feel human. When Dr. McIntyre spoke about something using me as an instrument, I went cold all over. It seemed to me while I was asleep, some other intelligent. must have taken possession of my body and drawn that picture. It was your writing, said Ilsa. How, I'm not going to talk of it, or think of it, I'm going to forget it. Don't ever speak of it to me again, Ilsa. End of chapter 15. Chapter 16 of Emily Climes.

Starting point is 07:14:00 This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public do. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by April Mendez Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery Chapter 16 Driftwood Shrewsbury, October 3rd, 19 I have finished canvassing my allotted portion of our Fair Province.

Starting point is 07:14:31 I have the banner list of all the canvassers, and I have made almost enough out of my commissions to pay for my books for my whole junior year. When I told Aunt Ruth this, she did not sniff. I consider that a fact worth recording. Today, my story, The Sands of Time, came back from Merton's magazine. But the rejection slip was typewritten, not printed.

Starting point is 07:14:56 Typewriting doesn't seem quite as insulting as print, some way. We have read your story with interest and regret to say that we cannot accept it for publication at the present time. If they meant that with interest, it is a little encouragement. But were they only trying to soften the blow? Ilsa and I were notified recently

Starting point is 07:15:19 that there were nine vacancies in the skull and owl and that we had been put on the list of those who might apply for membership. So we did. It is considered a great thing in school to be a skull and owl. The junior year is in full swing now, and I find the work for,

Starting point is 07:15:36 very interesting. Mr. Hardy has several of our classes, and I like him as a teacher better than anyone since Mr. Carpenter. He was very much interested in my essay, the woman who spanked the king. He gave it first place and commented on it specially in his class criticisms. Evelyn Blake is sure, naturally, that I copied it out of something and feels certain she has read it somewhere before. Evelyn is wearing her hair in the new pompadour style this year, and I think it is very unbecoming to her. But then, of course, the only part of Evelyn's anatomy I like is her back. I understand that the Martin clan are furious with me. Sally Martin was married last week in the Anglican church here, and the Times editor asked me to report it. Of course I went, though I hate reporting

Starting point is 07:16:31 weddings. There are so many things I'd like to say sometimes that can't be said. But Sally's wedding was pretty, and so was she, and I sent in quite a nice report of it, I thought, specially mentioning the bride's beautiful bouquet of roses and orchids, the first bridal bouquet of orchids ever seen in Shrewsbury. I wrote as plain as print, and there was no excuse whatever for that wretched typesetter on the Times, turning orchids into sardines. Of course, anybody with any sense would have known that it was only a printer's error. But the Martin clan have taken into their heads the absurd notion that I wrote sardines on purpose for a silly joke. Because, it seems, it has been reported to them that I said once I was tired of the conventional reports of weddings

Starting point is 07:17:22 and would like to write just one along different lines. I did say it. But my craving for originality would hardly lead me to report the bride as carrying a bouquet of sardines. Nevertheless, the Martins do think it, and Stella Martin didn't invite me to her thimble party, and Aunt Ruth says she doesn't wonder at it, and Aunt Elizabeth says I shouldn't have been so careless. I, heaven, grant me patience. October 5th, 19. Mrs. Will Bradshaw came to see me this evening.

Starting point is 07:17:58 evening. Luckily, Aunt Ruth was out. I say luckily, for I don't want Aunt Ruth to find out about my dream and its part in finding little Alan Bradshaw. This may be sly, as Aunt Ruth would say, but the truth is that, sly or not sly, I could not bear to have Aunt Ruth sniffing and wondering and pawing over the incident. Mrs. Bradshaw came to thank me. It embarrassed me, because after all, what had I to do with it? I don't want to think of or talk of it at all. Mrs. Bradshaw says Little Alan is all right again now, though it was a week after they found him before he could sit up.

Starting point is 07:18:40 She was very pale and earnest. He would have died there if you hadn't come, Miss Starr, and I would have died. I couldn't have gone on living, not knowing. Oh, I shall never forget the horror of those days. I had to come and tried to utter a little of my gratitude. You were gone when I came back that morning. I felt that I had been very inhospitable.

Starting point is 07:19:04 She broke down and cried, and so did I, and we had a good howl together. I am very glad and thankful that Alan was found, but I shall never like to think of the way it happened. New Moon, October 7th, 19. I had a lovely walk and prowl this evening in the pond graveyard. Not exactly a cheerful place for an evening's ramble, one might suppose, but I always like to wander over that little westward slope of graves in the gentle melancholy of a fine autumn evening. I like to read the names on the stones and note the ages and think of all the loves and hates and hopes and fears that lie buried there. It was beautiful and not sad,

Starting point is 07:19:50 And all around were the red plowed fields and the frosted verney wood sides and all the old familiar things I have loved, and love more and more it seems to me, the older I grow. Every weekend I come home to New Moon, these things seem dearer to me, more a part of me. I love things just as much as people. I think Aunt Elizabeth is like this, too. That's why she will not have anything changed at New Moon. I am beginning to understand her better. I believe she likes me now, too. I was only a duty at first, but now I'm something more.

Starting point is 07:20:30 I stayed in the graveyard until a dull gold twilight came down and made a glimmering spectral place of it. Then Teddy came for me, and we walked together up the field and through the Tomorrow Road. It is really a today road now, for the trees along it are above our heads. But we still call it the to-morrow. tomorrow road, partly out of habit, and partly because we talk so much on it of our tomorrows and what we

Starting point is 07:20:57 hope to do in them. Somehow, Teddy is the only person I like to talk to about my tomorrows and my ambitions. There is no one else. Perry scoffs at my literary aspirations. He says, when I say anything about writing books, what's the good of that sort of thing? And of course, if a person can't see the good for himself, you can't explain it to him. I can't even talk to Dean about them, not since he's said so bitterly one evening. I hate to hear of your tomorrows. They cannot be my tomorrows. I think in a way, Dean doesn't like to think of my growing up. I think he has a little of the priest's jealousy of sharing anything, especially friendship, with anyone else or with the world. I feel thrown back on myself. Somehow, it has seemed to me lately that Dean isn't interested in

Starting point is 07:21:47 any longer in my writing ambitions. He even, it seems to me, ridicules them slightly. For instance, Mr. Carpenter was delighted with my woman who spanked the king and told me it was excellent, but when Dean read it, he smiled and said, It will do very well for a school essay, but... And then he smiled again. It was not the smile I liked, either. It had too much priest in it, as Aunt Elizabeth would say. I felt and feel horribly cast down about it. It seemed to say,

Starting point is 07:22:21 You can scribble amusingly, my dear, and have a pretty knack of phrase-turning, but I should be doing you in unkindness if I let you think that such a knack meant a very great deal. If this is true, and it very likely is for Dean is so clever

Starting point is 07:22:37 and knows so much, well then I can never accomplish anything worthwhile. I won't try to accomplish, anything. I won't be just a pretty scribbler. But it's different with Teddy. Teddy was wildly elated tonight, and so was I when I heard his news. He showed two of his pictures at the Charlottetown exhibition in September, and Mr. Luz of Montreal has offered him $50 a piece for them. That will pay his board in Shrewsbury for the winter and make it easier for Mrs. Kent. Although she wasn't

Starting point is 07:23:11 glad when he told her. She said, Oh yes, you think you are independent of me now, and cried. Teddy was hurt because he had never thought of such a thing. Poor Mrs. Kent, she must be very lonely. There is some strange barrier between her and her kind. I haven't been to the Tansy patch for a long, long time. Once in the summer I went with Aunt Laura, who had heard Mrs. Kent was ill. Mrs. Kent was able to be up and she talked to Aunt Laura, but she never spoke to me, only looked at me now and then with a queer smoldering fire in her eyes. But when we rose to come away, she spoke once and said, You are very tall. You will soon be a woman, and stealing some other woman's son from her.

Starting point is 07:24:00 Aunt Laura said as we walked home that Mrs. Kent had always been strange, but was growing stranger. Some people think her mind is affected, she said. I don't think the trouble's in her mind. She has a sick soul, I said. Emily, dear, that is a dreadful thing to say, said Aunt Laura. I don't see why. If bodies and minds can be sick, can't souls be, too? There are times when I feel as certain as if I had been told it

Starting point is 07:24:28 that Mrs. Kent got some kind of terrible soul wound sometime, and it has never healed. I wish she didn't hate me. It hurts me to have Teddy's mother hate me. I don't know why this is. Dean is just as dear a friend as Teddy, yet I wouldn't care if all the rest of the priest clan hated me. October 19th, 19. Ilsa and the other seven applicants were elected skulls and owls.

Starting point is 07:24:58 I was black-beamed. We were notified to that effect Monday. Of course. I know it was Evelyn Blake who did it. There is nobody else who would do it. Ilsa was furious. She tore into pieces the notification of her election and sent the scraps back to the secretary

Starting point is 07:25:15 with the scathing repudiation of the skull and owl and all its works. Evelyn met me in the cloakroom today and assured me that she had voted for both Ilsa and me. Has anyone been saying you did not? I asked, in my best Aunt Elizabethan manner. Yes, Ilsa has, said Evelyn peevishly. She was very insolent to me about it. Do you want to know who I think put the black bean in?

Starting point is 07:25:41 I looked Evelyn straight in the eyes. No, it's not necessary. I know who put it in. And I turned and left her. Most of the skulls and owls are very angry about it, especially the skulls. One or two owls, I have heard, hoot that it is a good pill for the Murray Pride. And of course, several seniors and juniors who were not among the favored are either gloatingly rejoiced or odiously sympathetic. Aunt Ruth heard of it today and wanted to know why I was black-beamed. New Moon, November 5th, 19. Aunt Laura and I spent this afternoon, the one teaching, the other learning, a certain new moon tradition. To wit, how to put pickles into glass jars in patterns.

Starting point is 07:26:30 We stowed away the whole big crock full of new pickles, and when Aunt Elizabeth came to look them over, she admitted she could not tell those which Aunt Laura had done from mine. This evening was very delightful. I had a good time with myself out in the garden. It was lovely there tonight, with the eerie loveliness of a fine November evening. At sunset, there had been a wild little shower of snow, but it had cleared off, leaving the world just lightly covered, and the air clear and tingling. Almost all the flowers, including my wonderful aster's, which were a vision all through the fall were frozen black two weeks ago, but the beds still had white drifts of elisim all around them. A big, smoky red hunter's moon was just rising above the treetops.

Starting point is 07:27:17 There was a yellow-red glow in the west behind the white hills on which a few dark trees grew. The snow had banished all the strange deep sadness of a dead landscape on a late fall evening, and the slopes and meadows of old new moon farm were transformed into a wonderland in faint early moonlight. The old house had a coating of sparkling snow on its roof. Its lighted windows glowed like jewels. It looked exactly like a Christmas card. There was just a suggestion of gray-blue chimney smoke over the kitchen.

Starting point is 07:27:52 A nice reek of burning autumn leaves came from cousin Jimmy's smoldering bonfires in the lane. My cats were there, too. Stealthy, goblin-eyed, harmonizing with the hour and the place. The twilight, appropriately called the cat's light, is the only time when a cat really reveals himself. Sassy Sal was thin and gleaming, like the silvery ghost of a pussy. Daff was like a dark, gray, skulking tiger. He certainly gives the world assurance of a cat. He doesn't condescend to everyone, and he never talks too much.

Starting point is 07:28:29 They pounced at my feet and tore off and frisked back and rolled each other over. and were all so a part of the night and the haunted place that they didn't disturb my thoughts at all. I walked up and down the paths, and around the dial and the summerhouse in exhilaration. Air such as I breathed then always makes me a little drunk, I verily believe. I laughed at myself for feeling badly over not being elected an owl. An owl? Why, I felt like a young eagle soaring sunward. All the world was before me to see and learn, and I exulted in it. The future was mine and the past, too.

Starting point is 07:29:11 I felt as if I had been alive here, always, as if I shared in all the loves and lives of the old house. I felt as if I would live always. Always. Always. I was sure of immortality then. I didn't just believe it. I felt it. Dean found me there.

Starting point is 07:29:30 He was close beside me before I was aware of his presence. You're smiling, said Dean. I like to see a woman smiling to herself. Her thoughts must be innocent and pleasant. Has the day been kind to you, dear lady? Very kind, and this evening is its best gift. I'm so happy tonight, Dean. Just to be alive makes me happy. I feel as if I were driving a team of stars. I wish such a mood could last. I feel so sure of myself tonight, so sure of my future. I'm not afraid of anything. At life's banquet of success, I may not be the guest of honor, but I'll be among those present.

Starting point is 07:30:11 You looked like a CRS gazing into the future as I came down the walk, said Dean, standing here in the moonlight white and wrapped. Your skin is like a narcissus pedal. You could dare to hold a white rose against your face. Very few women can dare that. You aren't really very pretty, you know, star, but your face makes people think a beautiful thing. and that is a far rarer gift than mere beauty. I like Dean's compliments. They are always different from anybody else's.

Starting point is 07:30:42 And I like to be called a woman. You'll make me vain, I said. Not with your sense of humor, said Dean. A woman with a sense of humor is never vain. The most malevolent bad fairy in the world couldn't bestow two such drawbacks on the same christened babe. Do you call a sense of humor a drawback? I asked.

Starting point is 07:31:02 To be sure it is. is. A woman who has a sense of humor possesses no refuge from the merciless truth about herself. She cannot think herself misunderstood. She cannot revel in self-pity. She cannot comfortably damn anyone who differs from her. No, Emily, the woman with a sense of humor isn't to be envied. This view of it hadn't occurred to me. We sat down on the stone bench and thrashed it out. Dean is not going away this winter. I'm glad I would miss him horribly. If I can't have a good spiel with Dean, at least once a fortnight, life seems faded. There's so much color in our talks, and then at times he can be so eloquently quiet. Part of the time tonight he was like that.

Starting point is 07:31:46 We just sat there in the dream and dusk and quiet of the old garden and heard each other's thoughts. Part of the time he told me tales of old lands and the gorgeous bazaars of the east. Part of the time he asked me about myself and my studies and my doings. I'm a lot of the time. I like a man who gives me a chance now and then to talk about myself. What have you been reading lately? he asked. This afternoon, after I finished the pickles, I read several of Mrs. Browning's poems. We have her in our English work this year, you know? My favorite poem is the lay of the brown rosary, and I am much more in sympathy with Onora

Starting point is 07:32:23 than Mrs. Browning was. You would be, said Dean. That is because you are a creature of emotion yourself. You would barter heaven for love, just as Onora did. I will not love. To love is to be a slave, I said. And the minute I said it, I was ashamed of saying it, because I knew I had just said it to sound clever.

Starting point is 07:32:43 I don't really believe that to love is to be a slave, not with Murray's anyhow. But Dean took me quite seriously. Well, one must be a slave to something in this kind of a world, he said. No one is free. Perhaps, after all, oh daughter of the stars, love is the easiest master. Easier than hate or fear or necessity or ambition or pride. By the way, how are you getting on with the love-making parts of your stories?

Starting point is 07:33:14 You forget, I can't write stories just now. When I can, well, you know long ago you promised you would teach me how to make love artistically. I said it in a teasing way, just for a joke, but Dean seemed suddenly to become very much in earnest. Are you ready for the teaching? he said, bending forward. For one crazy moment, I really thought he was going to kiss me. I drew back. I felt myself flushing. All at once I thought of Teddy. I didn't know what to say. I picked up Daff, buried my face in his beautiful fur, listened to his inner purring. At that opportune moment, Anne Elizabeth came to the front door and wanted to know if I had my rubbers on. I hadn't, so I went in and Dean went home. I watched him from my window, limping down the lane. He seemed very lonely, and all at once I felt terribly sorry for him. When I'm with Dean, he's such good company, and we have such good times that I forget there must be another side to his life.

Starting point is 07:34:15 I can only feel such a little corner of it. The rest must be very empty. November 14th, 19. There is a fresh scandal about Emily of New Moon, plus Ilsa of Blair Water. I have just had an unpleasant interview with Aunt Ruth and must write it all out to rid my soul of bitterness. Such a tempest and a teapot over nothing. But Ilsa and I do have the worst luck.

Starting point is 07:34:41 I spent last Thursday evening with Ilsa studying our English literature together. We did an evening of honest work and I left for home at nine. Ilsa came out to the gate with me. It was a soft, dark, gentle, starry night. Ilsa's new boarding house is the last. house on Cardigan Street, and beyond it the road veers over the little creek bridge into the park. We could see the park, dim and luring in the starlight. Let's go for a walk around it before you go home, proposed Ilsa. We went. Of course I shouldn't have. I should have come right home to

Starting point is 07:35:16 bed, like any good consumptive, but I had just completed my autumnal course of cod liver emulsion, ugh, and I thought I might defy the night air for once. So we went, and it was the delightful. Away over the harbor we heard the windy music of the November hills, but among the trees of the park it was calm and still. We left the road and wandered up a little side trail through the spicy fragrant evergreens on the hill. The firs and pines are always friendly, but they tell you no secrets as maples and poplars do. They never reveal their mysteries, never betray their long-guarded lore, and so, of course, they are more interesting than any other trees. The whole hillside was full of nice, elfish sounds and cool, elusive night smells,

Starting point is 07:36:04 balsam and frosted fern. We seemed to be in the very heart of a peaceful hush. The knight put her arms around us like a mother and drew us close together. We told each other everything. Of course, next day I repented me of this, though Ilsa is a very satisfactory confidant and never betrays anything, even in her rages. But then it is not a Murray tradition.

Starting point is 07:36:28 to turn your soul inside out even to your dearest friend. But darkness and fur-balsam make people do such things, and we had lots of fun too. Ilsa is such an exhilarating companion. You're never dull a moment in her company. Altogether, we had a lovely walk and came out of the park feeling dearer to each other than ever, with another beautiful memory to share.

Starting point is 07:36:52 Just at the bridge, we met Teddy and Perry coming off the Western Road. They'd been out for a constitutional hike, It happens to be one of the times Ilsa and Perry are on speaking terms, so we all walked across the bridge together, and then they went their way, and we went ours. I was in bed and asleep by ten o'clock. But somebody saw us walking across the bridge.

Starting point is 07:37:14 Next day, it was all through the school. Day after that, all through the town, that Ilsa and I have been prowling in the park with Teddy Kent and Perry Miller till 12 o'clock at night. Aunt Ruth heard it and summoned me to the bar of Joe, judgment tonight. I told her the whole story, but of course she didn't believe it. You know I was home at a quarter to ten last Thursday night, Aunt Ruth, I said. I suppose the time was exaggerated, admitted Aunt Ruth. But there must have been something

Starting point is 07:37:44 to start such a story. There's no smoke without some fire. Emily, you are treading in your mother's footsteps. Suppose we leave my mother out of the question. She's dead, I said. The point is, Aunt Ruth, do you believe me or do you not? I don't believe it was as bad as the report, Aunt Ruth said reluctantly, but you have got yourself talked about. Of course, you must expect that, as long as you run with Ilsa Burnley and off-scowrings of the gutter like Perry Miller. Andrew wanted you to go for a walk in the park last Friday evening,

Starting point is 07:38:22 and you refused. I heard you. That would have been too respectable, of course. "'Exactly,' I said. "'That was the very reason. "'There's no fun in anything that's too respectable.' "'Impertinence, Miss, is not wit,' said Aunt Ruth. "'I didn't mean to be impertinent, "'but it does annoy me to have Andrew flung in my teeth like that.

Starting point is 07:38:44 "'Andrew is going to be one of my problems. "'Dine thinks it's great fun. "'He knows what is in the wind as well as I do. "'He is always teasing me about my red-headed young man, my R-H-Y-M for short. He's almost a rhyme, said Dean. But never a poem, said I, certainly. Poor, good, dear Andrew is the stodgiest of prose.

Starting point is 07:39:09 Yet I'd like him well enough if the whole Murray clan weren't literally throwing him at my head. They want me to get safely engaged before I'm old enough to elope. And who's so safe as Andrew Murray? Oh, as Dean says, nobody is free. never, except just for a few brief moments now and then, when the flash comes, or when, as on my haystack night, the soul slips over into eternity for a little space. All the rest of our years, we are slaves to something. Traditions, conventions, ambitions, relations. And sometimes, as tonight, I think that last is the hardest bondage of all. New Moon, December 3rd, 19.

Starting point is 07:39:55 I am here in my own dear room, with a fire in my little fireplace by the grace of Aunt Elizabeth. An open fire is always lovely, but it is ten times lovelier on a stormy night. I watched the storm from my window until darkness fell. There is a singular charm in snow coming gently down in slanting lines against dark trees. I wrote a description of it in my Jimmy book as I watch. A wind has come up since, and now my room is full of the soft, forlorn sigh of snow, driving through Lofty John's Sprucewood. It is one of the loveliest sounds in the world.

Starting point is 07:40:39 Some sounds are so exquisite, far more exquisite than anything seen. Daff's purr, there on my rug, for instance, and the snap and crackle of the fire, and the squeaks and scrambles of mice that are having a jamboree behind the wainscot. I love to be alone in my room like this. I like to think even the mice are having a good time. And I get so much pleasure out of all my little belongings. They have a meaning for me they have for no one else. I have never, for one moment, felt at home in my room at Aunt Ruth's,

Starting point is 07:41:14 but as soon as I come here, I enter into my kingdom. I love to read here, dream here, sit by the window and shape some airy fancy into verse. I've been reading one of Father's books tonight. I always feel so beautifully near to Father when I read his books, as if I might suddenly look over my shoulder and see him. And so often I come across his pencilled notes on the margin, and they seem like a message from him. The book I'm reading tonight is a wonderful one,

Starting point is 07:41:45 wonderful in plot and conception, wonderful in its grasp of motives and passions. As I read it, I feel humbled and insignificant, which is good for me. I say to myself, you poor, pitiful little creature, did you ever imagine you could write? If so, your delusion is now stripped away from you forever, and you behold yourself in your naked paltriness. But I shall recover from this state of mind, and believe again that I can write a little, and go on cheerfully producing sketches and poems until I can do better.

Starting point is 07:42:19 In another year and a half my promise to Aunt Elizabeth will be out, and I can write stories again. Meanwhile, patience. To be sure, I get a bit weary at times of saying patience and perseverance. It is hard not to see all at once the results of those estimable virtues. Sometimes I feel that I want to tear around and be as impatient as I like. But not tonight. Tonight, I feel as contented as a cat on a rug. I would purr if I knew how. 9th, 19. This was Andrew Knight. He came all beautifully groomed up as usual. Of course, I like a boy who

Starting point is 07:43:05 gets himself up well, but Andrew really carries it too far. He always seems as if he had just been starched and ironed and was afraid to move or laugh for fear he'd crack. When I'd come to think of it, I've never heard Andrew give a hearty laugh yet, and I know he never hunted pirate gold when he was a boy. But he's good and sensible and tidy, and his nails are always clean, and the bank manager thinks a great deal of him. And he likes cats in their place. Oh, I don't deserve such a cousin. January 5th, 19. Holidays are over. I had a beautiful two weeks at old white-hooded new moon. The day before Christmas, I had five acceptances. I wonder I didn't go crazy. Three of them were from magazines who don't pay anything but subscriptions for contributions. But the others were accompanied

Starting point is 07:44:01 by checks, one for two dollars for a poem, and one for ten dollars for my sands of time, which has been taken at last. My first story acceptance. Aunt Elizabeth looked at the checks and said wonderingly, Do you suppose the bank will really pay you money for those? She could hardly believe it, even after cousin Jimmy took them to Shrewsbury and cashed them. Of course, the money goes to my Shrewsbury expenses, but I had no end of fun planning how I would have spent it if I had been free to spend. Perry is on the high school team who will debate with the Queens Academy Boys in February.

Starting point is 07:44:40 Good for Perry. It's a great honor to be chosen on that team. The debate is a yearly occurrence, and Queens has won for three years. Ilsa offered to coach Perry on the elocution of his speech, and she is taking no end of trouble with him, especially in preventing him from saying, development, when he means development.

Starting point is 07:45:01 It's awfully good of her, for she really doesn't like him. I do hope Shrewsbury will win. We have the ideals of the king in English class this term. I like some things in them, but I detest Tennyson's Arthur. If I had been Guinevere, I'd have boxed his ears, but I wouldn't have been unfaithful to him for Lancelot, who was just as odious in a different way.

Starting point is 07:45:26 As for Garaint, if I had been Enid, I'd have bitten him. These patient Griselda's deserve all they get. Lady Enid, if you had been a Murray of New Moon, you would have kept your husband in better order, and he would have liked you all the better for it. I read a story tonight. It ended unhappily. I was wretched until I had invented a happy ending for it. I shall always end my stories happily.

Starting point is 07:45:54 I don't care whether it's true to life or not. It's true to life as it should be, and that's a better truth than the other. Speaking of books, I read an old one of Aunt Ruth's the other day, the children of the abbey. The heroine fainted in every chapter and cried courts if anyone looked at her.

Starting point is 07:46:13 But as for the trials and persecutions she underwent in spite of her delicate frame, Their name was Legion, and no fair maiden of these degenerate days could survive half of them, not even the newest of new women. I laughed over the book until I amazed Aunt Ruth, who thought it a very sad volume. It is the only novel in Aunt Ruth's house. One of her bows gave it to her when she was young. It seems impossible to think that Aunt Ruth ever had bows.

Starting point is 07:46:44 Uncle Dutton seems in unreality, and even his picture on the crape-draped easel in the parlor cannot convince me of his existence. January 21st, 19. Friday night, the debate between Shrewsbury High and Queens came off. The Queens boys came up believing they were going to come, see, and conquer,

Starting point is 07:47:06 and went home like the proverbial dogs with carefully adjusted tails. It was really Perry's speech that won the debate. He was a wonder. Even Aunt Ruth admitted for the first time that there was something in him. After it was over, he came rushing up to Ilsa and me in the corridor. Didn't I do great, Emily,

Starting point is 07:47:26 he demanded. I knew it was in me, but I didn't know if I could get it out. When I got up at first, I felt tongue-tied, and then I saw you looking at me as if you said, you can, you must, and I went ahead full steam. You won that debate, Emily. Now, wasn't that a nice thing to say before Ilsa, who had worked for hours with him and drilled and slaved. Never a word of tribute to her. Everything to me, who hadn't done a thing except look interested. Perry, you're an ungrateful barbarian, I said, and left him there with his jaw dropping. Ilsa was so furious, she cried.

Starting point is 07:48:08 She has never spoken to him since, and that ass of a Perry can't understand why. What she peeved about now? I thanked her for all her. trouble at our last practice, he said. Certainly, stovepipe town has its limitations. February 2nd, 19. Last night, Mrs. Rogers invited Aunt Ruth and meet a dinner to meet her sister and brother-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Herbert. Aunt Ruth had her Sunday scallops in her hair, and wore her brown velvet dress that reeked of mothballs and her big oval brute with Uncle Dutton's hair in it. And I put on my ashes of roses and Princess Mina's necklace and went, quivering with

Starting point is 07:48:47 excitement for Mr. Herbert is a member of the Dominion cabinet and a man who stands in the presence of kings. He has a massive silverhead and eyes that have looked into people's thoughts so long that you have an uncanny feeling that they can see right into your soul and read motives. You don't dare a vow even to yourself. His face is a most interesting one. There is so much in it. All the varied experiences of his full, wonderful life had written it over. One could tell at sight, that he was a born leader. Mrs. Rogers let me sit beside him at dinner. I was afraid to speak. Afraid I'd say something stupid, afraid I'd make some ludicrous mistake. So I'd just sat quiet as a mouse and listened adoringly. Mrs. Rogers told me today that Mr. Herbert said, after we had left,

Starting point is 07:49:35 "'That little star girl of New Moon is the best conversationalist of any girl of her age I ever met.' So even great statesmen. But there, I won't be horrid. And he was splendid. He was wise and witty and humorous. I felt as if I were drinking in some rare stimulating mental wine. I forgot even Aunt Ruth's mothballs. What an event it is to meet such a man

Starting point is 07:50:00 and take a peep through his wise eyes at the fascinating game of empire building. Perry went to the station today to get a glimpse of Mr. Herbert. Perry says he will be just as great a man. someday. But no. Perry can, and I believe will, go far, climb high, but he will only be a successful politician, never a statesman. Ilsa flew into me when I said this. I hate Perry Miller, she fumed, but I hate snobbery worse. You're a snob, Emily Starr. You think just because Perry comes from stovepipe town, that he can never be a great man? If he had been one of the sacred murder,

Starting point is 07:50:41 worries, you would see no limits to his attainments. I thought Ilsa was unfair, and I lifted my head haughtily. After all, I said, there is a difference between New Moon and Stovepipe Town. End of Chapter 16. Chapter 17, Emily Climes. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Nancy Halper, Summit, New Jersey. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Chapter 17. If a Body Kiss a Body

Starting point is 07:51:28 It was half past ten o'clock, and Emily realized with a sigh that she must go to bed. When she had come in at half-past nine from Alice Kennedy's thimble party, she had asked permission of Aunt Ruth to sit up an hour later to do some special studying. Aunt Ruth had consented reluctantly and suspiciously, and had to have to be a gone to bed herself with sundry warnings regarding candles and matches. Emily had studied diligently for 45 minutes and written poetry for 15. The poem burned for completion, but Emily resolutely pushed her portfolio away. At that moment she remembered that she had left her Jimmy book in her school bag in the dining room. This would never do. Aunt Ruth would be down

Starting point is 07:52:11 before her in the morning, and would inevitably examine the book bag, find the Jimmy book and read it. There were things in that Jimmy book it was well Aunt Ruth should not see. She must slip down and bring it up. Very quietly she opened her door and tiptoe downstairs, in anguish at every creaking step. Aunt Ruth, who slept in the big front bedroom at the other end of the hall, would surely hear those creaks. They were enough to waken the dead. They did not waken Aunt Ruth, however, and Emily reached the dining room,

Starting point is 07:52:42 found her book bag, and was just going to return when she happened to glance at the mantelpiece. there, propped up against the clock, was a letter for her which had evidently come by the evening mail, a nice thin letter with the address of a magazine in the corner. Emily set her candle on the table, tore open the letter, found the acceptance of a poem and a check for three dollars. Acceptances, especially acceptances with checks, were still such rare occurrences with our Emily that they always made her a little crazy. She forgot Aunt Ruth. She forgot that it was nearing 11 o'clock. She stood there entranced, reading over and over the brief editorial note. Brief, but oh, how sweet. You are charming poem. We would like to see more of your work.

Starting point is 07:53:28 Oh, yes, indeed, they should see more of it. Emily turned with a start. Was that a tap at the door? No, at the window. Who, what? The next moment she was aware that Perry was standing on the side veranda, grinning at her through the window. She was added in a flash, and without pausing to think, still in the exhilaration of her acceptance, she slipped the catch and pushed the window up. She knew where Perry had been and was dying to know how he had got along. He had been invited to dinner with Dr. Hardy in the Fine Queen Street House.

Starting point is 07:54:00 This was considered a great honor and very few students ever received it. Perry owed the invitation to his brilliant speech at the inter-school debate. Dr. Hardy had heard it and decided that here was was a coming man. Perry had been enormously proud of the invitation, and had bragged of it to Teddy and Emily, not to Ilsa, who had not yet forgiven him for his tactlessness on the night of the debate. Emily had been pleased, but had warned Perry that he would need to watch his step at Dr. Hardy's. She felt some qualms in regard to his etiquette, but Perry had felt none. He would be all right, he loftily declared. Perry perched himself on the windowsill and Emily sat down on the

Starting point is 07:54:39 corner of the sofa, reminding herself that it could be only for a minute. Saw the light in the window as I went past, said Perry, so I thought I'd just take a sneak round to the side and see if it was you. Wanted to tell you the tale while it was still fresh. Say, Emily, you were right, R-I-G-H-T. I should smile. I wouldn't go through this evening again for a hundred dollars. How did you get along? asked Emily anxiously. In a sense, she felt responsible for Perry's manners, such as he had acquired at New Moon. Perry grinned. It's a heart-rending tale. I've had a lot of conceit taken out of me. I suppose you'll say that's a good thing. You could spare some, said Emily Cooley. Perry shrugged his shoulders. Well, I'll tell you all about it if you won't tell Eelsor-Tedty. I'm not going to have them laughing at me.

Starting point is 07:55:27 I went to Queen Street at the proper time. I remember all you'd said about boots and tie and nails and handkerchief, and I was all right outside. When I got to the house, my troubles began. It was so big and splendid I felt cool. queer. Not afraid. I wasn't afraid then, but just a bit as if I was ready to jump, like a strange cat when you try to pat it. I rang the bell. Of course it stuck and kept on ringing like mad. I could hear it away down the hall and thinks I, they'll think I don't know any better than to keep on ringing it till somebody comes, and that rattled me. The maid rattled me still more. I didn't know whether I ought to shake hands with her or not. Oh, Perry. Well, I didn't. I never was to a house, but there was a maid like that before, all dolled up with a cap and finicky little apron.

Starting point is 07:56:11 She made me feel like thirty cents. Did you shake hands with her? No. Emily gave a sigh of relief. She held the door open and I went in. I didn't know what to do then. Guess I'd have stood there until I took root, only Dr. Hardy himself came, came through the hall. He shook hands and showed me where to put my hat and coat, and then he took me into the parlor to meet his wife. The floor was as slippery as ice, and just as I stepped on the rug inside the parlor door, it went clean from under me, and down I went, and slid across the floor, feet foremost, right to Mrs. Hardy. I was on my back, not on my stomach, or it would have been quite the proper oriental caper, wouldn't it? Emily couldn't laugh. Oh, Perry! Great snakes, Emily, it wasn't my fault. All the etiquette in the world couldn't

Starting point is 07:56:58 have prevented it. Of course I felt like a fool, but I got up and laughed. Nobody else laughed. They were all decent. Mrs. Hardy was smooth as wax, hoped I hadn't hurt myself. And Dr. Hardy said he had slipped the same way more than once after they had given up their good old carpets and taken to rugs and hardwood. I was scared to move, so I sat down in the nearest chair and there was a dog on it, Mrs. Hardy's peak. Oh, I didn't kill it. I got the worst scare of the two. By the time I had made port in another chair, the sweat perspiration was just pouring down my face. Some more folks arrived just then, so that kind of took the edge off me, and I had time to get my bearings. I found I had about ten pairs of hands and feet, and my boots were too big and coarse. Then I found myself with my hands in my pockets,

Starting point is 07:57:45 whistling. Emily began to say, oh, Perry, but bit it off and swallowed it. What was the use of saying anything? I knew that wasn't proper, so I stopped and took my hands out, and began to bite my nails. Finally, I put my hands underneath me and sat on him. I doubled my feet back under my chair, and I sat like that till we went out to dinner. Sat like that when a fat old lady waddled in and all the other fellows stood up. I didn't. Didn't see any reason for it. There was plenty of chairs. But later on it occurred to me that it was some etiquette stunt and I ought to have got up too. Should I? Of course, said Emily Wearily. Don't you remember how Ilsa used to rag you about that very thing? Oh, I'd forgotten. Ilsa was always jawn about something. But live and learn. I

Starting point is 07:58:33 I won't forget again, you bet. There were three or four other boys there, the new French teacher and a couple of bankers, and some ladies. I got out to dinner without falling over the floor, and got into a chair between Miss Hardy and the aforesaid old lady. I gave one look over that table, and then, Emily, I knew what it was to be afraid at last, all right. I never knew it before, honest. It's an awful feeling. I was in a regular funk. I used to think you carried fierce style at New Moon when you had company, but I never saw anything like that table, and everything so dazzling and glittering, and enough forks and spoons and things at one place to fit everybody out. There was a piece of bread folded in my napkin, and it fell out and went skating over the floor. I could feel myself

Starting point is 07:59:16 turning red all over my face and neck. I suppose you call it blushing. I never blushed a four, before, that I remember. I didn't know whether I ought to get up and go and pick it up or not. then the maid brought me another one. I used the wrong spoon to eat my soup with, but I tried to remember what your aunt Laura said about the proper way to eat soup. I'd get on all right for a few spoonfuls, then I'd get interested in something somebody was saying and go, gulp. Did you tilt your plate to get the last spoonful? asked Emily despairingly.

Starting point is 07:59:48 No, I was just going to when I remembered it wasn't proper. I hated to lose it, too. It was awful good soup, and I was hungry. The good old dowager next to me, did. I got on pretty well with the meat and vegetables except once. I had packed a load of meat and potatoes on my fork, and just as I lifted it, I saw Mrs. Hardy eyeing it, and I remembered I oughtn't to have loaded up my fork like that, and I jumped, and it all fell off in my napkin. I didn't know whether it would be etiquette to scrape it up and put it back on my plate, so I left it there.

Starting point is 08:00:19 The pudding was all right, only I ate it with a spoon, my soup spoon, and everyone else at theirs with a fork. but a taste is just as good one way as another, and I was getting reckless. You always use spoons at New Moon to eat pudding. Why didn't you watch what the others did and imitate them? Too rattled. But I'll say this. For all the style, the eats weren't a bit better than you have at New Moon, no, nor is good by a jugful. Your Aunt Elizabeth's cooking would knock the spots off the Hardee's every time, and they didn't give you too much of anything.

Starting point is 08:00:51 After the dinner was over, we went back to the parlor. They call it a living room. and things weren't so bad. I didn't do anything out of the way except knock over a bookcase. Perry? Well, it was wobbly. I was leaning against it talking to Mr. Hardy, and I suppose I leaned too hard, for the blooming thing went over. But writing it and getting the books back seemed to loosen me up, and I wasn't so tongue-tied after that. I got on not too bad, only every once in a long while I'd let slip a bit of slang before I could catch it. I'd tell you, I wished I'd taken your advice about talking slang. Once, the fat old lady agreed with something I'd said. She had sense if she did have three chins. And I was so tickled to find her on my side that I got excited and said to her,

Starting point is 08:01:34 You bet your boots before I thought. And I guess I bragged a bit. Do I brag too much, Emily? This question had never presented itself to Perry before. You do, said Emily candidly, and it's very bad form. Well, I felt kind of cheap after I'd done it. I guess I've got to an awful lot to learn yet, Emily. I'm going to buy a book on etiquette and learn it off my heart. No more evenings like this for me. But it was better at the last. Jim Hardy took me off to the den and we played checkers and I licked him dizzy. Nothing wrong with my checker etiquette, I tell you. And Mrs. Hardy said my speech at the debate was the best she had ever heard for a boy of my age, and she wanted to know what I meant to go in for. She's a great little dame and has the social

Starting point is 08:02:19 into things down fine. That is one reason I want you to marry me when the time comes, Emily. I've got to have a wife with brains. Don't talk nonsense, Perry, said Emily haughtily. Tisn't nonsense, said Perry stubbornly. And it's time we settled something. You needn't turn up your nose at me because you're a Murray. I'll be worth marrying some day, even for a Murray. Come, put me out of my misery.

Starting point is 08:02:43 Emily rose disdainfully. She had her dreams, as all girls have. The Rose read one of love among them, but Perry Miller had no share in those dreams. I'm not a Murray, and I'm going upstairs. Good night. Wait half a second, said Perry with a grin. When the clock strikes eleven, I'm going to kiss you. Emily did not for a moment believe that Perry had the slightest notion of doing anything of the kind,

Starting point is 08:03:09 which was foolish of her, for Perry had a habit of always doing what he said he was going to do. But then, he had never been sentimental. She ignored his remark, but lingered a moment to ask another question about the Hardy dinner. Perry did not answer the question. The clock began to strike 11 as she asked it. He flung his legs over the window sill and stepped into the room. Emily realized too late that he meant what he said. She had only time to duck her head and Perry's hearty, energetic smack. There was nothing subtle about Perry's kisses, fell on her ear instead of her cheek. At the very moment Perry kissed her, and before her indignant protest could rush to her lips, two things happened. A guy. A guy. A guy. A guy,

Starting point is 08:03:51 Rust of wind swept in from the veranda and blew the little candle out, and the dining-room door opened and Aunt Ruth appeared in the doorway, robed in a pink flannel nightgown and carrying another candle, the light of which struck upward with gruesome effect on her set face with its halo of crimping pins. This is one of the places where a conscientious biographer feels that, in the good old phrase, her pen cannot do justice to the scene. Emily and Perry stood as if turned to stone. So for a moment did Aunt Ruth. Aunt Ruth had expected to find Emily there, writing, as she had done one night a month previously when Emily had had an inspiration at bedtime and had slipped down to the warm dining room to jot it in a Jimmy book. But this! I must admit it did look bad. Really, I think we can hardly blame Aunt Ruth for righteous indignation. Aunt Ruth looked at the unlucky pair. What are you doing here? She asked Perry.

Starting point is 08:04:49 Stovepipe Town made a mistake. Oh, looking for a round square, said Perry offhandedly, his eyes suddenly becoming limpid with mischief and lawless roguery. Perry's impudence, Aunt Ruth called it that, and really, I think he was impudent. Naturally made a bad matter worse. Aunt Ruth turned to Emily. Perhaps you can explain how you came to be here at this hour, kissing this fellow in the dark. Emily flinched from the crude vulgarity of the question as if Aunt Ruth had struck her. She forgot how much appearances justified Aunt Ruth, and let a perverse spirit enter into and possess her. She lifted her head haughtily. I have no explanation to give to such a question, Aunt Ruth. I didn't think you would have. Aunt Ruth gave a very disagreeable laugh,

Starting point is 08:05:39 through which a thin, discordant note of triumph sounded. One might have thought that, under all her anger, something pleased Aunt Ruth. It is pleasant to be justified in the opinion we have always entertained of anybody. Well, perhaps you will be so good as to answer some questions. How did this fellow get here? Window, said Perry laconically,

Starting point is 08:05:59 seeing that Emily was not going to answer, I was not asking you, sir, go, said Aunt Ruth, pointing dramatically to the window. I'm not going to stir a step out of, of this room until I see what you're going to do to Emily, said Perry stubbornly. I, said Aunt Ruth, with an air of terrible detachment, am not going to do anything to Emily. Mrs. Dutton, be a good sport, implored Perry coaxingly. It's all my fault, honest. Emily wasn't one bit to blame. You see, it was this way,

Starting point is 08:06:29 but Perry was too late. I have asked my niece for an explanation and she has refused to give it. I do not choose to listen to yours. But, persisted Perry. "'You had better go, Perry,' said Emily, whose face was flying danger signals. She spoke quietly, but the murriest of all Murray's could not have expressed a more definite command. There was a quality in it Perry dared not disregard. He meekly scrambled out of the window into the night. Aunt Ruth stepped forward and shut the window. Then, ignoring Emily utterly, she marched her pink-flanneled little figure back upstairs. Emily did not sleep much that night, nor, I admit, did she deserve to. After her sudden anger died away, shame cut her like a whip.

Starting point is 08:07:15 She realized that she had behaved very foolishly in refusing an explanation to Aunt Ruth. Aunt Ruth had a right to it, when such a situation developed in her own house, no matter how hateful and disagreeable she had made her method of demanding it. Of course, she would not have believed a word of it, but Emily, if she had given it, would not have further complicated her false position. Emily fully expected she would be sent home to New Moon in disgrace. Aunt Ruth would stonily declined to keep such a girl any longer in her house. Aunt Elizabeth would agree with her. Aunt Laura would be heartbroken. Would even Cousin Jimmy's loyalty stand the strain? It was a very bitter prospect.

Starting point is 08:07:56 No wonder Emily spent a white night. She was so unhappy that every beat of her heart seemed to hurt her. And again, I say, most unequivocally, she deserved it. I haven't won't. one word of pity or excuse for her. End of Chapter 17. Recording by Nancy Halper, Summit, New Jersey. Chapter 18 of Emily Climes. This is a Libravox recording.

Starting point is 08:08:28 All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Nancy Halper, Summit, New Jersey. Emily Climes by Lucy Maude Montgomery. chapter eighteen circumstantial evidence at the saturday morning breakfast table aunt ruth preserved a stony silence but she smiled cruelly to herself as she buttered and ate her toast anyone might have seen clearly that aunt ruth was enjoying herself and with equal clearness that emily was not Aunt Ruth passed Emily the toast and marmalade with killing politeness, as if to say,

Starting point is 08:09:11 I will not abate one jot or tittle of the proper thing. I may turn you out of my house, but it will be your own fault if you go without your breakfast. After breakfast, Aunt Ruth went uptown. Emily suspected that she had gone to telephone to Dr. Burnley, a message for New Moon. She expected when Aunt Ruth returned to be told to pack her trunk, but still Aunt Ruth spoke not.

Starting point is 08:09:34 In the middle of the afternoon, cousin Jimmy arrived with the double-seated box sleigh. Aunt Ruth went out and conferred with him. Then she came in and at last broke her silence. Put on your wraps, she said. We are going to New Moon. Emily obeyed mutely. She got into the back seat of the sleigh, and Aunt Ruth sat beside cousin Jimmy in front. Cousin Jimmy looked back at Emily over the collar of his fur coat and said, "'Hello, pussy!' "'With just a shade too much of cheerful encouragement. Evidently, Cousin Jimmy believed something very serious had happened,

Starting point is 08:10:11 though he didn't know what. It was not a pleasant drive through the beautiful graze and smokes and pearls of the winter afternoon. The arrival at New Moon was not pleasant. Aunt Elizabeth looked stern. Aunt Laura looked apprehensive. "'I have brought Emily here,' said Aunt Ruth, "'because I do not feel that I can deal with her alone.' you and Laura Elizabeth must pass judgment on her behavior yourselves.

Starting point is 08:10:39 So it was to be a domestic court, with her, Emily, at the bar of justice. Justice, would she get justice? Well, she would make a fight for it. She flung up her head and the color rushed back into her face. They were all in the sitting room when she came down from her room. Aunt Elizabeth sat by the table. Aunt Laura was on the sofa ready to cry. Aunt Ruth was standing on the rug before the fire, looking peevishly at Cousy

Starting point is 08:11:07 who, instead of going to the barn as he should have done, had tied the horse to the orchard fence and had seated himself back in the corner, determined, like Perry, to see what was going to be done to Emily. Ruth was annoyed. She wished Elizabeth would not always insist on admitting Jimmy to family conclaves when he desired to be present. It was absurd to suppose that a grown-up child like Jimmy had any right there. Emily did not sit down. She went and stood by the window, where her black head came out against the crimson curtain as softly and darkly clear as a pine tree against a sunset of spring. Outside, a white-dead world lay in the chilly twilight of early March. Past the garden and the Lombardi poplars, the fields of New Moon looked very lonely and drear,

Starting point is 08:11:55 with the intense red streak of lingering sunset beyond them. Emily shivered. "'Well,' said Cousin Jimmy, "'let's begin and get it over. "'Emily must want her supper.' "'When you know what I know about her, "'you will think she needs something besides supper,' "'said Mrs. Dutton tartly. "'I know all anyone needs know about Emily,' retorted Cousin Jimmy.

Starting point is 08:12:18 "'Jimmy Murray, you are an ass,' said Aunt Ruth angrily. "'Well, we're cousins,' agreed Cousin Jimmy pleasantly. "'Jimmy be silent,' said Elizabeth majestically. Ruth, let us hear what you have to say. Aunt Ruth told the whole story. She stuck to facts, but her manner of telling them made them seem even blacker than they were. She really contrived to make a very ugly story of it, and Emily shivered again as she listened. As the telling proceeded, Aunt Elizabeth's face became harder and colder.

Starting point is 08:12:51 Aunt Laura began to cry, and cousin Jimmy began to whistle. He was kissing her neck, concluded Aunt Ruth. her tone implied that, bad as it was to kiss on ordinary places for kissing, it was a thousandfold more scandalous and disgraceful to kiss the neck. It was my ear, really, murmured Emily, with a sudden impish grin she could not check in time. Under all her discomfort and dread, there was something that was standing back and enjoying this, the drama, the comedy of it. But this outbreak of it was most unfortunate. It made her appear flippant and unashamed.

Starting point is 08:13:27 Now I ask you, said Aunt Ruth, throwing out her pudgy hands, if you can expect me to keep a girl like her any longer in my house? No, I don't think we can, said Elizabeth slowly. Aunt Laura began to sob wildly. Cousin Jimmy brought down the front legs of his chair with a bang. Emily turned from the window and faced them all. I want to explain what happened, Aunt Elizabeth. I think we have heard enough about it, said.

Starting point is 08:13:54 Aunt Elizabeth icily, all the more icily because of a certain bitter disappointment that was filling her soul. She had been gradually becoming very fond and proud of Emily, in her reserved, undemonstrative Murray way. To find her capable of such conduct as this was a terrible blow to Aunt Elizabeth. Her very pain made her the more merciless. No, that won't do now, Aunt Elizabeth, said Emily quietly. I'm too old to be treated like that. You must hear my side of the story. The Murray look was on her face. The look Elizabeth knew and remembered so well of old, she wavered. You had your chance to explain last night, snapped Aunt Ruth, and you wouldn't do it. Because I was hurt and angry over your thinking the worst of me, said Emily.

Starting point is 08:14:39 Besides, I knew you wouldn't believe me. I would have believed you if you had told the truth, said Aunt Ruth. The reason you wouldn't explain last night was because you couldn't think up an excuse for your conduct on the spur of the moment. You've had time to invent something since, I suppose. Did you ever know Emily to tell a lie? demanded cousin Jimmy. Mrs. Dutton opened her lips to say yes, then close them again. Suppose Jimmy should demand a specific instance. She felt sure Emily had told her fibs a score of times, but what proof had she of it?

Starting point is 08:15:13 Did you? persisted that abominable Jimmy. I am not going to be catechized by you. Aunt Ruth turned her back on him. Elizabeth, I've always told you. that girl was deep and sly, haven't I? Yes, admitted poor Elizabeth. Rather thankful that there need be no indecision on that point. Ruth had certainly told her so, times out of number.

Starting point is 08:15:35 And doesn't this show I was right? I'm afraid so. Elizabeth Murray felt that it was a very bitter moment for her. Then it is for you to decide what is to be done about the matter, said Ruth triumphantly. Not yet, interposed cousin Jimmy resolutely. You haven't given you. and Emily the ghost of a chance to explain. That's no fair trial. Now let her talk for ten minutes without interrupting her once. That is only fair, said Elizabeth with sudden resolution. She had a mad,

Starting point is 08:16:06 irrational hope that, after all, Emily might be able to clear herself. Oh, well, Mrs. Dutton yielded ungraciously and sat herself down with a thud on old Archibald Murray's chair. Now, Emily, tell us what really happened, said cousin Jimmy. Well, upon my word, exploded Aunt Ruth. Do you mean to say I didn't tell what really happened? Cousin Jimmy lifted his hand. Now, now, you had your say. Come, pussy. Emily told her story from beginning to end. Something in it carried conviction. Three of her listeners at least believed her, and felt an enormous load lifted from their minds. Even Aunt Ruth, deep down in her heart, knew Emily was telling the truth. But she would not admit it. minute. A very ingenious tale upon my word, she said derisively.

Starting point is 08:16:56 Cousin Jimmy got up and walked across the floor. He bent down before Mrs. Dutton and thrust his rosy face with its forked beard and childlike brown eyes under his shock of gray curls very close to hers. Ruth Murray, he said. Do you remember the story that got around 40 years ago about you and Fred Blair? Do you? Aunt Ruth pushed back her chair. Cousin Jimmy followed her. Do you remember that you were caught in a scrape that looked far worse than this? Didn't it? Again, poor Aunt Ruth pushed back her chair. Again, cousin Jimmy followed. Do you remember how mad you were because people wouldn't believe you? But your father believed you. He had confidence in his own flesh and blood. Hadn't he? Aunt Ruth had reached the wall by this time and had to

Starting point is 08:17:43 surrender at discretion. I remember well enough, she said shortly. Her cheeks were curdled red. Emily looked at her interestedly. Was Aunt Ruth trying to blush? Ruth Dutton was, in fact, living over some very miserable months in her long-pass youth. When she was a girl of 18, she had been trapped in a very ugly situation, and she had been innocent, absolutely innocent. She had been the helpless victim of a most impish combination of circumstances. Her father had believed her story and her own family had backed her up. But her contemporaries had believed the evidence of known facts for years. Perhaps believed it yet, if they ever thought about the matter. Ruth Dutton shivered over the remembrance of her suffering under the lash of scandal.

Starting point is 08:18:29 She no longer dared to refuse credence to Emily's story, but she could not yield gracefully. Jimmy, she said sharply, will you be good enough to go away and sit down? I suppose Emily is telling the truth. It's a pity she took so long deciding to tell it. I'm sure that creature was making love to her. No, he was only asking me to marry him, said Emily Cooley. You heard three gasps in the room. Aunt Ruth alone was able to speak. Do you intend to, may I ask?

Starting point is 08:18:58 No, I've told him so half a dozen times. Well, I'm glad you had that much sense. Stovepipe Town, indeed. Stovepipe Town had nothing to do with it. Ten years from now, Perry Miller will be a man whom even a Murray would delight to honor. But he doesn't happen to be the type of I fancy, that's all. Could this be Emily, this tall young woman coolly giving her reasons for refusing an offer of marriage, and talking about the types she fancied? Elizabeth, Laura, even Ruth looked

Starting point is 08:19:30 at her as if they had never seen her before, and there was a new respect in their eyes. Of course they knew that Andrew was, well, in short, that Andrew was. But years must doubtless pass before Andrew would "'Would—well, would.' "'And now the thing had happened already with another suitor. "'Happened half a dozen times, Mark you.' "'At that moment, although they were quite unconscious of it, "'they ceased to regard her as a child. "'At a bound she had entered their world

Starting point is 08:20:01 "'and must henceforth be met on equal terms. "'There could be no more family courts. "'They felt this, though they did not perceive it. "'Aunt Ruth's next remark showed it. "'She spoke almost as she might have spoken to Laura or Elizabeth, if she had deemed it her duty to admonish them. Just suppose, Emily, if anyone passing had seen Perry Miller sitting in that window at that hour of the night. Yes, of course. I see your angle of it perfectly, Aunt Ruth. All I want is to get

Starting point is 08:20:31 you to see mine. I was foolish to open the window and talk to Perry. I see that now. I simply didn't think. And then I got so interested in the story of his mishaps at Dr. Hardy's dinner that I forgot how time was going. Was Perry Miller to dinner at Dr. Hardee's? asked Aunt Elizabeth. This was another staggerer for her. The world, the Murray world, must be literally turned upside down if stovepipe town was invited to dinner on Queen Street. At the same moment Aunt Ruth remembered with a pang of horror

Starting point is 08:21:03 that Perry Miller had seen her in her pink flannel nightgown. It hadn't mattered before. He had been only the help boy at New Moon. now he was Dr. Hardy's guest. Yes, Dr. Hardy thinks he is a very brilliant debater, and says he has a future, said Emily. Well, snapped Aunt Ruth, I wish you would stop prowling about my house at all hours writing novels.

Starting point is 08:21:27 If you had been in your bed as you should have been, this would never have happened. I wasn't writing novels, cried Emily. I've never written a word of fiction since I promised Aunt Elizabeth. I wasn't writing anything. I told you, I just went down. to get my Jimmy book. Why couldn't you have left that where it was till morning, persisted Aunt Ruth. Come, come, said cousin Jimmy. Don't start up another argument. I want my supper. You girls go and get it.

Starting point is 08:21:55 Elizabeth and Laura left the room as meekly as if old Archibald Murray himself had commanded it. After a moment Ruth followed them. Things had not turned out just as she anticipated, but after all, she was resigned. It would not have been a nice thing for a scandal like this, concerning a Murray to be blown abroad, as must have happened if a verdict of guilty had been found against Emily. So that's settled, said Cousin Jimmy to Emily as the door closed. Emily drew a long breath. The quiet, dignified old room suddenly seemed very beautiful and friendly to her. Yes, thank you, she said, springing across it to give him an impetuous hug. Now scold me, cousin Jimmy, scold me hard. No, no. But it would have been more prudent not to have to have

Starting point is 08:22:40 open that window, wouldn't it now, pussy? Of course it would. But prudence is such a shoddy virtue at times, Cousin Jimmy. One is ashamed of it. One likes to just go ahead and and hang consequences, supplied cousin Jimmy. Something like that, Emily laughed. I hate to go mincing through life, afraid to take a single long step for fear somebody is watching. I want to wave my wild tail and walk by my wild loan. There wasn't a bit of real harm in my opening that window and talking to Perry. There wasn't even any harm in his trying to kiss me. He just did it to tease me. Oh, I hate conventions. As you say, hang consequences. But we can't hang them, pussy. That's just the trouble. They're more likely to hang us. I put it to you, pussy. Suppose there's no harm in supposing it,

Starting point is 08:23:33 that you were grown up and married and had a daughter of your age, and you went downstairs one night and found her as Aunt Ruth found you and Perry. Would you like it? Would you be well pleased? Honest now. Emily stared hard at the fire for a moment. No, I wouldn't, she said at last. But then that's different. I wouldn't know. Cousin Jimmy chuckled. That's the point, Pussy. Other people can't know. So we've got to watch our step. Oh, I'm only simple Jimmy Murray, but I can see we have to watch our stat. Pussy, we're going to have roast spare ribs for supper.

Starting point is 08:24:10 A savory whiff crept in from the kitchen at that very moment, a homely, comfortable odor that had nothing in common with compromising situations and family skeletons. Emily gave cousin Jimmy another hug. Better a dinner of herbs where cousin Jimmy is than roast spare ribs and Aunt Ruth therewith, she said. End of Chapter 18. Recording by Nancy Halper, Summit, New Jersey. Chapter 19 of Emily Climes.

Starting point is 08:24:44 This is a Libervox recording. All Libervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Recording by Christina Ordonews, Climonde, Florida. Emily Climes by Lucy Maude Montgomery, Chapter 19. Airy Voices April 3rd, 19. There are times when I am tempted to believe in the influence.

Starting point is 08:25:06 of evil stars or the reality of unlucky days. Otherwise, how can such diabolical things happen as do happen to while meaning people? Aunt Ruth has only just begun to grow wary of recalling the night she found Perry kissing me in the dining room, and now I'm in another ridiculous scrape. I will be honest. It was not dropping my umbrella which was responsible for it. Neither was it the fact that I let the kitchen mirror at New Moon Fall last Saturday in crack. It was just my own carelessness. St. John's Presbyterian Church here in Shrewsbury became vacant at New Year's and has been hearing candidates. Mr. Towers of the Times asked me to report the sermons for his paper on such Sundays as I was not in Blair Water. The first sermon was good, and I reported it

Starting point is 08:25:49 with pleasure. The second one was harmless, very harmless, and I reported it without pain, but the third, which I heard last Sunday, was ridiculous. I said so to on Ruth on the way home from church, Janonar Ruth said, do you think you're competent to criticize a sermon? Well, yes, I do. That sermon was the most inconsistent thing. Mr. Wickman contradicted himself half a dozen times. He mixed his metaphors. He attributed something to St. Paul that belonged to Shakespeare.

Starting point is 08:26:20 He committed almost every conceivable literary sin, including the unpardonable one of being deadly dull. However, it was my business to report the sermon. so reported I did. Then I had to do something to get it out of my system, so I wrote, for my own satisfaction, an analysis of it. It was a crazy but delightful deed. I showed up all the inconsistencies.

Starting point is 08:26:43 The misquotations, the weaknesses, and the wobbles. I enjoyed writing it. I made it as pointed in satirical and satanical as I could. Oh, I admit it was a very vitriolic document. Then I handed it into the Times by mistake. Mr. Towers passed it over to the typesetter without reading it. he had a touching confidence in my work, which he will never have again. It came out the next day. I awoke to find myself infamous.

Starting point is 08:27:08 I expected Mr. Towers to be furious, but he's only mildly annoyed, and a little amused at the back of it. It isn't as if Mr. Wickman had been a settled minister here, of course. Nobody cared for him or his sermon, and Mr. Towers is a Presbyterian, so the St. John's people can't accuse him of wanting to insult them. It is poor Emily B. on whom has laid the whole burden of condemnation. It appears most of them think I did it to show off. On Ruth is furious. On Elizabeth outrage. On Lord, grieved.

Starting point is 08:27:39 Cousin Jimmy, alarmed. It is such a shocking thing to Curtis has a minister's sermon. It is a merry tradition that minister's sermons, Presbyterian ministers especially, are sacrosanct. My presumption and vanity will yet be the ruin of me, so on Elizabeth coldly informs me. The only person who seems pleased is Mr. Carpenter. Dean is away in New York. I know he would like it too. Mr. Carpenter is telling everyone that my report is the best thing of its kind he ever read,

Starting point is 08:28:07 but Mr. Carpenter is suspected of heresy, so his commendation will not go far to rehabilitate me. I feel wretched over the affair. My mistakes worry me more than my sins sometimes, and yet an unholy something way back in me is grinning over it all. Every word in that report was true, and more than true, appropriate. I didn't mix my metaphors. Now, to live this down. April 20th, 19.

Starting point is 08:28:35 Awake thou wind, and come thou south, blow upon my garden that the spices thereof may flow out. So chanted I as I went through the land of uprightness this evening. Only I put woods in place of garden. For spring is just around the corner and I have forgotten everything but gladness. We had a gray, rainy dawn, but sunshine came in the afternoon. and a bit of April frost tonight, just enough to make the earth firm. It seemed to me a night when the ancient gods might be met within the lonely places, but I saw nothing except only sly things back among the fur corpses that may have been

Starting point is 08:29:12 companies of goblins if they weren't merely shadows. I wonder why goblin is such an enchanting word, and gobbling such an ugly one. Why is shadowy suggestive of all beauty, while embracious is so ugly? But I heard all kinds of fairy sounds and each gave me an exquisite vanishing joy as I went up the hill. There is always something satisfying in climbing to the top of a hill, and that is a hilltop I love. When I reached it, I stood still and let the loveliness of the evening flow through me like music. How the wind woman was singing in the bits of birchelin around me, how she whistled in the serrated tops of the trees against the sky. One of the thirteen new silver moons of the year was hanging over the harbor.

Starting point is 08:29:54 I stood there and thought of many, many beautiful things, of wild, free brooks running through starlit April fields, of rippled gray, sadden seas, of the grace of an elm against the moonlight, of roots stirring and thrilling in the earth, owls laughing in darkness, a curl of foam on a long sandy shore, a young moon setting over a dark hill, the gray of Gulf storms. I had only 75 cents in the world, but paradise isn't bought with money. Then I sat down on an old boulder and tried to put those moments of delicate happiness into a poem. I caught the shape of them fairly well, I think. But not their soul. It escaped me.

Starting point is 08:30:37 It was quite dark when I came back in the whole character of my land of uprightness seemed changed. It was eerie, almost sinister. I would have run if I could have dared. The trees, my old well-known friends, were strange in aloof. The sounds I heard were not the cheery, compassion. sounds of daytime, nor the friendly, fairy sounds of the sunset. They were creeping and weird, as if the life of the woods had suddenly developed something almost hostile to me. Something, at least, that was fervive, an alien, and unacquainted. I could fancy that I heard stealthy footsteps

Starting point is 08:31:12 all around me, that strange eyes were watching me through the bows. When I reached the open space and hopped over the fence into Aunt Ruth's backyard, I felt as if I were escaping from some fascinating, but not altogether hollowed locality, a place given over to paganism and the revels of saders. I don't believe the woods are ever holy Christian in the darkness. There is always a lurking life in them that dares not show itself to the sun, but regains its own with the night. You should not be out in the damp with that cough of yours, said Aunt Ruth. But it wasn't the damp that hurt me, for I was heard. It was that little fascinating whisper of something unholy. I was afraid of it, and yet I loved it. The beauty I loved in the hilltop seemed suddenly quite

Starting point is 08:31:59 tasteless beside it. I sat down in my room and wrote another poem. When I had written it, I felt that I had exercised something out of my soul, and Emily and Glass seemed no longer a stranger to me. On Ruth has just brought in a dose of hot milk and cake and pepper for my cough. It is on the table before me. I have to drink it. It has made both paradise and paganly and seem very foolish and unreal. May 25th, 19. Dean came home from New York last Friday in that evening we walked and talked a new moon garden in a weird, uncanny twilight following a rainy day. I had a light dress on and as Dean came down the path, he said, when I saw you first I thought you were a wild, white cherry tree, like that. And he pointed to one that was leaning and beckoning, ghost fair in the dusk from Lofty John's bush. It was such a beautiful thing that just to be distanced. Personally compared to it made me feel very well pleased with myself, and it was lovely to have dear old Dean back again. So we had a delightful evening and picked a bunch of Cousin Jimmy's Pansies and watched the gray rain clouds draw together in great purple masses in the east,

Starting point is 08:33:08 leaving the western sky all clear and star-powdered. There's something in your company, said Dean, that makes Stah seem starry on pansies purpler. Wasn't that nice of him? How is it that his opinion of me, and on Ruth's opinion of me, are so very different? He had a little flat parcel under his arm, and when he went away he handed it to me. I brought you that to counteract Lord Byron, he said. It was a framed copy of the portrait of Giovanna Dalgi Alpichie, wife of Lorenzo Torno Bonnikilal, a lady of the fourscento.

Starting point is 08:33:44 I brought it to Shrewsbury and have it hanging in my room. I love to look at the Lady Giovanna, slim, beautiful young thing with her sleek coils of pale gold and her prim little curls and her fine, hybrid profile. To the painter flatter her, and her white neck and open, unshadowed brow with the indefinable air over at all of saintliness and remoteness and fate. For the Lady Giovanna died young. And her embroidered velvet sleeves slashed and puffed very beautifully made in fitting the

Starting point is 08:34:18 arm perfectly. the lady giovanna must have had a good dressmaker and in spite of her saintliness one thing she was quite aware of the fact i am always wishing that she would turn her head and let me see her full face onward thinks she is queer-looking and evidently doubts the propriety of having her in the same room with the jeweled chromo of queen alexandra i doubted myself june tenth nineteen i do all my studying now by the pool in the land of uprightness and among those wonderful tall slender trees i'm a druidus in the woods i regard trees with something more than love worship and then two trees unlike so many humans always improve on acquaintance no matter how much you liked them at the start you are sure to like them much better further on and best of all when you have known them for years and enjoyed intercourse with them in all seasons i know a hundred dear things about these trees in the land of uprightness that i didn't know when i came here two years ago trees have as much individuality as human beings not even two spruces are alike there is always some kink or curve or bend of bow to single each one out from its fellows some trees love to grow to grow to grow socially together, their branches twining, like Ilsa and me with their arms about each other, whispering interminably of their secrets. Then there are more exclusive groups of four or five clandmery trees, and there are hermits of trees who choose to stand apart in solitary state,

Starting point is 08:35:44 and who hold commune only with the winds of heaven. Yet these trees are often the best worth knowing. One feels it is more of a triumph to win their confidence than that of easier trees. Tonight, I suddenly saw a great, pulsating star resting on the very crest of the big fur that stands alone in the eastern corner, and I had a sense of two majesties meeting that will abide with me for days and enchant everything, even classroom routine and dishwashing and Aunt Ruth's Saturday cleaning. June 25th, 19. We had our history examination today, the Tudor period. I found it very fascinating, but more because of what isn't in the history, than of what is. They don't. They can't tell you what you would really like to know. What did Jane Seymour think of when she was awake in the dark? Of murdered Anne, or of pale, forsaken Catherine, or just about the fashion of her new rough, did she ever think she had paid too high for her crown, or was she satisfied with her bargain? And was she happy in those few

Starting point is 08:36:49 hours after a little son was born, or did she see a ghostly possession beckoning her onward with them? Was Lady Jean Grey, Janie, to her friends, and did she ever have a fit of temper? What did Shakespeare's wife actually think of him? And was any man ever really in love with Queen Elizabeth? I'm always asking questions like this when I put study that pageant of kings and queens and genuses and puppets put down in the school curriculum as the Tudor period. July 7th, 19, two years of high school are over. The result of my exams was such as to please even on Ruth, who conescended to say that she always knew I could study if I put my mind to it. In brief, I led my class, and I'm pleased, but I began to understand what Dean meant when he said real education was what you dug out of life for yourself. After all, the things that have taught me the most these past two years have been my wanderings in the land of uprightness, and my night on the haystack. and the lady Giovanna and the old woman who spanked the king and trying to write nothing but facts and things like that. Even rejection slips and hating Evelyn Blake have taught me something.

Starting point is 08:38:02 Speaking of Evelyn, she failed in her exams and will have to take her senior year over again. I'm truly sorry. That sounds if I were a most amiable, forgiven creature. Let me be perfectly frank. I am sorry she didn't pass, because if she had, she wouldn't be in school next year. Slide 20th, 19. Ilsa and I go bathing every day now.

Starting point is 08:38:26 Aunt Laura is always very particular about saying that we have her bathing suits with us. I wonder if she ever heard any faint, far-off echoes of our moonlight, pedicodedness. But so far, our dips have been in the afternoon, and afterwards we have a glorious wallow on sun-warm, golden sands, with the gauzy dunes behind us stretching to the harbor. and the lazy blue sea before us dotted over with sails that are silver in the magic of the sunlight oh life is good good good in spite of three rejection slips that came to day those very editors will be asking for my work some day meanwhile anne laura is teaching me how to make a certain rich and complicated kind of chocolate cake after a recipe which a friend of hers in virginia sent her thirty years ago nobody in blair water has ever been able to get it and aunt laura made me solemnly promise i would never reveal it the real name of the cake is devil's food but on elizabeth will not have it called that august second nineteen i was down seeing mr carpenter this evening he is a man

Starting point is 08:39:35 been laid up with rheumatism and one can see he is getting old. He was very cranky with the scholars last year and there was some protests against keeping him on, but it was done. Most of the Blair Water people have sensed enough to realize that with all his crankiness, Mr. Carpenter is a teacher in a thousand. One can't teach fools amiably, he growled. When the trustees told him there were complaints about his harshness, perhaps it was the rheumatism that made Mr. Carpenter rather crusty over the poems I took to him for criticism. When he read the one I had composed that April night on a hilltop, he tossed it back to me. A pretty little gossamer thing, he said.

Starting point is 08:40:15 And I had really thought the poem expressed in some measure the enchantment of that evening. How I must have failed. Then I gave him the poem I had written after I had come in that night. He read it over twice. Then he deliberately tore into strips. Now. Why? I said, rather annoying.

Starting point is 08:40:36 There was nothing wrong about that poem, Mr. Carpenter. Not about its body, he said. Every line of it, taken by itself, might be read in Sunday school. But its soul? What mood were you in when you wrote that in heaven's name? The mood of a golden age, I said. No. Of an age far before that.

Starting point is 08:41:00 That poem was sheer paganism, girl. Though I don't think you realize it. To be sure, from the point of view of literature, it's worth a thousand of your pretty songs. All the same, that way danger lies. Better stick to your own age. You're part of it and can possess it without its possessing you. Emily, there is a streak of diabolism in that poem.

Starting point is 08:41:25 It's enough to make me believe that poets are inspired by some spirits outside themselves. Didn't you feel possessed when you wrote it? yes i said remembering i felt rather glad mr carpenter had torn the poem up i could never have done it myself i have destroyed a great many of my poems that seemed trash on successive readings but this one never seemed so and had always brought back the strange charm and terror of that walk but mr carpenter was right i feel it he also berated me because i happened to mention i had been reading miss heman's poems On Laura has a cherished volume, bound and faded blue and gold, with an inscription from an admirer. In On Laura's youth, it was the thing to give you're adored a volume of poetry on her birthday. The things Mr. Carpenter said about Miss Hemans were not fit to write in a young lady's diary.

Starting point is 08:42:21 I suppose he is right in the main, yet I do like some of her poems. Just here and there comes a line or verse that haunts me for days, delightfully. The march of the host is Alaric past is one, though I can't give any reason for my liking. One never can give reasons for enchantment, and another is. The sounds of the sea and the sounds of the night, where around Clotilda she knelt a prey, in a chapel where the mighty lay on the old proven south shore. That isn't great poetry, but there's a bit of magic in it for all that. Concentrated in the last line, I think.

Starting point is 08:43:01 I never read it without feeling that I am Clotilda, kneeling there on the old proven south shore, with the banners of forgotten wars waving over me. Mr. Carpenter steered at my liking for Slops and told me to go and read the Elsie books, but when I was coming away, he paid me the first personal compliment I ever had from him. I liked that blue dress you got on, and you know how to wear it. That's good. I can't bear to see a woman badly dressed. It hurts me. and it must hurt god almighty i have no use for doubts and i'm sure he hasn't after all if you know how to dress yourself it won't matter if you do like miss heemans i met old kelly on the way home and he stopped and gave me a bag of candy and sent his respects to him august fifteenth nineteen this is a wonderful year for columbines the old orchid is full of them all in lovely white and purple and fairy blue and dreamy pink color they are half wild and so have a charm

Starting point is 08:44:00 no real tamed garden flower ever has, and what a name. Columbine is poetry itself. How much lovely are the common names of flowers are than the horrid Latiny names the florist stick in their catalogs. Heartseys, Embry's Boquet, Prince's Feather, Snapdragon, Flores Paint Brush, Dusty Millers, Batchelor's Budens, Baby's Breath, Love and a Mist. Oh, I love them all. two things happened today. One was a letter from great Aunt Nancy to Aunt Elizabeth. Aunt Nancy has never taken any notice of my existence since my visit to Priest's Pond four years ago, but she is still alive, 94 years old, and from all accounts, quite lively yet.

Starting point is 08:44:49 She wrote some sarcastic things in her letter about both me and Aunt Elizabeth, but she wound up by offering to pay all my expenses in Shrewsbury next year, including my board to Aunt Ruth. I am very glad. In spite of Auntie's sarcasm, I don't mind feeling indebted to her. She has never nagged or patronized me, or did anything for me because she felt it her duty. Hang duty, she said in her letter. I'm doing this because it will vex some of the priests,

Starting point is 08:45:17 and because Wallace is putting on too many errors about helping to educate Emily. I dare say you fail yourself that you've done virtuously. Tell Emily to go back to Shrewsbury and learn all she can, put to hide it and show her ankles aunt elizabeth was horrified at this it wouldn't show me the letter but cousin jimmy told me what was in it the second thing was that aunt elizabeth informed me that since aunt nancy was paying my expenses she aunt elizabeth felt that she ought not to hold me any longer to my promise about writing fiction i was she told me free to do as i choose about that matter so i shall never approve of your writing fiction she said gravely At least I hope you will not neglect your studies. Oh, no, dear Hon Elizabeth, I won't neglect them, but I feel like a released prisoner. My fingers tingle to grasp a pen.

Starting point is 08:46:11 My brain teems with plots. I have a score of fascinating dream characters I want to write about. Oh, if there only were not such a chasm between seeing a thing and getting it down on paper. Ever since you got that check for a story last winter, Elizabeth's been wondering if she oughtn't to let you. write, Cousin Jimmy told me. But she couldn't bring herself to back down until Aunt Nancy's letter gave her the excuse. Money makes the Murray-Mare go, Emily. Want some more Yankee stamps? Miss Kennes told Teddy he can go for another year. After that, he doesn't know what will happen, so we're all going back and I am so happy that I want to write it in italics. September 10th,

Starting point is 08:46:52 19. I have been elected president of the senior class for this year, and the skulls and owls sent me a notice that I had been elected a member of their August fraternity without the formality of an application. Evelyn Blake, by the way, is at present laid up with tonsillitis. I accepted the presidency. But I wrote a note to the skull and owl declining membership with awful politeness. After black beading me last year, indeed, October 7th, 19. There was great excitement today in class when Dr. Hardy made a certain announcement. Kathleen Darcy's uncle, who is a professor, McGill, is visiting here, and he has taken it into his head to offer a prize for the best poem, written by a pupil of Shrewsbury High School, said prize being a complete set of Parkman. The poems must be handed in by the 1st of November, and are to be not less than 20 lines and no more than 60, sounds as if it is a very time. tape measure was the first requisite. I have been wildly hunting through my Jimmy books tonight,

Starting point is 08:47:56 and I've decided to send in wild grapes. It is my second best poem, a song of sixpence in my best, but it has only 15 lines, and to add more would spoil it. I think I can improve wild grapes a bit. There are two or three words in it I've always been dubious about. They don't exactly express fully what I want to say, but I can't find any others that do, either. I can't find any others that do, either. I wish one could coin words, as I used to do long ago when I wrote letters to Father, and just invented a word whenever I wanted one. But then, Father would have understood the words if he had ever seen the letters, while I am afraid the judges in the contest wouldn't.

Starting point is 08:48:36 While Grape should certainly win the prize, this isn't conceit or vanity or presumption. It's just knowing. If the prize were for mathematics, Kat Darcy should win it. If it were for beauty, Hazel Ellis would win it. if it were for all-round proficiency perry miller for elocution ilsa for drawing teddy but since it is for poetry e b star is the one we are studying tennyson and keatson's senior literature this year i like tennyson but sometimes he enrages me he's beautiful not too beautiful as keats is the perfect artist but he never lets us forget the artist we are always conscious of it he's never seen as he's never so beautiful as keats is the perfect artist but he never lets us forget the artist we are always conscious of it he's never seen swept away by some splendid mountain torrent of feeling. Not he, he flows on serenely between well-ordered banks and carefully lit-out gardens,

Starting point is 08:49:28 and no matter how much one loves a garden, one doesn't want to be cooped up in all the time. One likes an excursion now and then into the wilderness. At least Emily Birdstar does, to the sorrow of her relations, Keats is too full of beauty. When I read his poetry, I feel stifled and roses and long for a breath of frosty air or the austerity of a chill mountain peak, but oh, he has some lines. Magic hasten's opening on the foam, of perilous seas and fairylands forlorn. When I read them, I always feel a sort of despair. What is the use of trying to do what has been done, once and for all?

Starting point is 08:50:07 But I've found some other lines that inspire me. I've written them on the index page of my new Jimmy book. He ne'er is crowned, with immortality who fears to follow, where airy voices lead. Oh, it's true. We must follow our airy voices. Follow them through every discouragement and doubt and disbelief till they lead us to our city of fulfillment, wherever it may be. I had four rejections in the mail today, raucously shrieking failure at me. Airy voices grow fain in such a clamor, but I'll hear them in. again, and I will follow. I will not be discouraged. Years ago I wrote a vow. I found it the other day in an old packet in my cup word that I would climb the alpine path and write my name on the scroll of fame. I'll keep on climbing. October 20th, 19, I read my chronicles of an old garden over the other night. I think I can improve it considerably now that Aunt Elizabeth has lifted the band. I wanted Mr. Carpenter to read it, but he said, Lord, girl, I can't wade through all that stuff.

Starting point is 08:51:17 My eyes are bad. What is it? A book? Jade. It will be time ten years from now for you to be writing books. I've got to practice, I said indignantly. Oh, practice, practice, but don't cry out the results on me. I'm too old. I really am, Jade.

Starting point is 08:51:38 I don't mind a short, very short story. Now and then. let a poor old devil off the books. I might ask Dean what he thinks of it, but Dean does laugh now in my ambitions, very cautiously and kindly, but he does laugh. And Teddy thinks everything I write perfect, so he's no use as a critic. I wonder. I wonder if any publisher would accept the Chronicles. I'm sure I've seen books of the kind that weren't much better. November 11th, 19. This evening I spent expurgating a novel for Mr. Towers' use and behoof.

Starting point is 08:52:15 When Mr. Towers was away in August, on his vacation the sub-editor, Mr. Grady, began to run a serial in the Times called A Bleeding Heart. Instead of getting APA stuff, as Mr. Towers always does, Mr. Grady simply brought the reprint of a sensational and sentimental English novel at the shop and began publishing it. It was very long and only about half of it has appeared. Mr. Towers saw that it would run all winter in its present form. so he bade me take it and cut out all necessary stuff i have followed instructions mercilessly cutting out most of the kisses and embraces two-thirds of the love-making in all the descriptions with the happy result that i have reduced it to about a quarter of its normal length and all i can say is may heaven have mercy in the soul of the compositor who has set it in its present mutilated condition summer and autumn have gone it seems to me they go more quick

Starting point is 08:53:12 than they used to. The golden rod has turned white in the corners of the land of uprightness, and the frost lies like a silver scarf on the ground, o' mornings. The evening winds they go piping down the valleys wild, are heartbroken searchers, seeking for things loved and lost, calling in vain on Elf and Fay, for the fairy folk, if they be not all fled afar to the southlands, must be curled up asleep in the hearts of the furs, or among the roots of the ferns. And every night we have murky red sunsets flaming in smoky crimson across the harbor, with a star above them like a saved soul, gazing with compassionate eyes into pits of torment where sinful spirits are being purged from the stains of earthly pilgrimage.

Starting point is 08:54:00 What I dare show the above sentence to Mr. Carpenter? I would not. Therefore there is something fearfully wrong with it. I know what's wrong with it. Now that I've written it in cold blood, it's fine writing. and yet it's just what I felt when I stood on the hill beyond the land of uprightness tonight and looked across the harbor, and who cares what this old journal thinks? December 2nd, 19, the results of the prize poem competition were announced today. Evelyn Blake is the winner with the poem entitled A Legend of a Big Wait.

Starting point is 08:54:33 There isn't anything to say, so I say it. Besides, on Ruth has said everything. December 15th, 19. Evelyn's prize poem was printed in the Times this week with her photograph and a biographical sketch. The set of Parkman is on exhibition in the window of the bookshop. A legend of a baguway is a fairly good poem. It is in ballad style and rhythm and rhyme are correct, which could not be said for any other poem of Evelyn's I've ever seen. Evelyn Blake has said, of everything of mine she ever saw in print, that she was sure I copied it from somewhere.

Starting point is 08:55:09 I hate to imitate her, but I know. that she never wrote that poem it isn't any expression of her at all she might as well have imitated dr hardy's handwriting and claimed it as her own her mincing copper-plate script is as much like dr hardy's black forcible scrawl as that poem is like besides though a legend of a big white is fairly good it is not as good as wild grapes i'm not going to say to any one but down it goes in this journal because it's true december twentieth nineteen i showed a legend of a big white and wildgrips to mr carpenter when he had read them both he said who were the judges i told them give them my compliments and tell them their asses he said i feel comforted i won't tell the judges or anyone that they're asses but it soothes me to know they are the strange thing is aunt elizabeth asked to see wild grapes and when she had read it she said i am no judge of poetry of course but it seems to me that yours is of a higher order January 4th, 19. I spent the Christmas week at Uncle Oliver's. I didn't like it. It was too noisy. I would have liked it years ago, but they never asked me then. I had to eat when I wasn't hungry. Play part cheesy when I didn't want to. Talk when I wanted to be silent. I was never alone for one moment all the time I was there. Besides, Andrew was getting to be such a nuisance. And Aunt Addie was odiously kind and motherly. I just felt all the time like a cat who was held on a a lap where it doesn't want to be and gently, firmly stroked. I had to sleep with Jen, who is my first cousin in just my age, and who thinks in her heart I'm not half good enough for Andrew,

Starting point is 08:56:54 but is going to try with the blessing of God to make the best of it. Jen is a nice, sensible girl, and she and I are friendish. That is the word of my own coining. Jen and I are more than mere acquaintances, but not really friendly. We will always be friendish and never more than friendish. we don't talk the same language. When I got home to Dear New Moon, I went up to my room and shut the door and reveled in solitude. School opened yesterday. Today in the bookshop, I had an eternal laugh.

Starting point is 08:57:25 Miss Rodney and Miss Elder were looking over some books, and Miss Rodney said, That story in the times, A Bleeding Heart, was the strangest one I ever read. It wandered on, chapter after chapter, for weeks, and never seemed to get anywhere. had just finished up in any chapters, Lickety Split. I can't understand it. I could have solved the mystery for her, but I didn't. End of Chapter 19, Airy Voices. Recording by Christina Ordonez,

Starting point is 08:57:56 Claremont, Florida. Chapter 20 of Emily Climes. This is a Librevox recording. All LibreFox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Recording by Ash 707. Emily Climes by Lucimaud Montgomery. Chapter 20. In the Old John House. When the woman who spanked the king was accepted and published by a New York magazine of some standing, quite a sensation was produced in Blair Water and Shrewsbury, especially when the incredible news was whispered from lip to lip that Emily had actually been paid $40 for it. For the first time, her clan began to take her writing mania with some degree of seriousness, and Aunt Ruth gave up, finally and forever, all slurs over wasted time. The acceptance came at the psychological

Starting point is 08:58:38 moment when the sands of Emily's faith were running rather low. All the fall and winter, her stuff had been coming back to her, except from two magazines whose editors evidently thought that literature was its own reward and quite independent of degrading monetary considerations. At first she had always felt dreadfully when a poem or story over which she had agonized came back with one of those icy little rejection slips or a few words of faint praise, the but rejections, Emily called these, and hated them more than the printed ones. Tears of disappointment would come, but after a time she got hardened to it

Starting point is 08:59:11 and didn't mind so much. She only gave the editorial slip, the Murray look, and said, I will succeed. And never at any time had she any real doubt that she would. Down, deep down, something told her that her time would come. So, though she flinched momentarily at each rejection, as from the flick of a whip, she sat down and wrote another story. Still, her inner voice had grown rather faint under so many discouragements.

Starting point is 08:59:37 The acceptance of the woman who spanked the king suddenly raised it into a joyous pain of certainty again. The check meant much, but the storming of that magazine much more. She felt that she was surely winning a foothold. Mr. Carpenter chuckled over it and told her it really was absolutely good. The best in this story belongs to Mistress McIntyre, said Emily ruefully. I can't call it mine. The setting is yours, and what you've added harmonizes perfectly with your foundation, and you didn't polish hers up too much. That shows the artist. Weren't you tempted to? Yes, there were so many places I thought I could improve it a good deal. But you didn't try to, that makes it yours, said Mr. Carpenter,

Starting point is 09:00:15 and left her to puzzle his meaning out for herself. Emily spent 35 of her dollars so sensibly that even Aunt Ruth herself couldn't find fault with her budget. But with the remaining five, she bought a set of Parkman. It was a much nicer set than the prize one, which the donor had really picked out of a mail order list, and Emily felt much prouder of it than if it had been the prize. After all, it was better to earn things for yourself.

Starting point is 09:00:40 Emily has those parkmen's yet, somewhat faded and frayed now, but dearer to her than all the other volumes in her library. For a few weeks, she was very happy and uplifted. The Murrays were proud of her. Principal Hardy had congratulated her. A local elocutionist of some repute had read her story at a concert in Charlottetown, and, most wonderful of all, a far-way reader in Mexico, had written her a letter telling her what pleasure the woman whose spank the king had given him. Emily read and re-read that letter

Starting point is 09:01:09 until she knew it off by heart and slept with it under her pillow. No lover's missive was ever more tenderly treated. Then the affair of the old John House came up like a thunder cloud and darkened all her cerulean sky. There was a concert and a pie social at Deripan one Friday night and Ilse had been asked to recite. Dr. Burnley took Ilsey and Emily and Perry and Teddy over in his big double-seated slay, and they had a gay and Mary eight miles drive through the soft snow that was beginning to fall. When the concert was half over, Dr. Burnley was summoned out. There was a sudden and serious illness in a Derry Pond household. The doctor went telling Teddy that he must drive the party home. Dr. Burnley made no bones about it. They might have silly rules about chaperone age in

Starting point is 09:01:51 Shrewsbury and Charlottetown, but in Blair Water and Derry Pond they did not obtain. Teddy and Perry were decent boys. Emily was a marie. Elsie was no fool. would have summed them up thus tersely if he had thought about it at all when the concert was over they left for home it was snowing very thickly now and the wind was rising rapidly but the first three miles of the road were through sheltering woods and were not unpleasant there was a wild weird beauty in the snow-coated banks of trees standing in the pale light of the moon behind the storm clouds the sleigh bales laughed at the shriek of the wind far overhead teddy managed the doctor's team without difficulty once or twice, Emily had a strong suspicion that he was using only one arm to drive them. She wondered if he had noticed that evening that she wore her hair really up for the first time in a soft ebon psyche knot under her crimson hat. Emily thought again that there was something quite delightful about a storm. But when they left the woods, their troubles began. The storm swooped down on them in all its fury. The winter road went through the fields and wound and twisted and doubled in

Starting point is 09:02:57 out in around corners in spruce groves, a road that would break a snake's back, as Perry said. The track was already almost obliterated with the drift, and the horses plunged to their knees. They had not gone a mile before Perry whistled in dismay. We'll never make Blairwater tonight, Ted. We've got to make somewhere, shouted Ted. We can't camp here, and there's no house till we get back to the summer road past Shaw's Hill. Duck under the robes, girls. You'd better get back with Ilsey, Emily, and Perry will come here with me.

Starting point is 09:03:27 The transfer was affected, and Emily no longer thinking storms quite so delightful. Perry and Teddy were both thoroughly alarmed. They knew the horses could not go much farther in that depth of snow. The summer road beyond Shaw's Hill would be blocked with drift, and it was bitterly cold on those high bleak hills between the valleys of Derry Pond and Blair Air Water. If we can only get to, Malcolm Shaw's will be all right, wondered Perry. We'll never get that far. Shaw's Hill is filled in by this time to the fence tops, said Teddy.

Starting point is 09:03:56 here's the old john house do you suppose we could stay here cold as a barn said perry the girls would freeze we must try to make malcolm when the plunging horses reached the summer road the boys saw at a glance that shaw's hill was a hopeless proposition all traces of track were obliterated by jiffs that were over the fence tops telephone posts were blown down crossed the road and a huge fallen tree blocked the gap where the field road ran out to it nothing to do but go back to the old john house said perry we can't go wandering over the fields and the teeth of this storm looking for a way through to malcolm's we'd get stuck and freeze to death teddy turned the horses the snow was thicker than ever every minute the drift deepened the track was entirely gone and if the old john house had been very far away they could never have found it fortunately it was near and after one last wild flounder through the unbroken drift around it during which the boys had to get out and scramble along on their own feet they reached the comparative calm of the little cleared space in the young spruce woods wherein stood the old john house The old John House had been old when 40 years before John Shaw had moved into it with his young bride. It had been a lonely spot even then, far back from the road, and almost surrounded by sprucewoods. John Shaw had lived there five years, then his wife died, he had sold the farm to his brother Malcolm and gone west. Malcolm farmed the land and kept the little barn in good repair, but the house had never been occupied since, save for a few weeks in winter, when Malcolm's boys camped there while they got out, their five weeks. It was not even locked. Tramps and burglars were unknown in Derry Pond.

Starting point is 09:05:31 Our castaways found easy entrance through the door of the tumble-down porch and drew a breath of relief to find themselves out of the shrieking wind and driving snow. We won't freeze anyhow, said Perry. Ted and I'll have to see if we can get the horses in the barn and then we'll come back and see if we can't make ourselves comfortable. I've got matches and have never been stumped yet. Perry met no great difficulties in making good his boast. His lighted match revealed a couple of half-burned candles in squat-tint candlesticks,

Starting point is 09:05:58 a cracked and rusty but still quite serviceable old Waterloo stove, three chairs, a bench, a sofa, and a table. What's the matter with this? demanded Perry. They'll be awfully worried about us at home, that's all, said Emily, shaking the snow off her wraps. Worry won't kill them in one night, said Perry. We'll get home tomorrow somehow. Meanwhile, this is an adventure, laughed Emily. Let's get all the fun out of it we can.

Starting point is 09:06:21 "'Elsey said nothing, which was very odd in Ilsey. "'Emily looking at her so that she was very pale "'and recall that she had been unusually quiet ever since they had left the hall. "'Aren't you feeling all right, Ilse?' she asked anxiously. "'I'm feeling all wrong,' said Ilsa, with a ghastly smile. "'I'm sick as a dog,' she added, with more force than elegance. "'Oh, Ilsa, don't hit the ceiling,' said Ilsa impatiently. "'I'm not beginning pneumonia or appendicitis.

Starting point is 09:06:48 "'I'm just plain sick. that pia head at the hall was too rich i suppose it's turned my little tummy upside down ow lie down on the sofa urged emily perhaps you'll feel better then ilsa shuddering an abject cast herself down a sick stomach is not a romantic ailment or a very deadly one but it certainly takes the ginger out of its victim for the time being the boys finding a box full of wood behind the stove soon had a roaring fire perry took one of the candles and explored the little house in a small room opening off the kitchen was an old old-fashioned wooden bedstead with a rope mattress. The other room, it had been Elmara Shaw's parlor in olden days, was half filled with old straw. Upstairs there was nothing but emptiness and dust. But in the little pantry, Perry made some fines. There's a can of pork and beans here, he announced, and a tin box half full of crackers. I see our breakfast. I suppose the Shaw boys left them here. And what's this? Perry brought out a small bottle, uncorked, and sniffed it solemnly. Whiskey, as I'm a living sinner. Not much, but he

Starting point is 09:07:49 here's your medicine ilsa you take it in some hot water and it'll sell your stomach in a jiffy i hate the taste of whisky moaned ilsa father never uses it he doesn't believe in it aunt tom does said perry as if that settled the matter it's a sure cure try it but there isn't any water said ilsa you'll have to take it straight then there's only about two tablespoons in the bottle try it it won't kill you if it doesn't cure you poor ilsa was really feeling so objectly wretched that she would have taken anything short of poison if she thought there was any chance of its helping her she crawled off the sofa sat down on a chair before the fire and swallowed the dose it was good strong whisky malcolm shaw could have told you that and i think there was really more than two tablespoonfulfuls in the bottle though Perry always insisted that there wasn't. Ilsa sat, huddled in her chair for a few minutes longer, then she got up and put her hand uncertainly on Emily's shoulder. Do you feel worse? asked Emily anxiously. I'm drunk, said Ilsa.

Starting point is 09:08:50 Help me back to the sofa for mercy's sake. My legs are going to double up under me. Who was the Scotchman up at Malvern, who said he never got junk, but the whiskey always sailed in his knees, but mine's in the head too. It's spinning around. Perry and Teddy both sprang up to help her, and between them a very wobbly Ilsa made safe port on the sofa again.

Starting point is 09:09:11 Is there anything we can do implored Emily? Too much has already been done, said Ilsa with preternatural solemnity. She shut her eyes and not another word would she say it responds to any entreaty. Finally, it was deemed best to let her alone. She'll sleep it off, and anyway, I guess it'll settle her stomach, said Perry. Emily could not take it so philosophically. Not until Ilsa's quiet breathing half an hour later, proved that she was really asleep, could Emily begin to taste the flavor of their adventure?

Starting point is 09:09:38 The wind threshed about the old house and rattled the windows as if in a fury over their escape from it. It was very pleasant to sit before the stove and listen to the wild melody of defeated storm. Very pleasant to think about the vanished life of this old dead house in the years when it had been full of love and laughter. Very pleasant to tuck of cabbages and kings with Perry and Teddy in the faint glow of candlelight. very pleasant to sit in occasional silences, staring into the firelight, which flickered alluringly over Emily's milk-white brow and haunting shadowy eyes. Once Emily, glancing up suddenly, found Teddy looking at her strangely. For just a moment their eyes met and locked.

Starting point is 09:10:17 Only a moment, yet Emily was never really to belong to herself again. She wondered dazedly what had happened. Whence came that wave of unimaginable sweetness that seemed to engulf her, body and spirit? She trembled. She was afraid. it seemed to open such dizzying possibilities of change the only clear idea that emerged from her confusion of thought was that she wanted to sit with teddy before a fire like this every night of their lives and then a fig for the storms she dared not look at teddy again but she thrilled with a delicious sense of his nearness she was acutely conscious of his tall boyish straightness his glossy black hair his luminous dark blue eyes she had always known she liked teddy better than any other male creature and her ken. But this was something apart from liking altogether, this sense of belonging to him

Starting point is 09:11:07 that had come in that significant exchange of glances. All at once, she seemed to know why she had always snubbed any of the high school boys who wanted to be her bow. The delight of the spell that had been suddenly laid on her was so intolerable that she must break it. She sprang up and went over to the window. The little hissing whisper of snow against the blue-white frost crystals on the pain seemed softly to scorn her bewilderment. The three big haystacks, thatched with snow dimly visible at the corner of the barn, seemed to be shaking their shoulders with laughter over her predicament. The fire in the stove reflected out in the clearing seemed like a mocking goblin bonfire under the firs. Beyond it, through the woods were unfathomable spaces of white storm.

Starting point is 09:11:51 For a moment Emily wished she were out in them. There would be freedom there from this fetter of terrible delight that had so suddenly and inexplicably made her a prisoner. her who hated bonds. Am I falling in love with Teddy? She thought. I won't. I won't. Perry, quite unconscious of all that had happened

Starting point is 09:12:09 in the wink of an eye to Teddy and Emily, yawned and stretched. Guess we'd better hit the hay. The candles are about done. I guess that straw will make a real good bed for us, Ted. Let's carry enough out and pile it on the bedstead in there to make a comfortable roost for the girls. With one of the fur rugs over it, it won't be so bad.

Starting point is 09:12:28 We ought to have some high old, tonight, Elsa especially, wonder if she's sober yet. I have a pocketful of dreams to sell, said Teddy whimsically, with a new, unaccountable gaiety of voice and manner. What do you lack? What do you lack? A dream of success, a dream of adventure, a dream of the sea, a dream of the woodland. Any kind of dream you want at reasonable prices, including one or two unique little

Starting point is 09:12:52 nightmares. What will you give me for a dream? Emily turned around, stared at him for a moment, then forgot thrills and spells. and everything else in a wild longing for a jimmy book as if his question what will he give me for a dream had been a magic formula opening some sealed chamber in her brain she saw unrolling before her a dazzling idea for a story complete even to the title a seller of dreams for the rest of that night emily thought of nothing else the boys went off to their straw couch and emily after deciding to leave ilsa who seemed comfortable on the sofa as long as she slept lay down on the bed in the small room but not to sleep she She had never felt less like sleeping. She did not want to sleep. She had forgotten that she had been falling in love with Teddy.

Starting point is 09:13:36 She had forgotten everything but her wonderful idea. Chapter by chapter, page by page, it unrolled itself before her in the darkness. Her characters lived and laughed and talked and did and enjoyed and suffered. She saw them on the background of the storm. Her cheeks burned, her heartbeat. She tingled from head to foot with a keen rapture of creation, A joy that sprang fountain-like from the depths of being and seemed independent of all earthly things. Ilsa had got drunk on Malcolm Shaw's forgotten Scotch whiskey, but Emily was intoxicated with immortal wine.

Starting point is 09:14:11 End of Chapter 20, recording by Ash 707. Chapter 21 of Emily Climes. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, all to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.combe. recording by Erjondul Aleksandropolo, Agrenian Greece. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery.

Starting point is 09:14:41 Chapter 21 Thicker than water Emily did not sleep until nearly morning. The storm had ceased and the landscape around the old John house had a spectral look in the light of the sinking moon when she finally drifted into slumber with a delightful sense of accomplishment. for she had finished thinking out her story.

Starting point is 09:15:07 Nothing remained now, except to jot its outlines down in her jellybook. She would not feel safe until she had them in black and white. She would not try to write it yet. Oh, not for years. She must wait until time and experience had made of her pen an instrument capable of doing justice to her conception, for it is one thing to pursue an idea through the ecstatic night, and quite another to get it down on paper in manner that will reproduce a tenth of its original charm and significance.

Starting point is 09:15:41 Emily was awakened by Ilse, who was sitting on the side of her bed, looking rather pale and seedy, but with amber eyes full of unconquerable laughter. Well, I've slept off my debauched, Emily Starr, and my tummy's all right this morning. Malcolm's whiskey did settle it, though I think the remedy is worse than the disease. I suppose you wondered why I wouldn't talk last night. I thought you were too drunk to talk, said Emily candidly. Ilse giggled. I was too drunk not to talk.

Starting point is 09:16:18 When I got to that sofa, Emily, my giddiness passed off, and I wanted to talk. Oh, golly, but I wanted to talk. and I wanted to say the silliest thing and tell everything I ever knew thought. I'd just enough sense left to know I mustn't say those things or I'd make a fool of myself forever. And I felt that if I said one word, it would be like taking a cork out of a bottle.

Starting point is 09:16:46 Everything would gurgle out. So I'd just button my mouth up and wouldn't say one word. It gives me a chill to think of the things I could have said, and before perry you'll never cut your little lillsy going on spree again i'm a reform character from this day forth what i can't understand said emily is how such a small dose of anything could have turned your head like that oh well you know mother was a mitchell it is a notorious fact that the mitchells can't take a teaspoonful of booze without toppling it's one of their family kings well rise up my love my fair one the boys are getting a fire on and perry says we can dope up a fair meal from the pork and beans and crackers i'm hungry enough to eat the cans it was while emily was rummaging in the pantry in search of some salt that she made a great discovery far back on the top shelf was a pile of dusty old books dating back probably to the days of john and almyra shaw old mildered diaries almanacs account books emily knocked the pile down when she was picking it up discovered

Starting point is 09:18:08 that one of the books was an old scrap-book a loose leaf had fallen out of it as emily replaced it her eyes fell on the title of a poem pasted on it she caught it up her breath coming quickly a legend of abeguade the poem with which everley had won the price here it was in this old yellowed scrap-book of twenty years vintage word for word except evelyn had cut out two verses to shorten it to the required length and the two best verses in it thought emily contemptuously how like evelyn she was simply no literary adjustment emily replaced the book on the shelf but she slipped the loose leaf into her pocket and had her share of breakfast very absently by this time men were on the roads breaking out the tracks perry and teddy found a shovel in the barn and soon had a way open to the road they got home finally after a slow but uneventful drive to find the new moon folks rather anxious as to their fate and mildly horrified to learn that they had had to spend the night in the old john house you might have caught your deaths of cold said elizabeth severely well it was hobson's choice it was was that or freeze to death in the drifts said emily and nothing more was said about the matter since they had got home safe and nobody had caught cold what more was there to say it was the new moon way of looking at it the shrewsbury way was somewhat different but the shrewsbury way did not become apparent immediately the whole story was over shrewsbury by monday night

Starting point is 09:20:08 Ilse told it in school and described her drunken orgy with great spirit and vivacity, amid shrieks of laughter from her classmates. Emily, who had called for the first time on Evelyn Blake that evening, found Evelyn looking quite well pleased over something. Can't you stop Elsie from telling that story, my dear? What story? Why, about getting drunk last Friday night? the night he spent with teddy kent and perry miller old house up at derry pond said evelyn smoothly emily suddenly flushed

Starting point is 09:20:51 there was something in evelyn stone the innocent fact seemed all at once to take on shades of a sinister significance was evelyn being deliberately insolent i don't know why she shouldn't tell the story said emily coldly it was a good joke on her but you know her people will talk said evelyn gently it is all rather unfortunate of course you couldn't help being caught in the storm i suppose but ilse will only make matters worse she is so indiscreet haven't you any influence over her emily I didn't come here to discuss that, said Emily bluntly. I came to show you something I found in the old John House. She held out the leaf of the scrapbook. Evelyn looked at it blankly for a moment. Then her face turned a curious, mottled purple.

Starting point is 09:21:58 She made an involuntary movement as if to snatch the paper, but Emily quickly drew it back. Their eyes met. In that moment, Emily felt that the scour between them was at last even. She waited for Evelyn to speak. After a moment, Evelyn did speak, sullenly. Well, what are you going to do about it? I haven't decided yet, said Emily. Evelyn's long, brown, treacherous eyes swept up to Emily's face, with a crafty seeking expression.

Starting point is 09:22:37 I suppose you mean to take it to Dr. Hardy and disgrace me before the school. Well, you deserve it, don't you? said Emily judiciously. I wanted to win that prize because father promised me a trip to Vancouver next summer if I won it, muttered Emily, suddenly crumbling. I was crazy to go. Oh, don't betray me, Emily. Father will be furious.

Starting point is 09:23:11 I'll give you the parkman, said. I'll do anything. Only don't. Evelyn began to cry. Emily didn't like the sight. I don't want your parkman, she said contemptuously. But there is one thing you must do. You will confess to one truth.

Starting point is 09:23:33 It was you who drew that mustache on my face the day of the English exam and not illsy. Evelyn wiped away her tears and swallowed something. That was only a joke, she sobbed. It was no joke to lie about it, said Emily Stanley. You're so blunt. Evelyn looked for a dry spot in her handkerchief and found one. It was all a joke. I just ran back from Shoppy to do it.

Starting point is 09:24:07 I thought, of course, you'd look in the glass when you got up. I didn't suppose you'd go to class like that, and I didn't know you ran took it so seriously. Of course, I'll tell her if you're... Write it out and sign it, said Emily remorselessly. Evelyn wrote it out and sign it. it. "'You'll give me that!' she pleaded, with an intriguing gesture towards the scrapbook leaf. "'Oh, no, I'll keep this,' said Emily.

Starting point is 09:24:46 "'And what assurance have I that you won't tell some day after all?' sniffed Evelyn. "'You have the word of a star,' said Emily, loftily. She went out with a smile. She had finally conquered in the long jewel. and she held in her hand what would finally clear Elsie in Aunt Ruth's eyes. Aunt Ruth sniffed a good deal over Evelyn's note and was inclined to ask questions as to how it had been extorted. But not getting much satisfaction out of Emily on this score

Starting point is 09:25:26 and knowing that Alan Burnley had been sore at here ever since her banishment of his daughter, she secretly welcomed an excuse to recall it. Very well, then. I told you, Ilsey, would come here when you would prove to my satisfaction that you had not played that trick on you. You have proved it, and I keep my word. I am a just woman, concluded, untruth,

Starting point is 09:25:53 who was perhaps the most unjust woman on the earth at that time. So far well, if Evelyn wanted reverend, French, she tasted it to the full in the next three weeks, without raising a finger or woggling a tang to secure it. All Shrewsbury burned with gossip about the night of the storm. Insinuations, distortions, wholesale fabrications. Emily was so snug at Janet Thompson's afternoon tea that she went home wide with humiliation. Elsie was furious. I wouldn't mind if I had been rip-roaring drunk and had the fun of it,

Starting point is 09:26:39 she vowed with a stamp of her foot. But I wasn't drunk enough to be happy, only just drunk enough to be silly. There are moments, Emily, when I feel that I could have a gorgeous time if I were a cat, and these old Shrewsbury dames were mice. But let's keep our smiles pinned on. I really don't care a snap for them. This will soon die out. We'll fight.

Starting point is 09:27:07 You can't fight assinuations, said Emily bitterly. Ilse did not care, but Emily cared horribly. The merry pride smarted unbearably, and it smarted worse and worse as time went on. A sneer at the night of the storm was published in a rag of the paper that was printed in a town on the mainland and made up of spicy notes sent to it from all over maritimes. Nobody ever confessed to reading it, but almost everybody knew everything was in it, except untruth who wouldn't have handled the sheet with the tongues.

Starting point is 09:27:49 No names were mentioned, but everyone knew who was referred to, and the venomous innuendo of the thing was unmistakable. Emily thought she would die of shame, and the worst thing was that it was so vulgar and dougly, and had made that beautiful night of laughter in revelation and rapturous creation in the old John House, vulgar and ugly. She had thought it would always be one of her most beautiful memories, and now this. Teddy and Perry saw red and wanted to kill somebody, but whom could they kill? as Emily told them, anything they said or did would only make the matter worse. It was bad enough after the publication of that paragraph.

Starting point is 09:28:36 Emily was not invited to Florence Black's dance the next week, the great social event of the winter. She was left out of Hadidanoos skating party. Several of the Shrewsbury matrons did not see her when they met her on the streets. Others set her a thousand miles away by bland, icy politeness. Some young men about town grew oddly familiar in look and manner. One of them, with whom she was totally unacquainted, spoke to her one evening in the post office. Emily turned and looked at him.

Starting point is 09:29:15 Crushed, humiliated as she was, she was still Archibald Murray's granddaughter. The wretched youth was three blocks away from the... post office before he came to himself and knew where he was to this day he has not forgotten how emily birds stars eyes looked when she was angry but even the merry look while it might demolish a concrete offender could not scotch scandalous stories everybody she felt morbidly believed them it was reported to her that miss percy of the library shed she had always destroyed trusted Emily Starr's smile. She had always felt sure it was deliberately provocative and alluring.

Starting point is 09:30:03 Emily felt that she, like poor King Henry, would never smile again. People remembered that old Nancy priest had been a wild thing 70 years ago, and hadn't there been some scandal

Starting point is 09:30:16 about Mrs. Dutton herself in her girlhood? What's bread in the bone, you understand? Her mother had eloped, hadn't she? And Elsie's mother? Of course, she had been killed by falling into the old Lee well, but who knew what she would have done if she hadn't?

Starting point is 09:30:39 Then there was that old story of baby on Blairwater's Sonshire or Naterelle. In short, you didn't see uncles like Emily's and proper girls. They simply didn't have them. Even harmless, unnecessary Andrew, has ceased to call on friday nights there was a sting in this emily thought andrew bore and dreaded his friday nights she had always meant to send him packing as soon as she gave her the opportunity but for andrew to go packing of his own accord had a very different flavour margu emily cleansed her hands when she thought of it a bitter report came to her ears that principal hardy had said she ought to resign from the presidency of the senior class emily threw up her head resign confess defeat and admit guilt not she i could knock that man's block off said ilse emily starr don't let yourself worry over this what does it matter would a lot of doddering old donkeys think i hereby devote them to the infernal guards they'll have their moors full of something else in a month and they'll forget this

Starting point is 09:31:57 i'll never forget it said emily passionately to my dying day i'll remember the humiliation of these weeks and now we'll see mrs tolliver has written asking me to give up my stall at the st john's bazaar emily starr she hasn't she has oh of course she cloaks it under an excuse that she's like a store for her cousin from new york who is visiting her but i understand and it's dear miss taugh look you when it was dearest emily a few weeks ago everybody in st john's will know why i've been asked to step out and she almost went on her knees to aunt ruth to let me take the store aunt ruth didn't want to let me what will your aunt ruth say about this oh that's the worst of it illsy she'll have to know now she's never heard a word of this since she's been laid up with her sciatica i've lived in dread of her finding out for i know it will be hideous when she does she's getting about now so of course she'll soon hear it anyway and i haven't the spirit to stand up to her ill see oh it all seems like a nightmare they've got such mean narrow malicious beastly little minds in this town, said Ilse, and was straight away comforted. But Emily could not ease her tortured spirit by a choice assortment of adjectives.

Starting point is 09:33:36 Neither could she write out her misery and so rid herself of it. There were no more jottings in her Jimmy book, no further entries in her journal, no new stories or poems. The flash never came now, never would come again. there would never again be wonderful little secret ruptures of insight and creation which no one could share life had grown thin and poor tarnished and unlovely there was no beauty in anything not even in the golden white march solitudes of the new moon when she went home for the weekend she had long to go home there were no one believed ill of her no one at new moon had heard anything of what was being whispered in shrewsbury but their very ignorance tortured emily soon they would know they would be hurt and grieved over the fact that what a murray even an innocent marais had become a target for scandal and who knew how they would regard ilse's mishap with cap malcolm's scotch emily felt it almost a relief to go back to shrewsbury

Starting point is 09:34:56 she imagined slurs in everything the principal hardy said covert insults in every remark or look of her schoolmates only evelyn blake posed as friend and defender and this was the most unkindest cut of all whether alarm or malice was behind evelyn's pose emily did not know but she did know that evelyn's parade of friendship and loyalty and staunch belief in the face of overwhelming evidence was something that seemed to smirge her more than all the gossip could evelyn went about assuring every one that she wouldn't believe one word against poor dear emily poor dear emily could have cheerfully watched her drown who thought she could meanwhile aunt ruth who had been confined to her house for several weeks with sciatica and had been so crusty with it that neither friends nor enemies had dared to hint anything to her of the gossip concerning her niece was beginning to her to take notice. Her sciatica had departed and left her faculties free to concentrate on other things. She recalled that Emily's appetite had been poor for days and untruth suspected that she had not been sleeping. The moment this suspicion occurred to untruth, she took action. Secret worries were not to be tolerated in her house.

Starting point is 09:36:32 "'Emily, I want to know what is the matter with you,' she demanded one Saturday afternoon when Emily, pale and listless, with purple smudges under her eyes, had hidden next to nothing for dinner. A little colour came into Emily's face. The hour she had dreaded soul was upon her. Aunt Ruth must be told all. And Emily felt miserably that she had neither the courage to endure the resultant heckling nor the spirit to hold her own against auntruth's wise and wherefores. She knew so well how it would all be. Horror over the John House episode, as if anybody could have helped it, annoyance over the gossip as a family were responsible for it.

Starting point is 09:37:23 Several assurances that she had always expected something like this. And then, in terrible weeks of reminders and slugher. hers. Emily felt a sort of mental nausea at the whole prospect. For a minute, she could not speak. What have you been doing? persisted Aunt Ruth. Emily set her teeth. It was unendurable, but it must be endured. The story had to be told. The only thing to do was to get it told as soon as possible. I haven't done anything wrong, Aunt Ruth. I've just done something that has been misunderstood. Aunt Ruth sniffed, but she listened without interruption to Emily's story.

Starting point is 09:38:14 Emily told it as briefly as possible, feeling as if she were a criminal in the witness box with Aunt Ruth as judge, jury and persecuting attorney all in one. When she had finished, she sat in silence, waiting for some current. characteristic Aunt Ruthian comment. And what are they making all the fuss about? said Aunt Ruth. Emily, didn't know exactly what to say.

Starting point is 09:38:42 She stared at Aunt Ruth. They're thinking and saying all sorts of horrible things, she faltered. You see, down here in Sheltered Shrewsbury, they didn't realize what a storm it was. and then, of course, everyone who repeated the story, coloured it a little. We were all drunk by the time it filtered through Shrewsbury. What exasperates me, said an untruth, is to think you told about it in Shrewsbury at all. Why on earth didn't you keep it all quiet?

Starting point is 09:39:22 That would have been sly, Emily's demon suddenly prompted her to say this. now that the story was out she felt a rebound of spirit that was almost laughter sly it would have been common sense snorted and truth but of course elsie couldn't hold her tongue i've often told you emily what a fool friend is ten times more dangerous than an enemy but what are you killing yourself worrying for your conscience is clear. This gossip will soon die out. Principal Hardy says, I ought to resign from the presidency of the class, said Emily. Jim Hardy? Why, his father was a hired boy to my grandfather for years, said Andruth in tones of ineffable contempt. Does Jim Hardy imagine that my niece would behave improperly? Emily felt herself all at sea.

Starting point is 09:40:28 She thought she really must be dreaming. Was this incredible woman, untruth? It couldn't be untruth. Emily was up against one of the contradictions of human nature. She was learning that you may fight with your kin, disapprove them, even hate them, but that there is a bond between you for all that. somehow your very nerves and sinews are twisted with theirs blood is always thicker than water let an outsider attack that's all

Starting point is 09:41:04 aunt ruth had at least one of the marys virtues loyalty to clan don't worry over jim hardy said and ruth i'll soon settle him i'll teach people to give their tongues off the marys but mrs tolliver has asked me to let me her cousin take my stall in the bazaar said emily you know what that means i know that polly tulliver is an upstart and a fool retorted aunt since nat tolliver married his stenographer ston john's church hasn't been the same place ten years ago she was a barefooted girl running round the back streets of charlottetown the cats themselves would have brought her in now she puts on the ears of a queen and tries to run the church i'll soon clip her clothes she was pretty thankful a few weeks ago to have a mare in her store it was a rise in the world for her polly tulliver for sooth what is this word coming to the Aunt Ruth sailed upstairs, living at days damelly, looking at vanishing bogies. Aunt Ruth came down again, ready for the warpath. She had taken out her crimps, put on her best bonnet, her best black silk, and her new seal-skin coat.

Starting point is 09:42:37 Thus arrayed, she skimmed up down to the Tolliver residence on the hill. She remained there half an hour, closeted with Mrs. Naktou. Oliver. The Aunt Ruth was a short, fat little woman, looking very dowdy and old-fashioned in spite of her new bonnet and seal-skin coat. Mrs. Nat was the last word in fashion and elegance, with her Paris gown, her lord net, and her beautifully marcelled hair. Marcells were just coming in then, and Mrs. Nats was the first in Shrewsbury.

Starting point is 09:43:13 But the victory of the encounter did not. not perch on Mrs. Tolliver's standard. Nobody knows just what was said at that notable interview. Certainly, Mrs. Tolliver never told. But when Untruth left the big house, Mrs. Tolliver was crushing her Paris gown and her Marcell waves among the cushions of her Davenport, while she wept tears of rage and humiliation. An untruth carried a note in her muff to Mrs. Oliver's dear Emily, saying that her cousin was not going to take part of the bazaar, and would, dear Emily, be so kind as to take Stollah's first plan? Dr. Hardy was next interviewed, and again, Aunt Ruth went, saw, conquered.

Starting point is 09:44:05 The maid in the Hardy household heard and reported one sentence of the confab, though nobody ever believed that Aunt Ruth really said to stately spectacle Dr. Hardy. I know you're a fool, Jim Hardy, but for heaven's sake, pretend you're not for five minutes. No, the thing was impossible. Of course, the maid invented it. You won't have much more trouble, Emily, said Unruve and her return home. Polly and Jim have got their claws full. When people see you at the bazaar, they'll soon realize what way the wind blows and trim their sense. accordingly i've have few things to say to some other folks when opportunity offers matters have come to a pretty pass if decent boys and girls can't escape freezing to death without being slandered for it don't you give this thing another thought emily remember you've got a family behind you emily went to her glass when aunt ruth had gone downstairs she tilted it at the proper angle and

Starting point is 09:45:16 and smiled at Emily in the glass, smiled slowly, provocatively, alluringly. I wonder where I put my jimmy book, thought Emily. I must add a few more touches to my sketch of untruth. End of chapter 21. Recording by Hondula Alexandropulu, Agrinion, Greece. Chapter 22 of Emily Climes. This is a Libra Vox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain.

Starting point is 09:45:53 For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by T.R. Love, Pleasant Hill, California. Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Chapter 22, Love Me, Love My Dog. When Shrewsbury people discovered that Mrs. Dutton was backing her niece, the flame of gossip that had swept over the town died down in an incredibly short time. Mrs. Dutton gave more to the various funds of St. John's Church than any other member. It was a Murray tradition to support your church becomingly.

Starting point is 09:46:34 Mrs. Dutton had led money to half the businessman in town. She held Natt Tolliver's note for an amount that kept him wakeful of nights. Mrs. Dutton had a disconcerting knowledge of family skeletons, to which she had no delicacy in referring. Therefore, Mrs. Dutton was a person to be kept in good humor, and if people had made the mistake of supposing that because she was very strict with her niece, it was safe to snub that niece. Why, the sooner they corrected that mistake, the better for all concerned. Emily sold baby jackets and blankets and booties and bonnets in Mrs. Tolliver's stall at the big bazaar and wheed elderly gentlemen into buying them with her now famous smile. Everybody was nice to her and she was happy again, though the experience had left a scar. Shrewsbury folks in after years said that Emily Starr had never really forgiven them for having talked about her.

Starting point is 09:47:41 and added that the Murray's never did forgive, you know. But forgiveness did not enter into the matter. Emily had suffered so horribly that henceforth, the sight of anyone who had been connected with her suffering was hateful to her. When Mrs. Tolliver asked her a week later to pour tea at the reception she was giving her cousin, Emily declined politely without troubling herself to give any excuse. and something in the tilt of her chin or the level glance of her eyes made Mrs. Tolliver feel to her marrow that she was still Polly Reardon of Reardon Alley and would never be anybody else in the sight of a Murray of New Moon.

Starting point is 09:48:29 But Andrew was welcomed quite sweetly when he somewhat sheepishly called the following Friday night. It may be that he felt a little doubtful of his reception, in spite of the fact that he was sealed of the tribe. But Emily was markedly gracious to him. Perhaps she had her own reasons for it. Again, I call attention to the fact that I am Emily's biographer, not her apologist. If she took a way to get even with Andrew, which I may not approve, what can I do but deplore it? For my own satisfaction, however, I may remark in passing that I do think Emily went too far.

Starting point is 09:49:10 when she told to Andrew, after his report of some compliments, his manager had paid him, that he was certainly a wonder. I cannot even excuse her by saying that she spoke in sarcastic tones. She did not. She said it most sweetly, and with an upward glance, followed by a downward one, that made even Andrew's well-regulated heart skip a beat. Oh, Emily, Emily! Things went well with Emily that spring. She had several acquaintances and checks and was beginning to plume herself on being quite a literary person. Her clan began to take her scribbling mania somewhat seriously.

Starting point is 09:49:55 Checks were unanswerable things. Emily has made $50 by her pen since New Year's, Aunt Ruth told Mrs. Drury, I begin to think the child has an easy way of making a living. An easy way, Emily overhearing this as she went through the hall, smiled and sighed. What did Aunt Ruth, what did anyone know of the disappointments and failures of the climbers on alpine paths? What did she know of the despairs and agonies of one who sees but cannot reach? What does she know of the bitterness of one who conceives a wonderful tale and writes it down only to find a flat and flavor?

Starting point is 09:50:38 list manuscript as a reward for all her toil. What did she know of barred doors and impregnable editorial sanctums? Of brutal rejection slips and the awfulness of faint praise, of hopes deferred, and hours of sickening doubt and self-distrust? Aunt Ruth knew none of these things, but she took to having fits of indignation when Emily's manuscripts were returned. Impudence, I call it, she said. Don't send that editor another line. Remember, you're a Murray. I'm afraid he doesn't know that, said Emily gravely. Then why don't you tell him, said Aunt Ruth. Shrewsbury had a mild sensation in May when Janet Royal came home from New York with her wonderful dresses, her brilliant reputation, and her chow dog. Janet was a Shrewsbury girl, but she had never been home since she had

Starting point is 09:51:37 had gone to the states 20 years ago. She was clever and ambitious, and she had succeeded. She was the literary editor of a big metropolitan woman's magazine and one of the readers for a noted publishing house. Emily held her breath when she heard of Miss Royal's arrival. Oh, if she could only see her, have a talk with her, ask her about a hundred things she wanted to know. When Mr. Towers told her in an offhand manner to go and interview Miss Royal and write it up for the times, Emily trembled between terror and delight. Here was her excuse. But could she? Had she assurance enough? Wouldn't Miss Royal think her unbearably presumptuous? How could she ask Miss Royal questions about her career and her opinion of the United States foreign policy and reciprocity?

Starting point is 09:52:37 she could never have the courage we both worship at the same altar but she is high priestess and i am only the humblest acolyte wrote emily in her journal then she indicted a very worshipful letter to miss royal and rewrote it a dozen times asking permission to interview her after she had mailed it she could not sleep all night because it occurred to her that she should have signed herself your Yours truly, instead of yours sincerely. Yours sincerely smacked of an acquaintanceship that did not exist. Miss Royal would surely think her presuming. But Miss Royal sent back a charming letter. Emily has it to this day. Ashburn, Monday. Dear Miss Star, of course you may come and see me, and I'll tell you everything you want to know. for Jimmy Towers, God rest his soul, and wasn't he my first bow, and everything you want to know for yourself. I think half my reason for coming back to P.E.I. this spring was because I wanted to see the writer of the woman who spanked the king. I read it last winter when it came out in Rochets, and I thought it charming. Come and tell me all about yourself and your ambitions.

Starting point is 09:54:00 You are ambitious, aren't you? And I think you're going to be able to realize your ambitions, too. And I want to help you if I can. You've got something I never had, real creative ability. But I've heaps of experience, and what I've learned from it is yours for the asking. I can help you avoid some snares and bitfalls, and I'm not without a bit of pull in certain quarters. Come to Ashburn next Friday afternoon when school's out,

Starting point is 09:54:31 and we'll have a heart-to-heart powwow. Yours fraternally, Janet Royal. Emily, thrilled to the ends of her toes when she read this letter. Yours fraternally, oh, heavenly. She knelt at her window and looked out with enraptured eyes into the slender furs of the land of a brightness and the dewy young cloverfields beyond. Oh, was it possible that someday she would be a brilliant, successful woman

Starting point is 09:55:01 like Miss Royal? That letter made it seem possible, made every wonderful dream seem possible, and on Friday four more days, she was going to see and talk intimately with her high priestess. Mrs. Angela Royal, who called to see Aunt Ruth that evening, didn't exactly seem to think Janet Royal, a high priestess or a wonder, but then, of course, a prophetess is apt to have to have. scant honor in her own country and mrs royal had brought janet up i don't say but what she's got on well she confided to aunt ruth she gets a big salary but she's an old maid for all that and as odd in some ways as dick's hatband emily studying latin in the bay window went on fire with indignation this was nothing short of lyzais megeste she's very fine looking yet, said Aunt Ruth. Janet was always a nice girl. Oh yes, she's nice enough, but I was always afraid she was too clever to get married, and I was right. And she's full of

Starting point is 09:56:17 foreign notions. She's never on time for her meals, and it really makes me sick, the fuss she makes over that dog of hers. Chu Chin, she calls it. He rules the house. He does exactly as he likes, and nobody dare say a word. My poor cat can't call her soul her own. Janet is so touchy about him. When I complained about him sleeping on the plushed Davenport, she was so vexed she wouldn't speak for a day. That's a thing I don't like about, Janet.

Starting point is 09:56:50 She gets so high and mighty when she's offended. And she gets offended at things nobody else would dream of minding. And when she's offended with one, She's offended with everybody. I hope nothing will upset her before you come on Friday, Emily. If she's out of humor, she'll visit it on you. But I will say for her that she doesn't often get vexed, and there's nothing mean or grudging about her.

Starting point is 09:57:18 She'd work her fingers to the bone to serve a friend. When Aunt Ruth had gone out to interview the grocer's boy, Mrs. Royal added hurriedly, She's greatly interested in you, Emily. She's always fond of having pretty, fresh girls about her. Says it keeps her feeling young. She thinks your work shows real talent. If she takes a fancy to you, it would be a great thing for you.

Starting point is 09:57:44 But for pity's sake, keep on good terms with that chow. If you offend him, Janet won't have anything to do with you, supposing you were Shakespeare himself. Emily awoke Friday morning with the conviction that this was to be one of the crucial days of her life, a day of dazzling possibilities. She had had a terrible dream of sitting spellbound before Miss Royal unable to utter one word except Choo Chin, which he repeated parrot-like whenever Miss Royal asked her a question. It poured rain all the forenoon, much to her dismay. at noon it cleared up brilliantly and the hills across the harbor scarfed themselves in fairy blue. Emily hurried home from school, pale with the solemnity of the occasion. Her twilight was an

Starting point is 09:58:41 important right. She must wear her new navy blue silk. No question about that. It was positively long and made her look fully grown up. But how should she do her hair? The psyche knot had more distinction, suited her profile, and showed to better advantage under her hat. Besides, perhaps, a bare forehead made her look more intellectual. But Mrs. Royal had said that Miss Royal liked pretty girls. Pretty, therefore, she must be at all costs. The rich black hair was dressed low on her forehead, and crowned by the New Spring hat which Emily had dared buy with her latest check.

Starting point is 09:59:26 in spite of Anne Elizabeth's disapproval and Aunt Ruth's unvarnished statement that a fool and her money were soon parted. But Emily was glad now she had bought the hat. She couldn't have gone to interview Miss Royal in her plain black sailor. This hat was very becoming, with its cascade of purple violets that fell from it over the lovely unbroken waves of hair, just touching the milk whiteness of her neck. everything about her was exquisitely neat and dainty she looked i liked the old phrase as if she had just stepped from a bandbox aunt ruth prowling about the hall saw her coming downstairs and realized with something of a shock that emily was a young woman she carries herself like a murray thought aunt ruth the force of condemnation could no further go though it was really from the stars that Emily had inherited her slim elegance.

Starting point is 10:00:32 The Murrays were stately indignified, but stiff. It was quite a little walk to Ashburn, which was a fine old white house, set far back from the street amid great trees. Emily went up the gravel walk, edged with its fine fringe shadows of spring, as a worshipper approaching a sacred fame. a fairly large, fluffy white dog was sitting halfway up the gravel walk. Emily looked at him curiously. She had never seen a chow dog. She decided that Chu Chin was handsome, but not clean. He had evidently been having a glorious time in some mud puddle, for his paws and breast were

Starting point is 10:01:18 reeking. Emily hoped he would approve of her, but keep his distance. Evidently, he approved of her, for he turned and trotted up the walk with her, amiably waving a plummy tail, or rather a tail that would have been plummy, had it not been wet and muddy. He stood expectantly beside her while she rang the bell, and as soon as the door was open,

Starting point is 10:01:45 he made a joyous bound on the lady who stood within, almost knocking her over. Miss Royal had opened the door. She had, as Emily saw it, at once no beauty, but unmistakable distinction from the crown of her gold bronze hair to the toes of her satin slippers. She was arrayed in some marvelous dress of mauve velvet, and she wore pin's knees with tortoiseshell rims, the first of their kind to be seen in Shrewsbury. Chuchin gave one rapturous, slobbery wipe at her face with his tongue, then rushed on into Mrs. Royal's parlor.

Starting point is 10:02:26 The beautiful mauve dress was spotted from collar to hem with muddy palm marks. Emily thought that Chu Chin fully deserved Mrs. Royal's bad opinion and mentally remarked that if he were her dog, he should behave better. But Miss Royal did not reprove him in any way, and perhaps Emily's secret criticism was subconsciously prompted by her instant perception that Miss Royal's greeting, while perfect. courteous was very cold. From her letter, Emily had somehow expected a warmer reception. Won't you come in and sit down, said Miss Royal? She ushered Emily in, waved to a comfortable chair, and sat down on a stiff and uncompromising Chippendale one. Somehow, Emily, sensitive at all times, and abnormally so just now, felt that Miss Royal's selection. of a chair was ominous.

Starting point is 10:03:28 Why hadn't she sunk chumily into the depth of the big velvet Morris? But there she sat, a stately, aloof figure, having apparently paid not the slightest attention to the appalling mudstains on her beautiful dress.

Starting point is 10:03:45 Chu Chen had jumped on the big plush-davonport, where he sat cockily looking from one to the other as if enjoying the situation. It was all too evident that as Mrs. Royal had foreboded, something had upset Miss Royal, and Emily's heart suddenly sank like lead. It's a lovely day, she faltered. She knew it was an incredibly stupid thing to say,

Starting point is 10:04:12 but she had to say something when Miss Royal wouldn't say anything. The silence was too awful. Very lovely, agreed Miss Royal, not looking at Emily at all, but at Chu Chin. who was thumping a beautiful silk and lace cushion of Mrs. Royals with his wet tail. Emily hated Chu Chin. It was a relief to hate him, since as yet she did not dare to hate Miss Royal, but she wished herself a thousand miles away. Oh, if she only hadn't that little bundle of manuscripts on her lap, it was so evident what it was. She would never dare to show one of them to Miss Royal. Was this outraged Empress the writer of that kind, friendly letter? It was impossible to believe it.

Starting point is 10:05:05 This must be a nightmare. Her dream was out with a vengeance. She felt crude and bread and buttery and ignorant and dowdy and young. Oh, so horribly young. The moments passed, not so very many, perhaps, but seeming like hours to Emily. Her mouth was dry and parched, her brain paralyzed. She couldn't think of a solitary thing to say. A horrible suspicion flashed across her mind that,

Starting point is 10:05:37 since writing her letter, Miss Royal had heard the gossip about the night in the old John house and that her altered attitude was the result. In her misery, Emily squirmed in her chair and her little packet of manuscripts slipped to the floor. Emily stooped to retrieve it. At the same moment, Chu Chin made a flying leap from the Davenport at it. His muddy paws caught the spray of violets, hanging from Emily's hat and tore it loose.

Starting point is 10:06:08 Emily let go of her packet and clutched her hat. Chu Chin let go of the violets and pounced on the packet. Then holding that in his mouth, he bolted out of the open glass door leading to the garden. Oh, what a relief it would be to tear my hair. thought Emily violently. That diabolical chow had carried off her latest and best story and a number of choice poems. Heaven knew what he would do with them. She supposed she would never see them again, but at least there was fortunately now no question of showing them to Miss Royal. Emily no longer

Starting point is 10:06:46 cared whether Miss Royal was in a bad humor or not. She was no longer desirous of pleasing her. A woman who would let her dog behave like that to an invited guest and never reprove him? Nay, she even seemed to be amused at his antics. Emily was sure she had detected a fleeting smile on Miss Royal's arrogant face as she looked at the ruined violet scattered over the floor. There suddenly popped into Emily's mind a story she had heard of Lofty John's father, who was in the habit of telling his wife, When people do be after snubbing you, Bridget, pull up your lip, Bridget, pull up your lip. Emily pulled up her lip.

Starting point is 10:07:32 A very playful dog, she said sarcastically. Very, agreed Miss Royal, composedly. Don't you think a little discipline would improve him? asked Emily. No, I do not think so, said Miss Royal meditatively. Choo Chin returned at this moment. moment, capered into the room, knocked a small glass face off a tabaret with a whisk of his tail, sniffed the ensuing fragments, then bounded up on the Davenport again where he sat panting, Oh, what a good dog am I?

Starting point is 10:08:09 Emily picked up her notebook and pencil. Mr. Towers sent me to interview you, she said. So I understand, said Miss Royal, never taking her eyes off her worshipped chow. Emily, may I trouble you to answer a few questions? Miss Royal, with exaggerated amiability, charmed. Chu Chen, having saved enough breath, springs from the Davenport and rushes through the half-open folding doors of the dining room. Emily, consulting notebook and recklessly asking the first question jotted down therein, what do you think will result of the presidential election this fall?

Starting point is 10:08:51 Miss Royal, I never think about it. Emily, with compressed lips, writes down in her notebook, She never thinks about it. Chew Chen reappears, darts through parlor and out into the garden, carrying a roast chicken in his mouth. Miss Royal, there goes my supper. Emily, checking off first question, Is there any likelihood that the United States Congress will look favorably

Starting point is 10:09:21 on the recent reciprocity proposals of the Canadian government? Miss Royal, is the Canadian government making reciprocity proposals? I never heard of them. Emily writes, she never heard of them. Miss Royal refits her pinesnais. Emily thinks, with a chin and a nose like that, you'll look very witch-like when you grow old, says,

Starting point is 10:09:48 Is it your opinion that the historical news, novel has had its day? Miss Royal languidly. I always leave my opinions at home when I take a holiday. Emily writes, she always leaves her opinions home when she takes a holiday. And wishes savagely she could write her own description of this interview, but knows Mr. Tower wouldn't print it. Then consoles herself by remembering that she has a virgin Jimmy book at home and takes a wicked delight in thinking of the account that will be written in it that night. Chechin enters. Emily wonders if he could have eaten the chicken in that short time. Chew Chen, evidently feeling the need of some dessert,

Starting point is 10:10:34 helps himself to one of Mrs. Royal's crocheted tidies, crawls under the piano with it, and falls to chewing rapturously. Miss Royal fervently, Dear dog, Emily suddenly inspired, What do you think of chow dogs? Miss Royal, the most adorable creatures in the world. Emily, to herself, so you've brought one opinion with you. To Miss Royal, I do not admire them.

Starting point is 10:11:06 Miss Royal with an icy smile, it is evident that your taste in dogs must be quite different from mine. Emily to herself, I wish Ilsa were here to call you names for me. A large motherly gray cat passes across the doorstep outside. Choo Chin bolts out from under the piano, shoots between the legs of a tall plant stand, and pursues the flying cat. The plant stand has gone over with a crash, and Mrs. Royall's beautiful Rex Begonia lies in ruin on the the floor amid a heap of earth and broken pottery. Miss Royal, unsympathetically,

Starting point is 10:11:50 poor Aunt Angela, her heart will be broken, Emily. But that doesn't matter, does it? Miss Royal gently. Oh, no, not at all. Emily, consulting notebook, do you find many changes in Shrewsbury? Miss Royal, I find a good many changes in the people. the younger generation does not impress me favorably.

Starting point is 10:12:16 Emily writes this down. Chuchin again reappears, evidently having chased the cat through a fresh mud puddle and resumes his repast of the tidy under the piano. Emily shut her notebook in rows. Not for any number of Mr. Towers would she prolong this interview. She looked like a young angel, but she was thinking terrible things, and she hated Miss Royal. Oh, how she hated her. Thank you. That will be all, she said, with a haughtiness quite equal to Miss Royals. I'm sorry to have taken so much of your time. Good afternoon. She bowed slightly and went out to the hall. Miss Royal followed her to the parlor door. Hadn't you better take your dog, Miss Starr? she asked sweetly. Emily paused in the act of shutting the outer door and looked at Miss Royal.

Starting point is 10:13:10 "'Pardon me?' "'I said, "'Hadn't you better take your dog? "'My dog?' "'Yes, he hasn't quite finished the tidy, to be sure, "'but you might take it along. "'It won't be much good to Aunt Angela now.' "'He...

Starting point is 10:13:26 "'He isn't my dog?' gasped Emily. "'Not your dog? "'Whose dog is he then?' said Miss Royal. "'I thought he was yours. "'Your chow,' said Emily. End of Chapter 22. Miss Royal looked at Emily for a moment, then she seized her wrist, shut the door, drew her back to the parlor, and firmly pushed her down into the Morris chair.

Starting point is 10:14:24 This done, Miss Royal threw herself on the muddy Davenport and began to laugh, long and helplessly. Once or twice she rocked herself forward, gave Emily's knee two wild wax, then rocked back and continued to laugh. Emily sat smiling faintly. Her feelings had been too deeply harrowed to permit of Miss Royal's convulsions of mirth, but already there was glimmering in her mind a sketch for her Jimmy book. Meanwhile, the white dog, having chewed the tidy to tatters,

Starting point is 10:14:54 spied the cat again and again rushed after her. Finally Miss Royal sat erect and wiped her eyes. Oh, this is priceless, Emily Bird Star, priceless. When I'm 80, I'll recall this and howl over it. Who will write it up, you or I? But who does own that brute? I'm sure I don't know, said Emily demurely. I never saw him in my life before.

Starting point is 10:15:17 Well, let's shut the door before he can return. And now, dear thing, sit here beside me. There's one clean spot here under the cushion. We're going to have our real talk now. Oh, I was so beastly to you when you were trying to ask me questions. I was trying to be beastly. Why didn't you throw something at me, you poor insulted darling? I wanted to, but now I think you let me off very easily,

Starting point is 10:15:41 considering the behavior of my supposed dog. Royal went off in another convulsion. I don't know if I can forgive you for thinking that horrid, curly white creature was my glorious red-gold chow. I'll take you up to my room before you go, and you shall apologize to him. He's asleep on my bed. I locked him there to relieve dear Aunt Angela's mind about her cat. Chuchin wouldn't hurt the cat. He merely wants to play with her, and the foolish old thing runs. Now, you know, when a cat runs, a dog simply can't help chasing her. As Kipling tells us, he wouldn't be a proper dog if he didn't. If only that white fiend had confined himself to chasing the cat.

Starting point is 10:16:20 It's too bad about Mrs. Royal's begonia, said Emily, regretfully. Yes, that is a pity. Aunt Angela's had it for years. But I'll get her a new one. When I saw you coming up the walk with that dog frisking around you, of course I concluded he was yours. I had put on my favorite dress because it really makes me look almost beautiful,

Starting point is 10:16:40 and I wanted you to love me. And when the beast muddied it all over, and you never said a word of rebuke or apology, I simply went into one of my cold rages. I do go into them. I can't help it. It's one of my little faults, but I soon thaw out if no fresh aggravation occurs.

Starting point is 10:16:58 In this case, fresh aggravation occurred every minute. I vowed to myself that if you did not even try to make your dog behave, I would not suggest that you should. And I suppose you were indignant because I calmly let my dog spoil your violets and eat your manuscripts. I was. It's too bad about the manuscripts. Perhaps we can find them. He can't really have swallowed them, but I suppose he has chewed them to bits. It doesn't matter. I have other copies at home. And your questions, Emily, you were too delicious. Did you really write down

Starting point is 10:17:31 my answers? Word for word. I meant to print them just so, too. Mr. Towers had given me a list of questions for you, but of course I didn't mean to fire them off point blank like that. I meant to weave them artfully into our conversation as we went along. But here comes Mrs. Royal. Mrs. Royal came in, smiling. Her face changed as she saw the begonia. But Miss Royal interposed quickly. Dearest Auntie, don't weep or faint. At least not before you've told me, who around here owns a white, curly, utterly mannerless, devilish dog. Lily Bates, said Mrs. Royal in a tone of despair. Oh, has she let that creature out again? I had a most terrible time with her. I had a most terrible time with him before you came. He's really just a big puppy, and he can't behave. I told her, finally,

Starting point is 10:18:19 if I caught him over here again, I'd poison him. She's kept him shut up since then, but now, oh, my lovely Rex. Well, this dog came in with Emily. I supposed he was her dog. Courtesy to a guest implies courtesy to her dog. Isn't there an old proverb that expresses it more concisely? He embraced me fervently upon his entrance, as my dearest dress testifies. He marked up your Davenport, he tore off Emily's violets, he chased your cat, he overturned your bologna, he broke your vase, he ran off with our chicken. I groan, and Angela, he did. And yet I, determinedly composed and courteous, said not a word of protest. I vow my behavior was worthy of New Moon itself. Wasn't it, Emily? You were just too mad to speak, said Mrs. Royal

Starting point is 10:19:07 ruefully, fingering her wrecked begonia. Miss Royal stole a sly glance at Emily. You see, I can't put anything over on Aunt Angela. She knows me too well. I admit I was not my usual charming self. But, Auntie, darling, I'll get you a new vase and a new begonia. Think of all the fun you'll have, coaxing it along. Anticipation is always so much more interesting than realization. I'll settle Lily Bates, said Mrs. Royal, going out of the room to look for a dustpan. Now, dear thing, let's gap, said Miss Royal, snuggling down beside Emily. This was the Miss Royal of the letter. Emily found no difficulty in talking to her.

Starting point is 10:19:48 They had a jolly hour, and at the end of it, Miss Royal made a proposition that took away Emily's breath. Emily, I want you to come back to New York with me in July. There's a vacancy on the staff of the lady's own. No great thing in itself. You'll be sort of general handyman, and all odd jobs will be turned over to you, but you'll have a chance to work up,

Starting point is 10:20:09 and you'll be in the center of things. You can write. I realized that the moment I read, the woman who spank the king. I know the editor of Roches, and I found out who you were and where you lived. That's really why I came down this spring. I wanted to get a hold of you. You mustn't waste your life here. It would be a crime.

Starting point is 10:20:29 Oh, of course I know. New Moon is a dear, quaint, lovely spot, full of poetry and steeped in romance. It was just the place for you to spend your childhood in. But you must have a chance to grow and develop and be yourself. You must have the stimulus of association with great minds, the training that only a great city can give. Come with me. If you do, I promise you that in ten years' time, Emily Bird Star will be a name to conjure with among the magazines of America. Emily sat in a maze of bewilderment. Too confused and dazzled to think clearly. She had never dreamed of this. It was as if

Starting point is 10:21:10 Miss Royal had suddenly put into her hand a key to unlock the door into the world of all her dreams and hopes and imaginings. Beyond that door was all she had ever hoped for of success and fame. And yet? And yet. What faint, odd resentment stirred at the back of all her whirling sensations. Was there a sting in Miss Royal's calm assumption that if Emily did not go with her, her name would forever remain unknown? Did the old dead and gone Murray's turn over in their graves at the whisper that one of their descendants could never succeed without the help and pull of a stranger? Or had Miss Royal's manner been a shade too patronizing? Whatever it was, it kept Emily from figuratively flinging herself at Miss Royal's feet. Oh, Miss Royal, that would be wonderful, she faltered. I'd love to go,

Starting point is 10:22:06 but I'm afraid Aunt Elizabeth will never consent. She'll say I'm too young. How old are you? Seventeen. I was 18 when I went. I didn't know a soul in New York. I had just enough money to keep me for three months. I was a crude, callow little thing, yet I won out.

Starting point is 10:22:27 You shall live with me. I'll look after you as well as Aunt Elizabeth herself could do. Tell her I'll guard you like the apple of my eye. I have a dear, cozy little flat where we'll be happy as queens, with my adored and adorable chuchin. You'll love chuchin, Emily. I think I'd like a cat better, said Emily firmly. Cats! Oh, we couldn't have a cat in a flat.

Starting point is 10:22:52 It wouldn't be amenable enough to discipline. You must sacrifice your pussies on the altar of your art. I'm sure you'll like living with me. I'm very kind, an amiable dearest, when I feel like it. And I generally do feel like it. and I never lose my temper. It freezes up occasionally, but, as I told you, it thaws quickly. I bear other people's misfortunes with equanimity, and I never tell anyone she has a cold, or that she looks tired. Oh, I'd really make an adorable housemaid. I'm sure you would,

Starting point is 10:23:23 said Emily, smiling. I never saw a young girl before that I wanted to live with, said Miss Royal. You have a sort of luminous personality, Emily. You give off light in dull places and in purple dreds, Now do make up your mind to come with me. It is Aunt Elizabeth's mind that must be made up, said Emily ruthfully. If she says I can go, I'll... Emily found herself stopping suddenly. Go, finished Miss Royal joyfully. Aunt Elizabeth will come around.

Starting point is 10:23:53 I'll go and have a talk with her. I'll go out to New Moon with you next Friday night. You must have your chance. I can't think you enough, Miss Royal, so I won't try. But I must go now. I'll think this all over. I'm too dazzled just now to think at all. You don't know what this means to me. I think I do, said Miss Royal gently. I was once a young girl in Shrewsbury, eating my heart out because I had no chance. But you made your own chance, and won out, said Emily wistfully. Yes, but I had to go away to do it.

Starting point is 10:24:28 I could never have got anywhere here, and it was a horribly hard climb at first. It took my youth. I want to save you some of the hardships and discouragements. You will go far beyond what I have done. You can create. I can only build with the materials others have made, but we builders have our place. We can make temples for our gods and goddesses, if nothing else. Come with me, dear girl, Emily,

Starting point is 10:24:54 and I will do all I can to help you in every way. Thank you, thank you, was all Emily could say. tears of gratitude for this offer of ungrudging help and sympathy were in her eyes. She had not received too much of sympathy or encouragement in her life. It touched her deeply. She went away feeling that she must turn the key and open the magic door, beyond which now seemed to lie all the beauty and allurement of life. If only Aunt Elizabeth would let her,

Starting point is 10:25:27 I can't do it if she doesn't approve, decided Emily. halfway home she suddenly stopped and laughed after all miss royal had forgotten to show her chew chin but it doesn't matter she thought because in the first place i can't believe that after this i'll ever feel any real interest in chow dogs and in the second place i'll see him often enough if i go to new york with miss royal end of chapter twenty three chapter twenty four of emily climes this is a livery-box recording all All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visitlibrivox.org. Recording by Natalie Doctor Emily Climes by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Chapter 24 of Valley of Vision Would she go to New York with Miss Royal?

Starting point is 10:26:25 That was the question Emily had now to answer. Or rather, the question and Elizabeth must answer, for on Aunt Elizabeth's answer, as Emily felt, everything depended. And she had no real hope that Aunt Elizabeth would let her go. Emily might look longingly towards those pleasant, far-off green pastures, pictured by Miss Royal, but she was quite sure she could never browse in them. The Murray pride and prejudice would be an impassable barrier. Emily said nothing to Aunt Ruth about Miss Royal's offer,

Starting point is 10:27:02 it was Aunt Elizabeth's due to hear it first. She kept her dazzling secret until the next weekend when Miss Royal came to New Moon, very gracious and pleasant, and the weiest bit patronizing to ask Aunt Elizabeth to let Emily go with her. Aunt Elizabeth listened in silence. A disapproving silence, as Emily felt.

Starting point is 10:27:27 The Murray women have never had to work out for their living, she said coldly. it isn't exactly what you'd call working out dear miss murray said miss royal with the courteous patience one must use to a lady whose viewpoint was that of an outlived generation thousands of women are going into business and professional life everywhere "'I suppose it's all right for them, if they don't get married,' said Aunt Elizabeth. Miss Royal flushed slightly. She knew that in Blair Water and Shrewsbury, she was regarded as an old maid, and therefore a failure, no matter what her income and standing might be in New York. But she kept her temper and tried another line of attack.

Starting point is 10:28:17 Emily has an unusual gift for writing, she said. I think she can do something really worthwhile if she gets the chance. She ought to have her chance, Miss Murray. You know there isn't any chance for that kind of work here. Emily has made ninety dollars this past year with her pen, said Aunt Elizabeth. Heaven grant me patience, thought Miss Royal. Said Miss Royal, yes, and ten years from now she may be making a few hundreds. Whereas if she comes with me, in ten years' time, her is.

Starting point is 10:28:51 income would probably be as many thousands. I'll have to think it over, said Aunt Elizabeth. Emily felt surprised that Aunt Elizabeth had even consented to think it over. She had expected absolute refusal. She'll come round to it, whispered Miss Royal, when she went away. I'm going to get you, darling, Emily B. I know the Murray's of old. They always had an eye to the main chance. And he will let you come. I'm afraid not, said Emily ruefully. When Miss Royal had gone, Aunt Elizabeth looked at Emily. Would you like to go, Emily? Yes. I think so, if you don't mind, faltered Emily. She was very pale. She did not plead or coax, but she had no hope, none. Aunt Elizabeth took a week to think it over. She called in Ruth and Wallace and Oliver to help her.

Starting point is 10:29:53 Ruth said dubiously, I suppose we ought to let her go. It's a splendid chance for her. It's not as if she were going alone. I'd never agree to that. Janet will look after her. She's too young, she's too young, said Uncle Oliver. It seems a good chance for her.

Starting point is 10:30:18 Janet Royal has done well, they say, said Uncle Wallace. Aunt Elizabeth even wrote to Great Aunt Nancy. The answer came back in Aunt Nancy's quavering hand. Suppose you let Emily decide for herself, suggested Aunt Nancy. Aunt Elizabeth folded up Aunt Nancy's letter and called Emily into the parlor. If you wish to go with Miss Royal, you may, she said. I feel it would not be right for me. to hinder you. We shall miss you. We would rather have you with us for a few years yet.

Starting point is 10:30:56 I know nothing about New York. I'm told it is a wicked city. But you have been brought up carefully. I leave the decision in your own hands. Laura, what are you crying about? Emily felt as if she wanted to cry herself. To her amazement, she felt something that was not delight or pleasure. It was one thing to long after forbidden pastures. It seemed to be quite another thing when the bars were flung down, and you were told to enter if you would. Emily did not immediately rush to her room and write a joyous letter to Miss Royal, who was visiting friends in Charlottetown. Instead, she went out into the garden and thought very hard, all that afternoon and all Sunday. During the week in Shrewsbury, she was quiet,

Starting point is 10:31:47 and thoughtful, conscious that Aunt Ruth was watching her closely. For some reason, Aunt Ruth did not discuss the matter with her. Perhaps she was thinking of Andrew. Or perhaps it was an understood thing among the Murray's, that Emily's decision was to be entirely uninfluenced. Emily couldn't understand why she didn't write to Miss Royal at once. Of course she would go. Wouldn't it be terribly foolish not to? She would never have such a chance to. again. It was such a splendid chance. Everything made easy. The alpine path no more than a smooth and gentle slope. Success certain, and brilliant and quick. Why then did she have to keep telling herself all this? Why was she driven to seek Mr. Carpenter's advice the next weekend? And Mr. Carpenter

Starting point is 10:32:41 would not help her much. He was rheumatic and cranky. Don't tell me the cats have been hunting again, he groaned. No, I haven't any manuscripts this time, said Emily, with a faint smile. I've come to ask for advice of a different kind. She told him of her perplexity. It's such a splendid chance, she concluded. Of course it's a splendid chance, to go and be yankified, grunted, grunted Mr. Carpenter.

Starting point is 10:33:13 I wouldn't get yankified, said Emily, resentfully. "'Miss Royal has been twenty years in New York, and she isn't Yankeified.' "'Isn't she? I don't mean by Yankeified what you think I do,' retorted Mr. Carpenter. "'I'm not referring to the silly girls who go up to the States to work and come back in six months "'with an accent that would raise blisters on your skin.' "'Janet Royal is Yankeified. Her outlook and atmosphere and style are all U.S.' And I'm not condemning them. They're all right. But she isn't a Canadian any longer, and that's what I wanted you to be, pure Canadian through and through. Doing something as far as in

Starting point is 10:33:59 you lay for the literature of your own country, keeping your Canadian tang in flavor. But of course there is not many dollars in that sort of thing yet. There's no chance to do anything here, argued Emily. No, no more than there was. wasn't Haworth Parsonage, growled Mr. Carpenter. I'm not a Charlotte Bronte, protested Emily. She had genius. It can stand alone. I have only talent. It needs help and, and guidance. In short, pull, said Mr. Carpenter.

Starting point is 10:34:38 So you think I oughtn't to go, said Emily anxiously. Go if you want to. To be quickly famous, we must all start. dupe a little. Oh, go, go, I'm telling you. I'm too old to argue. Go in peace. You'd be a fool not to. Only, fools do sometimes attain. There's a special providence for them, no doubt. Emily went away from the little house in the hollow with her eyes rather black. She met old Kelly on her way up the hill, and he pulled his plump nag and red chariot to a standstill and beckoned to her. Girl dear, here's some peppermints for you. And now, ain't it high time?

Starting point is 10:35:21 Eh, you know. Old Kelly winked at her. Oh, I'm going to be an old maid, Mr. Kelly, smiled Emily. Old Kelly shook his head as he gathered up his reins. Sure, and nothing like that will ever be happening to you. You're one of the folks God really loves. Only don't be taken one of the praces now. never one of the praise, girl, dear.

Starting point is 10:35:47 Mr. Kelly, said Emily suddenly, I've been offered a splendid chance to go to New York and take a place on the staff of a magazine. I can't make up my mind. What do you think I'd better do? As she spoke, she thought of the horror of Aunt Elizabeth at the idea of a Murray asking Old Jock Kelly's advice. She herself was a little ashamed of doing it.

Starting point is 10:36:12 Old Kelly shook his head again. What do the bees around here be thinking of? But what does the old lady say? Aunt Elizabeth says I can do as I like. Then I guess we'll be laving it at that, said Old Kelly, and drove off without another word. Plainly there was no help to be had in Old Kelly. Why should I want help?

Starting point is 10:36:37 Thought Emily desperately. What has got into me that I can't make up my own mind? Why can't I say I'll go? It doesn't seem to me now that I want to go. I only feel I ought to want to go. She wished Dean were home. But Dean had not got back from his winter in Los Angeles, and somehow she could not talk the matter over with Teddy.

Starting point is 10:37:01 Nothing had come of that wonderful moment in the old John house. Nothing except a certain constraint that had almost spoiled their old comradeship. Outwardly they were as good friends as ever, but something was gone, and nothing seemed to be taking its place. She would not admit to herself that she was afraid to ask Teddy. Suppose he told her to go. That would hurt unbearably, because it would show that he didn't care whether she went or stayed.

Starting point is 10:37:30 But Emily would not glance at this at all. Of course I'll go, she said aloud to herself. Perhaps the spoken word would settle things. What would I do next year if I didn't? Aunt Elizabeth will certainly never let me go anywhere else alone. Ilsa will be away, and Perry? Teddy too likely? He says he's bound to go and do something to earn money for his art study.

Starting point is 10:37:57 I must go. She said it fiercely, as if arguing against some invisible opponent. When she reached home in the twilight, no one was there, and she went restlessly all over the house. What charm and dignity and fineness the old rooms had, with their candles and their ladder-back chairs, and their braided rugs! How dear and entreating was her own little room, with its diamond paper and its guardian angel, its fat black-rose jar, and its funny, kinky window-pane! Would Miss Royals flat be half so wonderful? "'Of course I'll go,' she said again, feeling that if she could only have left off the of course,

Starting point is 10:38:40 the thing would have been settled. She went out into the garden, lying in the remote, passionless beauty of an early spring moonlight, and walked up and down its paths. From afar came the whistle of the Shrewsbury train, like a call from the alluring world beyond, a world full of interest, charm, drama?

Starting point is 10:39:03 She paused by the old lichen sundial and traced the motto on its border, So goes time by. Time did go by, swiftly, mercilessly, even at new moon, unspoiled as it was by any haste, her rush of modernity. Should she not take the current when it offered? The white June lilies waved in the faint breeze. She could almost see her old friend, the windwomen, bending over them to tilt their wax and chins. Would the windwomen come to her in the crowded sea? streets? Could she be like Kipling's cat there? And I wonder if I'll ever have the flash in New York, she thought wistfully. How beautiful was this old garden which cousin Jimmy loved. How beautiful was

Starting point is 10:39:53 old new moon farm. Its beauty had a subtly romantic quality, all its own. There was enchantment in the curve of the dark red, dew-wet road beyond, remote, spiritual allurement in the three princesses. magic in the orchard, a hint of intriguing devilment in the fir wood. How could she leave this old house that had sheltered and loved her? Never tell me houses do not love. The graves of her kin by the Blair Water Pond, the wide fields and haunted woods where her childhood dreams had been dreamed. All at once, she knew she could not leave them.

Starting point is 10:40:33 She knew she had never really wanted to leave them. That was why she had gone about desperately asking advice of impossible outsiders. She had really been hoping they would tell her not to go. That was why she wished so wildly that Dean were home. He would certainly have told her not to go. I belong to New Moon. I stay among my own people, she said. There was no doubt about this decision.

Starting point is 10:41:04 She did not want anyone to help her to it. A deep inner contentment possessed her as she went up the walk and into the old house, which no longer looked reproachfully at her. She found Elizabeth and Laura and cousin Jimmy in the kitchen, full of its candle magic. I'm not going to New York, Aunt Elizabeth, she said. I'm going to stay here, at New Moon with you. Aunt Laura gave a little cry of joy. Cousin Jimmy said, hurrah!

Starting point is 10:41:35 "'Ah!' Aunt Elizabeth knitted a round of her stocking before she said anything. "'Then—' "'I thought a Murray would,' she said. "'Emily went straight to Ashbourne Monday evening. "'Miss Royal had returned and greeted her warmly. "'I hope you've come to tell me that Miss Murray has decided to be reasonable "'and let you come with me, honey, sweet.' "'She told me I could decide for myself.'

Starting point is 10:42:03 Miss Royal clapped her hands. Oh, goody, goody, then it's all settled. Emily was pale, but her eyes were black with earnestness and intense feeling. Yes, it's settled. I'm not going, she said. I thank you with all my heart, Miss Royal, but I can't go. Miss Royal stared at her, realized in a moment that it was not the slightest use to plead or argue, but began to plead and argue all the same.

Starting point is 10:42:35 Emily, you can't mean it. Why can't you come? I can't leave New Moon. I love it too much. It means too much to me. I thought you wanted to come with me, Emily, said Miss Royal reproachfully. I did, and part of me wants to yet, but a way down under that, another part of me will not go. Don't think me foolish and ungrateful, Miss Royal. "'Of course I don't think you're ungrateful,' said Miss Royal helplessly. "'But I do.' "'Yes, I do think you're awfully foolish.

Starting point is 10:43:10 "'You are simply throwing away your chance of a career. "'What can you ever do here that is worthwhile, child? "'You've no idea of the difficulties in your path. "'You can't get material here. "'There's no atmosphere, no—' "'I'll create my own atmosphere,' said Emily, "'with a trifle of spirit. "'After all,' she thought,

Starting point is 10:43:30 Miss Royal's viewpoint was just the same as Mrs. Alex Sawyer's, and her manner was patronizing. And as for material, people live here just the same as anywhere else. Suffer and enjoy and sin and aspire, just as they do in New York. You don't know a thing about it, said Miss Royal, rather pettishly. You'll never be able to write anything really worthwhile here. No big thing. There's no inspiration. You'll be hampered in every way.

Starting point is 10:44:02 The big editors won't look farther than the address of P.E. Island on your manuscript. Emily, you're committing literary suicide. You'll realize that at three of the clock some white night, Emily B. Oh, I suppose after some years you'll work up a clientele of Sunday school and agricultural papers. But will that satisfy you? You know it won't. And then the petty jealousy of these small prunes and prisms. places. If you do anything the people you went to school with can't do, some of them will never forgive you. And they'll all think you're the heroine of your own stories, especially if you portray

Starting point is 10:44:41 her beautiful and charming. If you write a love story, they'll be sure to think it's your own. You'll get so tired of Blair Water. You'll know all the people in it, what they are and can be. It'll be like reading a book for the 20th time. Oh, I know all about it. I was alive. before you were born, as I said when I was eight, to a playmate of six. You'll get discouraged. The hour of three o'clock will gradually overwhelm you. There's a three o'clock every night, remember? You'll give up, you'll marry that cousin of yours. Never. Will someone like him then, and settle down? No, I'll never settle down, said Emily, decidedly. Never as long as I live. What a dodgy condition.

Starting point is 10:45:30 And you'll have a parlor like this of Aunt Angela's, continued Miss Royal relentlessly. A mantelpiece crowded with photographs, an easel with an enlarged picture in a frame eight inches wide, a red plush album with a crocheted doily on it, a crazy quilt on your spare room bed, a hand-painted banner in your hall, and, as a final touch of elegance, an asparagus fern will grace the center of your dining-room table. No, said Emily gravely. Such things are not among the Murray traditions. Well, the spiritual equivalent of them then.

Starting point is 10:46:09 Oh, I can see your whole life, Emily, here in a place like this where people can't see a mile beyond their nose. I can see farther than that, said Emily, putting up her chin. I can see the stars. I was speaking figuratively, mind. dear. So was I. Oh, Miss Royal, I know life is rather cramped here in some ways, but the sky is as much mine as anybody's. I may not succeed here, but, if not, I wouldn't succeed in New York either. Some fountain of living water would dry up in my soul if I left the land I love. I know I'll have

Starting point is 10:46:49 difficulties and discouragements here, but people have overcome far worse. You know that story you told me about Parkman, that for years he was unable to write for more than five minutes at a time, that he took three years to write one of his books, six lines per day for three years. I shall always remember that when I get discouraged. It will help me through any number of white nights. Well, Miss Royal threw out her hands, I give up. I think you're making a terrible mistake, Emily. But if in the years to come I find out I'm wrong, I'll write and admit it. And if you find out you were wrong, write me and admit it. And you'll find me as ready to help you as ever. I won't even say I told you so. Send me any stories my magazine is fit for, and ask me for any advice I can give.

Starting point is 10:47:44 I'm going right back to New York tomorrow. I was only going to wait till July to take you with me. "'Since you won't come, I'm off. "'I detest living in a place "'where all they think is that I've played my cards badly "'and lost the matrimonial game, "'where all the young girls, except you, "'are so abominably respectful to me "'and where the old folks keep telling me

Starting point is 10:48:07 "'I look so much like my mother. "'Mother was ugly. "'Let's say goodbye and make it snappy.' "'Miss Royal,' said Emily earnestly, "'you do believe, don't you? you that I appreciate your kindness. Your sympathy and encouragement have meant more to me, always will mean more to me than you can ever dream." Miss Royal whisked her handkerchief furtively across her eyes, and made an elaborate curtsy. Thank you for them kind words, Lady,

Starting point is 10:48:39 she said solemnly. Then she laughed a little, put her hands on Emily's shoulders, and kissed her cheek. All the good wishes ever thought, said, or written, go with you, she said, and I think it would be nice if any place could ever mean to me what it is evident new moon means to you. At three o'clock that night, a wakeful but contented Emily, remembered that she had never seen Chu Chin. End of Chapter 24. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org. Recording by Tanya Bessler, Stuttgart, Germany. Emily Climes by Lucy Maude Montgomery. Chapter 25, April Love, June 10, 19. Yesterday evening, Andrew Oliver Murray asked Emily Birdstar to marry him.

Starting point is 10:49:51 The said Emily Birdstar told him, she wouldn't. I'm glad it's over. I felt it coming for some time. Every evening Andrew has been here, I felt that he was trying to bring the conversation around to some serious subject, but I have never felt quite equal to the interview and always contrived to sidetrack him with frivolity. yesterday evening I went to the land of uprightness for one of the last rambles I shall have in it. I climbed the hill of firs and looked down over the fields of mist and silver in the moonlight. The shadows of the ferns and sweet wild grasses along the edge of the woods were like a dance of sprites.

Starting point is 10:50:32 Away beyond the harbor, below the moonlight, was a sky of purple and amber where a sunset had been. But behind me was darkness. A darkness which, with its tang of fur-balsom, was like a perfume chamber where one might dream dreams and sea visions. Always when I go into the land of uprightness, I leave behind the realm of daylight, and things known, and go into the realm of shadow and mystery and enchantment, where anything might happen. Anything might come true. I can believe anything there. Old myths, legends, dryads, fawns, leprecons. One of my wonder moments came to me. It seemed to me that I got out of my body and was free. I'm sure I heard an echo of that random word of the gods, and I wanted some unused

Starting point is 10:51:24 language to express what I saw and felt. Enter Andrew, spick and span, prim and gentlemanly. Fawns, fairies, wonder moments, random words fled pell-mell. No. No. new language was needed now. What a pity side-whiskers went out with the last generation. They would suit him so, I said to myself in good plain English. I knew Andrew had come to say something special. Otherwise, he would not have followed me into the land of uprightness, but have waited decorously in Aunt Ruth's parlor. I knew it had to come, and I made up my mind to get it over and have done with it. The expectant attitude of Aunt Ruth and the New Moon folks has been oppressive lately. I believe they all feel quite sure that the real reason I wouldn't go to New York

Starting point is 10:52:13 was that I couldn't bear to part with Andrew. But I was not going to have Andrew proposed to me by Moonlight in the land of uprightness. I might have been bewitched into accepting him. So when he said, It's nice here. Let's stay for a while. After all, I think there is nothing so pretty as nature. I said gently but firmly that, though nature must feel highly flattered, it was too, damp for a person with a tendency to consumption, and I must go in. In we went. I sat down opposite Andrew and stared at a bit of Aunt Ruth's crochet yarn on the carpet. I shall remember the color and shape of that yarn to my dying day. Andrew talked jerkily about indifferent things and then begin throwing out hints. He would get his

Starting point is 10:53:02 managerhip in two years more, he believed in people marrying young, and so on. He He floundered badly. I suppose I could have made it easier for him, but I hardened my heart, remembering how he had kept away in those dreadful weeks of the John House scandal. At last he blurted out. Emily, let's get married. When? When?

Starting point is 10:53:25 As soon as I am able to. He seemed to feel that he ought to say something more, but didn't know just what. So he repeated, just as soon as I am able to, and stopped. I don't believe I even went through the motions of a little bit. blush. Why should we get married? I said. Andrew looked aghast. Evidently, this was not the Murray tradition of receiving a proposal. Why? Why? Because I'd like it, he stammered. I wouldn't, I said. Andrew stared at me for a few moments trying to take in the amazing idea that he was being refused. But why? he asked.

Starting point is 10:54:08 exactly in Aunt Ruth's tone and manner. Because I don't love you, I said. Andrew did blush. I know he thought I was immodest. I think they'd all like it, he stammered. I wouldn't, I said again. I said it in a tone, even Andrew couldn't mistake. He was so surprised.

Starting point is 10:54:31 I don't think he felt anything but surprise, not even disappointment. He didn't know what to do. or say, a Murray couldn't coax. So he got up and went out without another word. I thought he banged the door, but afterwards I discovered it was only the wind. I wish he had banged the door. It would have saved my self-respect. It is mortifying to refuse a man and then discover that his main feeling is bewilderment. Next morning, Aunt Ruth, evidently suspecting something amiss from the brevity of Andrew's call, asked me point-blank what had happened. There's nothing subtle about Aunt Ruth. I told her just as point-blankly. What fault have you to find with Andrew? she asked,

Starting point is 10:55:20 icily. No fault, but he tastes flat. He has all the virtues, but the pinch of salt was left out, I said with my nose in the air. I hope you don't go farther and fare worse, said Aunt Ruth ominously, meaning, as I knew, stovpipedown. I could have reassured Aunt Ruth on that point. Also, had I chosen, last week Perry came to tell me that he is going into Mr. Abel's office in Charlottetown to study law. It's a splendid chance for him. Mr. Abel heard his speech the night of the inter-school debate and has had his eye on him ever since, I understand. I congratulated him heartily. I really was delighted. He'll give me a enough to pay my board, said Perry, and I guess I can rustle my clothes on some sideline.

Starting point is 10:56:11 I've got to haul my own row. Aunt Tom won't help me. You know why. I'm sorry, Perry, I said, laughing a little. Won't you, Emily? he said. I'd like this thing settled. It is settled, I said. I suppose I've made an awful ass of myself about you, grumbled Perry. You have, I said comfortingly, but still laughingly. somehow I've never been able to take Perry seriously any more than Andrew. I've always got the feeling that he just imagines he's in love with me. You won't get a cleverer man than me in a hurry, warned Perry. I'm going to climb high.

Starting point is 10:56:51 I'm sure you will, I said warmly, and nobody will be more pleased than your friend, Emily B. Oh, friends, said Perry sulkily. It's not for a friend I want you, but I've always always. was heard it was no use to coax a Murray. Will you tell me one thing? It isn't my funeral. But are you going to marry Andrew Murray? It isn't your funeral. But I'm not, I said. Well, said Barry as he went out, if you ever change your mind, let me know. It will be all right if I haven't changed mine. I have written the account of this exactly as it happened, But I have also written another account of it in my Jimmy book, as it should have happened.

Starting point is 10:57:38 I find I am beginning to overcome my old difficulty of getting my dream people to make love fluently. In my imaginary account, both Perry and I talked beautifully. I think Perry really felt a little worse than Andrew did, and I felt sorry about it. I do like Perry so much as a chum and friend. I hate to disappoint him, but I know he's. will soon get over it. So I'll be the only one left at Blair Water next year. I don't know how I feel about that. I dare say I'll feel a little flat by times. Perhaps at three of the night I'll wish I had gone with Miss Royal. But I'm going to settle down to hard, serious work. It's a long climb to the crest of the

Starting point is 10:58:22 Alpine Path, but I believe in myself, and there is always my world behind the curtain. New Moon, June 21st, 19. As soon as I arrived home tonight, I felt a decided atmosphere of disapproval and realized that Aunt Elizabeth knew all about Andrew. She was angry, and Aunt Laura was sorry, but nobody has said anything. At Twilight, I talked it over in the garden with cousin Jimmy. Andrew, it seems, has been feeling quite badly since the numbness of shock wore off. His appetite has failed, and Aunt Addie indignantly wants to know if I expect to marry a prince or a millionaire since her son is not good enough for me. Cousin Jimmy thinks I did perfectly right.

Starting point is 10:59:12 Cousin Jimmy would think I had done perfectly right if I had murdered Andrew and buried him in the land of uprightness. It's very nice to have one friend like that, though too many wouldn't be good for you. June 22nd, 19. I don't know which is worse. To have somebody you don't like ask you to marry him or not have someone you do like. Both are rather unpleasant. I have decided that I only imagined certain things in the old John house.

Starting point is 10:59:45 I'm afraid Aunt Ruth was right when she used to say my imagination needed a curb. This evening I loitered in the garden. In spite of the fact that it was June, it was cold and raw, and I felt a little lonely and discouraged and flat. perhaps because two stories of which I had hoped a good deal came back to me today. Suddenly I heard Teddy's signal whistle in the old orchard. Of course I went. It's always a case of,

Starting point is 11:00:14 Oh, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad, with me, though I would die before I would admit it to anyone but my journal. As soon as I saw his face, I knew he had some great news. He had. He held out a letter, Mr. Frederick Ken. I never can remember that Teddy's name is Frederick. He can never be anything but Teddy to me. He has won a scholarship at the School of Design in Montreal, $500 for two years.

Starting point is 11:00:44 I was instantly as excited as he was, with a queer feeling behind the excitement, which was so compounded of fear and hope and expectancy, that I couldn't tell which predominated. How splendid for you, Teddy! I said a little tremulously. Oh, I'm so glad. But your mother, what does she think of it? She'll let me go, but she'll be very lonely and unhappy, said Teddy, growing very sober instantly. I want her to come with me, but she won't leave the tansy patch. I hate to think of her living there all alone.

Starting point is 11:01:23 I wish she didn't feel as she does about you, Emily. If she didn't, you've done, you've could be such a comfort to her. I wondered if it occurred to Teddy that I might need a little comforting too. A queer silence fell between us. We walked along the tomorrow road. It has grown so beautiful that one wonders if any tomorrow can make it more beautiful, until we reached the fence of the pond pasture and stood there under the gray-green gloom of the firs. I felt suddenly very happy, and in those few minutes part of me planted a garden and laid out beautiful closets and bought a dozen solid silver teaspoons and arranged my attic and hem stitched a double to mask tablecloth and the other part of me just waited. Once I said it was a lovely evening. It wasn't. And a few minutes later I said it looked like rain. It didn't. But one had to say something. I'm going to work hard. I'm going to get everything possible out of those two years.

Starting point is 11:02:31 Teddy said at last, staring at Blair Water and at the sky and at the sand hills and at the green leisurely meadows and at everything but me. Then perhaps when they're up, I'll manage to get to Paris, to go abroad, to see the masterpieces of great artists, to live in their atmosphere, to see the scenes their genius immortalized, all I've been hungry for all my life. And when I come back, Teddy stopped abruptly and turned to me. From the look in his eyes, I thought he was going to kiss me. I really did. I don't know what I would have done if I couldn't have shut my own eyes. And when I come back, he repeated, stopped again. Yes, I said. I don't deny this to my journal that I has said it a trifle expectantly. i'll make the name of frederick kent mean something in canada said teddy i opened my eyes teddy was looking at the dim gold of blairwater and scowling again i had a feeling that night air was not good for me i shivered set a few polite commonplaces and left him there scowling i wonder if he was too shy to kiss me or just didn't want to

Starting point is 11:03:52 I could care tremendously for Teddy Kent if I let myself, if he wanted me to. It is evident he doesn't want me to. He is thinking of nothing but success and ambition in a career. He has forgotten our exchange of glances in the old John House. He has forgotten that he told me three years ago on George Horton's tombstone that I was the sweetest girl in the world. He will meet hundreds of wonderful girls out in the world. He will never think of me again.

Starting point is 11:04:22 So be it. If Teddy doesn't want me, I don't want him. That is a Murray tradition. But then I'm only half Murray. There is the star half to be considered. Luckily, I have a career and an ambition also to think about. And a jealous goddess to serve, as Mr. Carpenter once told me. I think she might not tolerate a divided allegiance.

Starting point is 11:04:48 I am conscious of three sensations. On top, I am sternly composed and traditional. Underneath that, something that would hurt horribly if I let it is being kept down. And underneath that again is a queer feeling of relief that I still have my freedom. June 26, 19. All Shrewsbury is laughing over Ilsa's last exploit and half Shrewsbury is disapproving. There is a certain very pompous young senior who acts as usher in St. John's Church on Sundays, who takes himself very seriously and whom Ilsa hates.

Starting point is 11:05:31 Last Sunday, she dressed herself up as an old woman, borrowing the toggery from a poor relation of Mrs. Adamson's who boards with her, a long, full black skirt bordered with crape, a black mantle bordered with crape, a widow's bonnet, and a heavy crape widow's veil. Array thus, she tottered down the street and paused. wistfully at the church steps, as if she couldn't possibly climb them. Young Pomposity saw her, and having some decent instincts behind his pomposity, went gallantly to her assistance. He took her shaking, mittent hand. It was shaking all right. Ilsa was in spasms of laughter behind her veil, and assisted her frail, trembling feet up the steps,

Starting point is 11:06:16 through the porch, up the aisle, and into a pew. Ilsa murmured a broken blessing on her. Elsa murmured a broken blessing on him, handed him a tract, sat through the service, and then tottered home. Next day, of course, the story was all through the school, and the poor lad was so guide by the other boys that all his pomposity oozed out, temporarily at least under the torture. Perhaps the incident may do him a world of good. Of course I scolded Ilsa. She is a glad, daring creature and counts no cost. She will always do whatever she takes it into her head to do, even if it were to turn a somersault in the church aisle. I love her, love her, love her, and what will I do without her next year? I do not know. Our tomorrows will always be

Starting point is 11:07:06 separated after this and grow apart, and when we meet occasionally it will be as strangers. Oh, I know, I know. I also was furious over what she called Perry's presumption in thinking that I could ever marry him. Oh, it was not presumption. It was condescension, I said, laughing. Perry belongs to the great ducal house of Carabas. Oh, he'll succeed, of course, but there'll always be a flavor of stovepipe town about him, retorted Ilsa. Why have you always been so hard on Perry, Ilsa, I protested. Oh, he's such a cackling oaf, said Ilsa morosely. Oh, well, he's just at the age when a boy knows everything, I said, feeling quite wise and elderly. He will grow more ignorant and endurable after a while.

Starting point is 11:08:02 I went on feeling epigrammatic. And he has improved in these Shrewsbury years, I concluded feeling smug. You talk as if he were a cabbage, fumed Ilsa, for how he. Heaven's sake, Emily, don't be so superior in patronizing. There are times when Ilza's good for me. I know I deserve that. Oh, he'll succeed, of course, but there'll always be a flavor of stovepipe town about him, retorted Ilsa. Why have you always been so hard on Perry, Ilsa, I protested. He's such a cackling oaf, said Ilsa morosely. Oh, well, he's just at the age. He's just at the age. when a boy knows everything, I said, feeling quite wise and elderly. He will grow more ignorant and

Starting point is 11:08:53 endurable after a while. I went on feeling epigrammatic, and he has improved in these Shrewsbury years. I concluded feeling smug. You talk as if you were a cabbage, fumed Ilsa. For heaven's sake, Emily, don't be so superior and patronizing. June 2719. There are times. when Ilsa is good for me. I know I deserve that. Last night, I dreamed I stood in the old summer house at New Moon and saw the lost diamond sparkling on the floor at my feet. I picked it up in delight. It lay in my hand for a moment. Then it seemed to elude my grasp, flash through the air, leaving a long, slender trail of brilliance behind it, and become a star in the western sky, just above the edge of the world. It is my star.

Starting point is 11:09:46 I must reach it before it sets, I thought, and started out. Suddenly, Dean was beside me, and he too was following the star. I felt I must go slowly because he was lame and could not go fast. And all the time the star sank lower and lower. Yet I felt I couldn't leave Dean. Then just as suddenly things do happen like that in dreams. So nice, without a bit of trouble. Teddy was beside me too, holding out his seat.

Starting point is 11:10:16 hands to me with the look in his eyes I had seen twice before. I put my hands in his, and he drew me towards him. I was holding up my face. Then Dean gave a bitter cry. My star has set! I turned my head for just a glance. The star was gone, and I woke up in a dull, ugly, rainy dawn with no star. No teddy. No kiss. I wonder what the dream meant, if it meant anything. I must not think it did. It is a Murray tradition not to be superstitious. June 28th, 19. This is my last night in Shrewsbury. Goodbye, proud world, I'm going home. Tomorrow when Cousin Jimmy is coming for me in my trunk in the old express wagon, and I will ride back in that chariot of state to New Moon. These three Shrewsbury years seem so long to me when I looked ahead to them, and now, looking back, they seem as yesterday when I was, it has passed. I think I've won something in them. I don't use so many italics. I've acquired a little poise and self-control. I've got a bit of bitter worldly wisdom. And I've learned to smile

Starting point is 11:11:31 over a rejection slip. I think that has been the hardest lesson of all to learn, and doubtless, the most necessary. As I look back over these three years, some things stand out so much more clearly and significantly than others, as if they had a special meaning all their own. And not always the things one might expect either. For instance, Evelyn's enmity and even that horrible mustache incident seemed faded and unimportant. But the moment I saw my first poem in Garden and Woodland, oh, that was a moment. My walk to New Moon and back, the night of the play, the writing of that queer little poem of mine that Mr. Carpenter tore up, my night on the haystack under the September moon, that splendid old woman who spank the king, the moment in class when I discovered

Starting point is 11:12:23 Keats' lines about the airy voices, and that other moment in the old John House when Teddy looked into my eyes. Oh, it seems to me these are the things I will remember in the halls of eternity when Evelyn Blake sneers and the John House scandal in Aunt Ruth's nagging and the routine of lessons and examinations have been forever forgotten. And my promise to Aunt Elizabeth has helped me, as Mr. Carpenter predicted. Not in my diary, perhaps. I'd just let myself go here. One must have a vent, but in my stories and Jimmy books. We had our class day exercises this afternoon.

Starting point is 11:13:05 I wore my new cream organdy with the violets in it and carried a big bouquet of pink peonies. Dean, who was in Montreal on his way home, wired the florist here for a bouquet of roses for me. Seventeen roses, one for each year of my life, and it was presented to me when I went up for my diploma. That was dear of Dean. Perry was class orator and made a fine speech, and he got the medal for general proficiency. It has been a stiff pull between him and Will Morris, but Perry has won out. I wrote and read the Class Day prophecy.

Starting point is 11:13:44 It was very amusing, and the audience seemed to enjoy it. I had another one in my Jimmy book at home. It was much more amusing, but it wouldn't have done to read it. I wrote my last aside letter for Mr. Towers tonight. I've always hated that stunt, but I wanted the few pennies it brought in, and one mustn't scorn the base to greet. by which one ascends young ambitions ladder. I've also been packing up.

Starting point is 11:14:11 Aunt Ruth came up occasionally and looked at me as I packed, but was oddly silent. Finally, she said with a sigh, I shall miss you awfully, Emily. I never dreamed of her saying and feeling anything like that, and it made me uncomfortable. Since Aunt Ruth was so decent about the John House scandal, I felt differently towards her,

Starting point is 11:14:34 but I couldn't say I'd miss her. Yet something had to be said. I shall always be very grateful to you, Aunt Ruth, for what you have done for me these past three years. I've tried to do my duty, said Aunt Ruth virtuously. I find I'm oddly sorry to leave this little room I've never liked, and that has never liked me, and that long hill starred with lights.

Starting point is 11:15:00 After all, I've had some wonderful moments here. and even poor dying Byron. But by no stretch of sentiment can I regret parting from Queen Alexandra's Cromo or the vase of paper flowers. Of course, the Lady Giovanna goes with me. She belongs in my room at New Moon. She has always seemed like an exile here. It hurts me to think that I shall never again hear the night wind in the land of uprightness. But I'll have my night wind in lofty John's Bush. I think Aunt Elizabeth means to let me have a kerosene lamp to write by. My door at New Moon shuts tight, and I will not have to drink Cambrick tea. I went at dusk to night to that little pearly pool, which has always been such a witching

Starting point is 11:15:48 spot to linger near on spring evenings. Through the trees that fringe did, faint hues of rose and saffron from the west stole across it. It was unruffled by a breath, and every leaf and branch and fern and blade of grass was mirrored in it. I looked in and saw my face, and by an odd twist of reflection from a bending bow, I seemed to wear a leafy garland on my head, like a laurel crown. I took it as a good omen. Perhaps Teddy was only shy. The end. End of Chapter 25. End of Emily Climes by

Starting point is 11:16:32 Lucy Maud Montgomery.

Classic Audiobook Collection - Emily Climbs by Lucy Maud Montgomery ~ Full Audiobook [family]

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