Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the sixteenth chapter of Anne's House of Dreams.

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Wherever you listen to podcasts today, we'll be continuing anne's House of Dreams by Lucy Maud Montgomery chapter 16 New Year's Eve at the Light The Green Gables folk went home after Christmas marilla under solemn covenant to return for a month in the spring.

More snow came before New Year's, and the harbor froze over, but the Gulf still was free beyond the white imprisoned fields.

The last day of the old year was one of those bright, cold, dazzling winter days which bombarded us with their brilliancy and command their admiration, but never our love.

The sky was sharp and blue, the snow diamonds sparkled insistently.

The stark trees were bare and shameless with a kind of brazen beauty.

The hills shot assaulting lances of crystal.

Even the shadows were sharp and stiff and clear cut, as no proper shadows should be.

Everything that was handsome seemed ten times handsomer and less attractive in the glaring splendor.

And everything that was ugly seemed ten times uglier, and everything was either handsome or ugly.

There was no soft blending or kind obscurity or elusive mistiness in that searching glitter.

The only thing that held their own individuality were the furs.

For the fur is the tree of.

Mystery and shadow, and yields never to the encroachments of crude radiance.

But finally the day began to realize that she was growing old and a certain pensiveness fell over her beauty, which dimmed yet intensified it sharp angles.

Glittering points melted away into curves and enticing gleams.

The white harbor put on soft grays and pinks.

The faraway hills turned amethyst.

The old year is going away.

Beautifully said Anne.

She and Leslie and Gilbert were on their way to the Forewinds point, having plodded with Captain Jim to watch the new year in at the light.

The sun had set and in the southwestern sky hung Venus glorious and golden having drawn as near to her Earth's sister as is possible for her for the first time Anne and Gilbert saw the shadow cast by that brilliant star of evening that faint, mysterious shadow never seen save when there's white snow to reveal it.

And then only with averted vision vanishing.

When you gaze at it directly, it's like the spirit of a shadow, isn't it?

Whispered Anne.

You can see it so plainly, haunting your side when you look ahead.

But when you turn and look at it, it's gone.

I have heard that you can see the shadow of Venus only once in a lifetime and that within a year of seeing it, your life's most wonderful gift will come to you, said Leslie.

But she spoke rather hardly.

Perhaps she thought that even the shadow of Venus could bring her no gift of life.

Anne smiled in the soft twilight, but she felt quite sure what the mystic shadow promised her.

They found Marshall Elliot at the lighthouse.

At first, Anne felt inclined to resent the intrusion of this long haired, long bearded eccentric into the familiar little circle.

But Marshall Elliott soon proved his legitimate claim to membership in the household of Joseph.

He was a witty, intelligent, well read man, rivaling Captain Jim himself in the knack of telling a good story.

They were all glad when he agreed to watch the old year out with them.

Captain Jim's small nephew Joe had come down to spend New Years with his great uncle and had fallen asleep on the sofa with the first mate curled up in a huge golden ball at his feet.

Ain't he a dear little man?

Said Captain Jim gloatingly.

I do love to watch a little child asleep, Mistress Blithe.

It's the most beautiful sight in the world.

I reckon Joe does love to get down here for a night because I.

Have him sleep with me at home.

He has to sleep with the other.

Two boys, and he doesn't like it.

Why can't I sleep with Father?

Uncle Jim?

Says he, everybody in the Bible slept with their fathers.

As for the questions he asks, the minister himself couldn't answer them.

They fair swamp me, Uncle Jim.

If I wasn't me, who'd I be?

And Uncle Jim, what would happen if God died?

He fired them two off at me tonight before he went to sleep.

As for his imagination, it sails away from everything.

He makes up the most remarkable yarns.

And then his mother shuts him up in the closet for telling stories, and he sits down and makes up another one and has it ready to relate to her when she lets him out.

He had one for me when he come down tonight.

Uncle Jim says he saw him as a tombstone.

I had a venture in the glen today.

Yes?

What was it?

Says, I expecting something quite startling but no wise prepared for what I really got.

I met a wolf in the street, says he.

Enormous wolf with a big red mouth and awful long teeth.

Uncle Jim.

I didn't know there was any wolves up at the Glenn, says I.

Oh, he come there from far, far away, says Joe.

And I thought he was going to eat me up, Uncle Jim.

Were you scared?

Says I.

No, because I had a big gun, says Joe.

And I shot the wolf dead, Uncle Jim.

Solid dead.

And then he went up to heaven and bit God, says he.

Well, I was fair staggered, mistress.

Blythe.

The hours bloomed into mirth around the driftwood fire.

Captain Jim told tales, and Marshall Elliott sang old Scotch ballads in a fine tenor voice.

Finally, Captain Jim took down his old brown fiddle from the wall and began to play.

He had a tolerable knack of fiddling which all appreciated save the first mate, who sprang from the sofa as if he had been shot, emitted a shriek of protest and fled wildly up the stairs.

Can cultivate an ear for music in.

That cat know how, said Captain Jim.

He won't stay long enough to learn to like it.

When he got the organ up at the Glenn church, old Elder Richards bounced.

Up from his seat the minute the.

Organist began to play and scuttled down the aisle and out of the church.

At the rate of no man's business.

It reminded me so strong of the.

First mate tearing loose as soon as.

I began to fiddle that I come nearer to laughing out loud in church than I ever did before or since.

There was something so infectious in the rollicking tunes which Captain Jim played, that very soon Marshall Elliott's feet began to twitch.

He had been a noted dancer in his youth.

Presently he started up and held out his hands to Leslie.

Instantly she responded round and round the firelit room.

They circled with a rhythmic grace.

That was wonderful.

Leslie danced like one inspired.

The wild, sweet abandon of the music seemed to have entered into and possessed her and watched her in fascinated admiration.

She had never seen her like this.

All the innate richness and color and charm of her nature seemed to have broken loose and overflowed in crimson cheek and glowing eye and grace of motion.

Even the aspect of Marshall Elliott with his long beard and hair could not spoil the picture.

On the contrary, it seemed to enhance it.

Marshall Elliott looked like a Viking of Elder days dancing with one of the blue eyed, golden haired daughters of the Northland.

The prettiest dancing I ever saw and.

I've seen in some time, declared Captain Jim.

When at last the bow fell from his tired hand, leslie dropped into her chair, laughing breathless.

I love dancing, she said apart to Anne.

I haven't danced since I was 16, but I love it.

The music seems to run through my veins.

Like quick silver, and I forget everything.

Everything except the delight of keeping time to it.

There isn't any floor beneath me, or walls about me, or roof over me.

I'm floating amid the stars.

Captain Jim hung his fiddle up in its place beside a large frame in closing several bank notes.

Is there anybody else of your acquaintance who can afford to hang his walls with bank notes for pictures?

He asked.

There's $20 notes there.

Not worth the glass over them.

They're old bank PE Island notes.

Had them buy me when the bank failed, and I had them framed and.

Hung up, partly as a reminder not.

To put your trust in banks and partly to give me a real, luxurious millionaire feeling.

Hello, Mady.

Don't be scared.

You can come back now.

Music and rivalry is over for tonight.

The old year is just another hour to stay with us.

I've seen 76 New Years come in over that golf yonder, Mr.

Splithe.

You'll see a hundred, said Marshall Elliott.

Captain Jim shook his head no, and I don't want to.

At least I think I don't.

Death grows, friendlier, as we grow older.

Not that one of us really wants to die, though.

Marshall Dennison spoke truth when he said that.

There's old Mrs.

Wallace up at the glen.

She had heaps of trouble all her life, poor soul, and she's lost almost everyone she cared about.

She's always saying that she'll be glad when her time comes, and she doesn't want to sojourn any longer in this veil of tears.

But when she takes a sick spell, there's a fuss doctors from town and a trained nurse and enough medicine to kill a dog.

Life may be a veil of tears, all right, but there are some folks who enjoy weeping.

I reckon.

They spent the old year's last hour quietly around to the fire.

A few minutes before twelve, Captain Jim rose and opened the door.

We must let the new Year in, he said.

Outside was a fine blue night.

A sparkling ribbon of moonlight garlanded the gulf.

Inside the bar, the harbor shone like a pavement of pearl.

They stood before the door and waited.

Captain Jim, with his ripe, full experience.

Marshall Elliott in his vigorous but empty metal life.

Gilbert and Anne, with their precious memories and exquisite hopes.

Leslie with her record of starved years and her hopeless future.

The clock on the little shelf above the fireplace struck twelve.

Welcome New Year, said Captain Jim, bowing low as the last stroke died away.

I wish you all the best year of your lives, mates.

I reckon that whatever the New Year brings us will be the best the great Captain has for us.

And somehow or other we'll all make poured in a good harbor.

Thank you for joining Bite at a Time Books today while we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlyle, and I hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite of Anne's House of Dreams.

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