Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the thirty-fifth chapter of Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery.

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Welcome to Bite at a Time Books, where we read you your favorite classics one byte at a time.

My name is Brie Carlyle and I love to read and wanted to share my passion with listeners like you.

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We are currently running a contest on our social media for the duration of season ten to win a copy of the complete Anif Green Gables series.

Today we will be continuing Anif Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery chapter 35 the winter at Queens Anne's homesickness wore off greatly, helped in the wearing by her weekend visits home as long as the open weather lasted.

The Avonlea students went out to comedy on the New Branch railway every Friday night.

Diana and several other avenlee young folks were generally on hand to meet them, and they all walked over to Avon Lee in a merry party and bought those Friday evening gypsies over the autumnal hills in the crisp golden air with the HomeLights of Avon Lee twinkling.

Beyond were the best and dearest hours in the whole week.

Gilbert Blithes.

Nearly always walked with Ruby Gillis and carried her satchel for her.

Ruby was a very handsome young lady now, thinking herself quite as grown up as she really was.

She wore her skirts as long as her mother would let her, and did her hair up in town, though she had to take it down when she went home.

She had large, bright blue eyes, a brilliant complexion, and a plump, showy figure.

She laughed a great deal, was cheerful and good tempered, and enjoyed the pleasant things of life, frankly.

But I shouldn't think she was the sort of girl Gilbert would like, whispered Jane to Anne Ann.

Anne did not think so either, but she would not have said so for the Avery scholarship.

She could not help thinking, too, that it would be very pleasant to have such a friend as Gilbert to Justin chatter with and exchange ideas about books and studies and ambitions.

Gilbert had ambitions, she knew, and Ruby Gillis did not seem the sort of person with whom such could be profitably discussed.

There was no silly sentiment in Anne's ideas concerning Gilbert.

Boys were to her when she thought about them at all, merely possible good comrades.

If she and Gilbert had been friends, she would not have cared how many other friends he had, nor with whom he walked.

She had a genius for friendship.

Girlfriends she had in plenty.

But she had a vague consciousness that masculine friendship might also be a good thing to round out one's conceptions of companionship and furnish broader standpoints of judgment and comparison.

Not that Anne could have put her feelings on the matter into just such clear definition, but she thought that if Gilbert had ever walked home with her from the train over the crisp fields and along the Fernie byways, they might have had many and merry and interesting conversations about the new world that was opening around them and their hopes and ambitions therein.

Gilbert was a clever young fellow with his own thoughts about things and a determination to get the best out of life and put the best into it.

Ruby Gillis told Jane Andrews that she didn't understand half the things Gilbert Blythe said.

He talked just like Anne Shirley did when she had a thoughtful fit on.

And for her part, she didn't think it any fun to be bothering about books and that sort of thing when you didn't have to.

Frank Stockly had lots more dash and go, but then he wasn't half as good looking as Gilbert, and she really couldn't decide what she liked best.

In the Academy, anne gradually drew a little circle of friends about her thoughtful, imaginative, ambitious students like herself with the rose red girl, Stella Maynard, and the dream girl Priscilla Grant.

She soon became intimate, finding the latter pale, spiritual looking maiden to be fooled to the brim of mischief and pranks and fun, while the vivid blackeyed Stella had a heart full of wistful dreams and fancies as Ariel and rainbowlike as Anne's own.

After the Christmas holidays, the Avonlea students gave up going home on Fridays and settled down to hard work.

By this time, all the Queen's scholars had gravitated into their own places in the ranks and the various classes had assumed distinct and settled shadings of individuality.

Certain facts had become generally accepted.

It was admitted that the metal contestants had practically narrowed down to three gilbert Blive and Shirley and Louis Wilson.

The Avery scholarship was more doubtful, any one of a certain six being a possible winner.

The bronze medal for mathematics was considered as good as won by a fat, funny little up country boy with a bumpy forehead and a patched coat.

Ruby Gillis was the handsomest girl of the year at the Academy.

In the second year classes, Stella Maynard carried off the palm for beauty, with small but critical minority in favor of Anne Shirley.

Ethelmar was admitted by all competent judges to have the most stylish modes of hairdressing and Jane Andrews plain plotting conscientious jane carried off the honors in the domestic science course.

Even Josie Pi attained a certain preeminence at the sharpest tongued young lady in attendance at Queens.

So it may be fairly stated that Miss Stacy's old pupils held their own.

In the wider arena of the academical course, anne worked hard and steadily.

Her rivalry with Gilbert was as intense as it had ever been in Avonlea School, although it was not known in the class at large.

But somehow the bitterness had gone out of it and no longer wished to win for the sake of defeating Gilbert, rather for the proud consciousness of a wellworn victory over a worthy FOEMAN.

It would be worthwhile to win.

But she no longer thought life would be insupportable if she did not.

In spite of lessons, the students found opportunities for pleasant times.

Anne spent many of her spare hours at Beechwood and generally ate her Sunday dinners there and went to church with Miss Barry.

The latter was, as she admitted, growing old.

But her black eyes were not dim, nor the vigor of her tongue in the least abated.

But she never sharpened the latter on Anne, who continued to be a prime favorite with the critical old lady.

That Anne girl improves all the time, she said.

I get tired of other girls.

There's such a provoking and eternal sameness about them.

Anne has as many shades as a rainbow, and every shade is the prettiest while it lasts.

I don't know that she's as amusing as she was when she was a child, but she makes me love her, and I like people who make me love them.

It saves me so much trouble in making myself love them.

Then, almost before anybody realized it, spring had come out in Avonlea.

The mayflowers were peeping pinkly out on the sear barons where snow reefs lingered, and the mist of green was on the woods and in the valleys.

But in Charlotte town, harassed queen students thought and talked only of examinations.

It doesn't seem possible that the term is nearly over, said Anne.

Why, last fall it seemed so long to look forward to a whole winter of studies and classes, and here we are with the exams looming up next week.

Girls.

Sometimes I feel as if those exams meant everything.

But when I look at the big bud swelling on those chestnut trees and the misty blue air at the end of the streets, they don't seem half so important.

Jane and Ruby and Josie, who had dropped in, did not take this view of it.

To them, the coming examinations were constantly very important indeed, far more important than chestnut buds or maytime hazes.

It was all very well for Anne, who was sure of passing at least to have her moments of belittling them.

But when your whole future depended on them, as the girls truly thought theirs did, you could not regard them philosophically.

I've lost £7 in the last two weeks, sighed Jane.

It's no use to say, don't worry.

I will worry.

Worrying helps you some.

It seems as if you were doing something when you're worrying.

It would be dreadful if I failed to get my license after going to Queens all winter and spending so much money.

I don't care, said Josie Pi.

If I don't pass this year, I'm coming back next.

My father can afford to send me, and Frank Stockley says that Professor Tremaine said Gilbert Blythe was sure to get the medal and that Emily Clay would likely win the Avery scholarship.

That may make me feel badly tomorrow, Josie, laughed Anne.

But just now I honestly feel that as long as I know the violets are coming out all purple down in the hollow below Green Gables, and that little ferns are poking their heads up in Lovers Lane, it's not a great deal of difference whether I win the Avery or not.

I've done my best, and I begin to understand what is meant by the joy of the strife.

Next to trying and winning, the best thing is trying and failing.

Girls, don't talk about exams.

Look at that arch of pale green sky over those houses, and picture to yourself what it must look like over the purpley dark beechwoods back of Avonlea.

What are you going to wear for commencement?

Jane asked Ruby.

Practically.

Jane and Josie both answered at once, and the chatter drifted into a side eddie of fashions.

But Anne, with her elbows on the window so, her soft cheek laid against her clasped hands, and her eyes filled with visions, looked out unheedingly across the city roof, inspired to that glorious dome of sunset sky, and wove her dreams of a possible future from the golden tissue of youth's own optimism.

All the beyond was hers, with its possibilities lurking rosalie.

In the upcoming years, each arose of promise to be woven into an immortal chaplain.

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

If you enjoy our show, be sure to follow us so you get all the new episodes.

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We would also love for you to drop us a rating on your favorite podcast platform and share our show with your friends.

You can catch us on all the social medias at Bite at a Time Books.

We are currently running a contest on our social media for the duration of season ten to win a copy of the Complete Anne of Green Gables series.

Again, my name is Brie Carlyle, and I hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite of Anna's Green Gables.