Rainbow Valley, Part 6 of 15

Thanks for listening tonight. If you'd like to listen out free and get access to exclusive bonus episodes, check out our Sleepy Bookshelf premium feed in the show notes. Hello, it's Elizabeth, and I'm excited to share with you the newest show from Slumber Studios. It's called Sleepy History, and it's exactly what it sounds like. Intriguing stories, people, mysteries and events from history, delivered in a supremely calming atmosphere. Explore the legend of El Dorado. See what life was like for the Roman gladiators. Uncover the myths and mysteries of Stonehenge. You'll find interesting but relaxing episodes like these on Sleepy History. and the same great production quality you've come to know and love from The Sleepy Bookshelf. So check it out, and perhaps you'll have another way to get a good night's rest. Just search Sleepy History in your preferred podcast player. Good evening, and welcome to The Sleepy Bookshelf, where we put down our worries from the day and pick up a good book. I'm your host, Elizabeth. Thank you so much for coming along this evening. Tonight we are continuing with Rainbow Valley. But before we do, let's take some time to put the day behind us. Imagine you are taking a walk, like the Ingleside children, through their favourite spots in Four Winds. Perhaps that's Rainbow Valley, with the bells gently tinkling on the tree lovers, or down the shore at Four Winds Harbour. Wherever you are in your mind, I'll give you some time to think about what you can see all around you. Try to see your surroundings from Anne's perspective and choose to delight in the details. Take a deep breath in and imagine what you can smell When you exhale, come to a stillness and now focus on what you might hear Stay where you are in your mind as I recap our last episode Miss Cornelia convinced the minister to contact the authorities about Mary as soon as possible to find her an appropriate, permanent home In the meantime, Mary cried herself to sleep which troubled Una to leave the manse one evening to Miss Cornelia's house After two doughnuts on her veranda Una asked if Miss Cornelia would not take in Mary herself. And Miss Cornelia, or Mrs. Elliot, as she should really be called, promised to discuss it with Marshall, her husband. He agreed immediately with seemingly no thought, and Miss Cornelia announced her decision at Ingleside the next day. The Mance children missed having Mary around. One weekend in summer, their father was away with Jem for a few days, and Aunt Martha fell ill with what she called the miseries. Carl also caught a fever and was in bed, which left Faith and Una to themselves. They managed to confuse their days and thought Saturday was Sunday, and wondered a little at why no one had come to Sunday school. The next day, they decided to clean the house. So, while they thought they were cleaning on a Monday, Faith was actually spotted beating rugs in the Methodist graveyard on Sunday morning to the horror of the people of the Glen. Days of more rain followed, and eventually Aunt Martha and Carl got better. but no one knew about the terrible stories flying around about the manse children. And that is where we pick up tonight. So just lie back and relax as I turn to the next pages of Rainbow Valley. Chapter 11 A Dreadful Discovery Well, you kids have gone and done it now, was Mary's greeting as she joined them in the valley. Miss Cornelia was up at Ingleside, holding agonized conclave with Anne and Susan, and Mary hoped that the session might be a long one, for it was all of two weeks since she had been allowed to revel with her chums in the dear valley of rainbows. Done what? demanded everybody but Walter, who was daydreaming as usual. It's you manse young ones, I mean, said Mary. It was just awful of you. I wouldn't have done such a thing for the world, and I weren't brought up in a manse. Weren't brought up anywhere. Just come up. What have we done? asked Fee, blankly. None? You'd better ask. The talk is something terrible. I expect it's ruined your father in this congregation. He'll never be able to live it down, poor man. Everybody blames him for it, and that isn't fair. But nothing is fair in this world. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves. What have we done? asked Una again, despairingly. Faith said nothing, but her eyes flashed golden brown scorn at Mary. Oh, don't pretend innocence, said Mary witheringly. Everybody knows what you have done. I don't, interjected Jem Blythe indignantly. Don't let me catch you making Una cry, Mary Vance. What are you talking about? I suppose you don't know, since you're just back from up west, said Mary, somewhat subdued. Jem could always manage her. But everybody else knows, you better believe. Knows what? That Faith and Una stayed home from Sunday school last Sunday and cleaned house. We didn't, cried Faith and Una in passionate denial. Mary looked haughtily at them. I didn't suppose you'd deny it after the way you've combed me down for lying, she said. What's the good of saying you didn't? Everybody knows you did. Elder Clown and his wife saw you. Some people say it will break up the church, but I don't go that far. You are nice ones. Nan Blythe stood up and put her arms around the dazed Faith and Doona. They were nice enough to take you in and feed you and clothe you when you were starving in Mr. Taylor's barn, Mary Vance, she said. You are very grateful, I must say. I am grateful, retorted Mary You'd know it if you heard me standing up for Mr Meredith through thick and thin I've blistered my tongue talking of him this week I've said again and again that he isn't to blame if his young ones did clean us on a Sunday He was away and they knew better But we didn't, protested Una It was Monday We cleaned house at... Wasn't it, Faith? Of course it was, said Faith with flashing eyes. We went to Sunday school in spite of the rain and no one came, not even Elder Abraham for all his talk about fair-weather Christians. It was Saturday it rained, said Mary. Sunday was as fine as silk. I wasn't at Sunday school because I had a toothache, but everyone else was and they saw all your stuff out on the lawn and Elder Abraham and Mrs. Elder Abraham saw you shaking rugs in the graveyard. Una sat down among the daisies and began to cry. Look here, said Jem resolutely. This thing must be cleared up. Somebody has made a mistake. Sunday was fine, Faith. How could you have thought Saturday was Sunday? Prayer meeting was Thursday night, cried Faith. And Adam flew into the soup pot on Friday when Aunt Martha's cat chased him and spoiled our dinner. And Saturday there was a snake in the cellar and Carl caught it with a forked stick and carried it out. And Sunday it rained. So there. Prayer meeting was Wednesday night said Mary Elder Baxter was to lead and he couldn go Thursday night and it was changed to Wednesday You were just a day out Faith Meredith and you did work on Sunday Suddenly, Faith burst into a peal of laughter. I suppose we did. What a joke. It isn't much of a joke for your father. said Mary sourly. It'll be all right when people find out it was just a mistake, said Faith carelessly. We'll explain. You can explain till you're black in the face, said Mary, but a lie like that will travel faster and further than you ever will. I've seen more of the world than you and I know. Besides, there are plenty of folks who won't believe it was a mistake. They will if I tell them, said Faith. You can't tell everybody, said Mary. No, I tell you, you've disgraced your father. Una's evening was spoiled by this dire reflection, but Faith refused to be made uncomfortable. Besides, she had a plan that would put everything right. So, she put the past with its mistake behind her and gave herself over to enjoyment of the present. Jem went away to fish, and Walter came out of his reverie and proceeded to describe the woods of heaven. Mary pricked up her ears and listened respectfully. Despite her awe of Walter, she reveled in his book talk. It always gave her delightful sensation. Walter had been reading his Coleridge that day, and he pictured a heaven where there were gardens bright with sinuous rills where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree, and there were forests, ancient as the hills, enfolding sunny spots of greenery. I didn't know there was any woods in heaven, said Mary with a long breath. I thought it was all streets and streets and streets. Of course there are woods, said Nan. Mother can't live without trees and I can't, so what would be the use of going to heaven if there weren't any trees? There are cities too, said the young dreamer. Splendid cities, coloured just like the sunset, with sapphire towers and rainbow domes. They are built of gold and diamonds, whole streets of diamonds, flashing like the sun. In the squares, there are crystal fountains, kissed by the light, and everywhere the asphodel blooms, the flower of heaven. Fancy, said Mary I saw the main street in Charlottetown once and I thought it was real grand but I suppose it's nothing to heaven Well it all sounds gorgeous the way you tell it but won't it be kind of dull too? Oh I guess we can have some fun when the angels' backs are turned said Faith comfortably Heaven is all fun, declared Di The Bible doesn't say so, cried Mary, who had read so much of the Bible on Sunday afternoons under Miss Cornelia's eye that she now considered herself quite an authority on it. Mother says the Bible language is figurative, said Nan. Does that mean that it isn't true? asked Mary, hopefully. No, not exactly, but I think it means that heaven will be just like what you'd like it to be. I'd like it to be just like Rainbow Valley, said Mary, with all you kids to gas and play with. That's good enough for me. Anyhow, we can't go to heaven till we're dead, and maybe not then, so what's the use of worrying? Here's Jen with a string of trout and it's my turn to fry them. We ought to know more about heaven than Walter does when we're the minister's family, said Una as they walked home that night. We know just as much, but Walter can imagine, said Faye. Mrs Elliot says he gets it from his mother. I do wish we hadn't made that mistake about Sunday, Una sighed. Don't worry over that. I've thought of a great plan to explain so that everybody will know, said Faith. Just wait till tomorrow night. Chapter 12 An Explanation and a Dare The Reverend Dr. Cooper preached in Glen St. Mary the next evening, and the Presbyterian Church was crowded with people from near and far. The Reverend Dr. was reputed to be a very eloquent speaker, and, bearing in mind the old dictum that a minister should take his best clothes to the city and his best sermons to the country, he delivered a very scholarly and very impressive discourse. But when the folks went home that night, it was not of Dr. Cooper's sermon they talked. They had completely forgotten all about it. Dr. Cooper had concluded with a fervent appeal, had wiped the perspiration from his massive brow, had said, let us pray, as he was famed for saying it, and had duly prayed. There was a slight pause. In Glen St. Mary Church, the old fashion of taking the collection after the sermon instead of before still held, mainly because the Methodists had adopted the new fashion first, and Miss Cornelia and Elder Clough would not hear of following where Methodists had led. Charles Baxter and Thomas Douglas, whose duty it was to pass the plates, were on the point of rising to their feet. The organist had got out the music of her anthem, and the choir had cleared its throat. Suddenly, Faith Meredith rose in the man's pew, walked up to the pulpit platform, and faced the amazed audience. Miss Cornelia half rose in her seat and then sat down again. Her pew was far back, and it occurred to her that whatever Faith meant to do or say would be half done or said before she could reach her. There was no use making the exhibition worse than it had to be. With an anguished glance at Mrs. Dr. Bly and another at Deacon Warren of the Methodist Church, Miss Cornelia resigned herself to another scandal. Oh, if the child was only dressed decently itself, she groaned in spirit. Faith, having spilled ink on her good dress, had serenely put on an old one of faded pink print. A catacorned rent in the skirt had been darned with scarlet tracing cotton, and the hem had been let down, showing a bright strip of unfaded pink around the skirt. But Faith was not thinking of her clothes at all. She was feeling suddenly nervous. What had seemed easy in imagination was rather hard in reality. Confronted by all those staring, questioning eyes, Faith's courage almost failed her. The lights were so bright, the silence so awesome. She thought she could not speak after all. But she must. Her father must be cleared of suspicion. Only the words would not come. Una's little pearl-pure face gleamed up at her beseechingly from the man's pew. The Blythe children were lost in amazement. Back under the gallery, Faith saw the sweet graciousness of Miss Rosemary West's smile. and the amusement of Miss Ellen's. But none of these helped her. It was Bertie Shakespeare Drew who saved the situation. Bertie Shakespeare sat in the front seat of the gallery, and he made a derisive face at Faith. Faith promptly made a dreadful one back at him, and in her anger over being grimaced at by Bertie Shakespeare forgot her stage fright. She found her voice and spoke out clearly and bravely. I want to explain something, she said, and I want to do it now because everybody will hear it that heard the other. People are saying that Una and I stayed home last Sunday and cleaned house instead of going to Sunday school Well we did but we didn mean to We got mixed up in the days of the week It was all Elder Baxter fault Sensation in Baxter pew. Because he went and changed the prayer meeting to Wednesday night, and then we thought Thursday was Friday and so on, until we thought Saturday was Sunday. Carl was laid up sick, and so was Aunt Martha, so they couldn't put us right. We went to Sunday school in all that rain on Saturday and nobody came. And then we thought we'd clean house on Monday and stop old cats from talking about how dirty the manse was. General sensation all over the church. And we did. And I shook rugs in the Methodist graveyard because it was such a convenient place and not because I'm meant to be disrespectful of the dead. It isn't the dead folks who have made the fuss over this. It's the living folks. And it isn't right for any of you to blame my father for this because he was away and didn't know. And anyhow, we thought it was Monday. He's just the best father that ever lived in the world and we love him with all our hearts. Faith's bravado ebbed out in a sob. She ran down the steps and flashed out of the side door of the church. There, the friendly, starlit summer night comforted her, and the ache went out of her eyes and throat. She felt very happy. The dreadful explanation was over, and everybody knew now that her father wasn't to blame, and that she and Una were not so wicked as to have cleaned house, knowingly on Sunday. Inside the church, people gazed blankly at each other, but Thomas Douglas rose and walked up the aisle with a set face. His duty was clear. The collection must be taken if the skies fell. Taken it was. The choir sang the anthem with a dismal conviction that it fell terribly flat, and Dr. Cooper gave out the concluding hymn and pronounced the benediction with considerably less unction than usual. The Reverend Doctor had a sense of humor, and Faith's performance tickled him. Besides, John Meredith was well known in Presbyterian circles. Mr. Meredith returned home the next afternoon, but before his coming, Faith contrived to scandalize Glen St. Mary again. In the reaction from Sunday evening's intensity and strain, she was especially full of what Miss Cornelia would have called devilment on Monday. This led her to dare Walter Bly to ride through Main Street on a pig while she rode another one. The pigs in question were two tall, lank animals supposed to belong to Bertie Shakespeare Drew's father, which had been haunting the roadside by the manse for a couple of weeks. Walter did not want to ride a pig through Glen St. Mary, but whatever Faith Meredith dared him to do must be done. They tore down the hill and through the village. Faith bent double with laughter over her terrified courser, Walter, crimson with shame. They tore past the minister himself, just coming home from the station, he being a little less dreamy and abstracted than usual, owing to having had a talk on the train with Miss Cornelia, who always wakened him up temporarily. Noticed them and thought he really must speak to Faith about it and tell her that such conduct was not seemly. but he had forgotten the trifling incident by the time he reached home. They passed Mrs. Alec Davis, who shrieked in horror, and they passed Miss Rosemary West, who laughed and sighed. Finally, just before the pigs swooped into Bertie Shakespeare Drew's backyard, never to emerge there from again, so great had been the shock to their nerves, Faith and Walter jumped off as Dr. and Mrs. Bly drove swiftly by. So that is how you bring up your boys, said Gilbert with mock severity. Perhaps I do spoil them a little, said Anne contrivedly. But, oh Gilbert, when I think of my own childhood before I came to Green Gables, I haven't the heart to be very strict. How hungry for love and fun I was. An unloved little drudge with never a chance to play. They do have such good times with the manse children. What about the poor pigs? asked Gilbert. Anne tried to look sober and failed. Do you really think it hurt them? she said. I don't think anything could hurt those animals. They've been the plague of the neighbourhoods this summer and the Drews won't shut them up. But I'll talk to Walter, if I can keep from laughing when I do it. Miss Cornelia came up to Ingleside that evening to relieve her feelings over Sunday night. To her surprise, she found that Anne did not view Faith's performance in quite the same light as she did. I thought there was something brave and pathetic in her getting up there before that church full of people to confess, she said. You could see she was frightened to death, yet she was bound to clear her father. I loved her for it. Now, of course, the poor child meant well, sighed Miss Cornelia. But just the same, it was a terrible thing to do. And it's making more talk than the house cleaning on Sunday. That had begun to die away, and this has started it all up again. Rosemary West is like you. She said last night as she left the church that it was a plucky thing for Faith to do, but it made her feel sorry for the child too. Miss Ellen thought it all a good joke, and said she hadn't had as much fun in church for years. Of course, they don't care, they're Episcopalians. but we Presbyterians feel it, and there were so many hotel people there that night, and scores of Methodists. Mrs. Leander Crawford cried she felt so bad, and Mrs. Alec Davis said the little hussy ought to be spanked. Mrs. Leander Crawford is always crying in church, said Susan contemptuously. She cries over every affecting thing the minister says. but you do not often see her name on a subscription list, Mrs. Dr. D. Tears come cheaper. She tried to talk to me one day about Aunt Martha being such a dirty housekeeper, and I wanted to say, everyone knows that you have been seen mixing up cakes in the kitchen washpan, Mrs. Leander Crawford. But I did not say it, Mrs. Dr. D, because I have too much respect for myself to condescend to argue with the likes of her. But I could tell worse things than that of Mrs. Leander Crawford if I was disposed to gossip. And as for Mrs. Alec Davis, if she'd said that to me, Mrs. Doctor, do you know what I would have said? I would have said, I have no doubt you would like to spank Faith, Mrs. Davis, but you will never have the chance to spank a minister's daughter either in this world or in that which is to come. If poor Faith had only been decently dressed, lamented Miss Cornelia again, it wouldn't have been quite that bad, but that dress looked dreadful as she stood there upon the platform. It was clean now, Mrs. Dr. Deer, said Susan. They are clean children. They may be very heedless and reckless, Mrs. Dr. Deer, and I am not saying they are not. But they never forget to wash beyond their ears. The idea of faith forgetting what day was Sunday, persisted Miss Cornelia. She will grow up just as careless and impractical as her father believed me. I suppose Carl would have known better if he hadn't been sick. I don't know what was wrong with him, but I think it very likely he had been eating those blueberries that grew in the graveyard. No wonder they made him sick. If I was a Methodist, I'd try to keep my graveyard cleaned up at least. I'm of the opinion that Carl only ate the sours that grow on the dyke, said Susan hopefully. I do not think any ministers' sun would eat blueberries that grew on the graves of dead people. You know, it would not be so bad, Mrs. Dr. Deer, to eat things that grew on the dyke. The worst of last night's performance was the face Faith made at somebody in the congregation before she started, said Miss Cornelia. Elder Cloud declares she made it at him, and did you hear that she was seen riding on a pig today? I saw her Walter was with her I gave him a little a very little scolding about it He did not say much but he gave me the impression that it had been his idea and that Faith was not to blame. I do not believe that, Mrs. Dr. dear, cried Susan up in arms. That is just Walter's way to take the blame on himself. But you know, as well as I do, Mrs. Doctor Dear, that that blessed child would never have thought of riding on a pig, even if he does write poetry. Oh, there is no doubt the notion was hatched in Faith Meredith's brain, said Miss Cornelia. And I don't say that I'm sorry that Amos Drew's old pigs did get their comeuppance for once. But the minister's daughter. And the doctor's son, said Anne, mimicking Miss Cornelia's tone. Then she laughed. Dear Miss Cornelia, they are only little children, and you know they've never yet done anything bad. They're just heedless and impulsive, as I was myself once. They'll grow sedate and sober, as I've done. Miss Cornelia laughed too. There are times, Anne, dearie, when I know by your eyes that your soberness is put on like a garment, and you're really aching to do something wild and young again. Oh, well, I feel encouraged. Somehow a talk with you always does have that effect on me. Now, when I go to see Barbara Samson, it's just the opposite. She makes me feel that everything's wrong and always will be. But of course, living all your life with a man like Joe Samson wouldn't be exactly cheering. It's a very strange thing to think that she married Joe Sampson after all her chances, remarked Susan. She was much sought after when she was a girl. She used to boast to me that she had twenty-one bows and Mr. Pethick. What was Mr. Pethick? Well, he was a sort of hanger-on, Mrs. Dr. Dear, but you could not exactly call him a bow. He did not really have any intentions. Twenty-one bows and me that never had one. But Barbara went through the woods and picked up the crooked stick after all. And yet they say her husband can make better baking powder biscuits than she can, and she always gets him to make them when company comes to tea. Which reminds me that I have company coming to tea tomorrow, and I must go home and set my bread, said Miss Cornelia. Mary said she could set it, and no doubt she could, but while I live and move, and I have my being, I set my own bread, believe me. How is Mary getting on? asked Anne. I've no fault with Mary, said Miss Cornelia rather gloomily. She's getting some flesh on her bones and she's clean and respectable, though there's more in her than I can fathom. She's a sly puss. If you dug for a thousand years you couldn't get to the bottom of that child's mind, believe me. As for work, I've never saw anything like her. She eats it up. Mrs. Wiley may have been cruel to her, but folks needn't say that she made Mary work. Mary's a born worker. Sometimes I wonder which will wear out first, her legs or her tongue. I don't have enough to do to keep me out of mischief these days. I'll be real glad when school opens, for then I'll have something to do again. Mary doesn't want to go to school, but I put my foot down and said that go she must. I shall not have the Methodists, saying that I kept her out of school while I lolled in idleness. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.