Music Welcome to snoozecast.com. The podcast is designed to help you fall asleep. Find a said snoozecast.com and wherever you listen to podcasts, this episode is brought to you by a chilly autumn night. Tonight, we'll read the 29th chapter of Anne of Green Gables, the classic 1908 novel by Lucy Maud Montgomery. This chapter is titled An Epic of Anne's Life. the last episode, and her friends re-enact the poem The Lady of Charlotte by floating Anne down the river in a flat boat. She pretends to be the doomed Lily maid, but the boat begins to leak and sinks. Anne is forced to climb onto the bridge supports and wait for help. The Blithe happens to be in a rowboat and rescues her. Though still upset with him for past teasing, Anne reluctantly accepts the ride. Gilbert tries to reconcile and apologizes, but Anne coldly rebuffs him. Despite the dramatic mishap, Anne later admits the adventure was romantic. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. your body into the softness of your bed.

Now take a few deep breaths. Chapter 29 An epic in Anne's life. Anne was bringing the cows home from the back pasture by way of lovers' lane. It was a September evening, and all the gaps and clearings in the woods were brimmed up with ruby sunset light. Here and there, the lane was splashed with it, but for the most part, it was already quite shadowy beneath the maples, and the spaces under the furs were filled with a clear violet dusk like airy wine. The winds were out in their tops, and there is no sweeter music on earth than that, which the wind makes in the fur trees at evening. The cows swung placidly down the lane, and Anne followed them dreamily, repeating out loud the battle canto from Marmion, which had also been part of their English course the preceding winter, and which Miss Stacy had made them learn off by heart, and exulting and its rushing lines and the clash of spears in its imagery.

When she came to the lines, the stubborn spears men still made good, their dark, impenetrable wood. She stopped in ecstasy to shut her eyes that she might the better fancy herself one of the heroic ring. When she opened them again, it was to behold Diana, coming through the gate that led into the berry field, and looking so important that Anne instantly divine, there was news to be told. But betrayed to eager curiosity she would not. Isn't this evening just like a purple dream, Diana? It makes me so glad to be alive. In the mornings, I always think the mornings are the best, but when evening comes, I think it's lovely or still. It's a very fine evening," said Diana. But I have such news, Anne. Guess you can have three guesses. Charlotte Gillis is going to be married in the church after all, and Mrs. Allen wants us to decorate it. Said Anne. No, Charlotte's bow won't agree to that because nobody ever has been married in that church yet, and he thinks it would seem too much like a funeral. It's too mean, because it would be such fun. Guess again. Hmm. Jane's mother is going to let her have a birthday party. Diana shook her head. Her black eyes dancing with merriment. I can't think what it can be," said Anne, in despair. Unless it's that moody spurge in McPherson saw you home from prayer meeting last night. Diddy? I should think not. Exclaimed Diana. I wouldn't be likely to boast of it if he did. The horrid creature. I knew you couldn't guess it. Mother had a letter from Aunt Josephine today, and Aunt Josephine wants you and me to go to town next Tuesday and stop with her for the exhibition. There! Oh, Diana! Whispered Anne, finding it necessary to lean up against a maple tree for support. Do you really mean it? But I'm afraid Marilla won't let me go. She'll say that she can't encourage, gating about. That was what she said last week when Jane invited me to go with them and their double-seated buggy to the American concert at the White Sands Hotel. I wanted to go, but Marilla said I'd be better at home learning my lessons, and so would Jane. I was bitterly disappointed, Diana. I felt so heartbroken that I wouldn't say my prayers when I went to bed. But I repented of that and got up in the middle of the night and set them. I'll tell you, it's a Diana. We'll get Mother to ask Marilla. She'll be more likely to let you go then. And if she does, we'll have the time of our lives, Anne. I've never been to an exhibition. And it's so aggravating to hear the other girls talking about their trips. Jane and Ruby have been twice, and they're going this year again. I'm not going to think about it at all until I know whether I can go or not," said Ann, resolutely. If I did, and then was disappointed, it would be more than I could bear. But in case I do go, I'm very glad my new coat will be ready by that time. Marilla didn't think I needed a new coat. She said my old one would do very well for another winter, and that I ought to be satisfied with having a new dress. The dress is very pretty Diana, navy blue, and made so fashionably. Marilla always makes my dresses fashionably now, because she says she doesn't intend to have Matthew going to Mrs. Lind to make them. I'm so glad it is ever so much easier to be good if your clothes are fashionable, at least it is easier for me. I suppose it doesn't make such a difference to naturally good people, but Matthew said I must have a new coat. So I'm a real abot, a lovely piece of blue broad cloth, and it's being made by a real dressmaker over at Carmody. It's to be done Saturday night, and I'm trying not to imagine myself waking up the church aisle on Sunday in my new suit and cap, because I'm afraid it isn't right to imagine such things.

But it just slips into my mind, in spite of me. My cap is so pretty.

Matthew bought it for me the day we were over at Carmody. It is one of those little blue velvet

ones that are all the rage, with gold cord and tassels. Your new hat is elegant, Diana, and so becoming. When I saw you come into church last Sunday, my heart swelled with pride to think you were my dearest friend. Do you suppose it's wrong for us to think so much about our clothes? Marilla says it is very sinful, but it is such an interesting subject, isn't it? Marilla agreed to let Anne go to town, and it was arranged that Mr. Berry should take the girls in on the following Tuesday. A Charlotte town was 30 miles away, and Mr. Berry wished to go and return the same day. It was necessary to make a very early start, but Anne counted it all joy, and was up before sunrise on Tuesday morning. The glance from her window assured her that the day would be fine. For the eastern sky behind the furs of the haunted wood was all silvery and cloudless. Through the gap in the trees a light was shining in the western gable of orchard's slope. A token that Diana was also up. And was dressed by the time Matthew had the fire on and had the breakfast ready when Marilla came down, but for her own part was much too excited to eat. After breakfast, the John T. New Cap and Jacket were dawned, and Anne hastened over the brook and up through the first orchard slope. Mr. Barry and Diana were waiting for her, and they were soon on the road. It was a long drive, but Diana and Diana enjoyed every minute of it. It was delightful to rattle along over the moist roads in the early red sunlight that was creeping across the shorn harvest fields. The air was fresh and crisp, and the little smoke-bloom-mists curled through the valleys, and floated off from the hills. Sometimes the road went through woods where maples were beginning to hang out scarlet banners. Sometimes it crossed rivers on bridges that made ants flesh cringe with the old have delightful fear. Sometimes it wound along a harbor shore and passed by a little cluster of weather-gray fishing huts. Again, it mounted to hills once a far sweep of curving upland or misty blue sky could be seen. But wherever it went, there was much of interest to discuss. It was almost noon when they reached town and found their way to Beachwood. It was quite a final pension, set back from the street in a seclusion of green elms and branching beaches. Miss Barry met them at the door with a twinkle in her sharp black eyes. So, you've come to see me at last, you and girl?" She said, Mercy Child, how you have grown. Your taller than I am, I declare. And you're ever so much better looking than you used to be, too. But I dare say you know that without being told. "'Indeed, I didn't,' said Anne, radiantly. I know I'm not so freckled as I used to be, so I've much to be thankful for. But I really hadn't dared to hope there was any other improvement. I'm so glad you think there is, Miss Barry. Miss Barry's house was furnished with great magnificence as Anne told Marilla afterward. The two little country girls were rather abashed by the splendor of the parlor where Miss Barry left them when she went to see about dinner.

Isn't it just like a palace? Waspric Diana? I never was in Aunt Josephine's house before, and I'd no idea it was so grand. I just wish Julia Bell could see this. She puts on such ares about her mother's parlor. Felt carpet.

Side-and.

Look seriously. She puts on such ares about her mother's parlor. Felt carpet, side-and, luxuriously, and silk curtains. I've dreamed of such things, Diana, but to you know, I don't believe I feel very comfortable with them after all. There are so many things in this room, and also splendid that there is no scope for imagination. That is one consolation when you are poor. There are so many more things you can imagine about. There sojourn in town was something that Anne and Diana dated from for years. From first to last it was crowded with the lights. On Wednesday, Miss Berry took them to the exhibition grounds and kept them there all day. It was splendid. And related to Marilla later on, I never imagined anything so interesting. I don't really know which department was the most interesting. I think I like the horses and the flowers and the fancy work best. Josie Pie took first prize for Knitted Lace. I was really glad she did. And I was glad that I felt glad for its shows I'm improving. Don't you think? Marilla? When I can rejoice and Josie's success, Mr. Harmon Andrews took second prize for a Cravenstein apples. Mr. Bell took first prize for a pig. Diana said she thought it was ridiculous for a Sunday school superintendent to take a prize and pigs, but I don't think so. Do you? She said she would always think of it after this, when he was praying so solemnly. Clara Louise McPherson took a prize for painting, and Mrs. Lind got first prize for homemade butter and cheese. So, Avin Lee was pretty well represented, It wasn't it. Mrs. Lind was there that day, and I never knew how much I really liked her until I saw her familiar face among all those strangers. There were thousands of people there, Marilla. It made me feel dreadfully insignificant, and Ms. Barry took us up to the grandstand to see the horse races. Mrs. Lind wouldn't go. She said horse racing wasn't abomination, and she being a church member thought it was bound in duty to set a good example by staying away. But there were so many there I don't believe Mrs. Lynn's absence would ever be noticed. I don't think though that I ought to go very often to horse races, because they are awfully fascinating. Diana got so excited that she offered to bet me ten cents that the Red Horse would win. I didn't believe he would, but I refused to bet, because I wanted to tell Mrs. Allen all about everything, and I felt sure it wouldn't do to tell her that. It's always wrong to do anything you can't tell the minister's wife. It's as good as an extra conscious to have a minister's wife for your friend, and I was very glad I didn't bet, because the Red Horse did win, and I would have lost tonsense. So you see that virtue was its own reward. We saw a man go up in a balloon. I'd love to go up in a balloon, Marilla. It would be simply thrilling. And we saw a man selling fortunes. You paid him ten cents and a little bird picked out your fortune for you. Miss Barry gave Diana and me ten cents each to have our fortunes told. Mine was that I would marry a dark, complexed man who was very wealthy, and I would go across water to live. Oh, it wasn't never to be forgotten, Day Marilla. I was so tired I couldn't sleep at night. Miss Barry put us in the spare room, according to promise. It was an elegant room, Marilla, but somehow sleeping in a spare room isn't what I used to think it was. That's the worst of growing up, and I've been getting to realize it. The things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so wonderful to you when you get them. Thursday the girls had a drive in the park, and in the evening Miss Barry took them to to a concert in the Academy of Music, where a noted prima donna was to sing. To hand, the evening was a glittering vision of delight. Oh Marilla, it was beyond description. I was so excited I couldn't even talk, so you me know what it was like. I just sat in and raptured silence. Madame Slitsky was perfectly beautiful and wore white satin and diamonds, but when she began to sing, I never thought about anything else. Oh, I can't tell you how I felt, but it seemed to me that it could never be hard to be good anymore. I felt like I'd do when I look up to the stars. Tears came into my eyes, but they were such happy tears. I was so sorry when it was all over, and I told Miss Barry I didn't see how I was ever to return to common life again. She said she thought if we went over to the restaurant across the street and had an ice cream, it might help me. That sounded so prosaic, but to my surprise I found it true. ice cream delicious, and it was so lovely and dissipated to be sitting there, eating it at 11 o'clock at night. Diana said she believed she was born for a city life. Ms. Barry asked me what my opinion was, but I said I would have to think it over very seriously before I could tell her what I really thought. So I thought it over after I went to bed. That is the best time to think things. And I came to the conclusion Marilla that I wasn't born for city life, and that I was glad of it. It's nice to be eating ice cream at brilliant restaurants at 11 o'clock at night once in a while. But as a regular thing, I'd rather be in the East Gable at 11. Sound asleep, but kind of knowing even in my sleep that the stars were shining outside, and that the wind was blowing in the fur as across the brook. I told Miss Barry so at breakfast the next morning, and she laughed. The spary generally laughed at anything I said, even when I said the most solemn things. I don't think I liked it, Marilla, because I wasn't trying to be funny. But she is a most hospitable lady and treated us royally. Friday brought going home time and Mr. Barry drove in for the girls. Well, I hope you've enjoyed yourselves," said Miss Barry, as she paid them goodbye. Indeed, we have," said Diana. And you and girl, I've enjoyed every minute of the time," said Anne, throwing her arms impulsively about the old woman's neck and kissing her wrinkled cheek. Diana would never have dared to do such a thing and felt rather a gas that Anne's freedom. But Miss Barry was pleased, and she stood on her veranda and watched the buggy out of sight. Then she went back into her big house with a sigh. It seemed very lonely, lacking those fresh young lives. Miss Barry was a rather selfish old lady if the truth must be told, and had never cared much for anybody but herself. She valued people only as they were of service

to her or amused her and had amused her and consequently stood high in the old ladies good graces. But Miss Barry found herself thinking less about Anne's quaint speeches than of her fresh enthusiasm, her transparent emotions, her little winning ways, and the sweetness of her eyes and lips. And I thought Marilla Cuthbert was an old fool when I heard she adopted a girl out of an orphan asylum. She said to herself, but I guess she didn't make much of a mistake after all. If I had a child like Anne in the house all the time, I'd be a better and happier woman. Anne and Diana found the drive home as pleasant as the drive in. Pleasanter indeed, since there was the delightful consciousness of home waiting at the end of it, it was sunset when they passed through white sands and turned into the shore road. Beyond, the hills came out darkly against the saffron sky. Behind them the moon was rising out of the sea that grew all radiant and transfigured in her light. Every little cove along the curving road was a marvel of dancing ripples. The waves broke with a soft swish on the rocks below them, and the tang of the sea was in the strong fresh air. Oh, but it's good to be alive and to be going home. Breathe, then. When she crossed the long bridge over the brook, the kitchen light of green gables winked her friendly welcome back, and through open door shown the hearth fire sending out its warm red glow and ran lightly up the hill and into the kitchen where hot supper was waiting on the table so you've got back said Marilla folding up her knitting. Yes, and oh, it's so good to be back. Said Anne joyously. I could kiss everything. Even the clock. Marilla, a broiled chicken. You don't mean to say you cooked that for me." Yes, my did," said Marilla. I thought you'd be hungry after such a drive and eat something real appetizing. Hurry and take off your things and we'll have supper as soon as Matthew comes in. I'm glad you've got back, I must say. It's been fearful, lonesome here without you. And I never put in four longer days. After supper, Anne sat before the fire between Matthew and Marilla, and gave them a full account of her visit. I've had a splendid time. She concluded happily.

And I feel that it marks an epic in my life.

But the best of it all was the coming home. Yn yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n y