CHAPTER 16
NEW YEAR’S EVE AT THE LIGHT
The Green Gables folk went home after Christmas, Marilla under solemn covenant1 to return for a month in the spring. More snow came before New Year’s, and the harbor froze over, but the gulf2 still was free, beyond the white, imprisoned3 fields. The last day of the old year was one of those bright, cold, dazzling winter days, which bombard us with their brilliancy, and command our admiration4 but never our love. The sky was sharp and blue; the snow diamonds sparkled insistently5; the stark6 trees were bare and shameless, with a kind of brazen7 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 splendor8; 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 elusive9 mistiness10 in that searching glitter. The only things that held their own individuality were the firs—for the fir is the tree of mystery and shadow, and yields never to the encroachments of crude radiance.
But finally the day began to realise that she was growing old. Then a certain pensiveness11 fell over her beauty which dimmed yet intensified12 it; sharp angles, glittering points, melted away into curves and enticing13 gleams. The white harbor put on soft grays and pinks; the far-away hills turned amethyst14.
“The old year is going away beautifully,” said Anne.
She and Leslie and Gilbert were on their way to the Four Winds Point, having plotted 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 drawn15 as near to her earth-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 is white snow to reveal it, and then only with averted16 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 spoke17 rather hardly; perhaps she thought that even the shadow of Venus could bring her no gift of life. Anne smiled in the soft twilight18; she felt quite sure what the mystic shadow promised her.
They found Marshall Elliott 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 legitimate19 claim to membership in the household of Joseph. He was a witty20, intelligent, well-read man, rivalling Captain Jim himself in the knack21 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 Year’s 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 Blythe. 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, afore he went to sleep. As for his imagination, it sails away from everything. He makes up the most remarkable22 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, solemn as a tombstone, 'I had a ’venture in the Glen today.’ 'Yes, what was it?’ says I, expecting something quite startling, but nowise prepared for what I really got. 'I met a wolf in the street,’ says he, 'a ’normous wolf with a big, red mouf and AWFUL long teeth, Uncle Jim.’ 'I didn’t know there was any wolves up at the Glen,’ says I. 'Oh, he comed there from far, far away,’ says Joe, 'and I fought he was going to eat me up, Uncle Jim.’ 'Were you scared?’ says I. 'No, ’cause 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 Scotch23 ballads24 in a fine tenor25 voice; finally Captain Jim took down his old brown fiddle26 from the wall and began to play. He had a tolerable knack of fiddling27, which all appreciated save the First Mate, who sprang from the sofa as if he had been shot, emitted a shriek28 of protest, and fled wildly up the stairs.
“Can’t cultivate an ear for music in that cat nohow,” said Captain Jim. “He won’t stay long enough to learn to like it. When we got the organ up at the Glen church old Elder Richards bounced up from his seat the minute the organist began to play and scuttled29 down the aisle30 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 begin 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 tunes31 which Captain Jim played that very soon Marshall Elliott’s feet began to twitch32. He had been a noted33 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 rhythmic34 grace that was wonderful. Leslie danced like one inspired; the wild, sweet abandon of the music seemed to have entered into and possessed35 her. Anne watched her in fascinated admiration. She had never seen her like this. All the innate36 richness and color and charm of her nature seemed to have broken loose and overflowed37 in crimson38 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 purtiest dancing I ever saw, and I’ve seen some in my 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 sixteen—but I love it. The music seems to run through my veins39 like quicksilver 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 enclosing several banknotes.
“Is there anybody else of your acquaintance who can afford to hang his walls with banknotes for pictures?” he asked. “There’s twenty ten-dollar notes there, not worth the glass over them. They’re old Bank of P. E. Island notes. Had them by me when the bank failed, and I had ’em framed and hung up, partly as a reminder40 not to put your trust in banks, and partly to give me a real luxurious41, millionairy feeling. Hullo, Matey, don’t be scared. You can come back now. The music and revelry is over for tonight. The old year has just another hour to stay with us. I’ve seen seventy-six New Years come in over that gulf yonder, Mistress Blythe.”
“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. Tennyson spoke truth when he said that. There’s old Mrs. Wallace up at the Glen. She’s 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 sojourn42 any longer in this vale 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 vale of tears, all right, but there are some folks who enjoy weeping, I reckon.”
They spent the old year’s last hour quietly around 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 middle life, Gilbert and Anne with their precious memories and exquisite43 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 port in a good harbor.”
1 covenant [ˈkʌvənənt] 第10级 | |
n.盟约,契约;v.订盟约 | |
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2 gulf [gʌlf] 第7级 | |
n.海湾;深渊,鸿沟;分歧,隔阂 | |
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3 imprisoned [ɪmˈprɪzənd] 第8级 | |
下狱,监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4 admiration [ˌædməˈreɪʃn] 第8级 | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
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5 insistently [in'sistəntli] 第7级 | |
ad.坚持地 | |
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6 stark [stɑ:k] 第10级 | |
adj.荒凉的;严酷的;完全的;adv.完全地 | |
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7 brazen [ˈbreɪzn] 第11级 | |
adj.厚脸皮的,无耻的,坚硬的;vt. 厚着脸皮;勇敢地做(或对待);使变得勇敢;厚着脸皮做(或对待) | |
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8 splendor ['splendə] 第10级 | |
n.光彩;壮丽,华丽;显赫,辉煌 | |
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9 elusive [iˈlu:sɪv] 第9级 | |
adj.难以表达(捉摸)的;令人困惑的;逃避的 | |
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10 mistiness ['mɪstɪnɪs] 第9级 | |
n.雾,模糊,不清楚 | |
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11 pensiveness [] 第10级 | |
n.pensive(沉思的)的变形 | |
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12 intensified [inˈtensifaid] 第7级 | |
v.(使)增强, (使)加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13 enticing [in'taisiŋ] 第9级 | |
adj.迷人的;诱人的 | |
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14 amethyst [ˈæməθɪst] 第12级 | |
n.紫水晶 | |
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15 drawn [drɔ:n] 第11级 | |
v.(draw的过去式)拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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16 averted [əˈvə:tid] 第7级 | |
防止,避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 ); 转移 | |
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17 spoke [spəʊk] 第11级 | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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18 twilight [ˈtwaɪlaɪt] 第7级 | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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19 legitimate [lɪˈdʒɪtɪmət] 第8级 | |
adj.合法的,合理的,合乎逻辑的;v.使合法 | |
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20 witty [ˈwɪti] 第8级 | |
adj.机智的,风趣的 | |
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21 knack [næk] 第9级 | |
n.诀窍,做事情的灵巧的,便利的方法 | |
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22 remarkable [rɪˈmɑ:kəbl] 第7级 | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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23 scotch [skɒtʃ] 第9级 | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;vi.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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24 ballads ['bælədz] 第8级 | |
民歌,民谣,特别指叙述故事的歌( ballad的名词复数 ); 讴 | |
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25 tenor [ˈtenə(r)] 第8级 | |
n.男高音(歌手),次中音(乐器),要旨,大意 | |
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26 fiddle [ˈfɪdl] 第9级 | |
n.小提琴;vi.拉提琴;不停拨弄,乱动 | |
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27 fiddling ['fidliŋ] 第9级 | |
微小的 | |
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28 shriek [ʃri:k] 第7级 | |
v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
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29 scuttled [s'kʌtld] 第10级 | |
v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 );快跑,急走 | |
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30 aisle [aɪl] 第8级 | |
n.(教堂、教室、戏院等里的)过道,通道 | |
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31 tunes [tju:nz] 第7级 | |
n.曲调,曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 );调整;(给收音机、电视等)调谐;使协调 | |
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32 twitch [twɪtʃ] 第9级 | |
vi.急拉,抽动,痉挛,抽搐;vt. 使抽动;攫取;猛拉;n.扯,阵痛,痉挛 | |
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33 noted [ˈnəʊtɪd] 第8级 | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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34 rhythmic [ˈrɪðmɪk] 第9级 | |
adj.有节奏的,有韵律的 | |
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35 possessed [pəˈzest] 第12级 | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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36 innate [ɪˈneɪt] 第7级 | |
adj.天生的,固有的,天赋的 | |
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37 overflowed [] 第7级 | |
溢出的 | |
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38 crimson [ˈkrɪmzn] 第10级 | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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39 veins ['veɪnz] 第7级 | |
n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
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40 reminder [rɪˈmaɪndə(r)] 第9级 | |
n.提醒物,纪念品;暗示,提示 | |
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41 luxurious [lʌgˈʒʊəriəs] 第7级 | |
adj.精美而昂贵的;豪华的 | |
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