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CHAPTER XXIX UP CHAPTER XXXI CHAPTER XXX The Queens Class Is Organized Marilla laid her knitting on her lap and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes were tired, and she thought vaguely that she must see about having her glasses changed the next time she went to town, for her eyes had grown tired very often of late. It was nearly dark, for the full November twilight had fallen around Green Gables, and the only light in the kitchen came from the dancing red flames in the stove. Anne was curled up Turk-fashion on the hearthrug, gazing into that joyous glow where the sunshine of a hundred summers was being distilled from the maple cordwood. She had been reading, but her book had slipped to the floor, and now she was dreaming, with a smile on her parted lips. Glittering castles in Spain were shaping themselves out of the mists and rainbows of her lively fancy; adventures wonderful and enthralling were happening to her in cloudland--adventures that always turned out triumphantly and never involved her in scrapes like those of actual life. Marilla looked at her with a tenderness that would never have been suffered to reveal itself in any clearer light than that soft mingling of fireshine and shadow. The lesson of a love that should display itself easily in spoken word and open look was one Marilla could never learn. But she had learned to love this slim, gray-eyed girl with an affection all the deeper and stronger from its very undemonstrativeness. Her love made her afraid of being unduly indulgent, indeed. She had an uneasy feeling that it was rather sinful to set one s heart so intensely on any human creature as she had set hers on Anne, and perhaps she performed a sort of unconscious penance for this by being stricter and more critical than if the girl had been less dear to her. Certainly Anne herself had no idea how Marilla loved her. She sometimes thought wistfully that Marilla was very hard to please and distinctly lacking in sympathy and understanding. But she always checked the thought reproachfully, remembering what she owed to Marilla. "Anne," said Marilla abruptly, "Miss Stacy was here this afternoon when you were out with Diana." Anne came back from her other world with a start and a sigh. "Was she? Oh, I m so sorry I wasn t in. Why didn t you call me, Marilla? Diana and I were only over in the Haunted Wood. It s lovely in the woods now. All the little wood things--the ferns and the satin leaves and the crackerberries--have gone to sleep, just as if somebody had tucked them away until spring under a blanket of leaves. I think it was a little gray fairy with a rainbow scarf that came tiptoeing along the last moonlight night and did it. Diana wouldn t say much about that, though. Diana has never forgotten the scolding her mother gave her about imagining ghosts into the Haunted Wood. It had a very bad effect on Diana s imagination. It blighted it. Mrs. Lynde says Myrtle Bell is a blighted being. I asked Ruby Gillis why Myrtle was blighted, and Ruby said she guessed it was because her young man had gone back on her. Ruby Gillis thinks of nothing but young men, and the older she gets the worse she is. Young men are all very well in their place, but it doesn t do to drag them into everything, does it? Diana and I are thinking seriously of promising each other that we will never marry but be nice old maids and live together forever. Diana hasn t quite made up her mind though, because she thinks perhaps it would be nobler to marry some wild, dashing, wicked young man and reform him. Diana and I talk a great deal about serious subjects now, you know. We feel that we are so much older than we used to be that it isn t becoming to talk of childish matters. It s such a solemn thing to be almost fourteen, Marilla. Miss Stacy took all us girls who are in our teens down to the brook last Wednesday, and talked to us about it. She said we couldn t be too careful what habits we formed and what ideals we acquired in our teens, because by the time we were twenty our characters would be developed and the foundation laid for our whole future life. And she said if the foundation was shaky we could never build anything really worth while on it. Diana and I talked the matter over coming home from school. We felt extremely solemn, Marilla. And we decided that we would try to be very careful indeed and form respectable habits and learn all we could and be as sensible as possible, so that by the time we were twenty our characters would be properly developed. It s perfectly appalling to think of being twenty, Marilla. It sounds so fearfully old and grown up. But why was Miss Stacy here this afternoon?" "That is what I want to tell you, Anne, if you ll ever give me a chance to get a word in edgewise. She was talking about you." "About me?" Anne looked rather scared. Then she flushed and exclaimed "Oh, I know what she was saying. I meant to tell you, Marilla, honestly I did, but I forgot. Miss Stacy caught me reading Ben Hur in school yesterday afternoon when I should have been studying my Canadian history. Jane Andrews lent it to me. I was reading it at dinner hour, and I had just got to the chariot race when school went in. I was simply wild to know how it turned out-- although I felt sure Ben Hur must win, because it wouldn t be poetical justice if he didn t--so I spread the history open on my desk lid and then tucked Ben Hur between the desk and my knee. I just looked as if I were studying Canadian history, you know, while all the while I was reveling in Ben Hur. I was so interested in it that I never noticed Miss Stacy coming down the aisle until all at once I just looked up and there she was looking down at me, so reproachful-like. I can t tell you how ashamed I felt, Marilla, especially when I heard Josie Pye giggling. Miss Stacy took Ben Hur away, but she never said a word then. She kept me in at recess and talked to me. She said I had done very wrong in two respects. First, I was wasting the time I ought to have put on my studies; and secondly, I was deceiving my teacher in trying to make it appear I was reading a history when it was a storybook instead. I had never realized until that moment, Marilla, that what I was doing was deceitful. I was shocked. I cried bitterly, and asked Miss Stacy to forgive me and I d never do such a thing again; and I offered to do penance by never so much as looking at Ben Hur for a whole week, not even to see how the chariot race turned out. But Miss Stacy said she wouldn t require that, and she forgave me freely. So I think it wasn t very kind of her to come up here to you about it after all." "Miss Stacy never mentioned such a thing to me, Anne, and its only your guilty conscience that s the matter with you. You have no business to be taking storybooks to school. You read too many novels anyhow. When I was a girl I wasn t so much as allowed to look at a novel." "Oh, how can you call Ben Hur a novel when it s really such a religious book?" protested Anne. "Of course it s a little too exciting to be proper reading for Sunday, and I only read it on weekdays. And I never read ANY book now unless either Miss Stacy or Mrs. Allan thinks it is a proper book for a girl thirteen and three-quarters to read. Miss Stacy made me promise that. She found me reading a book one day called, The Lurid Mystery of the Haunted Hall. It was one Ruby Gillis had lent me, and, oh, Marilla, it was so fascinating and creepy. It just curdled the blood in my veins. But Miss Stacy said it was a very silly, unwholesome book, and she asked me not to read any more of it or any like it. I didn t mind promising not to read any more like it, but it was AGONIZING to give back that book without knowing how it turned out. But my love for Miss Stacy stood the test and I did. It s really wonderful, Marilla, what you can do when you re truly anxious to please a certain person." "Well, I guess I ll light the lamp and get to work," said Marilla. "I see plainly that you don t want to hear what Miss Stacy had to say. You re more interested in the sound of your own tongue than in anything else." "Oh, indeed, Marilla, I do want to hear it," cried Anne contritely. "I won t say another word--not one. I know I talk too much, but I am really trying to overcome it, and although I say far too much, yet if you only knew how many things I want to say and don t, you d give me some credit for it. Please tell me, Marilla." "Well, Miss Stacy wants to organize a class among her advanced students who mean to study for the entrance examination into Queen s. She intends to give them extra lessons for an hour after school. And she came to ask Matthew and me if we would like to have you join it. What do you think about it yourself, Anne? Would you like to go to Queen s and pass for a teacher?" "Oh, Marilla!" Anne straightened to her knees and clasped her hands. "It s been the dream of my life--that is, for the last six months, ever since Ruby and Jane began to talk of studying for the Entrance. But I didn t say anything about it, because I supposed it would be perfectly useless. I d love to be a teacher. But won t it be dreadfully expensive? Mr. Andrews says it cost him one hundred and fifty dollars to put Prissy through, and Prissy wasn t a dunce in geometry." "I guess you needn t worry about that part of it. When Matthew and I took you to bring up we resolved we would do the best we could for you and give you a good education. I believe in a girl being fitted to earn her own living whether she ever has to or not. You ll always have a home at Green Gables as long as Matthew and I are here, but nobody knows what is going to happen in this uncertain world, and it s just as well to be prepared. So you can join the Queen s class if you like, Anne." "Oh, Marilla, thank you." Anne flung her arms about Marilla s waist and looked up earnestly into her face. "I m extremely grateful to you and Matthew. And I ll study as hard as I can and do my very best to be a credit to you. I warn you not to expect much in geometry, but I think I can hold my own in anything else if I work hard." "I dare say you ll get along well enough. Miss Stacy says you are bright and diligent." Not for worlds would Marilla have told Anne just what Miss Stacy had said about her; that would have been to pamper vanity. "You needn t rush to any extreme of killing yourself over your books. There is no hurry. You won t be ready to try the Entrance for a year and a half yet. But it s well to begin in time and be thoroughly grounded, Miss Stacy says." "I shall take more interest than ever in my studies now," said Anne blissfully, "because I have a purpose in life. Mr. Allan says everybody should have a purpose in life and pursue it faithfully. Only he says we must first make sure that it is a worthy purpose. I would call it a worthy purpose to want to be a teacher like Miss Stacy, wouldn t you, Marilla? I think it s a very noble profession." The Queen s class was organized in due time. Gilbert Blythe, Anne Shirley, Ruby Gillis, Jane Andrews, Josie Pye, Charlie Sloane, and Moody Spurgeon MacPherson joined it. Diana Barry did not, as her parents did not intend to send her to Queen s. This seemed nothing short of a calamity to Anne. Never, since the night on which Minnie May had had the croup, had she and Diana been separated in anything. On the evening when the Queen s class first remained in school for the extra lessons and Anne saw Diana go slowly out with the others, to walk home alone through the Birch Path and Violet Vale, it was all the former could do to keep her seat and refrain from rushing impulsively after her chum. A lump came into her throat, and she hastily retired behind the pages of her uplifted Latin grammar to hide the tears in her eyes. Not for worlds would Anne have had Gilbert Blythe or Josie Pye see those tears. "But, oh, Marilla, I really felt that I had tasted the bitterness of death, as Mr. Allan said in his sermon last Sunday, when I saw Diana go out alone," she said mournfully that night. "I thought how splendid it would have been if Diana had only been going to study for the Entrance, too. But we can t have things perfect in this imperfect world, as Mrs. Lynde says. Mrs. Lynde isn t exactly a comforting person sometimes, but there s no doubt she says a great many very true things. And I think the Queen s class is going to be extremely interesting. Jane and Ruby are just going to study to be teachers. That is the height of their ambition. Ruby says she will only teach for two years after she gets through, and then she intends to be married. Jane says she will devote her whole life to teaching, and never, never marry, because you are paid a salary for teaching, but a husband won t pay you anything, and growls if you ask for a share in the egg and butter money. I expect Jane speaks from mournful experience, for Mrs. Lynde says that her father is a perfect old crank, and meaner than second skimmings. Josie Pye says she is just going to college for education s sake, because she won t have to earn her own living; she says of course it is different with orphans who are living on charity--THEY have to hustle. Moody Spurgeon is going to be a minister. Mrs. Lynde says he couldn t be anything else with a name like that to live up to. I hope it isn t wicked of me, Marilla, but really the thought of Moody Spurgeon being a minister makes me laugh. He s such a funny-looking boy with that big fat face, and his little blue eyes, and his ears sticking out like flaps. But perhaps he will be more intellectual looking when he grows up. Charlie Sloane says he s going to go into politics and be a member of Parliament, but Mrs. Lynde says he ll never succeed at that, because the Sloanes are all honest people, and it s only rascals that get on in politics nowadays." "What is Gilbert Blythe going to be?" queried Marilla, seeing that Anne was opening her Caesar. "I don t happen to know what Gilbert Blythe s ambition in life is-- if he has any," said Anne scornfully. There was open rivalry between Gilbert and Anne now. Previously the rivalry had been rather onesided, but there was no longer any doubt that Gilbert was as determined to be first in class as Anne was. He was a foeman worthy of her steel. The other members of the class tacitly acknowledged their superiority, and never dreamed of trying to compete with them. Since the day by the pond when she had refused to listen to his plea for forgiveness, Gilbert, save for the aforesaid determined rivalry, had evinced no recognition whatever of the existence of Anne Shirley. He talked and jested with the other girls, exchanged books and puzzles with them, discussed lessons and plans, sometimes walked home with one or the other of them from prayer meeting or Debating Club. But Anne Shirley he simply ignored, and Anne found out that it is not pleasant to be ignored. It was in vain that she told herself with a toss of her head that she did not care. Deep down in her wayward, feminine little heart she knew that she did care, and that if she had that chance of the Lake of Shining Waters again she would answer very differently. All at once, as it seemed, and to her secret dismay, she found that the old resentment she had cherished against him was gone--gone just when she most needed its sustaining power. It was in vain that she recalled every incident and emotion of that memorable occasion and tried to feel the old satisfying anger. That day by the pond had witnessed its last spasmodic flicker. Anne realized that she had forgiven and forgotten without knowing it. But it was too late. And at least neither Gilbert nor anybody else, not even Diana, should ever suspect how sorry she was and how much she wished she hadn t been so proud and horrid! She determined to "shroud her feelings in deepest oblivion," and it may be stated here and now that she did it, so successfully that Gilbert, who possibly was not quite so indifferent as he seemed, could not console himself with any belief that Anne felt his retaliatory scorn. The only poor comfort he had was that she snubbed Charlie Sloane, unmercifully, continually, and undeservedly. Otherwise the winter passed away in a round of pleasant duties and studies. For Anne the days slipped by like golden beads on the necklace of the year. She was happy, eager, interested; there were lessons to be learned and honor to be won; delightful books to read; new pieces to be practiced for the Sunday-school choir; pleasant Saturday afternoons at the manse with Mrs. Allan; and then, almost before Anne realized it, spring had come again to Green Gables and all the world was abloom once more. Studies palled just a wee bit then; the Queen s class, left behind in school while the others scattered to green lanes and leafy wood cuts and meadow byways, looked wistfully out of the windows and discovered that Latin verbs and French exercises had somehow lost the tang and zest they had possessed in the crisp winter months. Even Anne and Gilbert lagged and grew indifferent. Teacher and taught were alike glad when the term was ended and the glad vacation days stretched rosily before them. "But you ve done good work this past year," Miss Stacy told them on the last evening, "and you deserve a good, jolly vacation. Have the best time you can in the out-of-door world and lay in a good stock of health and vitality and ambition to carry you through next year. It will be the tug of war, you know--the last year before the Entrance." "Are you going to be back next year, Miss Stacy?" asked Josie Pye. Josie Pye never scrupled to ask questions; in this instance the rest of the class felt grateful to her; none of them would have dared to ask it of Miss Stacy, but all wanted to, for there had been alarming rumors running at large through the school for some time that Miss Stacy was not coming back the next year--that she had been offered a position in the grade school of her own home district and meant to accept. The Queen s class listened in breathless suspense for her answer. "Yes, I think I will," said Miss Stacy. "I thought of taking another school, but I have decided to come back to Avonlea. To tell the truth, I ve grown so interested in my pupils here that I found I couldn t leave them. So I ll stay and see you through." "Hurrah!" said Moody Spurgeon. Moody Spurgeon had never been so carried away by his feelings before, and he blushed uncomfortably every time he thought about it for a week. "Oh, I m so glad," said Anne, with shining eyes. "Dear Stacy, it would be perfectly dreadful if you didn t come back. I don t believe I could have the heart to go on with my studies at all if another teacher came here." When Anne got home that night she stacked all her textbooks away in an old trunk in the attic, locked it, and threw the key into the blanket box. "I m not even going to look at a schoolbook in vacation," she told Marilla. "I ve studied as hard all the term as I possibly could and I ve pored over that geometry until I know every proposition in the first book off by heart, even when the letters ARE changed. I just feel tired of everything sensible and I m going to let my imagination run riot for the summer. Oh, you needn t be alarmed, Marilla. I ll only let it run riot within reasonable limits. But I want to have a real good jolly time this summer, for maybe it s the last summer I ll be a little girl. Mrs. Lynde says that if I keep stretching out next year as I ve done this I ll have to put on longer skirts. She says I m all running to legs and eyes. And when I put on longer skirts I shall feel that I have to live up to them and be very dignified. It won t even do to believe in fairies then, I m afraid; so I m going to believe in them with all my whole heart this summer. I think we re going to have a very gay vacation. Ruby Gillis is going to have a birthday party soon and there s the Sunday school picnic and the missionary concert next month. And Mr. Barry says that some evening he ll take Diana and me over to the White Sands Hotel and have dinner there. They have dinner there in the evening, you know. Jane Andrews was over once last summer and she says it was a dazzling sight to see the electric lights and the flowers and all the lady guests in such beautiful dresses. Jane says it was her first glimpse into high life and she ll never forget it to her dying day." Mrs. Lynde came up the next afternoon to find out why Marilla had not been at the Aid meeting on Thursday. When Marilla was not at Aid meeting people knew there was something wrong at Green Gables. "Matthew had a bad spell with his heart Thursday," Marilla explained, "and I didn t feel like leaving him. Oh, yes, he s all right again now, but he takes them spells oftener than he used to and I m anxious about him. The doctor says he must be careful to avoid excitement. That s easy enough, for Matthew doesn t go about looking for excitement by any means and never did, but he s not to do any very heavy work either and you might as well tell Matthew not to breathe as not to work. Come and lay off your things, Rachel. You ll stay to tea?" "Well, seeing you re so pressing, perhaps I might as well, stay" said Mrs. Rachel, who had not the slightest intention of doing anything else. Mrs. Rachel and Marilla sat comfortably in the parlor while Anne got the tea and made hot biscuits that were light and white enough to defy even Mrs. Rachel s criticism. "I must say Anne has turned out a real smart girl," admitted Mrs. Rachel, as Marilla accompanied her to the end of the lane at sunset. "She must be a great help to you." "She is," said Marilla, "and she s real steady and reliable now. I used to be afraid she d never get over her featherbrained ways, but she has and I wouldn t be afraid to trust her in anything now." "I never would have thought she d have turned out so well that first day I was here three years ago," said Mrs. Rachel. "Lawful heart, shall I ever forget that tantrum of hers! When I went home that night I says to Thomas, says I, `Mark my words, Thomas, Marilla Cuthbert ll live to rue the step she s took. But I was mistaken and I m real glad of it. I ain t one of those kind of people, Marilla, as can never be brought to own up that they ve made a mistake. No, that never was my way, thank goodness. I did make a mistake in judging Anne, but it weren t no wonder, for an odder, unexpecteder witch of a child there never was in this world, that s what. There was no ciphering her out by the rules that worked with other children. It s nothing short of wonderful how she s improved these three years, but especially in looks. She s a real pretty girl got to be, though I can t say I m overly partial to that pale, big-eyed style myself. I like more snap and color, like Diana Barry has or Ruby Gillis. Ruby Gillis s looks are real showy. But somehow--I don t know how it is but when Anne and them are together, though she ain t half as handsome, she makes them look kind of common and overdone-- something like them white June lilies she calls narcissus alongside of the big, red peonies, that s what." CHAPTER XXIX UP CHAPTER XXXI 今日 - | 昨日 - | Total - since 05 June 2007 last update 2007-06-05 01 18 36 (Tue)
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Sarifah dan Haruka Sarifah Hai,Haruka. Bagaimana besok? Kita bertemu di mana sebelum pergi ke Odaiba? サリファ はい、はるか。 明日はどうする? お台場に行く前にどこで私たち会う? Haruka Hai,Sarifah. Kamu tahu Stasiun Osaki? はるか はい、サリファ。 あなた大崎駅知ってる? S Stasiun Osaki? Itu stasiun kecil ya? S 大崎駅? それは小さい駅? H Mmm...tidak juga. Stasiun itu lebih besar daripada stasiun Gotanda. H ん~そうでもないわ。 その駅は五反田駅より大きいよ。 S Lebih besar daripada Stasiun Gotanda? 五反田駅より大きいの? H Ya,betul. H ええそうよ。 S Ya,ya,ya. Saya tahu. Itu statiun di antara Shinagawa dan Gotanda. S あーあーあー 私知ってる。 それは品川と五反田の間の駅よね。 H Ya, betul. Besok jam berapa? H ええそうよ。 明日は何時? S Bagaimana kalau jam setengah delapan pagi? S 7時半はどう? H Wah, pagi sekali. Itu terlalu cepat. Saya belum bangun. H まぁとっても早い。 それは早すぎるわ。 私まだ起きてない。 S O ya? S あらそう? H Saya bangun agak siang. Bagaimana kalau jam delapan? H 私はもうちょっと遅く起きるの。 8時はどう? S Baiklah. Di Odaiba kita pergi ke mana? S いいわ。 お台場で私たちはどこに行くの? H Mungkin kita pergi ke Taman Odaiba. Di sana kita bisa melihat Rainbow Bridge. Lalu, kita pergi ke Stasiun Televisi Fuji. Tempat itu sangat populer di Odaiba. Di dekat sana juga ada banyak toko dan restoran. H おそらく私たちはお台場公園に行くわ。 そこで私たちはレインボーブリッジをみることができるの。 それから、私たちはフジテレビ局に行くの。 その場所はお台場でとても人気なの。 その近くにはたくさんのお店やレストランがあるの。 S Oke. Aku setuju. Sampai besok ya. S OK 賛成するわ また明日。 H Sampai besok. H また明日。 ポイント Stasiun 駅、局
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@ コツコツと靴音を鳴らせ整備員達は忙しなく動く。 その騒音の中心にいる男はパイロットスーツに身を包んでいた。 専属整備員達が彼の体に様々なケーブルを接続していき、 その度に各種計器が点滅を始め、 男、ゴールディ・ゴードンは少し低い声で呟く。 「今度があればいいんだがな」 最後にぼうっという音を立て、頭部の観測儀に火が灯る。 時は早朝、現在位置は作戦領域上空一万フィート。 管制室からコクピットに伝令が届く。 《ハッシンジュンビヨロシ》 ゴールディは腕を組み高々に返答する。 「了解、此れより、本機は――発進するッ!」 輸送機の扉が開き、巨大な箱が投下された。 否、それは箱ではなく戦艦、ACレイジング・トレントΧであった。 戦艦は地上に降り立つと共に、此れから来るであろう敵に対しのろしを上げた。 それは落りたった際の衝撃波であった。 衝撃は辺り一面を焼け野原にした。 だが此れでは敵にすぐさま発見されてしまうだろう。 しかし其れで良いのだ。 本作戦は敵の陽動であるのだから。 本機は敵を引き付ける囮であるのだから。 ゴールディは両脇のコンソウルを叩き、頭部COMへ伝令。 「ワレ、本機ト共ニ在リッ!」 その無敵の命令に従い、頭部COMは命を遂行。 其の心は正義。雷神は今にも天空を抉らんする。 《作戦目標、敵勢力の陽動。周辺地形データ取得。》 《中央マルチスクリーンにレーダー及び作戦領域表示。》 《火器管制機構を起動-全兵装の気力の供給開始……最終安全装置、完全解除》 ジュピターボイラー レイジング・トレントΧの木星熱源機器が轟音と煙と共に脈動を始める。 カノン 箱の外壁が音を立ててはじけ飛ぶ。聳え立つ長大な砲の群が現れる。 観測儀の光は燦然と煌めき、来るべき敵を見据える。 マクスウィルエネルギア 完璧無比の火器管制機構が起動され、漢の力が全兵装へとなだれ込む。 《中核機構 、 戦 闘 形 態 を 起 動 し ま す 。》 ――――彼自身の最期の戦いが始まった。 カイ ――――レイジング・トレントΧ―――― レイヴンゴールディ・ゴードンの愛機。記念すべき十機目。 その姿はまるで陸上戦車で殲滅戦を得意とする。 しかし、その大きさたるやで輸送機に入らず、特注の輸送機を使用。 色は輝かしい金色。 バーテックスの呼び出した異界のものどもとの交戦中、自爆。 異界のものども諸共に作戦領域を消し去った。 搭乗者であるゴールディ・ゴードンの回収は出来ず、 爆発と共に死亡したと思われる。 なお、爆発の影響にて次元断層が発生。 まことに危険。立ち入りを禁ずる。~追記600Pにて~ ―――――説明、終了――――
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皮肉にもごぼり口内から吹き出た血によってエヴァンジェは意識を取り戻しつつあった。 彼の生命の灯火の火はもう消えて微かに熱を残す煤が宙に舞うだけだったがその煤はまだ生きている。 煤から再び燃え上がり、命の御堂を燃やし尽くすほどの炎になる。 だから全人類は助かる。 だから再び彼が目を開ける時まで暫し待て。 @第参話:いざ羽ばたけ!鳥は空を飛ぶ!! ここはアライアンスのラートラス地下基地。 そこの客室では二人の男が向かい同士のソファに座っていた。 二人の男と言うのは、エヴァンジェとDr.?だ。 Dr.?はエヴァンジェに現在の状況を説明していた。 ――――国家解体戦争――――― その名の通り、戦後、国家と言う国家が解体され、 敵対していた〔企業〕にその役目を取って代わられた。 それ以前の時代の事を前時代と言う。 現在、国家は形式だけになっており、その能力は無い。 (ただし、国家軍だけは例外)~例外198P~ ――――説明終了――――― 「先刻コジマ粒子が確認されたである」とDr.?が口を開く。 エヴァンジェは頭を上げ、彼の話を聞く。 「コジマ粒子は国家解体戦争にて用いられ始めたあの魔力粒子であるぞ? 主にネクストACの分野において使用されてたのだが君も知っての通りであるが ネクストは戦後全廃棄されたのであるが。 そう、コウピウタルに記録された設計図なども全てだったのである。 そして地球上にネクストは存在しなくなったはずなのである。 勿論コジマ粒子もであるぞ!? だから今回の確認されたことは誤認だと私は信じたいのである。 だがこれは各地で観測されている現象である。 主に……旧サーク・シティ付近でであるぞ?! コジマ粒子を応用したバリアーとも言うべきプライマルアーマー。 そして高度なAMSシステムを持ったネクストが再び世に現れれば戦争の再来は免れないのである。 国家軍側もそれを承知の上だからネクストなど作る気も起きないであるだろう。 そして今回の秘密結社バーテックスの声明文の発表。 君は任務中で直接は聞いていないだろうが 国家軍軍令部のカリスマ、ジャック・Oを中心とした集団が国家軍を離反したのである。 直属の戦闘部隊には相当なてだればかりである。 その発表直後である、粒子が観測され始めたのは!! 今回君を呼んだのは他でもないのである。ジャック・Oを止めてくれである!!」 Dr.?は一言にこれを述べて息を切らした。 ――――旧サークシティ―――― 国家解体戦争時の、国家軍の中心とも言うべき場所。 全ての国家軍製ネクスト、及びコジマ粒子兵器等の生産は其処で執り行われていた。 無論其処は今、企業連合アライアンスが管理している。 しかし、地下には無人兵器、魔法生物が多く潜んでおり、 調査侵入が今のところ出来ていない。 ――――説明終了――――――― エヴァンジェはDr.?の言葉を聞いて愕然とした。 彼もまた、ネクストと言う兵器を忌避しているからだ。 その証拠に彼の声は恐怖に震えている。 「止める?どうやって!!敵はネクストを持っているんだろう?!」 いかにドミナントとも言えどノーマルでネクスト相手に戦いうなど結果など目に見えている。 現在、ネクストを倒せるものは存在しない。 ネクストを倒せるものはネクストのみ。 それに異論の余地は無い。 息を整えたDr.?はようやくいつもの調子で饒舌に喋り始めた。 「ふふふ、そのことは既に考えてあるである……ついてくるのである!!」 エヴァンジェは言われたとおりついて行った。 白く長い廊下をエレベータで降り地下格納庫。 その格納庫より更に降りたところにそいつは在った。 それを見たときエヴァンジェは目を疑った。 「これは……これはネクストじゃないか!!……何故あんなものを!!!」 「あ、あれはネクストではないのである!!!」 「な?!」 「あれは人類の粋をかけて作られた希望である!!!」 「希望?」 「そうである!!!その名も装甲機兵ダンガンガーである!!!!!!!!」 マッド科学者は腕を高々に挙げて叫んだ。 エヴァンジェは今までした事も無い様な馬鹿面でその巨大機神を見上げていた。 ・ ・・・ ・・・・・ ―――バトロイヤー秘密格納庫――― エネは首から伸びるコードを外しコクピットを降りた。 彼女の愛機バトロイヤーは無愛想な表情で彼女を見つめる。 ラッタルをつたわり硬いガレージの床を踏みしめるまで彼女の思考は先ほどの事でいっぱいだった。 今までその様な思いをさせてくれたのはただ一人。 全ての頂点に君臨した男、ジノーヴィだけであった。 破壊と破滅の銃弾が飛び交う中に私達はいた。 だが彼は死んだ。任務中ではなく、事故にまきこまれて。 そう、車に轢かれそうだった子供を助けたのだ。 それの所為で彼女の愛した一人の男は死んだ。 しかし、エヴァンジェが彼と同じ存在だと言う事が許せないのだ。 エネは己の小さな掌で宙を握り潰した。 「エヴァンジェ……次会った時こそ、倒すっ!!」 ―――その決意でッ…… 「私は、貴様を、義父さんと同じだなんて絶対認めない」 ――――明日への扉を蹴り破って進めッッ!!
https://w.atwiki.jp/englishlanguage/pages/237.html
DAN ... Danchev, Andrei, et al.1965. "The Construction going to + inf. In Modern English". Zeitschrift fuer Anglistik und Amerikanistik 13 375-86. Danchev, Andrei. 1991. "Language Change Typology and Some Aspects of the SVO Development in English", in English Historical Syntax, ed. Dieter Kastovsky, pp. 103-24. Berlin Mouton de Gruyter. Danchev, Andrei. 1992. "The evidence for analystic and synthetic developments in English", in History of Englishes New Methods and Interpretations in Historical Linguistics, ed. Matti Rissanen et al., pp. 25-41. Berlin Mouton de Gruyter. Danchev, Andrei Merja Kyto. 1994. "The Construction be going to + infinitive in Early Modern English", in Studies in Early Modern English, ed. D. Kastovsky, pp. 59-77. Berlin Mouton de Gruyter. Danchev, Andrei Merja Kytoe. 2001. "The Middle English 'for to + inifinitive' Construction A Twofold Contact Phenomenon?", in Languge Contact in the History of English, ed. Dieter Kastovsky Arthur Mettinger, pp. 35-55. Peter Lang. Dancygier, Barbara Eve Sweetser. 2000. "Constructions with if, since, and because Causality, Epistemic Stance, and Clause Order", in Cause, Condition, Concession, Contrast, ed. E. Couper-Kuhlen b. Kortmann, pp. 111-42. Mouton de Gruyter. D'angelo, Larissa. 2018. "Translating cultural references in the Italian dubbing and re-dubbing of E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial". Token A Journal of English Linguistics 7. d'Anglejan, A. G. Tucker. 1973. "Sociolinguistic Correlates of Speech Style in Quebec", in Language Attitudes Current Trends, ed. R. Shuy and R. Fasold. and Prospects. Washington Georgetown University Press. Danjo, Mitsuyo. 2017. "Pagan Gods and the Christian God in Troilus and Criseyde". 平成28年度修士論文梗概 Hiroshima Studies in English Language and Literature 61 97-98.
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CHAPTER XXI UP CHAPTER XXIII CHAPTER XXII Anne is Invited Out to Tea "And what are your eyes popping out of your head about. Now?" asked Marilla, when Anne had just come in from a run to the post office. "Have you discovered another kindred spirit?" Excitement hung around Anne like a garment, shone in her eyes, kindled in every feature. She had come dancing up the lane, like a wind-blown sprite, through the mellow sunshine and lazy shadows of the August evening. "No, Marilla, but oh, what do you think? I am invited to tea at the manse tomorrow afternoon! Mrs. Allan left the letter for me at the post office. Just look at it, Marilla. `Miss Anne Shirley, Green Gables. That is the first time I was ever called `Miss. Such a thrill as it gave me! I shall cherish it forever among my choicest treasures." "Mrs. Allan told me she meant to have all the members of her Sunday-school class to tea in turn," said Marilla, regarding the wonderful event very coolly. "You needn t get in such a fever over it. Do learn to take things calmly, child." For Anne to take things calmly would have been to change her nature. All "spirit and fire and dew," as she was, the pleasures and pains of life came to her with trebled intensity. Marilla felt this and was vaguely troubled over it, realizing that the ups and downs of existence would probably bear hardly on this impulsive soul and not sufficiently understanding that the equally great capacity for delight might more than compensate. Therefore Marilla conceived it to be her duty to drill Anne into a tranquil uniformity of disposition as impossible and alien to her as to a dancing sunbeam in one of the brook shallows. She did not make much headway, as she sorrowfully admitted to herself. The downfall of some dear hope or plan plunged Anne into "deeps of affliction." The fulfillment thereof exalted her to dizzy realms of delight. Marilla had almost begun to despair of ever fashioning this waif of the world into her model little girl of demure manners and prim deportment. Neither would she have believed that she really liked Anne much better as she was. Anne went to bed that night speechless with misery because Matthew had said the wind was round northeast and he feared it would be a rainy day tomorrow. The rustle of the poplar leaves about the house worried her, it sounded so like pattering raindrops, and the full, faraway roar of the gulf, to which she listened delightedly at other times, loving its strange, sonorous, haunting rhythm, now seemed like a prophecy of storm and disaster to a small maiden who particularly wanted a fine day. Anne thought that the morning would never come. But all things have an end, even nights before the day on which you are invited to take tea at the manse. The morning, in spite of Matthew s predictions, was fine and Anne s spirits soared to their highest. "Oh, Marilla, there is something in me today that makes me just love everybody I see," she exclaimed as she washed the breakfast dishes. "You don t know how good I feel! Wouldn t it be nice if it could last? I believe I could be a model child if I were just invited out to tea every day. But oh, Marilla, it s a solemn occasion too. I feel so anxious. What if I shouldn t behave properly? You know I never had tea at a manse before, and I m not sure that I know all the rules of etiquette, although I ve been studying the rules given in the Etiquette Department of the Family Herald ever since I came here. I m so afraid I ll do something silly or forget to do something I should do. Would it be good manners to take a second helping of anything if you wanted to VERY much?" "The trouble with you, Anne, is that you re thinking too much about yourself. You should just think of Mrs. Allan and what would be nicest and most agreeable to her," said Marilla, hitting for once in her life on a very sound and pithy piece of advice. Anne instantly realized this. "You are right, Marilla. I ll try not to think about myself at all." Anne evidently got through her visit without any serious breach of "etiquette," for she came home through the twilight, under a great, high-sprung sky gloried over with trails of saffron and rosy cloud, in a beatified state of mind and told Marilla all about it happily, sitting on the big red-sandstone slab at the kitchen door with her tired curly head in Marilla s gingham lap. A cool wind was blowing down over the long harvest fields from the rims of firry western hills and whistling through the poplars. One clear star hung over the orchard and the fireflies were flitting over in Lover s Lane, in and out among the ferns and rustling boughs. Anne watched them as she talked and somehow felt that wind and stars and fireflies were all tangled up together into something unutterably sweet and enchanting. "Oh, Marilla, I ve had a most FASCINATING time. I feel that I have not lived in vain and I shall always feel like that even if I should never be invited to tea at a manse again. When I got there Mrs. Allan met me at the door. She was dressed in the sweetest dress of pale-pink organdy, with dozens of frills and elbow sleeves, and she looked just like a seraph. I really think I d like to be a minister s wife when I grow up, Marilla. A minister mightn t mind my red hair because he wouldn t be thinking of such worldly things. But then of course one would have to be naturally good and I ll never be that, so I suppose there s no use in thinking about it. Some people are naturally good, you know, and others are not. I m one of the others. Mrs. Lynde says I m full of original sin. No matter how hard I try to be good I can never make such a success of it as those who are naturally good. It s a good deal like geometry, I expect. But don t you think the trying so hard ought to count for something? Mrs. Allan is one of the naturally good people. I love her passionately. You know there are some people, like Matthew and Mrs. Allan that you can love right off without any trouble. And there are others, like Mrs. Lynde, that you have to try very hard to love. You know you OUGHT to love them because they know so much and are such active workers in the church, but you have to keep reminding yourself of it all the time or else you forget. There was another little girl at the manse to tea, from the White Sands Sunday school. Her name was Laurette Bradley, and she was a very nice little girl. Not exactly a kindred spirit, you know, but still very nice. We had an elegant tea, and I think I kept all the rules of etiquette pretty well. After tea Mrs. Allan played and sang and she got Lauretta and me to sing too. Mrs. Allan says I have a good voice and she says I must sing in the Sunday-school choir after this. You can t think how I was thrilled at the mere thought. I ve longed so to sing in the Sunday-school choir, as Diana does, but I feared it was an honor I could never aspire to. Lauretta had to go home early because there is a big concert in the White Sands Hotel tonight and her sister is to recite at it. Lauretta says that the Americans at the hotel give a concert every fortnight in aid of the Charlottetown hospital, and they ask lots of the White Sands people to recite. Lauretta said she expected to be asked herself someday. I just gazed at her in awe. After she had gone Mrs. Allan and I had a heart-to-heart talk. I told her everything--about Mrs. Thomas and the twins and Katie Maurice and Violetta and coming to Green Gables and my troubles over geometry. And would you believe it, Marilla? Mrs. Allan told me she was a dunce at geometry too. You don t know how that encouraged me. Mrs. Lynde came to the manse just before I left, and what do you think, Marilla? The trustees have hired a new teacher and it s a lady. Her name is Miss Muriel Stacy. Isn t that a romantic name? Mrs. Lynde says they ve never had a female teacher in Avonlea before and she thinks it is a dangerous innovation. But I think it will be splendid to have a lady teacher, and I really don t see how I m going to live through the two weeks before school begins. I m so impatient to see her." CHAPTER XXI UP CHAPTER XXIII 今日 - | 昨日 - | Total - since 05 June 2007 last update 2007-06-05 01 21 35 (Tue)
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Malagasy, Plateau【plt】 プラトー・マダガスカル語 00 Austronesian 01 Malayo-Polynesian 02 Greater Barito 03 East 04 Malagasy Braille script【Brai】 Latin script【Latn】 《現》living language アメリカ合衆国【US】 コモロ【KM】 マダガスカル【MG】 マヨット【YT】 レユニオン【RE】 言語名別称 alternate names Hova Malagasi Malagasy Malgache Official Malagasy Standard Malagasy 方言名 dialect names Betsileo ベツィレウ方言 Bezanozano Merina (Hova) メリナ方言 Sihanaka Tanala Vakinankaritra 表記法 writing Braille script【Brai?】 Latin script【Latn】 参考文献 references WEB ISO 639-3 Registration Authority - SIL International LINGUIST List Ethnologue Wikipedia ウィキペディア
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CHAPTER IX UP CHAPTER XI CHAPTER X Anne s Apology Marilla said nothing to Matthew about the affair that evening; but when Anne proved still refractory the next morning an explanation had to be made to account for her absence from the breakfast table. Marilla told Matthew the whole story, taking pains to impress him with a due sense of the enormity of Anne s behavior. "It s a good thing Rachel Lynde got a calling down; she s a meddlesome old gossip," was Matthew s consolatory rejoinder. "Matthew Cuthbert, I m astonished at you. You know that Anne s behavior was dreadful, and yet you take her part! I suppose you ll be saying next thing that she oughtn t to be punished at all!" "Well now--no--not exactly," said Matthew uneasily. "I reckon she ought to be punished a little. But don t be too hard on her, Marilla. Recollect she hasn t ever had anyone to teach her right. You re--you re going to give her something to eat, aren t you?" "When did you ever hear of me starving people into good behavior?" demanded Marilla indignantly. "She ll have her meals regular, and I ll carry them up to her myself. But she ll stay up there until she s willing to apologize to Mrs. Lynde, and that s final, Matthew." Breakfast, dinner, and supper were very silent meals--for Anne still remained obdurate. After each meal Marilla carried a well-filled tray to the east gable and brought it down later on not noticeably depleted. Matthew eyed its last descent with a troubled eye. Had Anne eaten anything at all? When Marilla went out that evening to bring the cows from the back pasture, Matthew, who had been hanging about the barns and watching, slipped into the house with the air of a burglar and crept upstairs. As a general thing Matthew gravitated between the kitchen and the little bedroom off the hall where he slept; once in a while he ventured uncomfortably into the parlor or sitting room when the minister came to tea. But he had never been upstairs in his own house since the spring he helped Marilla paper the spare bedroom, and that was four years ago. He tiptoed along the hall and stood for several minutes outside the door of the east gable before he summoned courage to tap on it with his fingers and then open the door to peep in. Anne was sitting on the yellow chair by the window gazing mournfully out into the garden. Very small and unhappy she looked, and Matthew s heart smote him. He softly closed the door and tiptoed over to her. "Anne," he whispered, as if afraid of being overheard, "how are you making it, Anne?" Anne smiled wanly. "Pretty well. I imagine a good deal, and that helps to pass the time. Of course, it s rather lonesome. But then, I may as well get used to that." Anne smiled again, bravely facing the long years of solitary imprisonment before her. Matthew recollected that he must say what he had come to say without loss of time, lest Marilla return prematurely. "Well now, Anne, don t you think you d better do it and have it over with?" he whispered. "It ll have to be done sooner or later, you know, for Marilla s a dreadful deter- mined woman--dreadful determined, Anne. Do it right off, I say, and have it over." "Do you mean apologize to Mrs. Lynde?" "Yes--apologize--that s the very word," said Matthew eagerly. "Just smooth it over so to speak. That s what I was trying to get at." "I suppose I could do it to oblige you," said Anne thoughtfully. "It would be true enough to say I am sorry, because I AM sorry now. I wasn t a bit sorry last night. I was mad clear through, and I stayed mad all night. I know I did because I woke up three times and I was just furious every time. But this morning it was over. I wasn t in a temper anymore--and it left a dreadful sort of goneness, too. I felt so ashamed of myself. But I just couldn t think of going and telling Mrs. Lynde so. It would be so humiliating. I made up my mind I d stay shut up here forever rather than do that. But still--I d do anything for you--if you really want me to--" "Well now, of course I do. It s terrible lonesome downstairs without you. Just go and smooth things over-- that s a good girl." "Very well," said Anne resignedly. "I ll tell Marilla as soon as she comes in I ve repented." "That s right--that s right, Anne. But don t tell Marilla I said anything about it. She might think I was putting my oar in and I promised not to do that." "Wild horses won t drag the secret from me," promised Anne solemnly. "How would wild horses drag a secret from a person anyhow?" But Matthew was gone, scared at his own success. He fled hastily to the remotest corner of the horse pasture lest Marilla should suspect what he had been up to. Marilla herself, upon her return to the house, was agreeably surprised to hear a plaintive voice calling, "Marilla" over the banisters. "Well?" she said, going into the hall. "I m sorry I lost my temper and said rude things, and I m willing to go and tell Mrs. Lynde so." "Very well." Marilla s crispness gave no sign of her relief. She had been wondering what under the canopy she should do if Anne did not give in. "I ll take you down after milking." Accordingly, after milking, behold Marilla and Anne walking down the lane, the former erect and triumphant, the latter drooping and dejected. But halfway down Anne s dejection vanished as if by enchantment. She lifted her head and stepped lightly along, her eyes fixed on the sunset sky and an air of subdued exhilaration about her. Marilla beheld the change disapprovingly. This was no meek penitent such as it behooved her to take into the presence of the offended Mrs. Lynde. "What are you thinking of, Anne?" she asked sharply. "I m imagining out what I must say to Mrs. Lynde," answered Anne dreamily. This was satisfactory--or should have been so. But Marilla could not rid herself of the notion that something in her scheme of punishment was going askew. Anne had no business to look so rapt and radiant. Rapt and radiant Anne continued until they were in the very presence of Mrs. Lynde, who was sitting knitting by her kitchen window. Then the radiance vanished. Mournful penitence appeared on every feature. Before a word was spoken Anne suddenly went down on her knees before the astonished Mrs. Rachel and held out her hands beseechingly. "Oh, Mrs. Lynde, I am so extremely sorry," she said with a quiver in her voice. "I could never express all my sorrow, no, not if I used up a whole dictionary. You must just imagine it. I behaved terribly to you--and I ve disgraced the dear friends, Matthew and Marilla, who have let me stay at Green Gables although I m not a boy. I m a dreadfully wicked and ungrateful girl, and I deserve to be punished and cast out by respectable people forever. It was very wicked of me to fly into a temper because you told me the truth. It WAS the truth; every word you said was true. My hair is red and I m freckled and skinny and ugly. What I said to you was true, too, but I shouldn t have said it. Oh, Mrs. Lynde, please, please, forgive me. If you refuse it will be a lifelong sorrow on a poor little orphan girl, would you, even if she had a dreadful temper? Oh, I am sure you wouldn t. Please say you forgive me, Mrs. Lynde." Anne clasped her hands together, bowed her head, and waited for the word of judgment. There was no mistaking her sincerity--it breathed in every tone of her voice. Both Marilla and Mrs. Lynde recognized its unmistakable ring. But the former under- stood in dismay that Anne was actually enjoying her valley of humiliation--was reveling in the thoroughness of her abasement. Where was the wholesome punishment upon which she, Marilla, had plumed herself? Anne had turned it into a species of positive pleasure. Good Mrs. Lynde, not being overburdened with perception, did not see this. She only perceived that Anne had made a very thorough apology and all resentment vanished from her kindly, if somewhat officious, heart. "There, there, get up, child," she said heartily. "Of course I forgive you. I guess I was a little too hard on you, anyway. But I m such an outspoken person. You just mustn t mind me, that s what. It can t be denied your hair is terrible red; but I knew a girl once--went to school with her, in fact--whose hair was every mite as red as yours when she was young, but when she grew up it darkened to a real handsome auburn. I wouldn t be a mite surprised if yours did, too--not a mite." "Oh, Mrs. Lynde!" Anne drew a long breath as she rose to her feet. "You have given me a hope. I shall always feel that you are a benefactor. Oh, I could endure anything if I only thought my hair would be a handsome auburn when I grew up. It would be so much easier to be good if one s hair was a handsome auburn, don t you think? And now may I go out into your garden and sit on that bench under the apple-trees while you and Marilla are talking? There is so much more scope for imagination out there." "Laws, yes, run along, child. And you can pick a bouquet of them white June lilies over in the corner if you like." As the door closed behind Anne Mrs. Lynde got briskly up to light a lamp. "She s a real odd little thing. Take this chair, Marilla; it s easier than the one you ve got; I just keep that for the hired boy to sit on. Yes, she certainly is an odd child, but there is something kind of taking about her after all. I don t feel so surprised at you and Matthew keeping her as I did--nor so sorry for you, either. She may turn out all right. Of course, she has a queer way of expressing herself-- a little too--well, too kind of forcible, you know; but she ll likely get over that now that she s come to live among civilized folks. And then, her temper s pretty quick, I guess; but there s one comfort, a child that has a quick temper, just blaze up and cool down, ain t never likely to be sly or deceitful. Preserve me from a sly child, that s what. On the whole, Marilla, I kind of like her." When Marilla went home Anne came out of the fragrant twilight of the orchard with a sheaf of white narcissi in her hands. "I apologized pretty well, didn t I?" she said proudly as they went down the lane. "I thought since I had to do it I might as well do it thoroughly." "You did it thoroughly, all right enough," was Marilla s comment. Marilla was dismayed at finding herself inclined to laugh over the recollection. She had also an uneasy feeling that she ought to scold Anne for apologizing so well; but then, that was ridiculous! She compromised with her conscience by saying severely "I hope you won t have occasion to make many more such apologies. I hope you ll try to control your temper now, Anne." "That wouldn t be so hard if people wouldn t twit me about my looks," said Anne with a sigh. "I don t get cross about other things; but I m SO tired of being twitted about my hair and it just makes me boil right over. Do you suppose my hair will really be a handsome auburn when I grow up?" "You shouldn t think so much about your looks, Anne. I m afraid you are a very vain little girl." "How can I be vain when I know I m homely?" protested Anne. "I love pretty things; and I hate to look in the glass and see something that isn t pretty. It makes me feel so sorrowful--just as I feel when I look at any ugly thing. I pity it because it isn t beautiful." "Handsome is as handsome does," quoted Marilla. "I ve had that said to me before, but I have my doubts about it," remarked skeptical Anne, sniffing at her narcissi. "Oh, aren t these flowers sweet! It was lovely of Mrs. Lynde to give them to me. I have no hard feelings against Mrs. Lynde now. It gives you a lovely, comfortable feeling to apologize and be forgiven, doesn t it? Aren t the stars bright tonight? If you could live in a star, which one would you pick? I d like that lovely clear big one away over there above that dark hill." "Anne, do hold your tongue." said Marilla, thoroughly worn out trying to follow the gyrations of Anne s thoughts. Anne said no more until they turned into their own lane. A little gypsy wind came down it to meet them, laden with the spicy perfume of young dew-wet ferns. Far up in the shadows a cheerful light gleamed out through the trees from the kitchen at Green Gables. Anne suddenly came close to Marilla and slipped her hand into the older woman s hard palm. "It s lovely to be going home and know it s home," she said. "I love Green Gables already, and I never loved any place before. No place ever seemed like home. Oh, Marilla, I m so happy. I could pray right now and not find it a bit hard." Something warm and pleasant welled up in Marilla s heart at touch of that thin little hand in her own--a throb of the maternity she had missed, perhaps. Its very unaccustomedness and sweetness disturbed her. She hastened to restore her sensations to their normal calm by inculcating a moral. "If you ll be a good girl you ll always be happy, Anne. And you should never find it hard to say your prayers." "Saying one s prayers isn t exactly the same thing as praying," said Anne meditatively. "But I m going to imagine that I m the wind that is blowing up there in those tree tops. When I get tired of the trees I ll imagine I m gently waving down here in the ferns--and then I ll fly over to Mrs. Lynde s garden and set the flowers dancing--and then I ll go with one great swoop over the clover field--and then I ll blow over the Lake of Shining Waters and ripple it all up into little sparkling waves. Oh, there s so much scope for imagination in a wind! So I ll not talk any more just now, Marilla." "Thanks be to goodness for that," breathed Marilla in devout relief. CHAPTER IX UP CHAPTER XI 今日 - | 昨日 - | Total - since 05 June 2007 last update 2007-06-05 01 29 12 (Tue)
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CHAPTER XVI UP CHAPTER XVIII CHAPTER XVII A New Interest in Life THE next afternoon Anne, bending over her patchwork at the kitchen window, happened to glance out and beheld Diana down by the Dryad s Bubble beckoning mysteriously. In a trice Anne was out of the house and flying down to the hollow, astonishment and hope struggling in her expressive eyes. But the hope faded when she saw Diana s dejected countenance. "Your mother hasn t relented?" she gasped. Diana shook her head mournfully. "No; and oh, Anne, she says I m never to play with you again. I ve cried and cried and I told her it wasn t your fault, but it wasn t any use. I had ever such a time coaxing her to let me come down and say good-bye to you. She said I was only to stay ten minutes and she s timing me by the clock." "Ten minutes isn t very long to say an eternal farewell in," said Anne tearfully. "Oh, Diana, will you promise faithfully never to forget me, the friend of your youth, no matter what dearer friends may caress thee?" "Indeed I will," sobbed Diana, "and I ll never have another bosom friend--I don t want to have. I couldn t love anybody as I love you." "Oh, Diana," cried Anne, clasping her hands, "do you LOVE me?" "Why, of course I do. Didn t you know that?" "No." Anne drew a long breath. "I thought you LIKED me of course but I never hoped you LOVED me. Why, Diana, I didn t think anybody could love me. Nobody ever has loved me since I can remember. Oh, this is wonderful! It s a ray of light which will forever shine on the darkness of a path severed from thee, Diana. Oh, just say it once again." "I love you devotedly, Anne," said Diana stanchly, "and I always will, you may be sure of that." "And I will always love thee, Diana," said Anne, solemnly extending her hand. "In the years to come thy memory will shine like a star over my lonely life, as that last story we read together says. Diana, wilt thou give me a lock of thy jet-black tresses in parting to treasure forevermore?" "Have you got anything to cut it with?" queried Diana, wiping away the tears which Anne s affecting accents had caused to flow afresh, and returning to practicalities. "Yes. I ve got my patchwork scissors in my apron pocket fortunately," said Anne. She solemnly clipped one of Diana s curls. "Fare thee well, my beloved friend. Henceforth we must be as strangers though living side by side. But my heart will ever be faithful to thee." Anne stood and watched Diana out of sight, mournfully waving her hand to the latter whenever she turned to look back. Then she returned to the house, not a little consoled for the time being by this romantic parting. "It is all over," she informed Marilla. "I shall never have another friend. I m really worse off than ever before, for I haven t Katie Maurice and Violetta now. And even if I had it wouldn t be the same. Somehow, little dream girls are not satisfying after a real friend. Diana and I had such an affecting farewell down by the spring. It will be sacred in my memory forever. I used the most pathetic language I could think of and said `thou and `thee. `Thou and `thee seem so much more romantic than `you. Diana gave me a lock of her hair and I m going to sew it up in a little bag and wear it around my neck all my life. Please see that it is buried with me, for I don t believe I ll live very long. Perhaps when she sees me lying cold and dead before her Mrs. Barry may feel remorse for what she has done and will let Diana come to my funeral." "I don t think there is much fear of your dying of grief as long as you can talk, Anne," said Marilla unsympathetically. The following Monday Anne surprised Marilla by coming down from her room with her basket of books on her arm and hip and her lips primmed up into a line of determination. "I m going back to school," she announced. "That is all there is left in life for me, now that my friend has been ruthlessly torn from me. In school I can look at her and muse over days departed." "You d better muse over your lessons and sums," said Marilla, concealing her delight at this development of the situation. "If you re going back to school I hope we ll hear no more of breaking slates over people s heads and such carryings on. Behave yourself and do just what your teacher tells you." "I ll try to be a model pupil," agreed Anne dolefully. "There won t be much fun in it, I expect. Mr. Phillips said Minnie Andrews was a model pupil and there isn t a spark of imagination or life in her. She is just dull and poky and never seems to have a good time. But I feel so depressed that perhaps it will come easy to me now. I m going round by the road. I couldn t bear to go by the Birch Path all alone. I should weep bitter tears if I did." Anne was welcomed back to school with open arms. Her imagination had been sorely missed in games, her voice in the singing and her dramatic ability in the perusal aloud of books at dinner hour. Ruby Gillis smuggled three blue plums over to her during testament reading; Ella May MacPherson gave her an enormous yellow pansy cut from the covers of a floral catalogue--a species of desk decoration much prized in Avonlea school. Sophia Sloane offered to teach her a perfectly elegant new pattern of knit lace, so nice for trimming aprons. Katie Boulter gave her a perfume bottle to keep slate water in, and Julia Bell copied carefully on a piece of pale pink paper scalloped on the edges the following effusion When twilight drops her curtain down And pins it with a star Remember that you have a friend Though she may wander far. "It s so nice to be appreciated," sighed Anne rapturously to Marilla that night. The girls were not the only scholars who "appreciated" her. When Anne went to her seat after dinner hour--she had been told by Mr. Phillips to sit with the model Minnie Andrews--she found on her desk a big luscious "strawberry apple." Anne caught it up all ready to take a bite when she remembered that the only place in Avonlea where strawberry apples grew was in the old Blythe orchard on the other side of the Lake of Shining Waters. Anne dropped the apple as if it were a red-hot coal and ostentatiously wiped her fingers on her handkerchief. The apple lay untouched on her desk until the next morning, when little Timothy Andrews, who swept the school and kindled the fire, annexed it as one of his perquisites. Charlie Sloane s slate pencil, gorgeously bedizened with striped red and yellow paper, costing two cents where ordinary pencils cost only one, which he sent up to her after dinner hour, met with a more favorable reception. Anne was graciously pleased to accept it and rewarded the donor with a smile which exalted that infatuated youth straightway into the seventh heaven of delight and caused him to make such fearful errors in his dictation that Mr. Phillips kept him in after school to rewrite it. But as, The Caesar s pageant shorn of Brutus bust Did but of Rome s best son remind her more. so the marked absence of any tribute or recognition from Diana Barry who was sitting with Gertie Pye embittered Anne s little triumph. "Diana might just have smiled at me once, I think," she mourned to Marilla that night. But the next morning a note most fearfully and wonderfully twisted and folded, and a small parcel were passed across to Anne. Dear Anne (ran the former) Mother says I m not to play with you or talk to you even in school. It isn t my fault and don t be cross at me, because I love you as much as ever. I miss you awfully to tell all my secrets to and I don t like Gertie Pye one bit. I made you one of the new bookmarkers out of red tissue paper. They are awfully fashionable now and only three girls in school know how to make them. When you look at it remember Your true friend Diana Barry. Anne read the note, kissed the bookmark, and dispatched a prompt reply back to the other side of the school. My own darling Diana -- Of course I am not cross at you because you have to obey your mother. Our spirits can commune. I shall keep your lovely present forever. Minnie Andrews is a very nice little girl--although she has no imagination--but after having been Diana s busum friend I cannot be Minnie s. Please excuse mistakes because my spelling isn t very good yet, although much improoved. Yours until death us do part Anne or Cordelia Shirley. P.S. I shall sleep with your letter under my pillow tonight. A. OR C.S. Marilla pessimistically expected more trouble since Anne had again begun to go to school. But none developed. Perhaps Anne caught something of the "model" spirit from Minnie Andrews; at least she got on very well with Mr. Phillips thenceforth. She flung herself into her studies heart and soul, determined not to be outdone in any class by Gilbert Blythe. The rivalry between them was soon apparent; it was entirely good natured on Gilbert s side; but it is much to be feared that the same thing cannot be said of Anne, who had certainly an unpraiseworthy tenacity for holding grudges. She was as intense in her hatreds as in her loves. She would not stoop to admit that she meant to rival Gilbert in schoolwork, because that would have been to acknowledge his existence which Anne persistently ignored; but the rivalry was there and honors fluctuated between them. Now Gilbert was head of the spelling class; now Anne, with a toss of her long red braids, spelled him down. One morning Gilbert had all his sums done correctly and had his name written on the blackboard on the roll of honor; the next morning Anne, having wrestled wildly with decimals the entire evening before, would be first. One awful day they were ties and their names were written up together. It was almost as bad as a take-notice and Anne s mortification was as evident as Gilbert s satisfaction. When the written examinations at the end of each month were held the suspense was terrible. The first month Gilbert came out three marks ahead. The second Anne beat him by five. But her triumph was marred by the fact that Gilbert congratulated her heartily before the whole school. It would have been ever so much sweeter to her if he had felt the sting of his defeat. Mr. Phillips might not be a very good teacher; but a pupil so inflexibly determined on learning as Anne was could hardly escape making progress under any kind of teacher. By the end of the term Anne and Gilbert were both promoted into the fifth class and allowed to begin studying the elements of "the branches"--by which Latin, geometry, French, and algebra were meant. In geometry Anne met her Waterloo. "It s perfectly awful stuff, Marilla," she groaned. "I m sure I ll never be able to make head or tail of it. There is no scope for imagination in it at all. Mr. Phillips says I m the worst dunce he ever saw at it. And Gil--I mean some of the others are so smart at it. It is extremely mortifying, Marilla. "Even Diana gets along better than I do. But I don t mind being beaten by Diana. Even although we meet as strangers now I still love her with an INEXTINGUISHABLE love. It makes me very sad at times to think about her. But really, Marilla, one can t stay sad very long in such an interesting world, can one?" CHAPTER XVI UP CHAPTER XVIII 今日 - | 昨日 - | Total - since 05 June 2007 last update 2007-06-05 01 24 04 (Tue)
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【Tags 150P IA Suzumu tH tL K】 Original Music title 孤独ノ隠レンボ English music title Lonely Hide-and-Seek / Hide and Seek of Isolation Romaji music title Kodoku no Kakurenbo Lyrics written by スズム (Suzumu) Music written by 150P Music arranged by 150P Singer(s) IA Click here for the original Japanese Lyrics English Lyrics (translated by renna_usagi): The story begins, the curtain opens The protagonist a gimmick pierrot in a comedy of laughing rain Your face reflected in the cloudy muddy water Fed up with the mundane daily routine In your favorite love story, inferences are scattered about In dreams or in the present, mass psychology From the sin of the pulling out the bookmark Overflowing, the toy gently opens 1 7 1 3 The fairy tale I found; like a ripe fruit The crowd goes mad for the sweet honey, subduing emotion After the rain, there's nothing, look-- the laughing shadow is trembling The innocent adoration opened the book The game for this boredom is beginning Mundane daily routine, distant compensation Hide the eyes of the demon, the taste of cut iron If there is a red silk, are your preperatations complete? Clutching the train tickets The informing clockhands captivates your eyes 1 2 0 3 Shall we begin? Hide-and-seek "The first demon is me" Emitting noise, the television cries proof of existence 120 nothings, the laughing you reveals that, "Next is your turn to be the demon" A strange story heard from somewhere Living people, deceased people, special broadcast "Now then, the one that dies today is the innocent you" Prediction? Leeway? Given knowledge? A nonexistant expression Look, it's overlapping Look, my face was seen Now, the final chapter approaches the limit Ah, the demon is coming, the demon is already coming Hey, the mad, innocent demon is coming The fairy tale I found; the ripe fruit withers Sweet honey, lured into the evening showers, paranormal phenomena The end of the play; Look, the shadow of summer is beside you Over there the demon is sneering "My victory" Come, shall we begin? Hide-and-seek "Who is the real demon?" The prologue is ironically told; a perfect crime An early summer rumor, playing alone The reincarnated cat on the bookmark says, "Next IS your TURN to BE the DEMON" Romaji lyrics (transliterated by haru47): monogatari no hajimari akeru maku shuyaku gimikku piero no kigeki no warai ame nigotta doromizu ni utsutta kimi no kao heibonna nichijou unzari datta enbun koubutsu de suisoku hakichirashi yume ka utsutsu ka ni sa taishuu shinri hiita batsu no shiori kara afuredasu omocha sotto hirogete 1713 mitsukedashita otogibanashi ureta kajitsu no you ni amai mitsu muragari kuruu kanjou seifuku ameagari nan demo nai warau kage ga hora yureru hon wo aketa mujakina doukei taikutsushinogi ni sa hajimeru kono geemu heibon na nichijou hedataru daishou oni no me wo kakushite kirisaku tetsu no aji akaku tsumugi ireba junbi kanryou? joushaken nigirishimete tsugeru hari kimi no me ubau 1203 hajimeyou ka kakurenbo "saisho no oni wa boku da" noizu utsusu terebi wa naku sonzai shoumei hyaku nijuu no nan demo nai warau kimi ga hora morasu "tsugi wa kimi ga oni no ban" da to dokoka de kiita fushigina hanashi iruhito nakihito rinji housou "sate honjitsu shinu no wa mujakina anata" yochi? yochi? yochi? kaimu hyoujou hora kasanatta hora kao miseta saa rimitto sematta saishuushou aa oni ga kuru mou oni ga kuru nee mujakini kurutta oni ga kuru mitsukedashita otogibanashi ureta kajitsu wa karete amai mitsu yuudachi sasou choujougenshou shuuen no hitori asobi natsu no kage ga hora soba ni soko ni ita oni ga waratta "boku no kachi" hajimeyou saa kakurenbo wo "hontou no oni wa dare da?" puroroogu wa hiniku ni tsugeru kanzen hanzai shoka no uwasa hitori asobi rin'nesuru shiori neko "tsugi wa kimi ga oni no ban da" to [150P, 150-P, Suzumu]