"Opportunities in life comes once in a blue moon. So when a good one comes your way you have to take it, because you make never get that same opportunity again..."
Gilbert Blythe x OC
(Based off Anne with an e season one.)
All rights go to the produ...
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S I X ;
Sweet Old Jealousy
It's the last 20 minutes before lunch and Mr Phillips asks us to take out our readers. I turn to Prissy who's sitting there uncomfortably under Mr Phillips gaze as he looks at her. He turns and starts to make his way back up the front. "Open your readers to page 32. We will read aloud Barry Cornwall's poem The Fisherman." Mr Phillips finishes standing up the front.
I let out a sigh of relief, we had been doing History all morning and and it was getting quite boring. I'm just glad we're doing something that I actually enjoy. "Diana Barry, stand and begin." He says looking towards the dark haired girl. She stands slowly and clears her voice. "A per-i-lous life, and sad as life may be, Hath the lone fisher - on the lonely sea." Diana says stumbling over the word perilous.
"Perilous indeed sit down." Mr Phillips interrupts not impressed. He then looks towards Anne who is sitting beside Diana. "New girl. Up, continue." He says motioning for Anne to stand up. She stands up a little more eagerly then Diana looking down at her page. ""O'er the wild waters labouring, far from home. For some bleak pittance e'er compelled to roam." Anne starts dramatic using her free hand to wave around in expression.
"Few hearts to cheer him through his dangerous life. And none to aid him in the stormy strife." She continues making the class break out into a small fir of laughter. "Companion of the sea and silent air. The lonely fisher thus must ever fare. Without the comfort, hope, with scarce a friend, he looks through life, and only sees its end!" She finishes loudly with a huge smile on her face. The class looks at her weirdly before letting loud laughs at her performance.
To them they found it hilarious- unfortunately- making Anne look to Diana in annoyance. "Josie Pye. Read Campbell's Pleasures of Hope, The Downfall of Poland." Mr Phillips says making the laughter die down. Josie stands up quickly with a smirk. "O sacred Truth. Thy triumph ceased awhile. And Hope, thy sister, ceased with thee to smile, When leagued oppression poured to Northern wars." Josie says unenthusiasticly.
"Stop." Mr Phillips cuts her. "The whole idea of a poem is to let the piece of writing express the feeling and ideas given." Mr Philips says with a sigh. "Don't butcher a beautiful piece of work Miss Pye." He says shaking his head. Mr Philips looks towards Prissy for a few seconds before his eyes move to me. "Elouise Bellerose, stand and continue."
I look down and my book before standing up hesitantly. Josie gives me a glare before sitting down at her desk again. Remember when I said I enjoyed this, well I'm not enjoying it anymore. I let out a breath finding the spot where Josie finished. "Her whiskered pandoors and her fierce hussars, Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn, Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet-horn;" I speak with emotion though not as much as Anne, I spoke as though I was telling the story.
"Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van, Presaging wrath to Poland, and to man! Warsaw's last champion from her height surveyed, Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid." I continue turning the page to the rest of the poem. "O Heaven! He cried, my bleeding country save! Is there no hand on high to shield the brave? Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains, Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains! By that dread name, we wave the sword on high! And swear for her to live!—with her to die!" I finish feeling confident in my abilities.
