World Masterpiece Theater
Silver Zero Subs
Kikoeru kashira
Do you hear? Hooves beating
Original story by Lucy Maud Montgomery
AKAGE NO ANNE
Hizume no oto
A carriage goes through the gentle hills
Yuruyakana oka wo nutte
Kaketekuru basha
Someone comes to pick me up
Mukae ni kuru no mukae ni kuru no ne
And takes me
Dare ka ga
Watashi wo tsureteyuku no ne
Shiroi hana no michi he
To the avenue with white flowers
To the home of wind
Kaze no furusato he
He takes me
Tsureteyuku no ne
I'm sure
Tsureteyuku no ne
Anne's History
Little Jerry Buote from the Creek was here this morning
and I told him I guessed I'd hire him for the summer.
Matthew, you said you would adopt a boy to help out!
Goodbye, Bonny! Goodbye, Snow Queen!
Mr. Cuthbert, goodbye!
Goodbye!
I've made up my mind to enjoy this drive.
If I make up my mind to, I definitely will.
I am not going to think about going back to the asylum
while we're having our drive.
Oh, look, there's one little early wild rose out!
Isn't it lovely? Don't you think it must be glad to be a rose?
Wouldn't it be nice if roses could talk?
I'm sure they could tell us such lovely things.
And isn't pink the most bewitching color in the world?
I love it, but I can't wear it.
Redheaded people can't wear pink, not even in imagination.
Did you ever know of anybody whose hair was red when she was young,
but got to be another color when she grew up?
No, I don't know as I ever did,
and I shouldn't think it likely to happen in your case either.
Well, that is another hope gone.
My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.
That's a sentence I read in a book once,
and I say it over to comfort myself whenever I'm disappointed in anything.
I don't see where the comforting comes in myself.
Why, because it sounds so nice and romantic...
Just as if I were a heroine in a book, you know.
Are we going across the Lake of Shining Waters today?
We're not going over Barry's pond,
if that's what you mean by your Lake of Shining Waters.
We're going by the shore road.
Shore road sounds nice!
Just when you said shore road I saw it in a picture in my mind, as quick as that!
How far is it to White Sands?
It's five miles.
And as you're evidently bent on talking you might as well talk to some purpose
by telling me what you know about yourself.
Oh, what I know about myself isn't really worth telling.
If you'll only let me tell you what I imagine about myself,
you'll think it ever so much more interesting.
No, I don't want any of your imaginings.
Just you stick to bald facts.
Begin at the beginning. Where were you born and how old are you?
What's wrong?
Tell me!
No!
What's the point?
I don't want to think about those things.
Is this the child from the orphanage?
But Rachel said that it was a boy.
You hardly see Rachel like that, mixing up a girl for a boy.
No, it's not that.
The true is... Something went wrong, and she replaced the boy.
Oh my! That is so unfortunate.
But how did this happen?
I don't know myself!
That´s why I'm going to ask Mrs. Spencer at White Sands
what this is about.
Although it´s an error, she has to be sent back.
Poor child.
I'm sorry! I´m in a rush...
Anne! What´s wrong?
Anne! Anne! Come back!
Anne!
I´m sorry! I´ve wasted much of your time!
Well, I have things to do, so...
I´m sorry, Miss. Cuthbert.
I´m all right now, please continue.
I´m sorry too. I never cared for your feelings.
I´ll tell you about my past.
I´ll talk from my birth.
I was born in Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia.
And I was eleven last March.
My father's name was Walter Shirley,
and he was a teacher in the Bolingbroke High School.
My mother's name was Bertha Shirley.
Aren't Walter and Bertha lovely names?
I'm so glad my parents had nice names.
It would be a real disgrace to have a father named...well..
Say Jedediah, wouldn't it?
I guess it doesn't matter what a person's name is as long as he behaves himself.
Well, I don't know.
I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,
but I've never been able to believe it.
I don't believe a rose would be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.
I suppose my father could have been a good man even if he had been called Jedediah,
but I'm sure it would have been a cross.
Well, that's it for the names. Tell me about your parents.
Well, my mother was a teacher in the High school, too,
but when she married father
they went to live in a weeny-teeny little yellow house in Bolingbroke.
I've never seen that house, but I've imagined it thousands of times.
I think it must have had honeysuckle over the parlor window,
and lilacs in the front yard,
and lilies of the valley just inside the gate.
Yes, I didn't go there anytime, but I can see it once I close my eyes.
And muslin curtains in all the windows.
Muslin curtains give a house such an air.
I was born in that house.
Mrs. Thomas said I was the homeliest baby she ever saw...
I was so scrawny and tiny and nothing but eyes.
Although I still am now.
But mother thought I was perfectly beautiful.
I should think a mother would be a better judge
than a poor woman who came in to scrub, wouldn't you?
Any mother would love her own child and think it beautiful.
I'm glad she was satisfied with me anyhow...
I would feel so sad if I thought I was a disappointment to her.
Because she didn't live very long after that, you see.
She died of fever when I was just three months old.
I do wish she'd lived long enough for me to remember calling her mother.
I think it would be so sweet to say 'mother,' don't you?
I really wished I had someone that I could call mother.
Mother!
Or...
Mommy!
Or...
Mama!
Like that.
But I never even called my mother once.
It´s a bit too much for a 3 month old baby.
And father died four days afterwards from fever too.
That left me an orphan and folks were at their wits end,
so Mrs. Thomas said, what to do with me.
You see, nobody wanted me even then.
It seems to be my fate.
Anne's words stopped here...
And Marilla didn't persue, while wating patiently for Anne to speak.
As Anne thinks of her mother and sighs...
She looks at the sea and continues to talk about her past.
Although she digresses at times.
But to Anne this was what was needed to continue talking.
Father and mother had both come from places far away,
and it was well known they hadn't any relatives living.
Finally Mrs. Thomas said she'd take me,
though she was poor and had a drunken husband.
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas moved away from Bolingbroke to Marysville.
I helped look after the Thomas children younger than me.
And I can tell you they took a lot of looking after.
Because Mrs. Thomas was busy working everyday.
And Mr. Thomas didn't know how to take care of children.
Then Mr. Thomas was killed falling under a train.
Mrs. Thomas was at her wits end, so she said, what to do with me.
Then Mrs. Hammond from up the river came,
and said she'd take me, seeing I was handy with children,
and I went up the river to live with her in a little clearing among the stumps.
It was a very lonesome place.
I'm sure I could never have lived there if I hadn't had an imagination.
Mr. Hammond worked a little sawmill up there,
and Mrs. Hammond had eight children.
She had twins three times.
I like babies in moderation, but twins three times in succession is too much.
I told Mrs. Hammond so firmly, when the last pair came.
I used to get so dreadfully tired carrying them about.
I lived up river with Mrs. Hammond over two years,
and then Mr. Hammond died and Mrs. Hammond broke up housekeeping.
She divided her children among her relatives and went to the States.
I had to go to the asylum at Hopetown, because nobody would take me.
They didn't want me at the asylum, either. they said they were over-crowded as it was.
I was there four months until Mrs. Spencer came.
Did you ever go to school?
Yes.
But not a great deal.
When I went up river we were so far from a school that I couldn't walk it in winter
and there was a vacation in summer, so I could only go in the spring and fall.
But I can read pretty well and I know ever so many pieces of poetry off by heart.
I loved the books my parents gave me,
they made me understand many things.
But I accidentally mistook them for rubbish
and threw them away when I went to the asylum.
Well...were those women...
Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hammond... good to you?
Oh, they meant to be...
I know they meant to be just as good and kind as possible.
And when people mean to be good to you,
you don't mind very much when they're not quite always.
They had a good deal to worry them.
It's very trying to have a drunken husband, you see.
And it must be very trying to have twins three times in succession, don't you think?
But I feel sure they meant to be good to me.
Marilla asked no more questions.
Anne gave herself up to a silent rapture over the shore road,
and Marilla guided the sorrel abstractedly while she pondered deeply.
Isn't the sea wonderful?
Once, Mr. Thomas hired an express wagon
and took us all to spend the day at the shore ten miles away.
I enjoyed every moment of that day, even if I had to look after the children all the time.
I lived it over in happy dreams for years.
Aren't those gulls splendid?
Would you like to be a gull?
I think I would.
Don't you think it would be nice to wake up at sunrise,
and swoop down over the water and away out over that lovely blue all day.
And then at night to fly back to one's nest?
What big house is that just ahead, please?
That's the White Sands Hotel.
There are heaps of Americans come there for the summer.
I was afraid it might be Mrs. Spencer's place.
I don't want to get there.
Somehow, it will seem like the end of everything.
But as matters went...
the carriage continued proceeding to Mrs. Spencer's place at White Sands Cove.
Mrs. Spencer discovers it was entirely a misunderstand,
and an old lady who wanted to adopt Anne appeared.
Next of Anne of Green Gables: Marilla Makes Up Her Mind.
Please watch!
Hashittemo hashittemo
Owaranai hana no nami
Mizuumi ha tooku
Moeru kumo ha motto tooku
Hana no naka de ichinichiha owaru
Samenai yume mitai ni