Other editions of book Further Chronicles of Avonlea which Have to Do with Many Personalities and Events in and about Avonlea

Max always blesses the animal when it is referred to; and I don't deny that things have worked together for good after all. But when I think of the anguish of mind which Ismay and I underwent on account of that abominable cat, it is not a blessing that arises uppermost in my thoughts.I never was fond of cats, although I admit they are well enough in their place, and I can worry along comfortably with a nice, matronly old tabby who can take care of herself and be of some use in the world. As for Ismay, she hates cats and always did.But Aunt Cynthia, who adored them, never could bring herself to understand that any one could possibly dislike them. She firmly believed that Ismay and I really liked cats deep down in our hearts, but that, owing to some perverse twist in our moral natures, we would not own up to it, but willfully persisted in declaring we didn't.Of all cats I loathed that white Persian cat of Aunt Cynthia's. And, indeed, as we always suspected and finally proved, Aunt herself looked upon the creature with more pride than affection. She would have taken ten times the comfort in a good, common puss that she did in that spoiled beauty. But a Persian cat with a recorded pedigree and a market value of one hundred dollars tickled Aunt Cynthia's pride of possession to such an extent that she deluded herself into believing that the animal was really the apple of her eye.It had been presented to her when a kitten by a missionary nephew who had brought it all the way home from Persia; and for the next three years Aunt Cynthia's household existed to wait on that cat, hand and foot. It was snow-white, with a bluish-gray spot on the tip of its tail; and it was blue-eyed and deaf and delicate. Aunt Cynthia was always worrying lest it should take cold and die. Ismay and I used to wish that it would—we were so tired of hearing about it and its whims. But we did not say so to Aunt Cynthia. She would probably never have spoken to us again and there was no wisdom in offending Aunt Cynthia. When you have an unencumbered aunt, with a fat bank account, it is just as well to keep on good terms with her, if you can. Besides, we really liked Aunt Cynthia very much—at times. Aunt Cynthia was one of those rather exasperating people who nag at and find fault with you until you think you are justified in hating them, and who then turn round and do something so really nice and kind for you that you feel as if you were compelled to love them dutifully instead.So we listened meekly when she discoursed on Fatima—the cat's name was Fatima—and, if it was wicked of us to wish for the latter's decease, we were well punished for it later on. - Taken from "Further Chronicles of Avonlea" written by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Further Chronicles of Avonlea is a collection of short stories by L. M. Montgomery and is a sequel to Chronicles of Avonlea. Published in 1920, it includes a number of stories relating to the inhabitants of the fictional Canadian village of Avonlea and its region, located on Prince Edward Island. Sometimes marketed as a book in the Anne Shirley series, Anne plays only a minor role in the book: out of the 15 stories in the collection, she narrates and stars in only one ("The Little Brown Book of Miss Emily"), and is briefly mentioned in passing in two others ("Aunt Cynthia's Persian Cat" and "The Return of Hester").

Max always blesses the animal when it is referred to; and I don't deny that things have worked together for good after all. But when I think of the anguish of mind which Ismay and I underwent on account of that abominable cat, it is not a blessing that arises uppermost in my thoughts. I never was fond of cats, although I admit they are well enough in their place, and I can worry along comfortably with a nice, matronly old tabby who can take care of herself and be of some use in the world. As for Ismay, she hates cats and always did. But Aunt Cynthia, who adored them, never could bring herself to understand that any one could possibly dislike them. She firmly believed that Ismay and I really liked cats deep down in our hearts, but that, owing to some perverse twist in our moral natures, we would not own up to it, but willfully persisted in declaring we didn't.

Nestled in the seaside hills of Prince Edward Island, there’s a road to a place called Green Gables where a girl named Anne grew up. Here, not far from the cold Atlantic and close to the warmth of a loving heart, is Avonlea. In this second volume of wonderful adventures a ghostly appearance in a garden teaches us about the real meaning of love…a pretty young girl risks losing her dear mother to find the father she never knew…and a foolish lie threatens to make a spinster the town’s laughing stock when an imaginary lover comes to town for real! Warm and touching, rich and exciting, these and a dozen more delightful tales are stories to cherish, in a book you’ll never want to end.

Further Chronicles of Avonlea is a collection of short stories by L. M. Montgomery and is a sequel to Chronicles of Avonlea. Published in 1920, it includes a number of stories relating to the inhabitants of the fictional Canadian village of Avonlea and its region, located on Prince Edward Island. Sometimes marketed as a book in the Anne Shirley series, Anne plays only a minor role in the book: out of the 15 stories in the collection, she narrates and stars in only one ("The Little Brown Book of Miss Emily"), and is briefly mentioned in passing in two others ("Aunt Cynthia's Persian Cat" and "The Return of Hester"). Three other characters from the Anne books are seen in brief secondary roles: Diana Barry and Marilla Cuthbert in "The Little Brown Book of Miss Emily", and Rachel Lynde in "Sara's Way". As well, Matthew Cuthbert is mentioned in passing in "The Conscience Case of David Bell".

Nestled between the ocean and the hills of Prince Edward Island is a road that leads to the house where a girl named Anne grew up, Green Gables, and to the wonderful place called Avonlea. In this second volume of heartwarming tales a Persian cat plays an astonishing part in a marriage proposal . . . a ghostly appearance in a garden leads a woman to the fulfillment of her youthful dreams . . . a young girl risks losing her mother to find the father she never knew . . . and a foolish lie threatens to make an unattached woman the town's laughingstock when an imaginary lover comes to town for real! Filled with warmth, humor, and mystery, these unforgettable stories re-create the enchanting world of Avonlea.

Nestled in the seaside hills of Prince Edward Island, there’s a road to a place called Green Gables where a girl named Anne grew up. Here, not far from the cold Atlantic and close to the warmth of a loving heart, is Avonlea. In this second volume of wonderful adventures a ghostly appearance in a garden teaches us about the real meaning of love…a pretty young girl risks losing her dear mother to find the father she never knew…and a foolish lie threatens to make a spinster the town’s laughing stock when an imaginary lover comes to town for real! Warm and touching, rich and exciting, these and a dozen more delightful tales are stories to cherish, in a book you’ll never want to end.

Max always blesses the animal when it is referred to; and I don't deny that things have worked together for good after all. But when I think of the anguish of mind which Ismay and I underwent on account of that abominable cat, it is not a blessing that arises uppermost in my thoughts. I never was fond of cats, although I admit they are well enough in their place, and I can worry along comfortably with a nice, matronly old tabby who can take care of herself and be of some use in the world. As for Ismay, she hates cats and always did. But Aunt Cynthia, who adored them, never could bring herself to understand that any one could possibly dislike them. She firmly believed that Ismay and I really liked cats deep down in our hearts, but that, owing to some perverse twist in our moral natures, we would not own up to it, but willfully persisted in declaring we didn't.