Ten good lines out of four hundred, Emily-comparatively good, that is-and all the rest balderdash-balderdash, Emily."
"I-suppose so," said Emily faintly.
Her eyes brimmed with tears-her lips quivered. She could not help it. Pride was hopelessly submerged in the bitterness of her disappointment. She felt exactly like a candle that somebody had blown out.
"What are you crying for? demanded Mr. Carpenter.
Emily blinked away tears and tried to laugh.
"I-I'm sorry-you think it's no good-" she said.
Mr. Carpenter gave the desk a mighty thump.
"No good! Didn't I tell you there were ten good lines? Jade, for ten righteous men Sodom had been spared."
"Do you mean-that-after all-" The candle was being relighted again.
"Of course, I mean. If at thirteen you can write ten good lines, at twenty you'll write ten times ten-if the gods are kind. Stop messing over months, though-and don't imagine you're a genius, either, if you have written ten decent lines. I think there's something trying to speak through you-but you'll have to make yourself a fit instrument for it. You've got to work hard and sacrifice-by gad, girl, you've chosen a jealous goddess. And she never lets her votaries go-not even when she shuts her ears forever to their plea.
"I-suppose so," said Emily faintly.
Her eyes brimmed with tears-her lips quivered. She could not help it. Pride was hopelessly submerged in the bitterness of her disappointment. She felt exactly like a candle that somebody had blown out.
"What are you crying for? demanded Mr. Carpenter.
Emily blinked away tears and tried to laugh.
"I-I'm sorry-you think it's no good-" she said.
Mr. Carpenter gave the desk a mighty thump.
"No good! Didn't I tell you there were ten good lines? Jade, for ten righteous men Sodom had been spared."
"Do you mean-that-after all-" The candle was being relighted again.
"Of course, I mean. If at thirteen you can write ten good lines, at twenty you'll write ten times ten-if the gods are kind. Stop messing over months, though-and don't imagine you're a genius, either, if you have written ten decent lines. I think there's something trying to speak through you-but you'll have to make yourself a fit instrument for it. You've got to work hard and sacrifice-by gad, girl, you've chosen a jealous goddess. And she never lets her votaries go-not even when she shuts her ears forever to their plea.
( L.M. Montgomery )
[ Emily of New Moon ]
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