We specialize in hard to find items
All Categories
*Price and Stocks may change without prior notice
*Packaging of actual item may differ from photo shown
- Electrical items MAY be 110 volts.
- 7 Day Return Policy
- All products are genuine and original
About Jane Of Lantern Hill
Product Description The Happiest Summer of Her Life Her whole life, Jane had believed her father was dead. It was, therefore, quite a shock to receive an invitation to stay with him for the summer on Prince Edward Island. From their very first meeting, Jane falls in love with her charming father and his whimsical cottage on Lantern Hill. A whole summer of fun and adventure, meeting neighbors, and making friends―far away from her grandmother's dreary house in the city. If only she could get her mother to come too. As Jane juggles her love and loyalty for both parents, she dares to dream...a dream that she and her parents could live together without Grandmother directing their lives―of a house where they could all find home. What Readers are Saying: "Out of the fantastic books Lucy Maud Montgomery wrote, Jane of Lantern Hill is my absolute favorite." "Jane of Lantern Hill is what one comes to expect from a novel by Lucy Maud Montgomery―charming, gentle, and most decidedly hopeful." "This book is among L.M. Montgomery's best." "Spellbinding...I don't recommend picking it up unless you have time to read the entire book." About the Author L.M. Montgomery achieved international fame in her lifetime that endures well over a century later. A prolific writer, she published some 500 short stories and poems and twenty novels. Most recognized for Anne of Green Gables, her work has been hailed by Mark Twain, Margaret Atwood, Madeleine L'Engle and Princess Kate, to name a few. Today, Montgomery's novels, journals, letters, short stories, and poems are read and studied by general readers and scholars from around the world. Her writing appeals to people who love beauty and to those who struggle against oppression. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. CHAPTER 1 Gay Street, so Jane always thought, did not live up to its name. It was, she felt certain, the most melancholy street in Toronto...though, to be sure, she had not seen a great many of the Toronto streets in her circumscribed comings and goings of eleven years. Gay Street should be a gay street, thought Jane, with gay, friendly houses, set amid flowers, that cried out, "How do you do?" to you as you passed them, with trees that waved hands at you and windows that winked at you in the twilights. Instead of that, Gay Street was dark and dingy, lined with forbidding, old-fashioned brick houses, grimy with age, whose tall, shuttered, blinded windows could never have thought of winking at anybody. The trees that lined Gay Street were so old and huge and stately that it was difficult to think of them as trees at all, any more than those forlorn little things in the green pails by the doors of the filling station on the opposite corner. Grandmother had been furious when the old Adams house on that corner had been torn down and the new white-and-red filling station built in its place. She would never let Frank get gas there. But at that, Jane thought, it was the only gay place on the street. Jane lived at 60 Gay. It was a huge, castellated structure of brick, with a pillared entrance porch, high, arched Georgian windows, and towers and turrets wherever a tower or turret could be wedged in. It was surrounded by a high iron fence with wrought-iron gates...those gates had been famous in the Toronto of an earlier day...that were always closed and locked by Frank at night, thus giving Jane a very nasty feeling that she was a prisoner being locked in. There was more space around 60 Gay than around most of the houses on the street. It had quite a bit of lawn in front, though the grass never grew well because of the row of old trees just inside the fence...and quite a respectable space between the side of the house and Bloor Street; but it was not nearly wide enough to dim the unceasing clatter and clang of Bloor, which was especially noisy and busy where Gay Street joined it. People wondered why old Mrs. Robert Kennedy continued to live there when she had oodles of money
