The race that knows Joseph is the salt of the airth , I reckon . '' The moon had just risen when Anne and Gilbert went to the door with their guests . Four Winds Harbor was beginning to be a thing of dream and glamour and enchantment -- a spellbound haven where no tempest might ever ravin . The Lombardies down the lane , tall and sombre as the priestly forms of some mystic band , were tipped with silver . `` Always liked Lombardies , '' said Captain Jim , waving a long arm at them . `` They 're the trees of princesses . They 're out of fashion now . Folks complain that they die at the top and get ragged-looking . So they do -- so they do , if you do n't risk your neck every spring climbing up a light ladder to trim them out . I always did it for Miss Elizabeth , so her Lombardies never got out-at-elbows . She was especially fond of them . She liked their dignity and stand-offishness . THEY do n't hobnob with every Tom , Dick and Harry . If it 's maples for company , Mistress Blythe , it 's Lombardies for society . '' `` What a beautiful night , '' said Mrs. Doctor Dave , as she climbed into the Doctor 's buggy . `` Most nights are beautiful , '' said Captain Jim . `` But I ` low that moonlight over Four Winds makes me sorter wonder what 's left for heaven . The moon 's a great friend of mine , Mistress Blythe . I 've loved her ever since I can remember . When I was a little chap of eight I fell asleep in the garden one evening and was n't missed .
I woke up along in the XXXXX and I was most scared to death .
Dave Doctor Gilbert Joseph Tom left night nights out-at-elbows sorter