`` The race that knows Joseph ? '' puzzled Anne . `` Yes . Cornelia divides all the folks in the world into two kinds -- the race that knows Joseph and the race that do n't . If a person sorter sees eye to eye with you , and has pretty much the same ideas about things , and the same taste in jokes -- why , then he belongs to the race that knows Joseph . '' `` Oh , I understand , '' exclaimed Anne , light breaking in upon her . `` It 's what I used to call -- and still call in quotation marks ` kindred spirits . ' '' `` Jest so -- jest so , '' agreed Captain Jim . `` We 're it , whatever IT is . When you come in tonight , Mistress Blythe , I says to myself , says I , ` Yes , she 's of the race that knows Joseph . ' And mighty glad I was , for if it was n't so we could n't have had any real satisfaction in each other 's company . 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 XXXXX never got out-at-elbows .
Anne Blythe Cornelia Gilbert Jim Joseph Lombardies princesses sorter spring