 Celebrating anniversaries at the library, this year, born in London in probably 1343, Jeffrey Chaucer. This is his 670th anniversary of his birthday. He was the first writer interred in Poets Corner in Westminster Abbey. And though he was not given any money from King Edward III for his poetry, he was given a gallon of wine today. If I was given a gallon of wine today, I couldn't either write along or read it. I'm going to read from the opening of the Canterbury Tales. And the first line given today's weather in Bozeman is a kind of wishful thinking. But it is England. Well, it's really nice. No, but listen. When that April with the Shure Sorta, the Drucht of March, had person to the Lota, and bathed every vein and switched the core of which they're two engendered is the floor. One Zephyrus egg with his suede to breath and spirit half in every hope and earth, a tender cross. And the youngest son half in the realm is Halva Korsiruna. And smaller foolish, mocking melody that's sleeping all the night with open ear. So crick it them, nature and her courage. Van Longen folk to go on pilgrimages, and palmarists for to go on to second strange strandes, to fair the Halva's coot in sundry longings. And specially from every shear's end of Engeland to countabry they went, the holy blissful March were forth to say, that him hath opened, whenth that they were say. Befell that in that saison on a day in Suddark at the tavern as he lay, ready to wend in Unmitil Grimaja, to countabry with full devote courage. At Nivit was common to that hostel Rida, well, nine and 20 in a company of sundry folk, the avant-tour de fallen fellowship, and pilgrimists were the halva, that toward countabry wooden leader. The chambres and the staublists were in weed, and well we were in azid, not the best. And shortly, when the sauna was to rest, the sohari spoken with them, everyone, that he was of her fellowship anon, and nod forward, early for Teresa, to talk or weigh their aziu, Teresa. But, not the less, will he have team and spasse, if not the further, in this talipasa. They think it a cordial to resume to tell you all the condescension of each of them, so azid same in May, and which they were in, and of what degree. And at a knift, then will he first begin. A knift there was, and not a worthy one, that ever throw the team that he first began to read out, a louvage, chivalry, truth, and honor, freedom, and courtesia. For worthy was he in his lordess wearer, and there too had he read no man fairer, as well in Christendom as in Hellness, and ever honor for his worthiness. And Alessandro he was when it was won, for of the team he had the board be gone above and all in nations in truth. In Leto had he raised it, and in truth, no Christian man so off of his degree. In Gerdnad at the say, Jake had a Bay of Alchizir, and the Redin in Belmaria at Lies, was he, and at Satalia, when they were won. And in the great to say, of money and noble army, had he been, at mortal battiles, had he been 15. And Fuchten for our faith, at trauma scene, in list of threes, an ace lay in his fold. His Ilka worthy knift had been also some teamer with the Lord of Palatia, again another haven in Turquia. And ever more he had a silver increase, and though of that hayward worthy, hayward's lease, and of his port as named as is made, he never yet no villainy nesada in all his leaf unto the manor weaved. It was a very perfect gentile commute. But for to tell in you of his array, his horse would go to the hay was not gay, but first in he wear it a chipone, all the smothered with his harbour-john. For hay was latikona from his viagra, and went to fort Trudon, his pilgrimagra.