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Little Women by Louisa May Alcott Prepared and Published by: Ebd E-BooksDirectory.com CHAPTER ONE ‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,’ grumbled Jo, lying on the rug ‘It’s so dreadful to be poor!’ sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress ‘I don’t think it’s fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all,’ added little Amy, with an injured sniff ‘We’ve got Father and Mother, and each other,’ said Beth contentedly from her corner The four young faces on which the firelight shone brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as Jo said sadly, ‘We haven’t got Father, and shall not have him for a long time.’ She didn’t say ‘perhaps never,’ but each silently added it, thinking of Father far away, where the fighting was Nobody spoke for a minute; then Meg said in an altered tone, ‘You know the reason Mother proposed not having any presents this Christmas was because it is going to be a hard winter for everyone; and she thinks we ought not to spend money for pleasure, when our men are suffering so in the army We can’t much, but we can make our little sacrifices, and ought to it gladly But I am afraid I don’t.’ And Meg shook her head, as she thought regretfully of all the pretty things she wanted ‘But I don’t think the little we should spend would any good We’ve each got a dollar, and the army wouldn’t be much helped by our giving that I agree not to expect anything from Mother or you, but I want to buy UNDINE AND SINTRAM for myself I’ve wanted it so long,’ said Jo, who was a bookworm ‘I planned to spend mine in new music,’ said Beth, with a little sigh, which no one heard but the hearth brush and kettle holder ‘I shall get a nice box of Faber’s drawing pencils I really need them,’ said Amy decidedly ‘Mother didn’t say anything about our money, and she won’t wish us to give up everything Let’s each buy what we want, and have a little fun I’m sure we work hard enough to earn it,’ cried Jo, examining the heels of her shoes in a gentlemanly manner ‘I know I do—teaching those tiresome children nearly all day, when I’m longing to enjoy myself at home,’ began Meg, in the complaining tone again ‘You don’t have half such a hard time as I do,’ said Jo ‘How would you like to be shut up for hours with a nervous, fussy old lady, who keeps you trotting, is never satisfied, and worries you till you you’re ready to fly out the window or cry?’ ‘It’s naughty to fret, but I think washing dishes and keeping things tidy is the worst work in the world It makes me cross, and my hands get so stiff, I can’t practice well at all.’ And Beth looked at her rough hands with a sigh that any one could hear that time ‘I don’t believe any of you suffer as I do,’ cried Amy, ‘for you don’t have to go to school with impertinent girls, who plague you if you don’t know your lessons, and laugh at your dresses, and label your father if he isn’t rich, and insult you when your nose isn’t nice.’ ‘If you mean libel, I’d say so, and not talk about labels, as if Papa was a pickle bottle,’ advised Jo, laughing ‘I know what I mean, and you needn’t be statirical about it It’s proper to use good words, and improve your vocabilary,’ returned Amy, with dignity ‘Don’t peck at one another, children Don’t you wish we had the money Papa lost when we were little, Jo? Dear me! How happy and good we’d be, if we had no worries!’ said Meg, who could remember better times ‘You said the other day you thought we were a deal happier than the King children, for they were fighting and fretting all the time, in spite of their money.’ ‘So I did, Beth Well, I think we are For though we have to work, we make fun of ourselves, and are a pretty jolly set, as Jo would say.’ ‘Jo does use such slang words!’ observed Amy, with a reproving look at the long figure stretched on the rug Jo immediately sat up, put her hands in her pockets, and began to whistle ‘Don’t, Jo It’s so boyish!’ ‘That’s why I it.’ ‘I detest rude, unladylike girls!’ ‘I hate affected, niminy-piminy chits!’ ‘Birds in their little nests agree,’ sang Beth, the peacemaker, with such a funny face that both sharp voices softened to a laugh, and the ‘pecking’ ended for that time ‘Really, girls, you are both to be blamed,’ said Meg, beginning to lecture in her elder-sisterly fashion.’You are old enough to leave off boyish tricks, and to behave better, Josephine It didn’t matter so much when you were a little girl, but now you are so tall, and turn up your hair, you should remember that you are a young lady.’ ‘I’m not! And if turning up my hair makes me one, I’ll wear it in two tails till I’m twenty,’ cried Jo, pulling off her net, and shaking down a chestnut mane ‘I hate to think I’ve got to grow up, and be Miss March, and wear long gowns, and look as prim as a China Aster! It’s bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boy’s games and work and manners! I can’t get over my disappointment in not being a boy And it’s worse than ever now, for I’m dying to go and fight with Papa And I can only stay home and knit, like a poky old woman!’ And Jo shook the blue army sock till the needles rattled like castanets, and her ball bounded across the room ‘Poor Jo! It’s too bad, but it can’t be helped So you must try to be contented with making your name boyish, and playing brother to us girls,’ said Beth, stroking the rough head with a hand that all the dish washing and dusting in the world could not make ungentle in its touch ‘As for you, Amy,’ continued Meg, ‘you are altogether to particular and prim Your airs are funny now, but you’ll grow up an affected little goose, if you don’t take care I I like your nice manners and refined ways of speaking, when you don’t try to be elegant But your absurd words are as bad as Jo’s slang.’ ‘If Jo is a tomboy and Amy a goose, what am I, please?’ asked Beth, ready to share the lecture ‘You’re a dear, and nothing else,’ answered Meg warmly, and no one contradicted her, for the ‘Mouse’ was the pet of the family As young readers like to know ‘how people look’, we will take this moment to give them a little sketch of the four sisters, who sat knitting away in the twilight, while the December snow fell quietly without, and the fire crackled cheerfully within It was a comfortable room, though the carpet was faded and the furniture very plain, for a good picture or two on the walls, books filled the recesses, chrysanthemums and Christmas roses bloomed in the windows, and a pleasant atmosphere of home peace pervaded it Margaret, the eldest of the four, was sixteen, and very pretty, being plump and fair, with large eyes, plenty of soft brown hair, a sweet mouth, and white hands, of which she was rather vain Fifteen- year-old Jo was very tall, thin, and brown, and reminded one of a colt, for she never seemed to know what to with her long limbs, which were very much in her way She had a decided mouth, a comical nose, and sharp, gray eyes, which appeared to see everything, and were by turns fierce, funny, or thoughtful Her long, thick hair was her one beauty, but it was usually bundled into a net, to be out of her way Round shoulders had Jo, big hands and feet, a flyaway look to her clothes, and the uncomfortable appearance of a girl who was rapidly shooting up into a woman and didn’t like it Elizabeth, or Beth, as everyone called her, was a rosy, smoothhaired, bright-eyed girl of thirteen, with a shy manner, a timid voice, and a ;peaceful expression which was seldom disturbed Her father called her ‘Little Miss Tranquility’, and the name suited her excellently, for she seemed to live in a happy world of her own, only venturing out to meet the few whom she trusted and loved Amy, though the youngest, was a most important person, in her own opinion at least A regular snow maiden, with blue eyes, and yellow hair curling on her shoulders, pale and slender, and always carrying herself like a young lady mindful of her manners What the characters of the four sisters were we will leave to be found out The clock struck six and, having swept up the hearth, Beth put a pair of slippers down to warm Somehow the sight of the old shoes had a good effect upon the girls, for Mother was coming, and everyone brightened to welcome her Meg stopped lecturing, and lighted the lamp, Amy got out of the easy chair without being asked, and Jo forgot how tired she was as she sat up to hold the slippers nearer to the blaze ‘They are quite worn out Marmee must have a new pair.’ ‘I thought I’d get her some with my dollar,’ said Beth ‘No, I shall!’ cried Amy ‘I’m the oldest,’ began Meg, but Jo cut in with a decided, ‘I’m the man of the family now Papa is away, and I shall provide the slippers, for he told me to take special care of Mother while he was gone.’ ‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do,’ said Beth, ‘let’s each get her something for Christmas, land not get anything for ourselves.’ ‘That’s like you, dear! What will we get?’ exclaimed Jo Everyone thought soberly for a minute, then Meg announced, as if the idea was suggested by the sight of her own pretty hands, ‘I shall give her a nice pair of gloves.’ ‘Army shoes, best to be had,’ cried Jo ‘Some handkerchiefs, all hemmed,’ said Beth ‘I’ll get a little bottle of cologne She likes it, and it won’t cost much, so I’ll have some left to buy my pencils,’ added Amy ‘How will we give the things?’ asked Meg ‘Put them on the table, and bring her in and see her open the bundles Don’t you remember how we used to on our birthdays?’ answered Jo ‘I used to be so frightened when it was my turn to sit in the chair with the crown on, and see you all come marching round to give the presents, with a kiss I liked the things and the kisses, but it was dreadful to have you sit looking at me while I opened the bundles,’ said Beth, who was toasting her face and the bread for tea at the same time ‘Let Marmee think we are getting things for ourselves, and then surprise her We must go shopping tomorrow afternoon, Meg There is so much to about the play for Christmas night,’ said Jo, marching up and down, with her hands behind her back, and her nose in the air ‘I don’t mean to act any more after this time I’m getting too old for such things,’ observed Meg, who was as much a child as ever about ‘dressingup’ frolics ‘You won’t stop, I know, as long as you can trail round in a white gown with your hair down, and wear gold-paper jewelry You are the best actress we’ve got, and there’ll be an end of everything if you quit the boards,’ said Jo ‘We ought to rehearse tonight Come here, Amy, and the fainting scene, for you are as stiff as a poker in that.’ ‘I can’t help it I never saw anyone faint, and I don’t choose to make myself all black and blue, tumbling flat as you If I can go down easily, I’ll drop If I can’t, I shall fall into a chair and be graceful I don’t care if Hugo does come at me with a pistol,’ returned Amy, who was not gifted with dramatic power, but was chosen because she was small enough to be borne out shrieking by the villain of the piece ‘Do it this way Clasp your hands so, and stagger across the room, crying frantically, ‘Roderigo Save me! Save me!’ and away went Jo, with a melodramatic scream which was truly thrilling Amy followed, but she poked her hands out stiffly before her, and jerked herself along as if she went by machinery, and her ‘Ow!’ was more suggestive of pins being run into her than of fear and anguish Jo gave a despairing groan, and Meg laughed outright, while Beth let her bread burn as she watched the fun with interest ‘It’s no use! Do the best you can when the time comes, and if the audience laughs, don’t blame me Come on, Meg.’ ‘Then things went smoothly, for Don Pedro defied the world in a speech of two pages without a single break Hagar, the witch, chanted an awful incantation over her kettleful of simmering toads, with weird effect Roderigo rent his chains asunder manfully, and Hugo died in agonies of remorse and arsenic, with a wild, ‘Ha! Ha!’ ‘It’s the best we’ve had yet,’ said Meg, as the dead villain sat up and rubbed his elbows ‘I don’t see how you can write and act such splendid things, Jo You’re a regular Shakespeare!’ exclaimed Beth, who firmly believed that her sisters were gifted with wonderful genius in all things ‘Not quite,’ replied Jo modestly ‘I think THE WITCHES CURSE, an Operatic Tragedy is rather a nice thing, but I’d like to try McBETH, if we only had a trapdoor for Banquo I always wanted to the killing part ‘Is that a dagger that I see before me?’ muttered Jo, rolling her eyes and clutching at the air, as she had seen a famous tragedian ‘No, it’s the toasting fork, with Mother’s shoe on it instead of the bread Beth’s stage-struck!’ cried Meg, and the rehearsal ended in a general burst of laughter ‘Glad to find you so merry, my girls,’ said a cheery voice at the door, and actors and audience turned to welcome a tall, motherly lady with a ‘can I help you’ look about her which was truly delightful She was not elegantly dressed, but a noble-looking woman, and the girls thought the gray cloak and unfashionable bonnet covered the most splendid mother in the world ‘Well, dearies, how have you got on today? There was so much to do, getting the boxes ready to go tomorrow, that I didn’t come home to dinner Has anyone called, Beth? How is your cold, Meg? Jo, you look tired to death Come and kiss me, baby.’ While making these maternal inquiries Mrs March got her wet things off, her warm slippers on, and sitting down in the easy chair, drew Amy to her lap, preparing to enjoy the happiest hour of her busy day The girls flew about, trying to make things comfortable, each in her own way Meg arranged the tea table, Jo brought wood and set chairs, dropping, overturning, and clattering everything she touched Beth trotted to and fro between parlor kitchen, quiet and busy, while Amy gave directions to everyone, as she sat with her hands folded As they gathered about the table, Mrs March said, with a particularly happy face, ‘I’ve got a treat for you after supper.’ A quick, bright smile went round like a streak of sunshine Beth clapped her hands, regardless of the biscuit she held, and Jo tossed up her napkin, crying, ‘A letter! A letter! Three cheers for Father!’ ‘Yes, a nice long letter He is well, and thinks he shall get through the cold season better than we feared He sends all sorts of loving wishes for Christmas, and an especial message to you girls,’ said Mrs March, patting her pocket as if she had got a treasure there ‘Hurry and get done! Don’t stop to quirk your little finger and simper over your plate, Amy,’ cried Jo, choking on her tea and dropping her bread, butter side down, on the carpet in her haste to get at the treat Beth ate no more, but crept away to sit in her shadowy corner and brood over the delight to come, till the others were ready ‘I think it was so splendid in Father to go as chaplain when he was too old to be drafted, and not strong enough for a soldier,’ said Meg warmly ‘Don’t I wish I could go as a drummer, a vivan—what’s its name? Or a nurse, so I could be near him and help him,’ exclaimed Jo, with a groan ‘It must be very disagreeable to sleep in a tent, and eat all sorts of badtasting things, and drink out of a tin mug,’ sighed Amy ‘When will he come home, Marmee? asked Beth, with a little quiver in her voice ‘Not for many months, dear, unless he is sick He will stay and his work faithfully as long as he can, and we won’t ask for him back a minute sooner than he can be spared Now come and hear the letter.’ They all drew to the fire, Mother in the big chair with Beth at her feet, Meg and Amy perched on either arm of the chair, and Jo leaning on the back, where no one would see any sign of emotion if the letter should happen to be touching Very few letters were written in those hard times that were not touching, especially those which fathers sent home In this one little was said of the hardships endured, the dangers faced, or the homesickness conquered It was a cheerful, hopeful letter, full of lively descriptions of camp life, marches, and military news, and only at the end did the writer’s heart over-flow with fatherly love and longing for the little girls at home ‘Give them all of my dear love and a kiss Tell them I think of them by day, pray for them by night, and find my best comfort in their affection at all times A year seems very long to wait before I see them, but remind them that while we wait we may all work, so that these hard days need not be wasted I know they will remember all I said to them, that they will be loving children to you, will their duty faithfully, fight their bosom enemies bravely, and conquer themselves so beautifully that when I come back to them I may be fonder and prouder than ever of my little women.’ Everybody sniffed when they came to that part Jo wasn’t ashamed of the great tear that dropped off the end of her nose, and Amy never minded the rumpling of her curls as she hid her face on her mother’s shoulder and sobbed out, ‘I am a selfish girl! But I’ll truly try to be better, so he mayn’t be disappointed in me by-and-by.’ We all will,’ cried Meg ‘I think too much of my looks and hate to work, but won’t any more, if I can help it.’ ‘I’ll try and be what he loves to call me, ‘a little woman’ and not be rough and wild, but my duty here instead of wanting to be somewhere else,’ said Jo, thinking that keeping her temper at home was a much harder task than facing a rebel or two down South heart’s dearest, it means so much to me,’ pleaded Mr Bhaer, more like a romantic student than a grave professor ‘Well, then, why didn’t thou tell me all this sooner?’ asked Jo bashfully ‘Now I shall haf to show thee all my heart, and I so gladly will, because thou must take care of it hereafter See, then, my Jo—ah, the dear, funny little name—I had a wish to tell something the day I said goodbye in New York, but I thought the handsome friend was betrothed to thee, and so I spoke not Wouldst thou have said ‘Yes’, then, if I had spoken?’ ‘I don’t know I’m afraid not, for I didn’t have any heart just then.’ ‘Prut! That I not believe It was asleep till the fairy prince came through the wood, and waked it up Ah, well, ‘Die erste Liebe ist die beste’, but that I should not expect.’ ‘Yes, the first love is the best, but be so contented, for I never had another Teddy was only a boy, and soon got over his little fancy,’ said Jo, anxious to correct the Professor’s mistake ‘Good! Then I shall rest happy, and be sure that thou givest me all I haf waited so long, I am grown selfish, as thou wilt find , Professorin.’ ‘I like that,’ cried Jo, delighted with her new name ‘Now tell me what brought you, at last, just when I wanted you?’ ‘This.’ And Mr Bhaer took a little worn paper out of his waistcoat pocket Jo unfolded it, and looked much abashed, for it was one of her own contributions to a paper that paid for poetry, which accounted for her sending it an occasional attempt ‘How could that bring you?’ she asked, wondering what he meant ‘I found it by chance I knew it by the names and the initials, and in it there was one little verse that seemed to call me Read and find him I will see that you go not in the wet.’ IN THE GARRET Four little chests all in a row, Dim with dust, and worn by time, All fashioned and filled, long ago, By children now in their prime Four little keys side by side, With faded ribbons, brave and gay When fastened there, with childish pride, Long ago, on a rainy day Four little names, one on each lid, Carved out by a boyish hand, And underneath there lieth hid Histories of the happpy band Once playing here, and pausing oft To hear the sweet refrain, That came and went on the roof aloft, In the falling summer rain ‘Meg’ on the first lid, smooth and fair I look in with loving eyes, For folded here, with well-known care, A goodly gathering lies, The record of a peaceful life— Gifts to gentle child and girl, A bridal gown, lines to a wife, A tiny shoe, a baby curl No toys in this first chest remain, For all are carried away, In their old age, to join again In another small Meg’s play Ah, happy mother! Well I know You hear, like a sweet refrain, Lullabies ever soft and low In the falling summer rain ‘Jo’ on the next lid, scratched and worn, And within a motley store Of headless, dolls, of schoolbooks torn, Birds and beasts that speak no more, Spoils brought home from the fairy ground Only trod by youthful feet, Dreams of a future never found, Memories of a past still sweet, Half-writ poems, stories wild, April letters, warm and cold, Diaries of a wilful child, Hints of a woman early old, A woman in a lonely home, Hearing, like a sad refrain— ‘Be worthy, love, and love will come,’ In the falling summer rain My Beth! the dust is always swept From the lid that bears your name, As if by loving eyes that wept, By careful hands that often came Death cannonized for us one saint, Ever less human than divine, And still we lay, with tender plaint, Relics in this household shrine— The silver bell, so seldom rung, The little cap which last she wore, The fair, dead Catherine that By angels borne above her door The songs she sang, without lament, In her prison-house of pain, Forever are they sweetly blent With the falling summer rain Upon the last lid’s polished field— Legend now both fair and true A gallant knight bears on his shield, ‘Amy’ in letters gold and blue Within lie snoods that bound her hair, Slippers that have danced their last, Faded flowers laid by with care, Fans whose airy toils are past, Gay valentines, all ardent flames, Trifles that have borne their part In girlish hopes and fears and shames, The record of a maiden heart Now learning fairer, truer spells, Hearing, like a blithe refrain, The silver sound of bridal bells In the falling summer rain Four little chests all in a row, Dim with dust, and worn by time, Four women, taught by weal and woe To love and labor in their prime Four sisters, parted for an hour, None lost, one only gone before, Made by love’s immortal power, Nearest and dearest evermore Oh, when these hidden stores of ours Lie open to the Father’s sight, May they be rich in golden hours, Deeds that show fairer for the light, Lives whose brave music long shall ring, Like a spirit-stirring strain, Souls that shall gladly soar and sing In the long sunshine after rain ‘It’s very bad poetry, but I felt it when I wrote it, one day when I was very lonely, and had a good cry on a rag bag I never thought it would go where it could tell tales,’ said Jo, tearing up the verses the Professor had treasured so long ‘Let it go, it has done it’s duty, and I will haf a fresh one when I read all the brown book in which she keeps her little secrets,’ said Mr Bhaer with a smile as he watched the fragments fly away on the wind ‘Yes,’ he added earnestly, ‘I read that, and I think to myself, She has a sorrow, she is lonely, she would find comfort in true love I haf a heart full, full for her Shall I not go and say, ‘If this is not too poor a thing to gif for what I shall hope to receive, take it in Gott’s name?’ ‘And so you came to find that it was not too poor, but the one precious thing I needed,’ whispered Jo ‘I had no courage to think that at first, heavenly kind as was your welcome to me But soon I began to hope, and then I said, ‘I will haf her if I die for it,’ and so I will!’ cried Mr Bhaer, with a defiant nod, as if the walls of mist closing round them were barriers which he was to surmount or valiantly knock down Jo thought that was splendid, and resolved to be worthy of her knight, though he did not come prancing on a charger in gorgeous array ‘What made you stay away so long?’ she asked presently, finding it so pleasant to ask confidential questions and get delightful answers that she could not keep silent ‘It was not easy, but I could not find the heart to take you from that so happy home until I could haf a prospect of one to gif you, after much time, perhaps, and hard work How could I ask you to gif up so much for a poor old fellow, who has no fortune but a little learning?’ ‘I’m glad you are poor I couldn’t bear a rich husband,’ said Jo decidedly, adding in a softer tone, ‘Don’t fear poverty I’ve known it long enough to lose my dread and be happy working for those I love, and don’t call yourself old—forty is the prime of life I couldn’t help loving you if you were seventy!’ The Professor found that so touching that he would have been glad of his handkerchief, if he could have got at it As her couldn’t, Jo wiped his eyes for him, and said, laughing, as she took away a bundle or two ‘I may be strong-minded, but no one can say I’m out of my sphere now, for woman’s special mission is supposed to be drying tears and bearing burdens I’m to carry my share, Friedrich, and help to earn the home Make up your mind to that, or I’ll never go,’ she added resolutely, as he tried to reclaim his load ‘We shall see Haf you patience to wait a long time, Jo? I must go away and my work alone I must help my boys first, because, even for you, I may not break my word to Minna Can you forgif that, and be happy while we hope and wait?’ ‘Yes, I know I can, for we love one another, and that makes all the rest easy to bear I have my duty, also, and my work I couldn’t enjoy myself if I neglected them even for you, so there’s no need of hurry or impatience You can your part out West, I can mine here, and both be happy hoping for the best, and leaving the future to be as God wills.’ ‘Ah! Thou gifest me such hope and courage, and I haf nothing to gif back but a full heart and these empty hands,’ cried the Professor, quite overcome Jo never, never would learn to be proper, for when he said that as they stood upon the steps, she just put both hands into his, whispering tenderly, ‘Not empty now,’ and stooping down, kissed her Friedrich under the umbrella It was dreadful, but she would have done it if the flock of draggle-tailed sparrows on the hedge had been human beings, for she was very far gone indeed, and quite regardless of everything but her own happiness Though it came in such a very simple guise, that was the crowning moment of both their lives, when, turning from the night and storm and loneliness to the household light and warmth and peace waiting to receive them, with a glad ‘Welcome home!’ Jo led her lover in, and shut the door CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN For a year Jo and her Professor worked and waited, hoped and loved, met occasionally, and wrote such voluminous letters that the rise in the price of paper was accounted for, Laurie said The second year began rather soberly, for their prospects did not brighten, and Aunt March died suddenly But when their first sorrow was over—for they loved the old lady in spite of her sharp tongue—they found they had cause for rejoicing, for she had left Plumfield to Jo, which made all sorts of joyful things possible ‘It’s a fine old place, and will bring a handsome sum, for of course you intend to sell it,’ said Laurie, as they were all talking the matter over some weeks later ‘No, I don’t,’ was Jo’s decided answer, as she petted the fat poodle, whom she had adopted, out of respect to his former mistress ‘You don’t mean to live there?’ ‘Yes, I do.’ ‘But, my dear girl, it’s an immense house, and will take a power of money to keep it in order The garden and orchard alone need two or three men, and farming isn’t in Bhaer’s line, I take it.’ ‘He’ll try his hand at it there, if I propose it.’ ‘And you expect to live on the produce of the place? Well, that sounds paradisiacal, but you’ll find it desperate hard work.’ ‘The crop we are going to raise is a profitable one,’ And Jo laughed ‘Of what is this fine crop to consist, ma’am?’ ‘Boys I want to open a school for little lads—a good, happy, homelike school, with me to take care of them and Fritz to teach them.’ ‘That’s a truly Joian plan for you! Isn’t that just like her?’ cried Laurie, appealing to the family, who looked as much surprised as he ‘I like it,’ said Mrs March decidedly ‘So I,’ added her husband, who welcomed the thought of a chance for trying the Socratic method of education on modern youth ‘It will be an immense care for Jo,’ said Meg, stroking the head or her one all-absorbing son ‘Jo can it, and be happy in it It’s a splendid idea Tell us all about it,’ cried Mr Laurence, who had been longing to lend the lovers a hand, but knew that they would refuse his help ‘I knew you’d stand by me, sir Amy does too—I see it in her eyes, though she prudently waits to turn it over in her mind before she speaks Now, my dear people,’ continued Jo earnestly, ‘just understand that this isn’t a new idea of mine, but a long cherished plan Before my Fritz came, I used to think how, when I’d made my fortune, and no one needed me at home, I’d hire a big house, and pick up some poor, forlorn little lads who hadn’t any mothers, and take care of them, and make life jolly for them before it was too late I see so many going to ruin for want of help at the right minute, I love so to anything for them, I seem to feel their wants, and sympathize with their troubles, and oh, I should so like to be a mother to them!’ Mrs March held out her hand to Jo, who took it, smiling, with tears in her eyes, and went on in the old enthusiastic way, which they had not seen for a long while ‘I told my plan to Fritz once, and he said it was just what he would like, and agreed to try it when we got rich Bless his dear heart, he’s been doing it all his life—helping poor boys, I mean, not getting rich, that he’ll never be Money doesn’t stay in his pocket long enough to lay up any But now, thanks to my good old aunt, who loved me better than I ever deserved, I’m rich, at least I feel so, and we can live at Plumfield perfectly well, if we have a flourishing school It’s just the place for boys, the house is big, and the furniture strong and plain There’s plenty of room for dozens inside, and splendid grounds outside They could help in the garden and orchard Such work is healthy, isn’t it, sir? Then Fritz could train and teach in his own way, and Father will help him I can feed and nurse and pet and scold them, and Mother will be my stand-by I’ve always longed for lots of boys, and never had enough, now I can fill the house full and revel in the little dears to my heart’s content Think what luxury— Plumfield my own, and a wilderness of boys to enjoy it with me.’ As Jo waved her hands and gave a sigh of rapture, the family went off into a gale of merriment, and Mr Laurence laughed till they thought he’d have an apoplectic fit ‘I don’t see anything funny,’ she said gravely, when she could be heard ‘Nothing could be more natural and proper than for my Professor to open a school, and for me to prefer to reside in my own estate.’ ‘She is putting on airs already,’ said Laurie, who regarded the idea in the light of a capital joke ‘But may I inquire how you intend to support the establishment? If all the pupils are little ragamuffins, I’m afraid your crop won’t be profitable in a worldly sense, Mr Bhaer.’ ‘Now don’t be a wet-blanket, Teddy Of course I shall have rich pupils, also—perhaps begin with such altogether Then, when I’ve got a start, I can take in a ragamuffin or two, just for a relish Rich people’s children often need care and comfort, as well as poor I’ve seen unfortunate little creatures left to servants, or backward ones pushed forward, when it’s real cruelty Some are naughty through mismanagment or neglect, and some lose their mothers Besides, the best have to get through the hobbledehoy age, and that’s the very time they need most patience and kindness People laugh at them, and hustle them about, try to keep them out of sight, and expect them to turn all at once from pretty children into fine young men They don’t complain much— plucky little souls—but they feel it I’ve been through some- thing of it, and I know all about it I’ve a special interest in such young bears, and like to show them that I see the warm, honest, wellmeaning boys’ hearts, in spite of the clumsy arms and legs and the topsyturvy heads I’ve had experience, too, for haven’t I brought up one boy to be a pride and honor to his family?’ ‘I’ll testify that you tried to it,’ said Laurie with a grateful look ‘And I’ve succeeded beyond my hopes, for here you are, a steady, sensible businessman, doing heaps of good with your money, and laying up the blessings of the poor, instead of dollars But you are not merely a businessman, you love good and beautiful things, enjoy them yourself, and let others go halves, as you always did in the old times I am proud of you, Teddy, for you get better every year, and everyone feels it, though you won’t let them say so Yes, and when I have my flock, I’ll just point to you, and say ‘There’s your model, my lads’.’ Poor Laurie didn’t know where to look, for, man though he was, something of the old bashfulness came over him as this burst of praise made all faces turn approvingly upon him ‘I say, Jo, that’s rather too much,’ he began, just in his old boyish way ‘You have all done more for me than I can ever thank you for, except by doing my best not to disapoint you You have rather cast me off lately, Jo, but I’ve had the best of help, nevertheless So, if I’ve got on at all, you may thank these two for it.’ And he laid one hand gently on his grandfather’s head, and the other on Amy’s golden one, for the three were never far apart ‘I think that families are the most beautiful things in all the world!’ burst out Jo, who was in an unusually up-lifted frame of mind just then ‘When I have one of my own, I hope it will be as happy as the three I know and love the best If John and my Fritz were only here, it would be quite a little heaven on earth,’ she added more quietly And that night when she went to her room after a blissful evening of family counsels, hopes, and plans, her heart was so full of happiness that she could only calm it by kneeling beside the empty bed always near her own, and thinking tender thoughts of Beth It was a very astonishing year altogether, for things seemed to happen in an unusually rapid and delightful manner Almost before she knew where she was, Jo found herself married and settled at Plumfield Then a family of six or seven boys sprung up like mushrooms, and flourished surprisingly, poor boys as well as rich, for Mr Laurence was continually finding some touching case of destitution, and begging the Bhaers to take pity on the child, and he would gladly pay a trifle for its support In this way, the sly old gentleman got round proud Jo, and furnished her with the style of boy in which she most delighted Of course it was uphill work at first, and Jo made queer mistakes, but the wise Professor steered her safely into calmer waters, and the most rampant ragamuffin was conquered in the end How Jo did enjoy her ‘wilderness of boys’, and how poor, dear Aunt March would have lamented had she been there to see the sacred precincts of prim, well-ordered Plumfield overrun with Toms, Dicks, and Harrys! There was a sort of poetic justice about it, after all, for the old lady had been the terror of the boys for miles around, and now the exiles feasted freely on forbidden plums, kicked up the gravel with profane boots unreproved, and played cricket in the big field where the irritable ‘cow with a crumpled horn’ used to invite rash youths to come and be tossed It became a sort of boys’ paradise, and Laurie suggested that it should be called the ‘Bhaer-garten’, as a compliment to its master and appropriate to its inhabitants It never was a fashionable school, and the Professor did not lay up a fortune, but it was just what Jo intended it to be— ‘a happy, homelike place for boys, who needed teaching, care, and kindness’ Every room in the big house was soon full Every little plot in the garden soon had its owner A regular menagerie appeared in barn and shed, for pet animals were allowed And three times a day, Jo smiled at her Fritz from the head of a long table lined on either side with rows of happy young faces, which all turned to her with affectionate eyes, confiding words, and grateful hearts, full of love for ‘Mother Bhaer’ She had boys enough now, and did not tire of them, though they were not angels, by any means, and some of them caused both Professor and Professorin much trouble and anxiety But her faith in the good spot which exists in the heart of the naughtiest, sauciest, most tantalizing little ragamuffin gave her patience, skill, and in time success, for no mortal boy could hold out long with Father Bhaer shining on him as benevolently as the sun, and Mother Bhaer forgiving him seventy times seven Very precious to Jo was the friendship of the lads, their penitent sniffs and whispers after wrongdoing, their droll or touching little confidences, their pleasant enthusiasms, hopes, and plans, even their misfortunes, for they only endeared them to her all the more There were slow boys and bashful boys, feeble boys and riotous boys, boys that lisped and boys that stuttered, one or two lame ones, and a merry little quadroon, who could not be taken in elsewhere, but who was welcome to the ‘Bhaergarten’, though some people predicted that his admission would ruin the school Yes, Jo was a very happy woman there, in spite of hard work, much anxiety, and a perpetual racket She enjoyed it heartily and found the applause of her boys more satisfying than any praise of the world, for now she told no stories except to her flock of enthusiastic believers and admirers As the years went on, two little lads of her own came to increase her happiness—Rob, named for Grandpa, and Teddy, a happy-go-lucky baby, who seemed to have inherited his papa’s sunshiny temper as well as his mother’s lively spirit How they ever grew up alive in that whirlpool of boys was a mystery to their grandma and aunts, but they flourished like dandelions in spring, and their rough nurses loved and served them well There were a great many holidays at Plumfield, and one of the most delightful was the yearly apple-picking For then the Marches, Laurences, Brookes And Bhaers turned out in full force and made a day of it Five years after Jo’s wedding, one of these fruitful festivals occurred, a mellow October day, when the air was full of an exhilarating freshness which made the spirits rise and the blood dance healthily in the veins The old orchard wore its holiday attire Goldenrod and asters fringed the mossy walls Grasshoppers skipped briskly in the sere grass, and crickets chirped like fairy pipers at a feast Squirrels were busy with their small harvesting Birds twittered their adieux from the alders in the lane, and every tree stood ready to send down its shower of red or yellow apples at the first shake Everybody was there Everybody laughed and sang, climbed up and tumbled down Everybody declared that there never had been such a perfect day or such a jolly set to enjoy it, and everyone gave themselves up to the simple pleasures of the hour as freely as if there were no such things as care or sorrow in the world Mr March strolled placidly about, quoting Tusser, Cowley, and Columella to Mr Laurence, while enjoying The gentle apple’s winey juice The Professor charged up and down the green aisles like a stout Teutonic knight, with a pole for a lance, leading on the boys, who made a hook and ladder company of themselves, and performed wonders in the way of ground and lofty tumbling Laurie devoted himself to the little ones, rode his small daughter in a bushel-basket, took Daisy up among the bird’s nests, and kept adventurous Rob from breaking his neck Mrs March and Meg sat among the apple piles like a pair of Pomonas, sorting the contributions that kept pouring in, while Amy with a beautiful motherly expression in her face sketched the various groups, and watched over one pale lad, who sat adoring her with his little crutch beside him Jo was in her element that day, and rushed about, with her gown pinned up, and her hat anywhere but on her head, and her baby tucked under her arm, ready for any lively adventure which might turn up Little Teddy bore a charmed life, for nothing ever happened to him, and Jo never felt any anxiety when he was whisked up into a tree by one lad, galloped off on the back of another, or supplied with sour russets by his indulgent papa, who labored under the Germanic delusion that babies could digest anything, from pickled cabbage to buttons, nails, and their own small shoes She knew that little Ted would turn up again in time, safe and rosy, dirty and serene, and she always received him back with a hearty welcome, for Jo loved her babies tenderly At four o’clock a lull took place, and baskets remained empty, while the apple pickers rested and compared rents and bruises Then Jo and Meg, with a detachment of the bigger boys, set forth the supper on the grass, for an out-of-door tea was always the crowning joy of the day The land literally flowed with milk and honey on such occasions, for the lads were not required to sit at table, but allowed to partake of refreshment as they liked—freedom being the sauce best beloved by the boyish soul They availed themselves of the rare privilege to the fullest extent, for some tried the pleasing experiment of drinking mild while standing on their heads, others lent a charm to leapfrog by eating pie in the pauses of the game, cookies were sown broadcast over the field, and apple turnovers roosted in the trees like a new style of bird The little girls had a private tea party, and Ted roved among the edibles at his own sweet will When no one could eat any more, the Professor proposed the first regular toast, which was always drunk at such times—‘Aunt March, God bless her!’ A toast heartily given by the good man, who never forgot how much he owed her, and quietly drunk by the boys, who had been taught to keep her memory green ‘Now, Grandma’s sixtieth birthday! Long life to her, with three times three!’ That was given with a will, as you may well believe, and the cheering once begun, it was hard to stop it Everybody’s health was proposed, form Mr Laurence, who was considered their special patron, to the astonished guinea pig, who had strayed from its proper sphere in search of its young master Demi, as the oldest grandchild, then presented the queen of the day with various gifts, so numerous that they were transported to the festive scene in a wheelbarrow Funny presents, some of them, but what would have been defects to other eyes were ornaments to Grandma’s—for the children’s gifts were all their own Every stitch Daisy’s patient little fingers had put into the handkerchiefs she hemmed was better than embroidery to Mrs March Demi’s miracle of mechanical skill, though the cover wouldn’t shut, Rob’s footstool had a wiggle in its uneven legs that she declared was soothing, and no page of the costly book Amy’s child gave her was so fair as that on which appeared in tipsy capitals, the words— ‘To dear Grandma, from her little Beth.’ During the ceremony the boys had mysteriously disappeared, and when Mrs March had tried to thank her children, and broken down, while Teddy wiped her eyes on his pinafore, the Professor suddenly began to sing Then, from above him, voice after voice took up the words, and from tree to tree echoed the music of the unseen choir, as the boys sang with all their hearts the little song that Jo had written, Laurie set to music, and the Professor trained his lads to give with the best effect This was something altogether new, and it proved a grand success, for Mrs March couldn’t get over her surprise, and insisted on shaking hands with every one of the featherless birds, from tall Franz and Emil to the little quadroon, who had the sweetest voice of all After this, the boys dispersed for a final lark, leaving Mrs March and her daughters under the festival tree ‘I don’t think I ever ought to call myself ‘unlucky Jo’ again, when my greatest wish has been so beautifully gratified,’ said Mrs Bhaer, taking Teddy’s little fist out of the milk pitcher, in which he was rapturously churning ‘And yet your life is very different from the one you pictured so long ago Do you remember our castles in the air?’ asked Amy, smiling as she watched Laurie and John playing cricket with the boys ‘Dear fellows! It does my heart good to see them forget business and frolic for a day,’ answered Jo, who now spoke in a maternal way of all mankind ‘Yes, I remember, but the life I wanted then seems selfish, lonely, and cold to me now I haven’t given up the hope that I may write a good book yet, but I can wait, and I’m sure it will be all the better for such experiences and illustrations as these.’ And Jo pointed from the lively lads in the distance to her father, leaning on the Professor’s arm, as they walked to and fro in the sunshine, deep in one of the conversations which both enjoyed so much, and then to her mother, sitting enthroned among her daughters, with their children in her lap and at her feet, as if all found help and happiness in the face which never could grow old to them ‘My castle was the most nearly realized of all I asked for splendid things, to be sure, but in my heart I knew I should be satisfied, if I had a little home, and John, and some dear children like these I’ve got them all, thank God, and am the happiest woman in the world.’ And Meg laid her hand on her tall boy’s head, with a face full of tender and devout content ‘My castle is very different from what I planned, but I would not alter it, though, like Jo, I don’t relinquish all my artistic hopes, or confine myself to helping others fulfill their dreams of beauty I’ve begun to model a figure of baby, and Laurie says it is the best thing I’ve ever done I think so, myself, and mean to it in marble, so that, whatever happens, I may at least keep the image of my little angel.’ As Amy spoke, a great tear dropped on the golden hair of the sleeping child in her arms, for her one well-beloved daughter was a frail little creature and the dread of losing her was the shadow over Amy’s sunshine This cross was doing much for both father and mother, for one love and sorrow bound them closely together Amy’s nature was growing sweeter, deeper, and more tender Laurie was growing more serious, strong, and firm, and both were learning that beauty, youth, good fortune, even love itself, cannot keep care and pain, loss and sorrow, from the most blessed for Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and sad and dreary ‘She is growing better, I am sure of it, my dear Don’t despond, but hope and keep happy,’ said Mrs March, as tenderhearted Daisy stooped from her knee to lay her rosy cheek against her little cousin’s pale one ‘I never ought to, while I have you to cheer me up, Marmee, and Laurie to take more than half of every burden,’ replied Amy warmly ‘He never lets me see his anxiety, but is so sweet and patient with me, so devoted to Beth, and such a stay and comfort to me always that I can’t love him enough So, in spite of my one cross, I can say with Meg, ‘Thank God, I’m a happy woman.’’ ‘There’s no need for me to say it, for everyone can see that I’m far happier than I deserve,’ added Jo, glancing from her good husband to her chubby children, tumbling on the grass beside her ‘Fritz is getting gray and stout I’m growing as thin as a shadow, and am thirty We never shall be rich, and Plumfield may burn up any night, for that incorrigible Tommy Bangs will smoke sweet-fern cigars under the bed-clothes, though he’s set himself afire three times already But in spite of these unromantic facts, I have nothing to complain of, and never was so jolly in my life Excuse the remark, but living among boys, I can’t help using their expressions now and then.’ ‘Yes, Jo, I think your harvest will be a good one,’ began Mrs March, frightening away a big black cricket that was staring Teddy out of countenance ‘Not half so good as yours, Mother Here it is, and we never can thank you enough for the patient sowing and reaping you have done,’ cried Jo, with the loving impetuosity which she never would outgrow ‘I hope there will be more wheat and fewer tares every year,’ said Amy softly ‘A large sheaf, but I know there’s room in your heart for it, Marmee dear,’ added Meg’s tender voice Touched to the heart, Mrs March could only stretch out her arms, as if to gather children and grandchildren to herself, and say, with face and voice full of motherly love, gratitude, and humility ‘Oh, my girls, however long you may live, I never can wish you a greater happiness than this!’ Prepared and Published by: Ebd E-BooksDirectory.com [...]... in doing the duty that lay nearest her, while she resolved in her quiet little soul to be all that Father hoped to find her when the year brought round the happy coming home Mrs March broke the silence that followed Jo’s words, by saying in her cheery voice, ‘Do you remember how you used to play Pilgrims Progress when you were little things? Nothing delighted you more than to have me tie my piece bags... Christian What shall we do about that?’ asked Jo, delighted with the fancy which lent a little romance to the very dull task of doing her duty ‘Look under your pillows christmas morning, and you will find your guidebook,’ replied Mrs March They talked over the new plan while old Hannah cleared the table, then out came the four little work baskets, and the needles flew as the girls made sheets for Aunt March... as they stitched their way through them At nine they stopped work, and sang, as usual, before they went to bed No one but Beth could get much music out of the old piano, but she had a way of softly touching the yellow keys and making a pleasant accompaniment to the simple songs they sang Meg had a voice like a flute, and she and herr mother led the little choir Amy chirped like a cricket, and Jo wandered... Christmas morning No stockings hung at the fireplace, and for a moment she felt as much disappointed as she did long ago, when her little sock fell down because it was crammed so full of goodies Then she remembered her mother’s promise and, slipping her hand under her pillow, drew out a little crimsoncovered book She knew it very well, for it was that beautiful old story of the best life ever lived, and Jo... tumbled head beside her to the two little night-capped ones in the room beyond, ‘Mother wants us to read and love and mind these books, and we must begin at once We used to be faithful about it, but since Father went away and all this war trouble unsettled us, we have neglected many things You can do as you please, but I shall keep my book on the table here and read a little every morning as soon as I... me, Jo! I didn’t mean anyone should know till the time came I only meant to change the little bottle for a big one, and I gave all my money to get it, and I’m truly trying not to be selfish any more.’ As she spoke, Amy showed the handsome flask which replaced the cheap one, and looked so earnest and humble in her little effort to forget herself that Meg hugged her on the spot, and Jo pronounced her... Many of them! Thank you for our books We read some, and mean to every day,’ they all cried in chorus ‘Merry Christmas, little daughters! I’m glad you began at once, and hope you will keep on But I want to say one word before we sit down Not far away from here lies a poor woman with a little newborn baby Six children are huddled into one bed to keep from freezing, for they have no fire There is nothing... few minutes it really did seem as if kind spirits had been at work there Hannah, who had carried wood, made a fire, and stopped up the broken panes with old hats and her own cloak Mrs March gave the mother tea and gruel, and comforted her with promises of help, while she dressed the little baby as tenderly as if it had been her own The girls meantime spread the table, set the children round the fire,... than the hungry little girls who gave away their breakfasts and contented themselves with bread and milk on Christmas morning ‘That’s loving our neighbor better than ourselves, and I like it,’ said Meg, as they set out their presents while their mother was upstairs collecting clothes for the poor Hummels Not a very splendid show, but there was a great deal of love done up in the few little bundles,... dungeons of the castle A stout little retainer came in with chains and led them away, looking very much frightened and evidently forgetting the speech he ought to have made Act third was the castle hall, and here Hagar appeared, having come to free the lovers and finish Hugo She hears him coming and hides, sees him put the potions into two cups of wine and bid the the timid little servant, ‘Bear them to