tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65690642082258127862024-03-14T11:47:24.534+05:30Poem Born From Heart !!!!Thanks For Visiting this Blog!!!!!!!
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This blog makes ur soul peaceful and happy.Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.comBlogger4643125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-12002665555349491822022-08-02T11:11:00.008+05:302022-08-02T11:11:53.656+05:30PART TWO: CHAPTER THIRTY - Consequences - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">London</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Dearest People, Here I really sit at a front window of the Bath Hotel, Piccadilly. It's not a fashionable place, but Uncle stopped here years ago, and won't go anywhere else. However, we don't mean to stay long, so it's no great matter. Oh, I can't begin to tell you how I enjoy it all! I never can, so I'll only give you bits out of my notebook, for I've done nothing but sketch and scribble since I started.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I sent a line from Halifax, when I felt pretty miserable, but after that I got on delightfully, seldom ill, on deck all day, with plenty of pleasant people to amuse me. Everyone was very kind to me, especially the officers. Don't laugh, Jo, gentlemen really are very necessary aboard ship, to hold on to, or to wait upon one, and as they have nothing to do, it's a mercy to make them useful, otherwise they would smoke themselves to death, I'm afraid.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Aunt and Flo were poorly all the way, and liked to be let alone, so when I had done what I could for them, I went and enjoyed myself. Such walks on deck, such sunsets, such splendid air and waves! It was almost as exciting as riding a fast horse, when we went rushing on so grandly. I wish Beth could have come, it would have done her so much good. As for Jo, she would have gone up and sat on the maintop jib, or whatever the high thing is called, made friends with the engineers, and tooted on the captain's speaking trumpet, she'd have been in such a state of rapture.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It was all heavenly, but I was glad to see the Irish coast, and found it very lovely, so green and sunny, with brown cabins here and there, ruins on some of the hills, and gentlemen's countryseats in the valleys, with deer feeding in the parks. It was early in the morning, but I didn't regret getting up to see it, for the bay was full of little boats, the shore so picturesque, and a rosy sky overhead. I never shall forget it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">At Queenstown on of my new acquaintances left us, Mr. Lennox, and when I said something about the Lakes of Killarney, he sighed and and, with a look at me...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, have you e'er heard of Kate Kearney? She lives on the banks of Killarney; From the glance of her eye, Shun danger and fly, For fatal's the glance of Kate Kearney."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Wasn't that nonsensical?</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">We only stopped at Liverpool a few hours. It's a dirty, noisy place, and I was glad to leave it. Uncle rushed out and bought a pair of dogskin gloves, some ugly, thick shoes, and an umbrella, and got shaved `a la mutton chop, the first thing. Then he flattered himself that he looked like a true Briton, but the first time he had the mud cleaned off his shoes, the little bootblack knew that an American stood in them, and said, with a grin, "There yer har, sir. I've given `em the latest Yankee shine." It amused Uncle immensely. Oh, I must tell you what that absurd Lennox did! He got his friend Ward, who came on with us, to order a bouquet for me, and the first thing I saw in my room was a lovely one, with "Robert Lennox's compliments," on the card. Wasn't that fun, girls? I like traveling.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I never shall get to London if I don't hurry. The trip was like riding through a long picture gallery, full of lovely landscapes. The farmhouses were my delight, with thatched roofs, ivy up to the eaves, latticed windows, and stout women with rosy children at the doors. The very cattle looked more tranquil than ours, as they stood knee-deep in clover, and the hens had a contented cluck, as if they never got nervous like Yankee biddies. Such perfect color I never saw, the grass so green, sky so blue, grain so yellow, woods so dark, I was in a rapture all the way. So was Flo, and we kept bouncing from one side to the other, trying to see everything while we were whisking along at the rate of sixty miles an hour. Aunt was tired and went to sleep, but Uncle read his guidebook, and wouldn't be astonished at anything. This is the way we went on. Amy, flying up--"Oh, that must be Kenilworth, that gray place among the trees!" Flo, darting to my window--"How sweet! We must go there sometime, won't we Papa?" Uncle, calmly admiring his boots--"No, my dear, not unless you want beer, that's a brewery."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A pause--then Flo cried out, "Bless me, there's a gallows and a man going up." "Where, where?" shrieks Amy, staring out at two tall posts with a crossbeam and some dangling chains. "A colliery," remarks Uncle, with a twinkle of the eye. "Here's a lovely flock of lambs all lying down," says Amy. "See, Papa, aren't they pretty?" added Flo sentimentally. "Geese, young ladies," returns Uncle, in a tone that keeps us quiet till Flo settles down to enjoy the FLIRTATIONS OF CAPTAIN CAVENDISH, and I have the scenery all to myself.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Of course it rained when we got to London, and there was nothing to be seen but fog and umbrellas. We rested, unpacked, and shopped a little between the showers. Aunt Mary got me some new things, for I came off in such a hurry I wasn't half ready. A white hat and blue feather, a muslin dress to match, and the loveliest mantle you ever saw. Shopping in Regent Street is perfectly splendid. Things seem so cheap, nice ribbons only sixpence a yard. I laid in a stock, but shall get my gloves in Paris. Doesn't that sound sort of elegant and rich?</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Flo and I, for the fun of it, ordered a hansom cab, while Aunt and Uncle were out, and went for a drive, though we learned afterward that it wasn't the thing for young ladies to ride in them alone. It was so droll! For when we were shut in by the wooden apron, the man drove so fast that Flo was frightened, and told me to stop him. but he was up outside behind somewhere, and I couldn't get at him. He didn't hear me call, nor see me flap my parasol in front, and there we were, quite helpless, rattling away, and whirling around corners at a breakneck pace. At last, in my despair, I saw a little door in the roof, and on poking it open, a red eye appeared, and a beery voice said...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now, then, mum?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I gave my order as soberly as I could, and slamming down the door, with an "Aye, aye, mum," the man made his horse walk, as if going to a funeral. I poked again and said, "A little faster," then off he went, helter-skelter as before, and we resigned ourselves to our fate.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Today was fair, and we went to Hyde Park, close by, for we are more aristocratic than we look. The Duke of Devonshire lives near. I often see his footmen lounging at the back gate, and the Duke of Wellington's house is not far off. Such sights as I saw, my dear! It was as good as Punch, for there were fat dowagers rolling about in their red and yellow coaches, with gorgeous Jeameses in silk stockings and velvet coats, up behind, and powdered coachmen in front. Smart maids, with the rosiest children I ever saw, handsome girls, looking half asleep, dandies in queer English hats and lavender kids lounging about, and tall soldiers, in short red jackets and muffin caps stuck on one side, looking so funny I longed to sketch them.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Rotten Row means `Route de Roi', or the king's way, but now it's more like a riding school than anything else. The horses are splendid, and the men, especially the grooms, ride well, but the women are stiff, and bounce, which isn't according to our rules. I longed to show them a tearing American gallop, for they trotted solemnly up and down, in their scant habits and high hats, looking like the women in a toy Noah's Ark. Everyone rides--old men, stout ladies, little children-- and the young folks do a deal of flirting here, I say a pair exchange rose buds, for it's the thing to wear one in the button-hole, and I thought it rather a nice little idea.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In the P.M. to Westminster Abbey, but don't expect me to describe it, that's impossible, so I'll only say it was sublime! This evening we are going to see Fechter, which will be an appropriate end to the happiest day of my life.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It's very late, but I can't let my letter go in the morning without telling you what happened last evening. Who do you think came in, as we were at tea? Laurie's English friends, Fred and Frank Vaughn! I was so surprised, for I shouldn't have known them but for the cards. both are tall fellows with whiskers, Fred handsome in the English style, and Frank much better, for he only limps slightly, and uses no crutches. They had heard from Laurie where we were to be, and came to ask us to their house, but Uncle won't go, so we shall return the call, and see them as we can. They went to the theater with us, and we did have such a good time, for Frank devoted himself to Flo, and Fred and I talked over past, present, and future fun as if we had know each other all our days. Tell Beth Frank asked for her, and was sorry to hear of her ill health. Fred laughed when I spoke of Jo, and sent his `respectful compliments to the big hat'. Neither of them had forgotten Camp Laurence, or the fun we had there. What ages ago it seems, doesn't it?</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Aunt is tapping on the wall for the third time, so I must stop. I really feel like a dissipated London fine lady, writing here so late, with my room full of pretty things, and my head a jumble of parks, theaters, new gowns, and gallant creatures who say "Ah!" and twirl their blond mustaches with the true English lordliness. I long to see you all, and in spite of my nonsense am, as ever, your loving... AMY</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">PARIS</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Dear girls,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In my last I told you about our London visit, how kind the Vaughns were, and what pleasant parties they made for us. I enjoyed the trips to Hampton Court and the Kensington Museum more than anything else, for at Hampton I saw Raphael's cartoons, and at the Museum, rooms full of pictures by Turner, Lawrence, Reynolds, Hogarth, and the other great creatures. The day in Richmond Park was charming, for we had a regular English picnic, and I had more splendid oaks and groups of deer than I could copy, also heard a nightingale, and saw larks go up. We `did' London to our heart's content, thanks to Fred and Frank, and were sorry to go away, for though English people are slow to take you in, when they once make up their minds to do it they cannot be outdone in hospitality, I think. The Vaughns hope to meet us in Rome next winter, and I shall be dreadfully disappointed if they don't, for Grace and I are great friends, and the boys very nice fellows, especially Fred.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Well, we were hardly settled here, when he turned up again, saying he had come for a holiday, and was going to Switzerland. Aunt looked sober at first, but he was so cool about it she couldn't say a word. And now we get on nicely, and are very glad he came, for he speaks French like a native, and I don't know what we should do without him. Uncle doesn't know ten words, and insists on talking English very loud, as if it would make people understand him. Aunt's pronunciation is old-fashioned, and Flo and I, though we flattered ourselves that we knew a good deal, find we don't, and are very grateful to have Fred do the `parley vooing', as Uncle calls it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Such delightful times as we are having! Sight-seeing from morning till night, stopping for nice lunches in the gay cafes, and meeting with all sorts of droll adventures. Rainy days I spend in the Louvre, revelling in pictures. Jo would turn up her naughty nose at some of the finest, because she has no soul for art, but I have, and I'm cultivation eye and taste as fast as I can. She would like the relics of great people better, for I've seen her Napoleon's cocked hat and gray coat, his baby's cradle and his old toothbrush, also Marie Antoinette's little shoe, the ring of Saint Denis, Charlemagne's sword, and many other interesting things. I'll talk for hours about them when I come, but haven't time to write.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The Palais Royale is a heavenly place, so full of bijouterie and lovely things that I'm nearly distracted because I can't buy them. Fred wanted to get me some, but of course I didn't allow it. Then the Bois and Champs Elysees are tres magnifique. I've seen the imperial family several times, the emperor an ugly, hard-looking man, the empress pale and pretty, but dressed in bad taste, I thought--purple dress, green hat, and yellow gloves. Little Nap is a handsome boy, who sits chatting to his tutor, and kissed his hand to the people as he passes in his four-horse barouche, with postilions in red satin jackets and a mounted guard before and behind.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">We often walk in the Tuileries Gardens, for they are lovely, though the antique Luxembourg Gardens suit me better. Pere la Chaise is very curious, for many of the tombs are like small rooms, and looking in, one sees a table, with images or pictures of the dead, and chairs for the mourners to sit in when they come to lament. That is so Frenchy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Our rooms are on the Rue de Rivoli, and sitting on the balcony, we look up and down the long, brilliant street. It is so pleasant that we spend our evenings talking there when too tired with our day's work to go out. Fred is very entertaining, and is altogether the most agreeable young man I ever knew-- except Laurie, whose manners are more charming. I wish Fred was dark, for I don't fancy light men, however, the Vaughns are very rich and come of an excellent family, so I won't find fault with their yellow hair, as my own is yellower.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Next week we are off to Germany and Switzerland, and as we shall travel fast, I shall only be able to give you hasty letters. I keep my diary, and try to `remember correctly and describe clearly all that I see and admire', as Father advised. It is good practice for me, and with my sketchbook will give you a better idea of my tour than these scribbles.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Adieu, I embrace you tenderly. VOTRE AMIE</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">HEIDELBERG</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">My dear Mamma,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Having a quiet hour before we leave for Berne, I'll try to tell you what has happened, for some of it is very important, as you will see.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The sail up the Rhine was perfect, and I just sat and enjoyed it with all my might. Get Father's old guidebooks and read about it. I haven't words beautiful enough to describe it. At Coblenz we had a lovely time, for some students from Bonn, with whom Fred got acquainted on the boat, gave us a serenade. It was a moonlight night, and about one o'clock Flo and I were waked by the most delicious music under our windows. We flew up, and hid behind the curtains, but sly peeps showed us Fred and the students singing away down below. It was the most romantic thing I ever saw--the river, the bridge of boats, the great fortress opposite, moonlight everywhere, and music fit to melt a heart of stone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When they were done we threw down some flowers, and saw them scramble for them, kiss their hands to the invisible ladies, and go laughing away, to smoke and drink beer, I suppose. Next morning Fred showed me one of the crumpled flowers in his vest pocket, and looked very sentimental. I laughed at him, and said I didn't throw it, but Flo, which seemed to disgust him, for he tossed it out of the window, and turned sensible again. I'm afraid I'm going to have trouble with that boy, it begins to look like it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The baths at Nassau were very gay, so was Baden-Baden, where Fred lost some money, and I scolded him. He needs someone to look after him when Frank is not with him. Kate said once she hoped he'd marry soon, and I quite agree with her that it would be well for him. Frankfurt was delightful. I saw Goeth's house, Schiller's statue, and Dannecker's famous Ariadne. It was very lovely, but I should have enjoyed it more if I had known the story better. I didn't like to ask, as everyone knew it or pretended they did. I wish Jo would tell me all about it. I ought to have read more, for I find I don't know anything, and it mortifies me.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Now comes the serious part, for it happened here, and Fred has just gone. He has been so kind and jolly that we all got quite fond of him. I never thought of anything but a traveling friendship till the serenade night. Since then I've begun to feel that the moonlight walks, balcony talks, and daily adventures were something more to him than fun. I haven't flirted, Mother, truly, but remembered what you said to me, and have done my very best. I can't help it if people like me. I don't try to make them, and it worries me if I don't care for them, though Jo says I haven't got any heart. Now I know Mother will shake her head, and the girls say, "Oh, the mercenary little wretch!", but I've made up my mind, and if Fred asks me, I shall accept him, though I'm not madly in love. I like him, and we get on comfortably together. He is handsome, young, clever enough, and very rich--ever so much richer than the Laurences. I don't think his family would object, and I should be very happy, for they are all kind, well-bred, generous people, and they like me. Fred, as the eldest twin, will have the estate, I suppose, and such a splendid one it is! A city house in a fashionable street, not so showy as our big houses, but twice as comfortable and full of solid luxury, such as English people believe in. I like it, for it's genuine. I've seen the plate, the family jewels, the old servants, and pictures of the country place, with its park, great house, lovely grounds, and fine horses. Oh, it would be all I should ask! And I'd rather have it than any title such as girls snap up so readily, and find nothing behind. I may be mercenary, but I hate poverty, and don't mean to bear it a minute longer than I can help. One of us must marry well. Meg didn't, Jo won't, Beth can't yet, so I shall, and make everything okay all round. I wouldn't marry a man I hated or despised. You may be sure of that, and though Fred is not my model hero, he does very well, and in time I should get fond enough of him if he was very fond of me, and let me do just as I liked. So I've been turning the matter over in my mind the last week, for it was impossible to help seeing that Fred liked me. He said nothing, but little things showed it. He never goes with Flo, always gets on my side of the carriage, table, or promenade, looks sentimental when we are alone, and frowns at anyone else who ventures to speak tome. Yesterday at dinner, when an Austrian officer stared at us and then said something to his friend, a rakish-looking baron, about `ein wonderschones Blondchen', Fred looked as fierce as a lion, and cut his meat so savagely it nearly flew off his plate. He isn't one of the cool, stiff Englishmen, but is rather peppery, for he has Scotch blood in him, as one might guess from his bonnie blue eyes.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Well, last evening we went up to the castle about sunset, at least all of us but Fred, who was to meet us there after going to the Post Restante for letters. We had a charming time poking about the ruins, the vaults where the monster tun is, and the beautiful gardens made by the elector long ago for his English wife. I liked the great terrace best, for the view was divine, so while the rest went to see the rooms inside, I sat there trying to sketch the gray stone lion's head on the wall, with scarlet woodbine sprays hanging round it. I felt as if I'd got into a romance, sitting there, watching the Meckar rolling through the valley, listening to the music of the Austrian band below, and waiting for my lover, like a real storybook girl. I had a feeling that something was going to happen and I was ready for it. I didn't feel blushy or quakey, but quite cool and only a little excited.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">By-and-by I heard Fred's voice, and then he came hurrying through the great arch to find me. He looked so troubled that I forgot all about myself, and asked what the matter was. He said he'd just got a letter begging him to come home, for Frank was very ill. So he was going at once on the night train and only had time to say good-by. I was very sorry for him, and disappointed for myself, but only for a minute because he said, as he shook hands, and said it in a way that I could not mistake, "I shall soon come back, you won't forget me, Amy?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I didn't promise, but I looked at him, and he seemed satisfied, and there was no time for anything but messages and good-byes, for he was off in an hour, and we all miss him very much. I know he wanted to speak, but I think, from something he once hinted, that he had promised his father not to do anything of the sort yet a while, for is is a rash boy, and the old gentleman dreads a foreign daughter-in-law. We shall soon meet in Rome, and then, if I don't change my mind, I'll say "Yes, thank you," when he says "Will you, please?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Of course this is all very private, but I wished you to know what was going on. Don't be anxious about me, remember I am your `prudent Amy', and be sure I will do nothing rashly. Send me as much advice as you like. I'll use it if I can. I wish I could see you for a good talk, Marmee. Love and trust me.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Ever your AMY</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-37693949726677113252022-08-02T11:10:00.001+05:302022-08-02T11:10:13.317+05:30PART TWO: CHAPTER TWENTY -NINE - Calls - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">"Come, Jo, it's time."</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"For what?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You don't mean to say you have forgotten that you promised to make half a dozen calls with me today?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've done a good many rash and foolish things in my life, but I don't think I ever was mad enough to say I'd make six calls in one day, when a single one upsets me for a week."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, you did, it was a bargain between us. I was to finish the crayon of Beth for you, and you were to go properly with me, and return our neighbors' visits."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If it was fair, that was in the bond, and I stand to the letter of my bond, Shylock. There is a pile of clouds in the east, it's not fair, and I don't go."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now, that's shirking. It's a lovely day, no prospect of rain, and you pride yourself on keeping; promises, so be honorable, come and do your duty, and then be at peace for another six months."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">At that minute Jo was particularly absorbed in dressmaking, for she was mantua-maker general to the family, and took especial credit to herself because she could use a needle as well as a pen. It was very provoking to be arrested in the act of a first tryingon, and ordered out to make calls in her best array on a warm July day. She hated calls of the formal sort, and never made any till Amy compelled her with a bargain, bribe, or promise. In the present instance there was no escape, and having clashed her scissors rebelliously, while protesting that she smelled thunder, she gave in, put away her work, and taking up her hat and gloves with an air of resignation, told Amy the victim was ready.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Jo March, you are perverse enough to provoke a saint! You don't intend to make calls in that state, I hope," cried Amy, surveying her with amazement.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why not? I'm neat and cool and comfortable, quite proper for a dusty walk on a warm day. If people care more for my clothes than they do for me, I don't wish to see them. You can dress for both, and be as elegant as you please. It pays for you to be fine. It doesn't for me, and furbelows only worry me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, dear!" sighed Amy, "now she's in a contrary fit, and will drive me distracted before I can get her properly ready. I'm sure it's no pleasure to me to go today, but it's a debt we owe society, and there's no one to pay it but you and me. I'll do anything for you, Jo, if you'll only dress yourself nicely, and come and help me do the civil. You can talk so well, look so aristocratic in your best things, and behave so beautifully, if you try, that I'm proud of you. I'm afraid to go alone, do come and take care of me."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CIbak9K4p_kCFU2G6QUdn6IALw" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.18~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418791&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-nine-calls&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMl-dyTxjtaDKwU45v7WMbyXIAAnuqfwi-GwCMNjQZWNqs0L_QKtweDMRMfO5NmVXRkGzdgWbbG2&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418539667&bpp=11&bdt=919&idt=11&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=7098916220032&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418539&ga_hid=521932107&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1625&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068669%2C44769951%2C42531606%2C42531607%2C31067825%2C31064019&oid=2&pvsid=1322438665831340&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=JqkpQpgntd&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You're an artful little puss to flatter and wheedle your cross old sister in that way. The idea of my being aristocratic and well-bred, and your being afraid to go anywhere alone! I don't know which is the most absurd. Well, I'll go if I must, and do my best. You shall be commander of the expedition, and I'll obey blindly, will that satisfy you?" said Jo, with a sudden change from perversity to lamblike submission.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You're a perfect cherub! Now put on all your best things, and I'll tell you how to behave at each place, so that you will make a good impression. I want people to like you, and they would if you'd only try to be a little more agreeable. Do your hair the pretty way, and put the pink rose in your bonnet. It's becoming, and you look too sober in your plain suit. Take your light gloves and the embroidered handkerchief. We'll stop at Meg's, and borrow her white sunshade, and then you can have my dove-colored one."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">While Amy dressed, she issued her orders, and Jo obeyed them, not without entering her protest, however, for she sighed as she rustled into her new organdie, frowned darkly at herself as she tied her bonnet strings in an irreproachable bow, wrestled viciously with pins as she put on her collar, wrinkled up her features generally as she shook out the handkerchief, whose embroidery was as irritating to her nose as the present mission was to her feelings, and when she had squeezed her hands into tight gloves with three buttons and a tassel, as the last touch of elegance, she turned to Amy with an imbecile expression of countenance, saying meekly...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm perfectly miserable, but if you consider me presentable, I die happy."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="CIPb3dy4p_kCFbGH6QUdm5kNwQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.22~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418813&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-nine-calls&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMl-dyTxjtaDKwU45v7WMbyXIAAnuqfwi-GwCMNjQZWNqs0L_QKtweDMRMfO5NmVXRkGzdgWbbG2&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418539758&bpp=5&bdt=1011&idt=5&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=7098916220032&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418539&ga_hid=521932107&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2195&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=382&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068669%2C44769951%2C42531606%2C42531607%2C31067825%2C31064019&oid=2&pvsid=1322438665831340&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=9KHmA7mvUd&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You're highly satisfactory. turn slowly round, and let me get a careful view." Jo revolved, and Amy gave a touch here and there, then fell back, with her head on one side, observing graciously, "Yes, you'll do. Your head is all I could ask, for that white bonnet with the rose is quite ravishing. Hold back your shoulders, and carry your hands easily, no matter if your gloves do pinch. There's one thing you can do well, Jo, that is, wear a shawl. I can't, but it's very nice to see you, and I'm so glad Aunt March gave you that lovely one. It's simple, but handsome, and those folds over the arm are really artistic. Is the point of my mantle in the middle, and have I looped my dress evenly? I like to show my boots, for my feet are pretty, though my nose isn't."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You are a thing of beauty and a joy forever," said Jo, looking through her hand with the air of a connoisseur at the blue feather against the golden hair. "Am I to drag my best dress through the dust, or loop it up, please, ma'am?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hold it yup when you walk, but drop it in the house. The sweeping style suits you best, and you must learn to trail your skirts gracefully. You haven't half buttoned one cuff, do it at once. You'll never look finished if you are not careful about the little details, for they make yup the pleasing whole."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo sighed, and proceeded to burst the buttons off her glove, in doing up her cuff, but at last both were ready, and sailed away, looking as `pretty as picters', Hannah said, as she hung out of the upper window to watch them.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now, Jo dear, the Chesters consider themselves very elegant people, so I want you to put on your best deportment. Don't make any of your abrupt remarks, or do anything odd, will you? Just be calm, cool, and quiet, that's safe and ladylike, and you can easily do it for fifteen minutes," said Amy, as they approached the first place, having borrowed the white parasol and been inspected by Meg, with a baby on each arm.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Let me see. `Calm, cool, and quiet', yes, I think I can promise that. I've played the part of a prim young lady on the stage, and I'll try it off. My powers are great, as you shall see, so be easy in your mind, my child."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy looked relieved, but naughty Jo took her at her word, for during the first call she sat with every limb gracefully composed, every fold correctly draped, calm as a summer sea, cool as a snowbank, and as silent as the sphinx. In vain Mrs. Chester alluded to her `charming novel', and the Misses Chester introduced parties, picnics, the opera, and the fashions. Each and all were answered by a smile, a bow, and a demure "Yes" or "No" with the chill on. In vain Amy telegraphed the word `talk', tried to draw her out, and administered covert pokes with her foot. Jo sat as if blandly unconcious of it all, with deportment like Maud's face, `icily regular, splendidly null'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What a haughty, uninteresting creature that oldest Miss March is!" was the unfortunately audible remark of one of the ladies, as the door closed upon their guests. Jo laughed noiselessly all through the hall, but Amy looked disgusted at the failure of her instructions, and very naturally laid the blame upon Jo.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CMWnwd-4p_kCFaSI6QUdUUcEHA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.30~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418819&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-nine-calls&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMl-dyTxjtaDKwU45v7WMbyXIAAnuqfwi-GwCMNjQZWNqs0L_QKtweDMRMfO5NmVXRkGzdgWbbG2&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418539780&bpp=3&bdt=1033&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=7098916220032&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418539&ga_hid=521932107&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3335&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=1539&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068669%2C44769951%2C42531606%2C42531607%2C31067825%2C31064019&oid=2&pvsid=1322438665831340&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=FklBMKqKDO&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How could you mistake me so? I merely meant you to be properly dignified and composed, and you made yourself a perfect stock and stone. Try to be sociable at the Lamb's'. Gossip as other girls do, and be interested in dress and flirtations and whatever nonsense comes up. They move in the best society, are valuable persons for us to know, and I wouldn't fail to make a good impression there for anything."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll be agreeable. I'll gossip and giggle, and have horrors and raptures over any trifle you like. I rather enjoy this, and now I'll imitate what is called `a charming girl'. I can do it, for I have May Chester as a model, and I'll improve upon her. See if the Lambs don't say, `What a lively, nice creature that Jo March is!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy felt anxious, as well she might, for when Jo turned freakish there was no knowing where she would stop. Amy's face was a study when she saw her sister skim into the next drawing room, kiss all the young ladies with effusion, beam graciously upon the young gentlemen, and join in the chat with a spirit which amazed the beholder. Amy was taken possession of by Mrs. Lamb, with whom she was a favorite, and forced to hear a long account of Lucretia's last attack, while three delightful young gentlemen hovered near, waiting for a pause when they might rush in and rescue her. So situated, she was powerless to check Jo, who seemed possessed by a spirit of mischief, and talked away as volubly as the lady. A knot of heads gathered about her, and Amy strained her ears to hear what was going on, for broken sentences filled her with curiosity, and frequent peals of laughter made her wild to share the fun. One may imagine her suffering on overhearing fragments of this sort of conversation.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"She rides splendidly. who taught her?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No one. She used to practice mounting, holding the reins, and sitting straight on an old saddle in a tree. Now she rides anything, for she doesn't know what fear is, and the stableman lets her have horses cheap because she trains them to carry ladies so well. She has such a passion for it, I often tell her if everything else fails, she can be a horsebreaker, and get her living so."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">At this awful speech Amy contained herself with difficulty, for the impression was being given that she was rather a fast young lady, which was her especial aversion. But what could she do? For the old lady was in the middle of her story, and long before it was done, Jo was off again, make more droll revelations and committing still more fearful blunders.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, Amy was in despair that day, for all the good beasts were gone, and of three left, one was lame, one blind, and the other so balky that you had to put dirt in his mouth before he would start. Nice animal for a pleasure party, wasn't it?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Which did she choose?" asked one of the laughing gentlemen, who enjoyed the subject.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"None of them. She heard of a young horse at the farm house over the river, and though a lady had never ridden him, she resolved to try, because he was handsome and spirited. Her struggles were really pathetic. There was no one to bring the horse to the saddle, so she took the saddle to the horse. My dear creature, she actually rowed it over the river, put it on her head, and marched up to the barn to the utter amazement of the old man!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Did she ride the horse?'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course she did, and had a capital time. I expected to see her brought home in fragments, but she managed him perfectly, and was the life of the party."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I call that plucky!" And young Mr. Lamb turned an approving glance upon Amy, wondering what his mother could be saying to make the girl look so red and uncomfortable.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CLuRgeC4p_kCFeeC6QUd_UsBtA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.42~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418820&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-nine-calls&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMl-dyTxjtaDKwU45v7WMbyXIAAnuqfwi-GwCMNjQZWNqs0L_QKtweDMRMfO5NmVXRkGzdgWbbG2&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418539801&bpp=5&bdt=1054&idt=5&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=7098916220032&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418539&ga_hid=521932107&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=4715&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=2902&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068669%2C44769951%2C42531606%2C42531607%2C31067825%2C31064019&oid=2&pvsid=1322438665831340&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=leVaUCIgAB&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She was still redder and more uncomfortable a moment after, when a sudden turn in the conversation introduced the subject of dress. One of the young ladies asked Jo where she got the pretty drab hat she wore to the picnic and stupid Jo, instead of mentioning the place where it was bought two years ago, must needs answer with unnecessary frankness, "Oh, Amy painted it. You can't buy those soft shades, so we paint ours any color we like. It's a great comfort to have an artistic sister."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Isn't that an original idea?" cried Miss Lamb, who found Jo great fun.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's nothing compared to some of her brilliant performances. There's nothing the child can't do. Why, she wanted a pair of blue boots for Sallie's party, so she just painted her soiled white ones the loveliest shade of sky blue you ever saw, and they looked exactly like satin," added Jo, with an air of pride in her sister's accomplishments that exasperated Amy till she felt that it would be a relief to throw her cardcase at her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We read a story of yours the other day, and enjoyed it very much," observed the elder Miss Lamb, wishing to compliment the literary lady, who did not look the character just then, it must be confessed.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Any mention of her `works' always had a bad effect upon Jo, who either grew rigid and looked offended, or changed the subject with a brusque remark, as now. "Sorry you could find nothing better to read. I write that rubbish because it sells, and ordinary people like it. Are you going to New York this winter?'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As Miss Lamb had `enjoyed' the story, this speech was not exactly grateful or complimentary. The minute it was made Jo saw her mistake, but fearing to make the matter worse, suddenly remembered that it was for her to make the first move toward departure, and did so with an abruptness that left three people with half- finished sentences in their mouths.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Amy, we must go. Good-by, dear, do come and see us. We are pining for a visit. I don't dare to ask you, Mr. Lamb, but if you should come, I don't think I shall have the heart to send you away."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo said this with such a droll imitation of May Chester's gushing style that Amy got out of the room as rapidly as possible, feeling a strong desire to laugh and cry at the same time.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Didn't I do well?" asked Jo, with a satisfied air as they walked away.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Nothing could have been worse," was Amy's crushing reply. "What possessed you to tell those stories about my saddle, and the hats and boots, and all the rest of it?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why, it's funny, and amuses people. They know we are poor, so it's no use pretending that we have grooms, buy three or four hats a season, and have things as easy and fine as they do."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You needn't go and tell them all our little shifts, and expose our; poverty in that perfectly unnecessary way. You haven't a bit of proper pride, and never will learn when to hold your tongue and when to speak," said Amy despairingly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Poor Jo looked abashed, and silently chafed the end of her nose with the stiff handkerchief, as if performing a penance for her misdemeanors.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How shall I behave here?" she asked, as they approached the third mansion.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Just as you please. I wash my hands of you," was Amy's short answer.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then I'll enjoy myself. The boys are at home, and we'll have a comfortable time. Goodness knows I need a little change, for elegance has a bad effect upon my constitution," returned Jo gruffly, being disturbed by her failure to suit.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">An enthusiastic welcome from three big boys and several pretty children speedily soothed her ruffled feelings, and leaving Amy to entertain the hostess and Mr. Tudor, who happened to be calling likewise, Jo devoted herself to the young folks and found the change refreshing. She listened to college stories with deep interest, caressed pointers and poodles without a murmur, agreed heartily that "Tom Brown was a brick," regardless of the improper form of praise, and when one lad proposed a visit to his turtle tank, she went with an alacrity which caused Mamma to smile upon her, as that motherly lady settled the cap which was left in a ruinous condition by filial hugs, bearlike but affectionate, and dearer to her than the most faultless coiffure from the hands of an inspired Frenchwoman.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_7_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_7_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!8" data-google-query-id="COrZ1OC4p_kCFUa9vQodqWEGHQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_7" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_7" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=544027183&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.59~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418821&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-nine-calls&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMl-dyTxjtaDKwU45v7WMbyXIAAnuqfwi-GwCMNjQZWNqs0L_QKtweDMRMfO5NmVXRkGzdgWbbG2&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418539824&bpp=6&bdt=1076&idt=6&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=7&correlator=7098916220032&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418539&ga_hid=521932107&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=6380&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=4668&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068669%2C44769951%2C42531606%2C42531607%2C31067825%2C31064019&oid=2&pvsid=1322438665831340&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=8&uci=a!8&btvi=6&fsb=1&xpc=atdVCWfIuv&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Leaving her sister to her own devices, Amy proceeded to enjoy herself to her heart's content. Mr. Tudor's uncle had married an English lady who was third cousin to a living lord, and Amy regarded the whole family with great respect, for in spite of her American birth and breeding, she possessed that reverence for titles which haunts the best of us--that unacknowledged loyalty to the early faith in kings which set the most democratic nation under the sun in ferment at the coming of a royal yellow-haired laddie, some years ago, and which still has something to do with the love the young country bears the old, like that of a big son for an imperious little mother, who held him while she could, and let him go with a farewell scolding when he rebelled. But even the satisfaction of talking with a distant connection of the British nobility did not render Amy forgetful of time, and when the proper number of minutes had passed, she reluctantly tore herself from this aristocratic society, and looked about for Jo, fervently hoping that her incorrigible sister would not be found in any position which should bring disgrace upon the name of March.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It might have been worse, but Amy considered it bad. For Jo sat on the grass, with an encampment of boys about her, and a dirty-footed dog reposing on the skirt of her state and festival dress, as she related one of Laurie's pranks to her admiring audience. One small child was poking turtles with Amy's cherished parasol, a second was eating gingerbread over Jo's best bonnet, and a third playing ball with her gloves. but all were enjoying themselves, and when Jo collected her damaged property to go, her escort accompanied her, begging her to come again, "It was such fun to hear about Laurie's larks."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Capital boys, aren't they? I feel quite young and brisk again after that." said Jo, strolling along with her hands behind her, partly from habit, partly to conceal the bespattered parasol.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why do you always avoid Mr. Tudor?" asked Amy, wisely refraining from any comment upon Jo's dilapidated appearance.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't like him, he puts on airs, snubs his sisters, worries his father, a nd doesn't speak respectfully of his mother. Laurie says he is fast, and I don't consider him a desirable acquaintance, so I let him alone."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You might treat him civilly, at least. You gave him a cool nod, and just now you bowed and smiled in the politest way to Tommy Chamberlain, whose father keeps a grocery store. If you had just reversed the nod and the bow, it would have been right," said Amy reprovingly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, it wouldn't," returned Jo, "I neither like, respect, nor admire Tudor, though his grandfather's uncle's nephew's niece was a third cousin to a lord. Tommy is poor and bashful and good and very clever. I think well of him, and like to show that I do, for he is a gentleman in spite of the brown paper parcels."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's no use trying to argue with you," began Amy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not the least, my dear," interrupted Jo, "so let us look amiable, and drop a card here, as the Kings are evidently out, for which I'm deeply grateful."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The family cardcase having done its duty the girls walked on, and Jo uttered another thanksgiving on reaching the fifth house, and being told that the young ladies were engaged.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"now let us go home, and never mind Aunt March today. We can run down there any time, and it's really a pity to trail through the dust in our best bibs and tuckers, when we are tired and cross."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Speak for yourself, if you please. Aunt March likes to have us pay her the compliment of coming in style, and making a formal call. It's a little thing to do, but it gives her pleasure, and I don't believe it will hurt your things half so much as letting dirty dogs and clumping boys spoil them. Stoop down, and let me take the crumbs off of your bonnet."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What a good girl you are, Amy!" said Jo, with a repentant glance from her own damaged costume to that of her sister, which was fresh and spotless still. "I wish it was as easy for me to do little things to please people as it is for you. I think of them, but it takes too much time to do them, so I wait for a chance to confer a great favor, and let the small ones slip, but they tell best in the end, I fancy."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy smiled and was mollified at once, saying with a maternal air, "Women should learn to be agreeable, particularly poor ones, for they have no other way of repaying the kindnesses they receive. If you'd remember that, and practice it, you'd be better liked than I am, because there is more of you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm a crotchety old thing, and always shall be, but I'm willing to own that you are right, only it's easier for me to risk my life for a person than to be pleasant to him when I don't feel like it. It's a great misfortune to have such strong likes and dislikes, isn't it?"</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_8_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_8_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!9" data-google-query-id="CLKEj-G4p_kCFbGH6QUdm5kNwQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_8" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_8" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=879892236&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.74~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418822&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-nine-calls&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMl-dyTxjtaDKwU45v7WMbyXIAAnuqfwi-GwCMNjQZWNqs0L_QKtweDMRMfO5NmVXRkGzdgWbbG2&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418539911&bpp=5&bdt=1164&idt=6&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=8&correlator=7098916220032&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418539&ga_hid=521932107&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=8105&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=6332&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068669%2C44769951%2C42531606%2C42531607%2C31067825%2C31064019&oid=2&pvsid=1322438665831340&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=9&uci=a!9&btvi=7&fsb=1&xpc=nIXvk4uGb7&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's a greater not to be able to hide them. I don't mind saying that I don't approve of Tudor any more than you do, but I'm not called upon to tell him so. Neither are you, and there is no use in making yourself disagreeable because he is."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"But I think girls ought to show when they disapprove of young men, and how can they do it except by their manners? Preaching does not do any good, as I know to my sorrow, since I've had Teddie to manage. But there are many little ways in which I can influence him without a word, and I say we ought to do it to others if we can."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Teddy is a remarkable boy, and can't be taken as a sample of other boys," said Amy, in a tone of solemn conviction, which would have convulsed the `remarkable boy' if he had heard it. "If we were belles, or women of wealth and position, we might do something, perhaps, but for us to frown at one set of young gentlemen because we don't approve of them, and smile upon another set because we do, wouldn't have a particle of effect, and we should only be considered odd and puritanical."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So we are to countenance things and people which we detest, merely because we are not belles and millionaires, are we? That's a nice sort of morality."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I can't argue about it, I only know that it's the way of the world, and people who set themselves against it only get laughed at for their pains. I don't like reformers, and I hope you never try to be one."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I do like them, and I shall be one if I can, for in spite of the laughing the world would never get on without them. We can't agree about that. for you belong to the old set, and I to the new. You will get on the best, but I shall have the liveliest time of it. I should rather enjoy the brickbats and hooting, I think."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, compose yourself now, and don't worry Aunt with your new ideas."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll try not to, but I'm always possessed to burst out with some particularly blunt speech or revolutionary sentiment before her. It's my doom, and I can't help it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They found Aunt Carrol with the old lady, both absorbed in some very interesting subject, but they dropped it as the girls came in, with a conscious look which betrayed that they had been talking about their nieces. Jo was not in a good humor, and the perverse fit returned, but Amy, who had virtuously done her duty, kept her temper and pleased everybody, was in a most angelic frame of mind. This amiable spirit was felt at once, and both aunts `my deared' her affectionately, looking what they afterward said emphatically, "That child improves every day."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Are you going to help about the fair, dear?" asked Mrs. Carrol, as Amy sat down beside her with the confiding air elderly people like so well in the young.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, Aunt. Mrs. Chester asked me if I would, and I offered to tend a table, as I have nothing but my time to give."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm not," put in Jo decidedly. "I hate to be patronized, and the Chesters think it's a great favor to allow us to help with their highly connected fair. I wonder you consented, Amy, they only want you to work."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I am willing to work. It's for the freedmen as well as the Chesters, and I think it very kind of them to let me share the labor and the fun. Patronage does not trouble me when it is well meant."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Quite right and proper. I like your grateful spirit, my dear. It's a pleasure to help people who appreciate our efforts. Some do not, and that is trying," observed Aunt March, looking over her spectacles at Jo, who sat apart, rocking herself, with a somewhat morose expression.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">If Jo had only known what a great happiness was wavering in the balance for one of them, she would have turned dove-like in a minute, but unfortunately, we don't have windows in our breasts, and cannot see what goes on in the minds of our friends. Better for us that we cannot as a general thing, but now and then it would be such a comfort, such a saving of time and temper. By her next speech, Jo deprived herself of several years of pleasure, and received a timely lesson in the art of holding her tongue.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't like favors, they oppress and make me feel like a slave. I'd rather do everything for myself, and be perfectly independent."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Ahem!" coughed Aunt Carrol softly, with a look at Aunt March.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I told you so," said Aunt March, with a decided nod to Aunt Carrol.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mercifully unconscious of what she had done, Jo sat with her nose in the air, and a revolutionary aspect which was anything but inviting.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you speak French, dear?" asked Mrs. Carrol, laying a hand on Amy's.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Pretty well, thanks to Aunt March, who lets Esther talk to me as often as I like," replied amy, with a grateful look, which caused the old lady to smile affably.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How are you about languages?" asked Mrs. Carrol of JO.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't know a word. I'm very stupid about studying anything, can't bear French, it's such a slippery, silly sort of language," was the brusque reply.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Another look passed between the ladies, and Aunt March said to Amy, 'You are quite strong and well no, dear, I believe? Eyes don't trouble you any more, do they?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not at all, thank you, ma'am. I'm very well, and mean to do great things next winter, so that I may be ready for Rome, whenever that joyful time arrives."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Good girl! You deserve to go, and I'm sure you will some day," said Aunt March, with an approving; pat on the head, as Amy picked up her ball for her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Crosspatch, draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">squalled Polly, bending down from his perch on the back of her chair to peep into Jo's face, with such a comical air of impertinent inquiry that it was impossible to help laughing.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Most observing bird," said the old lady.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Come and take a walk, my dear?" cried Polly, hopping toward the china closet, with a look suggestive of a lump of sugar.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Thank you, I will. Come Amy." And Jo brought the visit to an end, feeling more strongly than ever that calls did have a bad effect upon her constitution. She shook hands in a gentlemanly manner, but Amy kissed both the aunts, and the girls departed, leaving behind them the impression of shadow and sunshine, which impression caused Aunt March to say, as they vanished...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'd better do it, Mary. I'll supply the money. And Aunt Carrol to reply decidedly, "I certainly will, if her father and mother consent."</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-62686719658521755722022-08-02T11:09:00.003+05:302022-08-02T11:09:28.649+05:30PART TWO: CHAPTER TWENTY - EIGHT - Domestic Experiences - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Like most other young matrons, Meg began her married life with the determination to be a model housekeeper. John should find home a paradise, he should always see a smiling face, should fare sumptuously every day, and never know the loss of a button. She brought so much love, energy, and cheerfulness to the work that she could not but succeed, in spite of some obstacles. Her paradise was not a tranquil one, for the little woman fussed, was over-anxious to please, and bustled about like a true Martha, cumbered with many cares. She was too tired, sometimes, even to smile, John grew dyspeptic after a course of dainty dishes and ungratefully demanded plain fare. As for buttons, she soon learned to wonder where they went, to shake her head over the carelessness of men, and to threaten to make him sew them on himself, and see if his work would stand impatient and clumsy fingers any better than hers.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They were very happy, even after they discovered that they couldn't live on love alone. John did not find Meg's beauty diminished, though she beamed at him from behind the familiar coffee pot. Nor did Meg miss any of the romance from the daily parting, when her husband followed up his kiss with the tender inquiry, "Shall I send some veal or mutton for dinner, darling?" The little house ceased to be a glorified bower, but it became a home, and the young couple soon felt that it was a change for the better. At first they played keep-house, and frolicked over it like children. Then John took steadily to business, feeling the cares of the head of a family upon his shoulders, and Meg laid by her cambric wrappers, put on a big apron, and fell to work, as before said, with more energy than discretion.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CNzHz7-4p_kCFQvSlgodLqAJtQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.9~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418752&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-eight-domestic-experiences&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpBso_OZMYhbVDUeFmDweE2o0J-US3_Dxde1DlSeWe94f8BeTz7Qbs9n2D5zGEIKBq0vRkvpEiRGA&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418538541&bpp=44&bdt=1222&idt=44&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=286154659674&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418538&ga_hid=1659503957&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1208&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531607&oid=2&pvsid=1753801432990446&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=G23vU20xlX&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">While the cooking mania lasted she went through Mrs. Cornelius's Receipt Book as if it were a mathematical exercise, working out the problems with patience and care. Sometimes her family were invited in to help eat up a too bounteous feast of successes, or Lotty would be privately dispatched with a batch of failures, which were to be concealed from all eyes in the convenient stomachs of the little Hummels. An evening with John over the account books usually produced a temporary lull in the culinary enthusiasm, and a frugal fit would ensue, during which the poor man was put through a course of bread pudding, hash, and warmed-over coffee, which tried his soul, although he bore it with praiseworthy fortitude. Before the golden mean was found, however, Meg added to her domestic possessions what young couples seldom get on long without, a family jar.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Fired a with housewifely wish to see her storeroom stocked with homemade preserves, she undertook to put up her own currant jelly. John was requested to order home a dozen or so of little pots and an extra quantity of sugar, for their own currants were ripe and were to be attended to at once. As John firmly believed that `my wife' was equal to anything, and took a natural pride in her skill, he resolved that she should be gratified, and their only crop of fruit laid by in a most pleasing form for winter use. Home came four dozen delightful little pots, half a barrel of sugar, and a small boy to pick the currants for her. With her pretty hair tucked into a little cap, arms bared to the elbow, and a checked apron which had a coquettish look in spite of the bib, the young housewife fell to work, feeling no doubts about her success, for hadn't she seen Hannah do it hundreds of times? The array of pots rather amazed her at first, but John was so fond of jelly, and the nice little jars would look so well on the top shelf, that Meg resolved to fill them all, and spend a long day picking, boiling, straining, and fussing over her jelly. She did her best, she asked advice of Mrs. Cornelius, she racked her brain to remember what Hannah did that she left undone, she reboiled, resugared, and restrained, but that dreadful stuff wouldn't `jell'.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CNb65r-4p_kCFUSXlgodpwUOew" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.11~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418752&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-eight-domestic-experiences&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpBso_OZMYhbVDUeFmDweE2o0J-US3_Dxde1DlSeWe94f8BeTz7Qbs9n2D5zGEIKBq0vRkvpEiRGA&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418538628&bpp=3&bdt=1309&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=286154659674&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418538&ga_hid=1659503957&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1898&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=106&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531607&oid=2&pvsid=1753801432990446&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=1iZp7sorN6&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She longed to run home, bib and all, and ask Mother to lend her a hand, but John and she had agreed that they would never annoy anyone with their private worries, experiments, or quarrels. They had laughed over that last word as if the idea it suggested was a most preposterous one, but they had held to their resolve, and whenever they could get on without help they did so, and no one interfered, for Mrs. March had advised the plan. So Meg wrestled alone with the refractory sweetmeats all that hot summer day, and at five o'clock sat down in her topsy-turvey kitchen, wrung her bedaubed hands, lifted up her voice and wept.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Now, in the first flush of the new life, she had often said, "My husband shall always feel free to bring a friend home whenever he likes. I shall always be prepared. There shall be no flurry, no scolding, no discomfort, but a neat house, a cheerful wife, and a good dinner. John, dear, never stop to ask my leave, invite whom you please, and be sure of a welcome from me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">How charming that was, to be sure! John quite glowed with pride to hear her say it, and felt what a blessed thing it was to have a superior wife. But, although they had had company from time to time, it never happened to be unexpected, and Meg had never had an opportunity to distinguish herself till now. It always happens so in this vale of tears, there is an inevitability about such things which we can only wonder at, deplore, and bear as we best can.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">If John had not forgotten all about the jelly, it really would have been unpardonable in him to choose that day, of all the days in the year, to bring a friend home to dinner unexpectedly. Congratulating himself that a handsome repast had been ordered that morning, feeling sure that it would be ready to the minute, and indulging in pleasant anticipations of the charming effect it would produce, when his pretty wife came running out to meet him, he escorted his friend to his mansion, with the irrepressible satisfaction of a young host and husband.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="COrl3Mu4p_kCFQKblgod58sH5g" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.15~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418777&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-eight-domestic-experiences&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpBso_OZMYhbVDUeFmDweE2o0J-US3_Dxde1DlSeWe94f8BeTz7Qbs9n2D5zGEIKBq0vRkvpEiRGA&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418538651&bpp=4&bdt=1333&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=286154659674&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418538&ga_hid=1659503957&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2618&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=805&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531607&oid=2&pvsid=1753801432990446&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=d1j2LASJDr&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It is a world of disappointments, as John discovered when he reached the Dovecote. the front door usually stood hospitably open. Now it was not only shut, but locked, and yesterday's mud still adorned the steps. The parlor windows were closed and curtained, no picture of the pretty wife sewing on the piazza, in white, with a distracting little bow in her hair, or a bright-eyed hostess, smiling a shy welcome as she greeted her guest. Nothing of the sort, for not a soul appeared but a sanginary-looking boy asleep under the current bushes.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm afraid something has happened. Step into the garden, Scott, while I look up Mrs. Brooke," said John, alarmed at the silence and solitude.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Round the house he hurried, led by a pungent smell of burned sugar, and Mr. Scott strolled after him, with a queer look on his face. He paused discreetly at a distance when Brooke disappeared, but he could both see and hear, and being a bachelor, enjoyed the prospect mightily.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In the kitchen reigned confusion and despair. One edition of jelly was trickled from pot to pot, another lay upon the floor, and a third was burning gaily on the stove. Lotty, with Teutonic phlegm, was calmly eating bread and currant wine, for the jelly was still in a hopelessly liquid state, while Mrs. Brooke, with her apron over her head, sat sobbing dismally.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My dearest girl, what is the matter?" cried John, rushing in, with awful visions of scalded hands, sudden news of affliction, and secret consternation at the thought of the guest in the garden.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, John, I am so tired and hot and cross and worried! I've been at it till I'm all worn out. Do come and help me or I shall die!" And the exhausted housewife cast herself upon his breast, giving him a sweet welcome in every sense of the word, for her pinafore had been baptized at the same time as the floor.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What worries you dear? Has anything dreadful happened?" asked the anxious John, tenderly kissing the crown of the little cap, which was all askew.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes," sobbed Meg despairingly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Tell me quick, then. Don't cry. I can bear anything better than that. Out with it, love."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The...The jelly won't jell and I don't know what to do!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">John Brooke laughed then as he never dared to laugh afterward, and the derisive Scott smiled involuntarily as he heard the hearty peal, which put the finishing stroke to poor Meg's woe.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Is that all? Fling it out of the window, and don't bother any more about it. I'll buy you quarts if you want it, but for heaven's sake don't have hysterics, for I've brought Jack Scott home to dinner, and..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">John got no further, for Meg cast him off, and clasped her hands with a tragic gesture as she fell into a chair, exclaiming in a tone of mingled indignation, reproach, and dismay...</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CNfVkcy4p_kCFZiblgodf8gN0w" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.28~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418778&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-eight-domestic-experiences&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpBso_OZMYhbVDUeFmDweE2o0J-US3_Dxde1DlSeWe94f8BeTz7Qbs9n2D5zGEIKBq0vRkvpEiRGA&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418538666&bpp=3&bdt=1347&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=286154659674&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418538&ga_hid=1659503957&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3743&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=2012&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531607&oid=2&pvsid=1753801432990446&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=5JlYJeooWh&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A man to dinner, and everything in a mess! John Brooke, how could you do such a thing?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hush, he's in the garden! I forgot the confounded jelly, but it can't be helped now," said John, surveying the prospect with an anxious eye.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You ought to have sent word, or told me this morning, and you ought to have remembered how busy I was," continued Meg petulantly, for even turtledoves will peck when ruffled.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I didn't know it this morning, and there was no time to send word, for I met him on the way out. I never thought of asking leave, when you have always told me to do as I liked. I never tried it before, and hang me if I ever do again!" added John, with an aggrieved air.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I should hope not! Take him away at once. I can't see him, and there isn't any dinner."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I like that! Where's the beef and vegetables I sent home, and the pudding you promised?" cried John, rushing to the larder.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I hadn't time to cook anything. I meant to dine at Mother's. I'm sorry, but I was so busy," and Meg's tears began again.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">John was a mild man, but he was human, and after a long day's work to come home tired, hungry, and hopeful, to find a chaotic house, an empty table, and a cross wife was not exactly conductive to repose of mind or manner. He restrained himself however, and the little squall would have blown over, but for one unlucky word.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's a scrape, I acknowledge, but if you will lend a hand, we'll pull through and have a good time yet. Don't cry, dear, but just exert yourself a bit, and fix us up something to eat. We're both as hungry as hunters, so we shan't mind what it is. Give us the cold meat, and bread and cheese. We won't ask for jelly."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">He meant it to be a good-natured joke, but that one word sealed his fate. Meg thought it was too cruel to hint about her sad failure, and the last atom of patience vanished as he spoke.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You must get yourself out of the scrape as you can. I'm too used up to `exert' myself for anyone. It's like a man to propose a bone and vulgar bread and cheese for company. I won't have anything of the sort in my house. Take that Scott up to Mother's, and tell him I'm away, sick, dead, anything. I won't see him, and you two can laugh at me and my jelly as much as you like. You won't have anything else here." And having delivered her defiance all on one breath, Meg cast away her pinafore and precipitately left the field to bemoan herself in her own room.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">What those two creatures did in her absence, she never knew, but Mr. scott was not taken `up to Mother's', and when Meg descended, after they had strolled away together, she found traces of a promiscuous lunch which filled her with horror. Lotty reported that they had eaten "a much, and greatly laughed, and the master bid her throw away all the sweet stuff, and hide the pots."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CJrQv8y4p_kCFdnHlgodnTgGdA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.40~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418779&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-eight-domestic-experiences&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpBso_OZMYhbVDUeFmDweE2o0J-US3_Dxde1DlSeWe94f8BeTz7Qbs9n2D5zGEIKBq0vRkvpEiRGA&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418538681&bpp=2&bdt=1362&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=286154659674&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418538&ga_hid=1659503957&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=4883&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=3127&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531607&oid=2&pvsid=1753801432990446&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=41rbowIvsL&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg longed to go and tell Mother, but a sense of shame at her own short comings, of loyalty to John, "who might be cruel, but nobody should know it," restrained her, and after a summary cleaning up, she dressed herself prettily, and sat down to wait for John to come and be forgiven.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Unfortunately, John didn't come, not seeing the matter in that light. He had carried it off as a good joke with Scott, excused his little wife as well as he could, and played the host so hospitably that his friend enjoyed the impromptu dinner, and promised to come again, but John was angry, though he did not show it, he felt that Meg had deserted him in his hour of need. "It wasn't fair to tell a man to bring folks home any time, with perfect freedom, and when he took you at your word, to flame up and blame him, and leave him in the lurch, to be laughed at or pitied. No, by George, it wasn't! And Meg must know it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">He had fumed inwardly during the feast, but when the flurry was over and he strolled home after seeing Scott off, a milder mood came over him. "Poor little thing! It was hard upon her when she tried so heartily to please me. She was wrong, of course, but then she was young. I must be patient and teach her." He hoped she had not gone home--he hated gossip and interference. For a minute he was ruffled again at the mere thought of it, and then the fear that Meg would cry herself sick softened his heart, and sent him on at a quicker pace, resolving to be calm and kind, but firm, quite firm, and show her where she had failed in her duty to her spouse.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg likewise resolved to be `calm and kind, but firm', and show him his duty. She longed to run to meet him, and beg pardon, and be kissed and comforted, as she was sure of being, but, of course, she did nothing of the sort, and when she saw John coming, began to hum quite naturally, as she rocked and sewed, like a lady of leisure in her best parlor.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">John was a little disappointed not to find a tender Niobe, but feeling that his dignity demanded the first apology, he made none, only came leisurely in and laid himself upon the sofa with the singularly relevant remark, "We are going to have a new moon, my dear."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've no objection," was Meg's equally soothing remark. A few other topics of general interest were introduced by Mr. Brooke and wet-blanketed by Mrs. Brooke, and conversation languished. John went to one window, unfolded his paper, and wrapped himself in it, figuratively speaking. Meg went to the other window, and sewed as if new rosettes for slippers were among the necessaries of life. Neither spoke. Both looked quite `calm and firm', and both felt desperately uncomfortable.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, dear," thought Meg, "married life is very trying, and does need infinite patience as well as love, as Mother says." The word `Mother' suggested other maternal counsels given long ago, and received with unbelieving protests.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"John is a good man, but he has his faults, and you must learn to see and bear with them, remembering your own. He is very decided, but never will be obstinate, if you reason kindly, not oppose impatiently. He is very accurate, and particular about the truth--a good trait, though you call him `fussy'. Never deceive him by look or word, Meg, and he will give you the confidence you deserve, the support you need. He has a temper, not like ours--one flash and then all over--but the white, still anger that is seldom stirred, but once kindled is hard to quench. Be careful, be very careful, not to wake his anger against yourself, for peace and happiness depend on keeping his respect. Watch yourself, be the first to ask pardon if you both err, and guard against the little piques, misunderstandings, and hasty words that often pave the way for bitter sorrow and regret."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">These words came back to Meg, as she sat sewing in the sunset, especially the last. This was the first serious disagreement, her own hasty speeches sounded both silly and unkind, as she recalled them, her own anger looked childish now, and thoughts of poor John coming home to such a scene quite melted her heart. She glanced at him with tears in her eyes, but he did not see them. She put down her work and got up, thinking, "I will be the first to say,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`Forgive me', but he did not seem to hear her. She went very slowly across the room, for pride was hard to swallow, and stood by him, but he did not turn his head. For a minute she felt as if she really couldn't do it, then came the thought, This is the beginning. I'll do my part, and have nothing to reproach myself with," and stooping sown, she softly kissed her husband on the forehead. Of course that settled it. The penitent kiss was better than a world of words, and John had her on his knee in a minute, saying tenderly...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It was too bad to laugh at the poor little jelly pots. Forgive me, dear. I never will again!"</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_7_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_7_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!8" data-google-query-id="CJrW-8y4p_kCFVG4lgod8rQCHg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_7" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_7" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=544027183&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.51~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418780&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-eight-domestic-experiences&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpBso_OZMYhbVDUeFmDweE2o0J-US3_Dxde1DlSeWe94f8BeTz7Qbs9n2D5zGEIKBq0vRkvpEiRGA&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418538695&bpp=2&bdt=1376&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=7&correlator=286154659674&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418538&ga_hid=1659503957&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=6578&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=4810&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531607&oid=2&pvsid=1753801432990446&tmod=835622849&uas=1&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=8&uci=a!8&btvi=6&fsb=1&xpc=riuSdMWWMf&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">But he did, oh bless you, yes, hundreds of times, and so did Meg, both declaring that it was the sweetest jelly they ever made, for family peace was preserved in that little family jar.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">After this, Meg had Mr. Scott to dinner by special invitation, and served him up a pleasant feast without a cooked wife for the first course, on which occasion she was so gay and gracious, and made everything go off so charmingly, that Mr. Scott told John he was a lucky fellow, and shook his head over the hardships of bachelorhood all the way home.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In the autumn, new trials and experiences came to Meg. Sallie Moffat renewed her friendship, was always running out for a dish of gossip at the little house, or inviting `that poor dear' to come in and spend the day at the big house. It was pleasant, for in dull weather Meg often felt lonely. All were busy at home, John absent till night, and nothing to do but sew, or read, or potter about. So it naturally fell out that Meg got into the way of gadding and gossiping with her friend. Seeing Sallie's pretty things made her long for such, and pity herself because she had not got them. Sallie was very kind, and often offered her the coveted trifles, but Meg declined them, knowing that John wouldn't like it, and then this foolish little woman went and did what John disliked even worse.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She knew her husband's income, and she loved to feel that he trusted her, not only with his happiness, but what some men seem to value more--his money. She knew where it was, was free to take what she liked, and all he asked was that she should keep account of every penny, pay bills once a month, and remember that she was a poor man's wife. Till now she had done well, been prudent and exact, kept her little account books neatly, and showed them to him monthly without fear. But that autumn the serpent got into Meg's paradise, and tempted her like many a modern Eve, not with apples, but with dress. Meg didn't like to be pitied and made to feel poor. It irritated her, but she was ashamed to confess it, and now and then she tried to console herself by buying something pretty, so that Sallie needn't think she had to economize. She always felt wicked after it, for the pretty things were seldom necessaries, but then they cost so little, it wasn't worth worrying about, so the trifles increased unconsciously, and in the shopping excursions she was no longer a passive looker-on.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">But the trifles cost more than one would imagine, and when she cast up her accounts at the end of the month the sum total rather scared her. John was busy that month and left the bills to her, the next month he was absent, but the third he had a grand quarterly settling up, and Meg never forgot it. A few days before she had done a dreadful thing, and it weighed upon her conscience. Sallie had been buying silks, and Meg longed for a new one, just a handsome light one for parties, her black silk was so common, and thin things for evening wear were only proper for girls. Aunt March usually gave the sisters a present of twenty-five dollars apiece at New Year's. That was only a month to wait, and here was a lovely violet silk going at a bargain, and she had the money, if she only dared to take it. John always said what was his was hers, but would he think it right to spend not only the prospective five-and-twenty, but another five-and-twenty out of the household fund? That was the question. Sallie had urged her to do it, had offered to lend the money, and with the best intentions in life had tempted Meg beyond her strength. In an evil moment the shopman held up the lovely, shimmering folds, and said, "A bargain, I assure, you, ma'am." She answered, "I'll take it," and it was cut off and paid for, and Sallie had exulted, and she had laughed as if it were a thing of no consequence, and driven away, feeling as if she had stolen something, and the police were after her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When she got home, she tried to assuage the pangs of remorse by spreading forth the lovely silk, but it looked less silvery now, didn't become her, after all, and the words `fifty dollars' seemed stamped like a pattern down each breadth. She put it away, but it haunted her, not delightfully as a new dress should, but dreadfully like the ghost of a folly that was not easily laid. When John got out his books that night, Meg's heart sank, and for the first time in her married life, she was afraid of her husband. The kind, brown eyes looked as if they could be stern, and though he was unusually merry, she fancied he had found her out, but didn't mean to let her know it. The house bills were all paid, the books all in order. John had praised her, and was undoing the old pocketbook which they called the `bank', when Meg, knowing that it was quite empty, stopped his hand, saying nervously...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You haven't seen my private expense book yet."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">John never asked to see it, but she always insisted on his doing so, and used to enjoy his masculine amazement at the queer things women wanted, and made him guess what piping was, demand fiercely the meaning of a hug-me-tight, or wonder how a little thing composed of three rosebuds, a bit of velvet, and a pair of strings, could possibly be a bonnet, and cost six dollars. That night he looked as if he would like the fun of quizzing her figures and pretending to be horrified at her extravagance, as he often did, being particularly proud of his prudent wife.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The little book was brought slowly out and laid down before him. Meg got behind his chair under pretense of smoothing the wrinkles out of his tired forehead, and standing there, she said, with her panic increasing with every word . ..</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_8_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_8_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!9" data-google-query-id="CND5w824p_kCFZYhlgodNr8D2w" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_8" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_8" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=879892236&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.60~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418781&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-eight-domestic-experiences&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpBso_OZMYhbVDUeFmDweE2o0J-US3_Dxde1DlSeWe94f8BeTz7Qbs9n2D5zGEIKBq0vRkvpEiRGA&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418538709&bpp=2&bdt=1390&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=8&correlator=286154659674&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418538&ga_hid=1659503957&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=8483&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=6714&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531607&oid=2&pvsid=1753801432990446&tmod=835622849&uas=1&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=9&uci=a!9&btvi=7&fsb=1&xpc=36BeesSF4v&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"John, dear, I'm ashamed to show you my book, for I've really been dreadfully extravagant lately. I go about so much I must have things, you know, and Sallie advised my getting it, so I did, and my New Year's money will partly pay for it, but I was sorry after I had done it, for I knew you'd think it wrong in me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">John laughed, and drew her round beside him, saying goodhumoredly, "Don't go and hide. I won't beat you if you have got a pair of killing boots. I'm rather proud of my wife's feet, and don't mind if she does pay eight or nine dollars for her boots, if they are good ones."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">That had been one of her last `trifles', and John's eye had fallen on it as he spoke. "Oh, what will he say when he comes to that awful fifty dollars!" thought Meg, with a shiver.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's worse than boots, it's a silk dress," she said, with the calmness of desperation, for she wanted the worst over.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, dear, what is the `dem'd total', as Mr. Mantalini says?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">That didn't sound like John, and she knew he was looking up at her with the straightforward look that she had always been ready to meet and answer with one as frank till now. She turned the page and her head at the same time, pointing to the sum which would have been bad enough without the fifty, but which was appalling to her with that added. For a minute the room was very still, then John said slowly--but she could feel it cost him an effort to express no displeasure--. . .</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I don't know that fifty is much for a dress, with all the furbelows and notions you have to have to finish it off these days."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It isn't made or trimmed," sighed Meg, faintly, for a sudden recollection of the cost still to be incurred quite overwhelmed her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Twenty-five yards of silk seems a good deal to cover one small woman, but I've no doubt my wife will look as fine as Ned Moffat's when she gets it on," said John dryly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I know you are angry, John, but I can't help it. I don't mean to waste your money, and I didn't think those little things would count up so. I can't resist them when I see Sallie buying all she wants, and pitying me because I don't. I try to be contented, but it is hard, and I'm tired of being poor."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The last words were spoken so low she thought he did not hear them, but he did, and they wounded him deeply, for he had denied himself many pleasures for Meg's sake. She could have bitten her tongue out the minute she had said it, for John pushed the books away and got up, saying with a little quiver in his voice, "I was afraid of this. I do my best, Meg." If he had scolded her, or even shaken her, it would not have broken her heart like those few words. She ran to him and held him close, crying, with repentant tears, "Oh, John, my dear, kind, hard-working boy. I didn't mean it! It was so wicked, so untrue and ungrateful, how could I say it! Oh, how could I say it!" He was very kind, forgave her readily, and did not utter one reproach, but Meg knew that she had done and said a thing which would not be forgotten soon, although he might never allude to it again. She had promised to love him for better or worse, and then she, his wife, had reproached him with his poverty, after spending his earnings recklessly. It was dreadful, and the worst of it was John went on so quietly afterward, just as if nothing had happened, except that he stayed in town later, and worked at night when she had gone to cry herself to sleep. A week or remorse nearly made Meg sick, and the discovery that John had countermanded the order for his new greatcoat reduced her to a state of despair which was pathetic to behold. He had simply said, in answer to her surprised inquiries as to the change, "I can't afford it, my dear."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg said no more, but a few minutes after he found her in the hall with her face buried in the old greatcoat, crying as if her heart would break.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They had a long talk that night, and Meg learned to love her husband better for his poverty, because it seemed to have made a man of him, given him the strength and courage to fight his own way, and taught him a tender patience with which to bear and comfort the natural longings and failures of those he loved.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Next day she put her pride in her pocket, went to Sallie, told the truth, and asked her to buy the silk as a favor. The good- natured Mrs. Moffat willingly did so, and had the delicacy not to make her a present of it immediately afterward. Then Meg ordered home the greatcoat, and when John arrived, she put it on, and asked him how he liked her new silk gown. One can imagine what answer he made, how he received his present, and what a blissful state of things ensued. John came home early, Meg gadded no more, and that greatcoat was put on in the morning by a very happy husband, and taken off at night by a most devoted little wife. So the year rolled round, and at midsummer there came to Meg a new experience, the deepest and tenderest of a woman's life.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie came sneaking into the kitchen of the Dovecote one Saturday, with an excited face, and was received with the clash of cymbals, for Hannah clapped her hands with a saucepan in one and the cover in the other.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How's the little mamma? Where is everybody? Why didn't you tell me before I came home?" began Laurie in a loud whisper.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Happy as a queen, the dear! Every soul of `em is upstairs a worshipin'. We didn't want no hurrycanes round. Now you go into the parlor, and I'll send `em down to you," with which somewhat involved reply Hannah vanished, chuckling ecstatically.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Presently Jo appeared, proudly bearing a flannel bundle laid forth upon a large pillow. Jo's face was very sober, but her eyes twinkled, and there was an odd sound in her voice of repressed emotion of some sort.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Shut your eyes and hold out your arms," she said invitingly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie backed precipitately into a corner, and put his hands behind him with an imploring gesture. "No, thank you. I'd rather not. I shall drop it or smash it, as sure as fate."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then you shan't see your nevvy," said Jo decidedly, turning as if to go.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I will, I will! Only you must be responsible for damages." And obeying orders, Laurie heroically shut his eyes while something was put into his arms. A peal of laughter from Jo, Amy, Mrs. March, Hannah, and John caused him to open them the next minute, to find himself invested with two babies instead of one.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">No wonder they laughed, for the expression of his face was droll enough to convulse a Quaker, as he stood and stared wildly from the unconscious innocents to the hilarious spectators with such dismay that Jo sat down on the floor and screamed.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Twins, by Jupiter!" was all he said for a minute, then turning to the women with an appealing look that was comically piteous, he added, "Take `em quick, somebody! I'm going to laugh, and I shall drop `em."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo rescued his babies, and marched up and down, with one on each are, as if already initiated into the mysteries of babytending, while Laurie laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's the best joke of the season, isn't it? I wouldn't have told you, for I set my heart on surprising you, and I flatter myself I've done it," said Jo, when she got her breath.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I never was more staggered in my life. Isn't it fun? Are they boys? What are you going to name them? Let's have another look. Hold me up, Jo, for upon my life it's one too many for me," returned Laurie, regarding the infants with the air of a big, benevolent Newfoundland looking at a pair of infantile kittens.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Boy and girl. Aren't they beauties?" said the proud papa, beaming upon the little red squirmers as if they were unfledged angels.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Most remarkable children I ever saw. Which is which?" and Laurie bent like a well-sweep to examine the prodigies.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Amy put a blue ribbon on the boy and a pink on the girl, French fashion, so you can always tell. Besides, one has blue eyes and one brown. Kiss them, Uncle Teddy," said wicked Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm afraid they mightn't like it," began Laurie, with unusual timidity in such matters.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course they will, they are used to it now. Do it this minute, sir!" commanded Jo, fearing he might propose a proxy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie screwed up his face and obeyed with a gingerly peck at each little cheek that produced another laugh, and made the babies squeal.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There, I knew they didn't like it! That's the boy, see him kick, he hits out with his fists like a good one. Now then, young Brooke, pitch into a man of your own size, will you?" cried Laurie, delighted with a poke in the face from a tiny fist, flapping aimlessly about.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He's to be named John Laurence, and the girl Margaret, after mother and grandmother. We shall call her Daisey, so as not to have two Megs, and I suppose the mannie will be Jack, unless we find a better name," said Amy, with aunt-like interest.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Name him Demijohn, and call him Demi for short," said Laurie</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Daisy and Demi, just the thing! I knew Teddy would do it," cried Jo clapping her hands.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Teddy certainly had done it that time, for the babies were</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`Daisy' and `Demi' to the end of the chapter.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-20912056886051018082022-08-02T11:08:00.007+05:302022-08-02T11:08:49.516+05:30PART TWO: CHAPTER TWENTY - SEVEN - Literary Lesson - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Fortune suddenly smiled upon Jo, and dropped a good luck penny in her path. Not a golden penny, exactly, but I doubt if half a million would have given more real happiness then did the little sum that came to her in this wise.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Every few weeks she would shut herself up in her room, put on her scribbling suit, and `fall into a vortex', as she expressed it, writing away at her novel with all her heart and soul, for till that was finished she could find no peace. Her `scribbling suit' consisted of a black woolen pinafore on which she could wipe her pen at will, and a cap of the same material, adorned with a cheerful red bow, into which she bundled her hair when the decks were cleared for action. This cap was a beacon to the inquiring eyes of her family, who during these periods kept their distance, merely popping in their heads semi-occasionally to ask, with interest, "Does genius burn, Jo?" They did not always venture even to ask this question, but took an observation of the cap, and judged accordingly. If this expressive article of dress was drawn low upon the forehead, it was a sign that hard work was going on, in exciting moments it was pushed rakishly askew, and when despair seized the author it was plucked wholly off, and cast upon the floor, and cast upon the floor. At such times the intruder silently withdrew, and not until the red bow was seen gaily erect upon the gifted brow, did anyone dare address Jo.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CNOh46y4p_kCFQJrvQodxd4BtA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.9~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418712&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-seven-literary-lesson&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpCe29TDcjTiI6YWo5Q7G5h0b5xP9OJTDZFy0FeQEegtC5a_Q04lV8YopdG5SyJCgOKhcY5YGv-ej&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418537184&bpp=2&bdt=1014&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=6236783167934&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418537&ga_hid=413094426&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=998&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531605&oid=2&pvsid=4320975038006546&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=x1vA2LzTtB&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She did not think herself a genius by any means, but when the writing fit came on, she gave herself up to it with entire abandon, and led a blissful life, unconscious of want, care, or bad weather, while she sat safe and happy in an imaginary world, full of friends almost as real and dear to her as any in the flesh. Sleep forsook her eyes, meals stood untasted, day and night were all too short to enjoy the happiness which blessed her only at such times, and made these hours worth living, even if they bore no other fruit. The devine afflatus usually lasted a week or two, and then she emerged from her `vortex', hungry, sleepy, cross, or despondent.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She was just recovering from one of these attacks when she was prevailed upon to escort Miss Crocker to a lecture, and in return for her virtue was rewarded with a new idea. It was a People's Course, the lecture on the Pyramids, and Jo rather wondered at the choice of such a subject for such an audience, but took it for granted that some great social evil would be remedied or some great want supplied by unfolding the glories of the Pharaohs to an audience whose thoughts were busy with the price of coal and flour, and whose lives were spent in trying to solve harder riddles than that of the Sphinx.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They were early, and while Miss Crocker set the heel of her stocking, Jo amused herself by examining the faces of the people who occupied the seat with them. On her left were two matrons, with massive foreheads and bonnets to match, discussing Women's Rights and making tatting. Beyond sat a pair of humble lovers, artlessly holding each other by the hand, a somber spinster eating peppermints out of a paper bag, and an old gentleman taking his preparatory nap behind a yellow bandanna. On her right, her only neighbor was a studious looking lad absorbed in a newspaper.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CKeg-6y4p_kCFQ4_vQodiDUOpQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.12~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418713&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-seven-literary-lesson&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpCe29TDcjTiI6YWo5Q7G5h0b5xP9OJTDZFy0FeQEegtC5a_Q04lV8YopdG5SyJCgOKhcY5YGv-ej&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418537194&bpp=3&bdt=1024&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=6236783167934&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418537&ga_hid=413094426&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1613&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=41&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531605&oid=2&pvsid=4320975038006546&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=6a4KN6U4ON&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It was a pictorial sheet, and Jo examined the work of art nearest her, idly wondering what fortuitous concatenation of circumstances needed the melodramatic illustration of an Indian in full war costume, tumbling over a precipice with a wolf at his throat, while two infuriated young gentlemen, with unnaturally small feet and big eyes, were stabbing each other close by, and a disheveled female was flying away in the background with her mouth wide open. Pausing to turn a page, the lad saw her looking and, with boyish good nature offered half his paper, saying bluntly, "want to read it? That's a first-rate story."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo accepted it with a smile, for she had never outgrown her liking for lads, and soon found herself involved in the usual labyrinth of love, mystery, and murder, for the story belonged to that class of light literature in which the passions have a holiday, and when the author's invention fails, a grand catastrophe clears the stage of one half the dramatis personae, leaving the other half to exult over their downfall.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Prime, isn't it?" asked the boy, as her eye went down the last paragraph of her portion.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I think you and I could do as well as that if we tried," returned Jo, amused at his admiration of the trash.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I should think I was a pretty lucky chap if I could. She makes a good living out of such stories, they say." And he pointed to the name of Mrs. S.L.A.N.G. Northbury, under the title of the tale.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you know her?" asked Jo, with sudden interest.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, but I read all her pieces, and I know a fellow who works in the office where this paper is printed." "Do you say she makes a good living out of stories like this?" And Jo looked more respectfully at the agitated group and thickly sprinkled exclamation points that adorned the page.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Guess she does! She knows just what folks like, and gets paid well for writing it."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="CNTfwLq4p_kCFQxHvQodwswJbg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.20~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418741&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-seven-literary-lesson&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpCe29TDcjTiI6YWo5Q7G5h0b5xP9OJTDZFy0FeQEegtC5a_Q04lV8YopdG5SyJCgOKhcY5YGv-ej&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418537211&bpp=4&bdt=1040&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=6236783167934&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418537&ga_hid=413094426&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2303&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=492&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531605&oid=2&pvsid=4320975038006546&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=WCfHJaaz1s&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Here the lecture began, but Jo heard very little of it, for while Professor Sands was prosing away about Belzoni, Cheops, scarabei, and hieroglyphics, she was covertly taking down the address of the paper, and boldly resolving to try for the hundred-dollar prize offered in its columns for a sensational story. By the time the lecture ended and the audience awoke, she had built up a splendid fortune for herself</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">(not the first founded on paper), and was already deep in the concoction of her story, being unable to decide whether the duel should come before the elopement or after the murder.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">she said nothing of her plan at home, but fell to work next day, much to the disquiet of her mother, who always looked a little anxious when `genius took to burning'. Jo had never tried this style before, contenting herself with very mild romances for THE SPREAD EAGLE. Her experience and miscellaneous reading were of service now, for they gave her some idea of dramatic effect, and supplied plot, language, and costumes. Her story was as full of desperation and despair as her limited acquaintance with those uncomfortable emotions enabled her to make it, and having located it in Lisbon, she wound up with an earthquake, as a striking and appropriate denouement. The manuscript was privately dispatched, accompanied by a note, modestly saying that if the tale didn't get the prize, which the writer hardly dared expect, she would be very glad to receive any sum it might be considered worth.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Six weeks is a long time to wait, and a still longer time for a girl to keep a secret, but Jo did both, and was just beginning to give up all hope of ever seeing her manuscript again, when a letter arrived which almost took her breath away, for on opening it, a check for a hundred dollars fell into her lap. For a minute she stared at it as if it had been a snake, then she read her letter and began to cry. If the amiable gentleman who wrote that kindly note could have known what intense happiness he was giving a fellow creature, I think he would devote his leisure hours, if he has any, to that amusement, for Jo valued the letter more than the money, because it was encouraging, and after years of effort it was so pleasant to find that she had learned to do something, though it was only to write a sensation story.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A prouder young woman was seldom seen than she, when, having composed herself, she electrified the family by appearing before them with the letter in one hand, the check in the other, announcing that she had won the prize. Of course there was a great jubilee, and when the story came everyone read and praised it, though after her father had told her that the language was good, the romance fresh and hearty, and the tragedy quite thrilling, he shook his head, and said in his unworldly way...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You can do better than this, Jo. Aim at the highest, and never mind the money."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I think the money is the best part of it. What will you do with such a fortune?" asked Amy, regarding the magic slip of paper with a reverential eye.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Send Beth and Mother to the seaside for a month or two," answered Jo promptly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To the seaside they went, after much discussion, and though Beth didn't come home as plump and rosy as could be desired, she was much better, while Mrs. March declared she felt ten years younger. So Jo was satisfied with the investment of her prize money, and fell to work with a cheery spirit, bent on earning more of those delightful checks. She did earn several that year, and began to feel herself a power in the house, for by the magic of a pen, her `rubbish' turned into comforts for them all. The Duke's Daughter paid the butcher's bill, A Phantom Hand put down a new carpet, and the Curse of the Coventrys proved the blessing of the Marches in the way of groceries and gowns.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CIza87q4p_kCFSuG6QUd3HQP2w" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.29~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418742&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-seven-literary-lesson&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpCe29TDcjTiI6YWo5Q7G5h0b5xP9OJTDZFy0FeQEegtC5a_Q04lV8YopdG5SyJCgOKhcY5YGv-ej&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418537272&bpp=4&bdt=1102&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=6236783167934&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418537&ga_hid=413094426&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3608&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=1834&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531605&oid=2&pvsid=4320975038006546&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=k9237vBhRf&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Wealth is certainly a most desirable thing, but poverty has its sunny side, and one of the sweet uses of adversity is the genuine satisfaction which comes from hearty work of head or hand, and to the inspiration of necessity, we owe half the wise, beautiful, and useful blessings of the world. Jo enjoyed a taste of this satisfaction, and ceased to envy richer girls, taking great comfort in the knowledge that she could supply her own wants, and need ask no one for a penny.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Little notice was taken of her stories, but they found a market, and encouraged by this fact, she resolved to make a bold stroke for fame and fortune. Having copied her novel for the fourth time, read it to all her confidential friends, and submitted it with fear and trembling to three publishers, she at last disposed of it, on condition that she would cut it down one third, and omit all the parts which she particularly admired.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now I must either bundle it back in to my tin kitchen to mold, pay for printing it myself, or chop it up to suit purchasers and get what I can for it. Fame is a very good thing to have in the house, but cash is more convenient, so I wish to take the sense of the meeting on this important subject," said Jo, calling a family council.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't spoil your book, my girl, for there is more in it than you know, and the idea is well worked out. Let it wait and ripen," was her father's advice, and he practiced what he preached, having waited patiently thirty years for fruit of his own to ripen, and being in no haste to gather it even now when it was sweet and mellow.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It seems to me that Jo will profit more by taking the trial than by waiting," said Mrs. March. "Criticism is the best test of such work, for it will show her both unsuspected merits and faults, and help her to do better next time. We are too partial, but the praise and blame of outsiders will prove useful, even if she gets but little money."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes," said Jo, knitting her brows, "that's just it. I've been fussing over the thing so long, I really don't know whether it's good, bad, or indifferent. It will be a great help to have cool, impartial persons take a look at it, and tell me what they think of it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wouldn't leave a word out of it. You'll spoil it if you do, for the interest of the story is more in the minds than in the actions of the people, and it will be all a muddle if you don't explain as you go on," said Meg, who firmly believed that this book was the most remarkable novel ever written.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"But Mr. Allen says, `Leave out the explanations, make it brief and dramatic, and let the characters tell the story'," interrupted Jo, turning to the publisher's note.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do as he tells you. He knows what will sale, and we don't. Make a good, popular book, and get as much money as you can. By-and-by, when you've got a name, you can afford to digress, and have philosophical and metaphysical people in your novels," said Amy, who took a strictly practical view of the subject.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well," said Jo, laughing, "if my people are `philosophical and metaphysical', it isn't my fault, for I know nothing about such things, except what I hear father say;, sometimes. If I've got some of his wise ideas jumbled up with my romance, so much the better for me. Now, Beth, what do you say?"</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CODeyLu4p_kCFQcXvQodbXEE4A" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.39~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418743&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-seven-literary-lesson&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpCe29TDcjTiI6YWo5Q7G5h0b5xP9OJTDZFy0FeQEegtC5a_Q04lV8YopdG5SyJCgOKhcY5YGv-ej&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418537345&bpp=7&bdt=1175&idt=7&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=6236783167934&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418537&ga_hid=413094426&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=4808&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=3025&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531605&oid=2&pvsid=4320975038006546&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=gSbhOPf76T&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I should so like to see it printed soon," was all Beth said, and smiled in saying it. But there was an unconscious emphasis on the last word, and a wistful look in the eyes that never lost their childlike candor, which chilled Jo's heart for a minute with a forboding fear, and decided her to make her little venture `soon'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">So, with Spartan firmness, the young authoress laid her first-born on her table, and chopped it up as ruthlessly as any ogre. In the hope of pleasing everyone, she took everyone's advice, and like the old man and his donkey in the fable suited nobody.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Her father liked the metaphysical streak which had unconsciously got into it, so that was allowed to remain though she had her doubts about it. Her mother thought that there was a trifle too much description. Out, therefore it came, and with it many necessary links in the story. Meg admired the tragedy, so Jo piled up the agony to suit her, while Amy objected to the fun, and, with the best intentions in life, Jo quenched the spritly scenes which relieved the somber character of the story. Then, to complicate the ruin, she cut it down one third, and confidingly sent the poor little romance, like a picked robin, out into the big, busy world to try its fate.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Well, it was printed, and she got three hundred dollars for it, likewise plenty of praise and blame, both so much greater than she expected that she was thrown into a state of bewilderment from which it took her some time to recover.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You said, Mother, that criticism would help me. But how can it, when it's so contradictory that I don't know whether I've written a promising book or broken all the ten commandments?" cried poor Jo, turning over a heap of notices, the perusal of which filled her with pride and joy one minute, wrath and dismay the next. "This man says, `An exquisite book, full of truth, beauty, and earnestness.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">All is sweet, pure, and healthy.'" continued the perplexed authoress. "The next, `The theory of the book is bad, full of morbid fancies, spiritualistic ideas, and unnatural characters.' Now, as I had no theory of any kind, don't believe in Spiritualism, and copied my characters from life, I don't see how this critic can be right. Another says, `It's one of the best American novels which has appeared for years.' (I know better than that), and the next asserts that `Though it is original, and written with great force and feeling, it is a dangerous book.' 'Tisn't! Some make fun of it, some overpraise, and nearly all insist that I had a deep theory to expound, when I only wrote it for the pleasure and the money. I wish I'd printed the whole or not at all, for I do hate to be so misjudged."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Her family and friends administered comfort and commendation liberally. Yet it was a hard time for sensitive, high-spirited Jo, who meant so well and had apparently done so ill. But it did her good, for those whose opinion had real value gave her the critism which is an author's best education, and when the first soreness was over, she could laugh at her poor little book, yet believe in it still, and feel herself the wiser and stronger for the buffeting she had received.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not being a genius, like Keats, it won't kill me," she said stoutly, "and I've got the joke on my side, after all, for the parts that were taken straight out of real life are denounced as impossible and absurd, and the scenes that I made up out of my own silly head are pronounced `charmingly natural, tender, and true'. So I'll comfort myself with that, and when I'm ready, I'll up again and take another."</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-63943166446839010112022-08-02T11:08:00.001+05:302022-08-02T11:08:11.999+05:30PART TWO: CHAPTER TWENTY - SIX - Artistic Attempts - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">It takes people a long time to learn the difference between talent and genius, especially ambitious young men and women. Amy was learning this distinction through much tribulation, for mistaking enthusiasm for inspiration, she attempted every branch of art with youthful audacity. For a long time there was a lull in the `mud-pie' business, and she devoted herself to the finest pen-and-ink drawing, in which she showed such taste and skill that her graceful handiwork proved both pleasant and profitable. But over-strained eyes caused pen and ink to be laid aside for a bold attempt at poker sketching.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">While this attack lasted, the family lived in constant fear of a conflagration, for the odor of burning wood pervaded the house at all hours, smoke issued from attic and shed with alarming frequency, red-hot pokers lay about promiscuously, and Hannah never went to bed without a pail of water and the dinner bell at her door in case of fire. Raphael's face was found boldly executed on the underside of the moulding board, and Bacchus on the head of a beer barrel. A chanting cherub adorned the cover of the sugar bucket, and attempts to portray Romeo and Juliet supplied kindling for some time.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CI64_5q4p_kCFdFuiwodrEYJng" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.9~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418675&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-six-artistic-attempts&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpJn93Avza1opVDRf3C3_cguBKhuawBYdfGP3OY7pL20cKtfieQVcgZ7cPF2ZyHXWQr09FcHbgnvU&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418536543&bpp=4&bdt=1335&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=8082813968309&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418536&ga_hid=1437023363&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=998&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44766067&oid=2&pvsid=2726061333066942&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=fuO0ZzwObM&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">From fire to oil was a natural transition for burned fingers, and Amy fell to painting with undiminished ardor. An artist friend fitted her out with his castoff palettes, brushes, and colors, and she daubed away, producing pastoral and marine views such as were never seen on land or sea. Her monstrosities in the way of cattle would have taken prizes at an agricultural fair, and the perilous pitching of her vessels would have produced seasickness in the most nautical observer, if the utter disregard to all known rules of shipbuilding and rigging had not convulsed him with laughter at the first glance. Swarthy boys and dark-eyed Madonnas, staring at you from one corner of the studio, suggested Murillo. Oily brown shadows of faces with a lurid streak in the wrong place, meant Rembrandt. Buxom ladies and dropiscal infants, Rubens, and Turner appeared in tempests of blue thunder, orange lightning, brown rain, and purple clouds, with a tomato-colored splash in the middle, which might be the sun or a bouy, a sailor's shirt or a king's robe, as the spectator pleased.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Charcoal portraits came next, and the entire family hung in a row, looking as wild and crocky as if just evoked from a coalbin. Softened into crayon sketches, they did better, for the likenesses were good, and Amy's hair, Jo's nose, Meg's mouth, and Laurie's eyes were pronounced `wonderfully fine'. A return to clay and plaster followed, and ghostly casts of her acquaintances haunted corners of the house, or tumbled off closet shelves onto people's heads. Children were enticed in as models, till their incoherent accounts of her mysterious doings caused Miss Amy to be regarded in the light of a young ogress. Her efforts in this line, however, were brought to an abrupt close by an untoward accident, which quenched her ardor. Other models failing her for a time, she undertook to cast her own pretty foot, and the family were one day alarmed by an unearthly bumping and screaming and running to the rescue, found the young enthusiast hopping wildly about the shed with her foot held fast in a pan full of plaster, which had hardened with unexpected rapidity. With much difficulty and some danger she was dug out, for Jo was so overcome with laughter while she excavated that her knife went too far, cut the poor foot, and left a lasting memorial of one artistic attempt, at least.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CIjRl5u4p_kCFRgjYAod1NECag" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.11~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418675&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-six-artistic-attempts&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpJn93Avza1opVDRf3C3_cguBKhuawBYdfGP3OY7pL20cKtfieQVcgZ7cPF2ZyHXWQr09FcHbgnvU&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418536569&bpp=4&bdt=1360&idt=5&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=8082813968309&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418536&ga_hid=1437023363&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1748&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44766067&oid=2&pvsid=2726061333066942&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=UCpTiFbI0i&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">After this Amy subsided, till a mania for sketching from nature set her to haunting river, field, and wood, for picturesque studies, and sighing for ruins to copy. She caught endless colds sitting on damp grass to book `delicious bit', composed of a stone, a stump, one mushroom, and a broken mullein stalk, or `a heavenly mass of clouds', that looked like a choice display of featherbeds when done. She sacrificed her complexion floating on the river in the midsummer sun to study light and shade, and got a wrinkle over her nose trying after</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`points of sight', or whatever the squint-and-string performance is called.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">If `genius is eternal patience', as Michelangelo affirms, Amy had some claim to the divine attribute, for she persevered in spite of all obstacles, failures, and discouragements, firmly believing that in time she should do something worthy to be called `high art'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She was learning, doing, and enjoying other things, meanwhile, for she had resolved to be an attractive and accomplished woman, even if she never became a great artist. Here she succeeded better, for she was one of those happily created beings who please without effort, make friends everywhere, and take life so gracefully and easily that less fortunate souls are tempted to believe that such are born under a lucky star. Everybody liked her, for among her good gifts was tact. She had an instinctive sense of what was pleasing and proper, always said the right thing to the right person, did just what suited the time and place, and was so self-possessed that her sisters used to say, "If Amy went to court without any rehearsal beforehand, she'd know exactly what to do."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="CKGr6qa4p_kCFVhKYAodzWkN6w" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.15~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418700&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-six-artistic-attempts&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpJn93Avza1opVDRf3C3_cguBKhuawBYdfGP3OY7pL20cKtfieQVcgZ7cPF2ZyHXWQr09FcHbgnvU&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418536594&bpp=5&bdt=1386&idt=5&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=8082813968309&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418536&ga_hid=1437023363&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2348&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=559&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44766067&oid=2&pvsid=2726061333066942&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=xTchthuOh8&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">One of her weaknesses was a desire to move in `our best society', without being quite sure what the best really was. Money, position, fashionable accomplishments, and elegant manners were most desirable things in her eyes, and she liked to associate with those who possessed them, often mistaking the false for the true, and admiring what was not admirable. Never forgetting that by birth she was a gentlewoman, she cultivated her aristocratic tastes and feelings, so that when the opportunity came she might be ready to take the place from which poverty now excluded her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My lady," as her friends called her, sincerely desired to be a genuine lady, and was so at heart, but had yet to learn that money cannot buy refinement of nature, that rank does not always confer nobility, and that true breeding makes itself felt in spite of external drawbacks.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I want to ask a favor of you, Mamma," Amy said, coming in with an important air one day.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, little girl, what is it?" replied her mother, in whose eyes the stately young lady still remained `the baby'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Our drawing class breaks up next week, and before the girls separate for the summer, I want to ask them out here for a day. They are wild to see the river, sketch the broken bridge, and copy some of the things they admire in my book. They have been very kind to me in many ways, and I am grateful, for they are all rich and I know I am poor, yet they never made any difference."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why should they?" And Mrs. March put the question with what the girls called her `Maria Theresa air'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You know as well as I that it does make a difference with nearly everyone, so don't ruffle up like a dear, motherly hen, when your chickens get pecked by smarter birds. The ugly duckling turned out a swan, you know." And Amy smiled without bitterness, for she possessed a happy temper and hopeful spirit.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March laughed, and smoothed down her maternal pride as she asked, "Well, my swan, what is your plan?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I should like to ask the girls out to lunch next week, to take them for a drive to the places they want to see, a row on the river, perhaps, and make a little artistic fete for them."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That looks feasible. What do you want for lunch? Cake, sandwiches, fruit, and coffee will be all that is necessary, I suppose?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, dear, no! We must have cold tongue and chicken, French chocolate and ice cream, besides. The girls are used to such things, and I want my lunch to be proper and elegant, though I do work for my living."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How many young ladies are there?" asked her mother, beginning to look sober.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Twelve or fourteen in the class, but I dare say they won't all come."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bless me, child, you will have to charter an omnibus to carry them about."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CN_gpqe4p_kCFQGGwgodwTQLLw" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.29~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418701&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-six-artistic-attempts&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpJn93Avza1opVDRf3C3_cguBKhuawBYdfGP3OY7pL20cKtfieQVcgZ7cPF2ZyHXWQr09FcHbgnvU&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418536641&bpp=18&bdt=1432&idt=18&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=8082813968309&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418536&ga_hid=1437023363&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3488&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=1690&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44766067&oid=2&pvsid=2726061333066942&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=9IjYdySxtT&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why, Mother, how can you think of such a thing? Not more than six or eight will probably come, so I shall hire a beach wagon and borrow Mr. Laurence's cherry-bounce." (Hannah's pronunciation of charabanc.)</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"All of this will be expensive, Amy."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not very. I've calculated the cost, and I'll pay for it myself."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't you think, dear, that as these girls are used to such things, and the best we can do will be nothing new, that some simpler plan would be pleasanter to them, as a change if nothing more, and much better for us than buying or borrowing what we don't need, and attempting a style not in keeping with our circumstances?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If I can't have it as I like, I don't care to have it at all. I know that I can carry it out perfectly well, if you and the girls will help a little, and I don't see why I can't if I'm willing to pay for it," said Amy, with the decision which opposition was apt to change into obstinacy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March knew that experience was an excellent teacher, and when it was possible she left her children to learn alone the lessons which she would gladly have made easier, if they had not objected to taking advice as much as they did salts and senna.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Very well, Amy, if your heart is set upon it, and you see your way through without too great an outlay of money, time, and temper, I'll say no more. Talk it over with the girls, and whichever way you decide, I'll do my best to help you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Thanks, Mother, you are always so kind." And away went Amy to lay her plan before her sisters. Meg agreed at once, and promised to her aid, gladly offering anything she possessed, from her little house itself to her very best saltspoons. But Jo frowned upon the whole project and would have nothing to do with it at first.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why in the world should you spend your money, worry your family, and turn the house upside down for a parcel of girls who don't care a sixpence for you? I thought you had too much pride and sense to truckle to any mortal woman just because she wears French boots and rides in a coupe," said Jo, who, being called from the tragic climax of her novel, was not in the best mood for social enterprises.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't truckle, and I hate being patronized as much as you do!" returned Amy indignantly, for the two still jangled when such questions arose. "The girls do care for me, and I for them, and there's a great deal of kindness and sense and talent among them, in spite of what you call fashionable nonsense. You don't care to make people like you, to go into good society, and cultivate your manners and tastes. I do, and I mean to make the most of every chance that comes. You can go through the world with your elbows out and your nose in the air, and call it independence, if you like. That's not my way."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When Amy had whetted her tongue and freed her mind she usually got the best of it, for she seldom failed to have common sense on her side, while Jo carried her love of liberty and hate of conventionalities to such an unlimited extent that she naturally found herself worsted in an argument. Amy's definition of Jo's idea of independence was such a good hit that both burst out laughing, and the discussion took a more amiable turn. Much against her will, Jo at length consented to sacrifice a day to Mrs. Grundy, and help her sister through what she regarded as `a nonsensical business'.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CMO5zKe4p_kCFRKSwgoddUQCvA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.40~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418701&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-six-artistic-attempts&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpJn93Avza1opVDRf3C3_cguBKhuawBYdfGP3OY7pL20cKtfieQVcgZ7cPF2ZyHXWQr09FcHbgnvU&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418536701&bpp=5&bdt=1493&idt=6&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=8082813968309&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418536&ga_hid=1437023363&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=4763&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=3035&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44766067&oid=2&pvsid=2726061333066942&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=TSk5voRxyK&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The invitations were sent, nearly all accepted, and the following Monday was set apart for the grand event. Hannah was out of humor because her week's work was deranged, and prophesied that "ef the washin' and ironin' warn't done reg'lar, nothin' would go well anywheres". This hitch in the mainspring of the domestic machinery had a bad effect upon the whole concern, but Amy's motto was `Nil desperandum', and having made up her mind what to do, she proceeded to do it in spite of all obstacles. To begin with, Hannah's cooking didn't turn out well. The chicken was tough, the tongue too salt, and the chocolate wouldn't froth properly. Then the cake and ice cost more than Amy expected, so did the wagon, and various other expenses, which seemed trifling at the outset, counted up rather alarmingly afterward. Beth got a cold and took to her bed. Meg had an unusual number of callers to keep her at home, and Jo was in such a divided state of mind that her breakages, accidents, and mistakes were uncommonly numerous, serious, and trying.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It it was not fair on Monday, the young ladies were to come on Tuesday, and arrangement which aggravated Jo and Hannah to the last degree. On Monday morning the weather was in that undecided state which is more exasperating than a steady pour. It drizzled a little, shone a little, blew a little, and didn't make up its mind till it was too late for anyone else to make up theirs. Amy was up at dawn, hustling people out of their beds and through their breakfasts, that the house might be got in order. The parlor struck her as looking uncommonly shabby, but without stopping to sigh for what she had not, she skillfully made the best of what she had, arranging chairs over the worn places in the carpet, covering stains on the walls with homemade statuary, which gave an artistic air to the room, as did the lovely vases of flowers Jo scattered about.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The lunch looked charming, and as she surveyed it, she sincerely hoped it would taste well, and that the borrowed glass, china, and silver would get safely home again. The carriages were promised, Meg and Mother were all ready to do the honors, Beth was able to help Hannah behind the scenes, Jo had engaged to be as lively and amiable as an absent mind, and aching head, and a very decided disapproval of everybody and everything would allow, and as she wearily dressed, Amy cheered herself with anticipations of the happy moment when, lunch safely over, she should drive away with her friends for an afternoon of artistic delights, for the `cherry bounce' and the broken bridge were her strong points.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Then came the hours of suspense, during which she vibrated from parlor to porch, while public opinion varied like the weathercock. A smart shower at eleven had evidently quenched the enthusiasm of the young ladies who were to arrive at twelve, for nobody came, and at two the exhausted family sat down in a blaze of sunshine to consume the perishable portions of the feast, that nothing might be lost.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No doubt about the weather today, they will certainly come, so we must fly round and be ready for them," said Amy, as the sun woke her next morning. She spoke briskly, but in her secret soul she wished she had said nothing about Tuesday, for her interest like her cake was getting a little stale.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I can't get any lobsters, so you will have to do without salad today," said Mr. March, coming in half an hour later, with an expression of placid despair.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Use the chicken then, the toughness won't matter in a salad," advised his wife.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hannah left it on the kitchen table a minute, and the kittens got at it. I'm very sorry, amy," added Beth, who was still a patroness of cats.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then I must have a lobster, for tongue alone won't do," said Amy decidedly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Shall I rush into town and demand one?" asked Jo, with the magnanimity of a martyr.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'd come bringing it home under your arm without any paper, just to try me. I'll go myself," answered Amy, whose temper was beginning to fail.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Shrouded in a thick veil and armed with a genteel traveling basket, she departed, feeling that a cool drive would soothe her ruffled spirit and fit her for the labors of the day. After some delay, the object of her desire was procured, likewise a bottle of dressing to prevent further loss of time at home, and off she drove again, well pleased with her own forethought.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As the omnibus contained only one other passenger, a sleepy old lady, Amy pocketed her veil and beguiled the tedium of the way by trying to find out where all her money had gone to. So busy was she with her card full of refractory figures that she did not observe a newcomer, who entered without stopping the vehicle, till a masculine voice said, "Good morning, Miss March," and, looking up, she beheld one of Laurie's most elegant college friends. Fervently hoping that he would get out before she did, Amy utterly ignored the basket at her feet, and congratulating herself that she had on her new traveling dress, returned the young man's greeting with her usual suavity and spirit.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_7_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_7_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!8" data-google-query-id="CObMkqi4p_kCFYZJYAodVLgFKA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_7" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_7" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=544027183&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.53~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418703&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-six-artistic-attempts&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpJn93Avza1opVDRf3C3_cguBKhuawBYdfGP3OY7pL20cKtfieQVcgZ7cPF2ZyHXWQr09FcHbgnvU&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418536737&bpp=2&bdt=1529&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=7&correlator=8082813968309&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418536&ga_hid=1437023363&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=6578&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=4814&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C44766067&oid=2&pvsid=2726061333066942&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=8&uci=a!8&btvi=6&fsb=1&xpc=gnoVWG6vcz&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They got on excellently, for Amy's chief care was soon set at rest by learning that the gentleman would leave first, and she was chatting away in a peculiarly lofty strain, when the old lady got out. In stumbling to the door, she upset the basket, and--oh horror!--the lobster, in all its vulgar size and brilliancy, was revealed to the highborn eyes of a Tudor.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"By Jove, she's forgotten her dinner!" cried the unconscious youth, poking the scarlet monster into its place with his cane, and preparing to hand out the basket after the old lady.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Please don't--it's--it's mine," murmured Amy, with a face nearly as red as her fish.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, really, I beg pardon. It's an uncommonly fine one, isn't it?" said Tudor, with great presence of mind, and an air of sober interest that did credit to his breeding.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy recovered herself in a breath, set her basket boldly on the seat, and said, laughing, "Don't you wish you were to have some of the salad he's going to make, and to see the charming young ladies who are to eat it?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Now that was tact, for two of the ruling foibles of the masculine mind were touched. The lobster was instantly surrounded by a halo of pleasing reminiscences, and curiosity about `the charming young ladies' diverted his mind from the comical mishap.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I suppose he'll laugh and joke over it with Laurie, but I shan't see them, that's a comfort," thought Amy, as Tudor bowed and departed.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She did not mention this meeting at home (though she discovered that, thanks to the upset, her new dress was much damaged by the rivulets of dressing that meandered down the skirt), but went through with the preparations which now seemed more irksome than before, and at twelve o'clock all was ready again. feeling that the neighbors were interested in her movements, she wished to efface the memory of yesterday's failure by a grand success today, so she ordered the</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`cherry bounce', and drove away in state to meet and escort her guests to the banquet.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There's the rumble, they're coming! I'll go onto the porch and meet them. It looks hospitable, and I want the poor child to have a good time after all her trouble," said Mrs. March, suiting the action to the word. But after one glance, she retired, with an indescribable expression, for looking quite lost in the big carriage, sat Amy and one young lady.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Run, Beth, and help Hannah clear half the things off the table. It will be too absurd to put a luncheon for twelve before a single girl," cried Jo, hurrying away to the lower regions, too excited to stop even for a laugh.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In came Amy, quite calm and delightfully cordial to the one guest who had kept her promise. The rest of the family, being of a dramatic turn, played their parts equally well, and Miss Eliott found them a most hilarious set, for it was impossible to control entirely the merriment which possessed them. The remodeled lunch being gaily partaken of, the studio and garden visited, and art discussed with enthusiasm, Amy ordered a buggy (alas for the elegant cherry-bounce), and drove her friend quietly about the neighborhood till sunset, when `the party went out'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As she came walking in, looking very tired but as composed as ever, she observed that every vestige of the unfortunate fete had disappeared, except a suspicious pucker about the corners of Jo's mouth.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You've had a loverly afternoon for your drive, dear," said her mother, as respectfully as if the whole twelve had come.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Miss Eliott is a very sweet girl, and seemed to enjoy herself, I thought," observed Beth, with unusual warmth.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Could you spare me some of your cake? I really need some, I have so much company, and I can't make such delicious stuff as yours," asked Meg soberly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Take it all. I'm the only one here who likes sweet things, and it will mold before I can dispose of it," answered Amy, thinking with a sigh of the generous store she had laid in for such an end as this.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's a pity Laurie isn't here to help us," began Jo, as they sat down to ice cream and salad for the second time in two days.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A warning look from her mother checked any further remarks, and the whole family ate in heroic silence, till Mr. March mildly observed, "salad was one of the favorite dishes of the ancients, and Evelyn..." Here a general explosion of laughter cut short the `history of salads', to the great surprise of the learned gentleman.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bundle everything into a basket and send it to the Hummels. Germans like messes. I'm sick of the sight of this, and there's no reason you should all die of a surfeit because I've been a fool," cried Amy, wiping her eyes.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I thought I should have died when I saw you two girls rattling about in the what-you-call-it, like two little kernels in a very big nutshell, and Mother waiting in state to receive the throng," sighed Jo, quite spent with laughter.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm very sorry you were disappointed, dear, but we all did our best to satisfy you," said Mrs. March, in a tone full of motherly regret.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I am satisfied. I've done what I undertook, and it's not my fault that it failed. I comfort myself with that," said Amy with a little quiver in her voice. "I thank you all very much for helping me, and I'll thank you still more if you won't allude to it for a month, at least."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">No one did for several months, but the word `fete' always produced a general smile, and Laurie's birthday gift to Amy was a tiny coral lobster in the shape of a charm for her watch guard.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-76409524147740823692022-08-02T11:07:00.006+05:302022-08-02T11:07:32.987+05:30PART TWO: CHAPTER TWENTY - FIVE - The First Wedding - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">The June roses over the porch were awake bright and early on that morning, rejoicing with all their hearts in the cloudless sunshine, like friendly little neighbors, as they were. Quite flushed with excitement were their ruddy faces, as they swung in the wind, whispering to one another what they had seen, for some peeped in at the dining room windows where the feast was spread, some climbed up to nod and smile at the sisters as they dressed the bride, others waved a welcome to those who came and went on various errands in garden, porch, and hall, and all, from the rosiest full-blown flower to the palest baby bud, offered their tribute of beauty and fragrance to the gentle mistress who had loved and tended them so long.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg looked very like a rose herself, for all that was best and sweetest in heart and soul seemed to bloom into her face that day, making it fair and tender, with a charm more beautiful than beauty. Neither silk, lace, nor orange flowers would she have. "I don't want a fashionable wedding, but only those about me whom I love, and to them I wish to look and be my familiar self."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">So she made her wedding gown herself, sewing into it the tender hopes and innocent romances of a girlish heart. her sisters braided up her pretty hair, and the only ornaments she wore were the lilies of the valley, which `her John' liked best of all the flowers that grew.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You do look just like our own dear Meg, only so very sweet and lovely that I should hug you if it wouldn't crumple your dress," cried Amy, surveying her with delight when all was done.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then I am satisfied. But please hug and kiss me, everyone, and don't mind my dress. I want a great many crumples of this sort put into it today." And Meg opened her arms to her sisters, who clung about her with April faces for a minute, feeling that the new love had not changed the old.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now I'm going to tie John's cravat for him, and then to stay a few minutes with Father quietly in the study." And Meg ran down to perform these little ceremonies, and then to follow her mother wherever she went, conscious that in spite of the smiles on the motherly face, there was a secret sorrow hid in the motherly heart at the flight of the first bird from the nest.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As the younger girls stand together, giving the last touches to their simple toilet, it may be a good time to tell of a few changes which three years have wrought in their appearance, for all are looking their best just now.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo's angles are much softened, she has learned to carry herself with ease, if not grace. The curly crop has lengthened into a thick coil, more becoming to the small head atop of the tall figure. There is a fresh color in her brown cheeks, a soft shine in her eyes, and only gentle words fall from her sharp tongue today.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Beth has grown slender, pale, and more quiet than ever. The beautiful, kind eyes are larger, and in them lies an expression that saddens one, although it is not sad itself. It is the shadow of pain which touches the young face with such pathetic patience, but Beth seldom complains and always speaks hopefully of `being better soon'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy is with truth considered `the flower of the family', for at sixteen she has the air and bearing of a full-grown woman, not beautiful, but possessed of that indescribable charm called grace. One saw it in the lines of her figure, the make and motion of her hands, the flow of her dress, the droop of her hair, unconscious yet harmonious, and as attractive to many as beauty itself. Amy's nose still afflicted her, for it never would grow Grecian, so did her mouth, being too wide, and having a decided chin. These offending features gave character to her whole face, but she never could see it, and consoled herself with her wonderfully fair complexion, keen blue eyes, and curls more golden and abundant than ever.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">All three wore suits of thin silver gray (their best gowns for the summer), with blush roses in hair and bosom, and all three looked just what they were, fresh-faced, happy-hearted girls, pausing a moment in their busy lives to read with wistful eyes the sweetest chapter in the romance of womanhood.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">There were to be no ceremonious performances, everything was to be as natural and homelike as possible, so when Aunt March arrived, she was scandalized to see the bride come running to welcome and lead her in, to find the bridegroom fastening up a garland that had fallen down, and to catch a glimpse of the paternal minister marching upstairs with a grave countenance and a wine bottle under each arm.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Upon my word, here's a state of things!" cried the old lady, taking the seat of honor prepared for her, and settling the folds of her lavender moire with a great rustle. "You oughtn't to be seen till the last minute, child."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm not a show, Aunty, and no one is coming to stare at me, to criticize my dress, or count the cost of my luncheon. I'm too happy to care what anyone says or thinks, and I'm going to have my little wedding just as I like it. John, dear, here's your hammer." And away went Meg to help `that man' in his highly improper employment.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. Brooke didn't even say, "Thank you," but as he stooped for the unromantic tool, he kissed his little bride behind the folding door, with a look that made Aunt March whisk out her pocket handkerchief with a sudden dew in her sharp old eyes.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A crash, a cry, and a laugh from Laurie, accompanied by the indecorous exclamation, "Jupiter Ammon! Jo's upset the cake again!" caused a momentary flurry, which was hardly over when a flock of cousins arrived, and `the party came in', as Beth used to say when a child.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't let that young giant come near me, he worries me worse than mosquitoes," whispered the old lady to Amy, as the rooms filled and Laurie's black head towered above the rest.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He has promised to be very good today, and he can be perfectly elegant if he likes," returned Amy, and gliding away to warn Hercules to beware of the dragon, which warning caused him to haunt the old lady with a devotion that nearly distracted her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">There was no bridal procession, but a sudden silence fell upon the room as Mr. March and the young couple took their places under the green arch. Mother and sisters gathered close, as if loath to give Meg up. The fatherly voice broke more than once, which only seemed to make the service more beautiful and solemn. The bridegroom's hand trembled visibly, and no one heard his replies. But Meg looked straight up in her husband's eyes, and said, "I will!" with such tender trust in her own face and voice that her mother's heart rejoiced and Aunt March sniffed audibly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo did not cry, though she was very near it once, and was only saved from a demonstration by the consciousness that Laurie was staring fixedly at her, with a comical mixture of merriment and emotion in his wicked black eyes. Beth kept her face hidden on her mother's shoulder, but Amy stood like a graceful statue, with a most becoming ray of sunshine touching her white forehead and the flower in her hair.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It wasn't at all the thing, I'm afraid, but the minute she was fairly married, Meg cried, "The first kiss for Marmee!" and turning, gave it with her heart on her lips. During the next fifteen minutes she looked more like a rose than ever, for everyone availed themselves of their privileges to the fullest extent, from Mr. Laurence to old Hannah, who, adorned with a headdress fearfully and wonderfully made, fell upon her in the hall, crying with a sob and a chuckle, "Bless you, deary, a hundred times! The cake ain't hurt a mite, and everything looks lovely."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Everybody cleared up after that, and said something brilliant, or tried to, which did just as well, for laughter is ready when hearts are light. There was no display of gifts, for they were already in the little house, nor was there an elaborate breakfast, but a plentiful lunch of cake and fruit, dressed with flowers. Mr. Laurence and Aunt March shrugged and smiled at one another when water, lemonade, and coffee were found to be to only sorts of nectar which the three Hebes carried around. No one said anything, till Laurie, who insisted on serving the bride, appeared before her, with a loaded salver in his hand and a puzzled expression on his face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Has Jo smashed all the bottles by accident?" he whispered, "or am I merely laboring under a delusion that I saw some lying about loose this morning?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, your grandfather kindly offered us his best, and Aunt March actually sent some, but Father put away a little for Beth, and dispatched the rest to the Soldier's Home. You know he thinks that wine should be used only in illness, and Mother says that neither she nor her daughters will ever offer it to any young man under her roof."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg spoke seriously and expected to see Laurie frown or laugh, but he did neither, for after a quick look at her, he said, in his impetuous way, "I like that! For I've seen enough harm done to wish other women would think as you do."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You are not made wise by experience, I hope?" And there was an anxious accent in Meg's voice.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No. I give you my word for it. Don't think too well of me, either, this is not one of my temptations. Being brought up where wine is as common as water and almost as harmless, I don't care for it, but when a pretty girl offers it, one doesn't like to refuse, you see."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"But you will, for the sake of others, if not for your own. Come, Laurie, promise, and give me one more reason to call this the happiest day of my life."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A demand so sudden and so serious made the young man hesitate a moment, for ridicule is often harder to bear than self-denial. Meg knew that if he gave the promise he would keep it at all costs, and feeling her power, used it as a woman may for her friend's good. She did not speak, but she looked up at him with a face made very eloquent by happiness, and a smile which said, "No one can refuse me anything today."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie certainly could not, and with an answering smile, he gave her his hand, saying heartily, "I promise, Mrs. Brooke!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I thank you, very, very much."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And I drink `long life to your resolution', Teddy," cried Jo, baptizing him with a splash of lemonade, as she waved her glass and beamed approvingly upon him.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">So the toast was drunk, the pledge made and loyally kept in spite of many temptations, for with instinctive wisdom, the girls seized a happy moment to do their friend a service, for which he thanked them all his life.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">After lunch, people strolled about, by twos and threes, through the house and garden, enjoying the sunshine without and within. Meg and John happened to be standing together in the middle of the grass plot, when Laurie was seized with an inspiration which put the finishing touch to this unfashionable wedding.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"All the married people take hands and dance round the new-made husband and wife, as the Germans do, while we bachelors and spinsters prance in couples outside!" cried Laurie, promenading down the path with Amy, with such infectious spirit and skill that everyone else followed their example without a murmur. Mr. and Mrs. March, Aunt and Uncle Carrol began it, others rapidly joined in, even Sallie Moffat, after a moment's hesitation, threw her train over her arm and whisked Ned into the ring. But the crowning joke was Mr. Laurence and Aunt March, for when the stately old gentleman chass'ed solemnly up to the old lady, she just tucked her cane under arm, and hopped briskly away to join hands with the rest and dance about the bridal pair, while the young folks pervaded the garden like butterflies on a midsummer day.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Want of breath brought the impromptu ball to a close, and then people began to go.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wish you well, my dear, I heartily wish you well, but I think you'll be sorry for it," said Aunt March to Meg, adding to the bridegroom, as he led her to the carriage, "You've got a treasure, young man, see that you deserve it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That is the prettiest wedding I've been to for an age, Ned, and I don't see why, for there wasn't a bit of style about it," observed Mrs. Moffat to her husband, as they drove away.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Laurie, my lad, if you ever want to indulge in this sort of thing, get one of those little girls to help you, and I shall be perfectly satisfied," said Mr. Laurence, settling himself in his easy chair to rest after the excitement of the morning.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll do my best to gratify you, Sir," was Laurie's unusually dutiful reply, as he carefully unpinned the posy Jo had put in his buttonhole.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The little house was not far away, and the only bridal journey Meg had was the quiet walk with John from the old home to the new. When she came down, looking like a pretty Quakeress in her dovecolored suit and straw bonnet tied with white, they all gathered about her to say goodby, as tenderly as if she had been going to make the grand tour.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't feel that I am separated from you, Marmee dear, or that I love you any the less for loving John so much," she said, clinging to her mother, with full eyes for a moment. "I shall come every day, Father, and expect to keep my old place in all your hearts, though I am married. Beth is going to be with me a great deal, and the other girls will drop in now and then to laugh at my housekeeping struggles. Thank you all for my happy wedding day. Goodby, goodby!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They stood watching her, with faces full of love and hope and tender pride as she walked away, leaning on her husband's arm, with her hands full of flowers and the June sunshine brightening her happy face--and so Meg's married life began.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-61537052721019024512022-08-02T11:06:00.004+05:302022-08-02T11:06:31.923+05:30PART TWO: CHAPTER TWENTY - FOUR - Gossip - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">In order that we may start afresh and go to Meg's wedding with free minds, it will be well to begin with a little gossip about the Marches. And here let me premise that if any of the elders think there is too much `lovering' in the story, as I fear they may (I'm not afraid the young folks will make that objection), I can only say with Mrs. March, "What can you expect when I have four gay girls in the house, and a dashing young neighbor over the way?"</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The three years that have passed have brought but few changes to the quiet family. The war is over, and Mr. March safely at home, busy with his books and the small parish which found in him a minister by nature as by grace, a quiet, studious man, rich in the wisdom that is better than learning, the charity which calls all mankind `brother', the piety that blossoms into character, making it august and lovely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">These attributes, in spite of poverty and the strict integrity which shut him out from the more worldly successes, attracted to him many admirable persons, as naturally as sweet herbs draw bees, and as naturally he gave them the honey into which fifty years of hard experience had distilled no bitter drop. Earnest young men found the gray-headed scholar as young at heart as they, thoughtful or troubled women instinctively brought their doubts to him, sure of finding the gentlest sympathy, the wisest counsel. Sinners told their sins to the pure-hearted old man and were both rebuked and saved. Gifted men found a companion in him. Ambitious men caught glimpses of nobler ambitions than their own, and even worldlings confessed that his beliefs were beautiful and true, although `they wouldn't pay'.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CNyZyee3p_kCFZlJYAodJBQKug" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.10~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418567&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-four-gossip&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpH8d-LVRTyb79YrQkdE9AqV3bkeap3WWMefac70AN2bkEiUcwqB7D_d66ff0pFhQn36jRKsw0u9N&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418531115&bpp=2&bdt=776&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=7200156456694&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418531&ga_hid=2067424465&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1443&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608%2C31061690&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLu9WrnZOBWrRvF2ShTULkkBW13DqyjzXBaOCLXjlUdcmfKiir6MflFpY4M4llC36O7-PzJQcCcflqU&pvsid=3676377021210122&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=VwXG3GtGfN&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=36360" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To outsiders the five energetic women seemed to rule the house, and so they did in many things, but the quiet scholar, sitting among his books, was still the head of the family, the household conscience, anchor, and comforter, for to him the busy, anxious women always turned in troublous times, finding him, in the truest sense of those sacred words, husband and father.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The girls gave their hearts into their mother's keeping, their souls into their father's, and to both parents, who lived and labored so faithfully for them, they gave a love that grew with their growth and bound them tenderly together by the sweetest tie which blesses life and outlives death.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March is as brisk and cheery, though rather grayer, than when we saw her last, and just now so absorbed in Meg's affairs that the hospitals and homes still full of wounded `boys' and soldiers' widows, decidedly miss the motherly missionary's visits.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">John Brooke did his duty manfully for a year, got wounded, was sent home, and not allowed to return. He received no stars or bars, but he deserved them, for he cheerfully risked all he had, and life and love are very precious when both are in full bloom. Perfectly resigned to his discharge, he devoted himself to getting well, preparing for business, and earning a home for Meg. With the good sense and sturdy independence that characterized him, he refused Mr. Laurence's more generous offers, and accepted the place of bookkeeper, feeling better satisfied to begin with an honestly earned salary than by running any risks with borrowed money.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CJvO9Oe3p_kCFQIYYAodl04FdQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.14~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418568&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-four-gossip&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpH8d-LVRTyb79YrQkdE9AqV3bkeap3WWMefac70AN2bkEiUcwqB7D_d66ff0pFhQn36jRKsw0u9N&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418531129&bpp=2&bdt=789&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=7200156456694&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418531&ga_hid=2067424465&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2013&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=199&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608%2C31061690&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLu9WrnZOBWrRvF2ShTULkkBW13DqyjzXBaOCLXjlUdcmfKiir6MflFpY4M4llC36O7-PzJQcCcflqU&pvsid=3676377021210122&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=T9zc8GVR8x&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=37207" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg had spent the time in working as well as waiting, growing womanly in character, wise in housewifely arts, and prettier than ever, for love is a great beautifier. She had her girlish ambitions and hopes, and felt some disappointment at the humble way in which the new life must begin. Ned Moffat had just married Sallie Gardiner, and Meg couldn't help contrasting their fine house and carriage, many gifts, and splendid outfit with her own, and secretly wishing she could have the same. But somehow envy and discontent soon vanished when she thought of all the patient love and labor John had put into the little home awaiting her, and when they sat together in the twilight, talking over their small plans, the future always grew so beautiful and bright that she forgot Sallie's splendor and felt herself the richest, happiest girl in Christendom.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo never went back to Aunt March, for the old lady took such a fancy to AMy that she bribed her with the offer of drawing lessons from one of the best teachers going, and for the sake of this advantage, Amy would have served a far harder mistress. So she gave her mornings to duty, her afternoons to pleasure, and prospered finely. Jo meantime devoted herself to literature and Beth, who remained delicate long after the fever was a thing of the past. Not an invalid exactly, but never again the rosy, healthy creature she had been, yet always hopeful, happy, and serene, and busy with the quiet duties she loved, everyone's friend, and an angel in the house, long before those who loved her most had learned to know it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As long as THE SPREAD EAGLE paid her a dollar a column for her</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="CJusk_a3p_kCFZpCYAod7xoDNg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.17~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418598&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-four-gossip&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpH8d-LVRTyb79YrQkdE9AqV3bkeap3WWMefac70AN2bkEiUcwqB7D_d66ff0pFhQn36jRKsw0u9N&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418531140&bpp=2&bdt=799&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=7200156456694&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418531&ga_hid=2067424465&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2568&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=760&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608%2C31061690&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLu9WrnZOBWrRvF2ShTULkkBW13DqyjzXBaOCLXjlUdcmfKiir6MflFpY4M4llC36O7-PzJQcCcflqU&pvsid=3676377021210122&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=jGOCQVjt5F&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=67046" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`rubbish', as she called it, Jo felt herself a woman of means, and spun her little romances diligently. But great plans fermented in her busy brain and ambitious mind, and the old tin kitchen in the garret held a slowly increasing pile of blotted manuscript, which was one day to place the name of March upon the roll of fame.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie, having dutifully gone to college to please his grandfather, was now getting through it in the easiest possible manner to please himself. A universal favorite, thanks to money, manners, much talent, and the kindest heart that ever got its owner into scrapes by trying to get other people out of them, he stood in great danger of being spoiled, and probably would have been, like many another promising boy, if he had not possessed a talisman against evil in the memory of the kind old man who was bound up in his success, the motherly friend who watched over him as if he were her son, and last, but not least by any means, the knowledge that four innocent girls loved, admired, and believed in him with all their hearts.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Being only `a glorious human boy', of course he frolicked and flirted, grew dandified, aquatic, sentimental, or gymnastic, as college fashions ordained, hazed and was hazed, talked slang, and more than once came perilously near suspension and expulsion. But as high spirits and the love of fun were the causes of these pranks, he always managed to save himself by frank confession, honorable atonement, or the irresistible power of persuasion which he possessed in perfection. In fact, he rather prided himself on his narrow escapes, and liked to thrill the girls with graphic accounts of his triumphs over wrathful tutors, dignified professors, and vanquished enemies. The `men of my class', were heroes in the eyes of the girls, who never wearied of the exploits of `our fellows', and were frequently allowed to bask in the smiles of these great creatures, when Laurie brought them home with him.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy especially enjoyed this high honor, and became quite a belle among them, for her ladyship early felt and learned to use the gift of fascination with which she was endowed. Meg was too much absorbed in her private and particular John to care for any other lords of creation, and Beth too shy to do more than peep at them and wonder how Amy dared to order them about so, but Jo felt quite in her own element, and found it very difficult to refrain from imitating the gentlemanly attitudes, phrases, and feats, which seemed more natural to her than the decorums prescribed for young ladies. They all liked Jo immensely, but never fell in love with her, though very few escaped without paying the tribute of a sentimental sigh or two at Amy's shrine. And speaking of sentiment brings us very naturally to the `Dovecote'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">That was the name of the little brown house Mr. Brooke had prepared for Meg's first home. Laurie had christened it, saying it was highly appropriate to the gentle lovers who `went on together like a pair of turtledoves, with first a bill and then a coo'. It was a tiny house, with a little garden behind and a lawn about as big as a pocket handkerchief in the front. Here Meg meant to have a fountain, shrubbery, and a profusion of lovely flowers, though just at present the fountain was represented by a weather-beaten urn, very like a dilapidated slopbowl, the shrubbery consisted of several young larches, undecided whether to live or die, and the profusion of flowers was merely hinted by regiments of sticks to show where seeds were planted. But inside, it was altogether charming, and the happy bride saw no fault from garret to cellar. To be sure, the hall was so narrow it was fortunate that they had no piano, for one never could have been got in whole, the dining room was so small that six people were a tight fit, and the kitchen stairs seemed built for the express purpose of precipitating both servants and china pell-mell into the coalbin. But once get used to these slight blemishes and nothing could be more complete, for good sense and good taste had presided over the furnishing, and the result was highly satisfactory. There were no marble-topped tables, long mirrors, or lace curtains in the little parlor, but simple furniture, plenty of books, a fine picture or two, a stand of flowers in the bay window, and, scattered all about, the pretty gifts which came from friendly hands and were the fairer for the loving messages they brought.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CMrL8fa3p_kCFY8XYAodd0wFQg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.22~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418599&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-four-gossip&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpH8d-LVRTyb79YrQkdE9AqV3bkeap3WWMefac70AN2bkEiUcwqB7D_d66ff0pFhQn36jRKsw0u9N&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418531152&bpp=3&bdt=811&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=7200156456694&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418531&ga_hid=2067424465&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3963&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=2154&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608%2C31061690&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLu9WrnZOBWrRvF2ShTULkkBW13DqyjzXBaOCLXjlUdcmfKiir6MflFpY4M4llC36O7-PzJQcCcflqU&pvsid=3676377021210122&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=bzB4InHOtN&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=68560" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I don't think the Parian Psyche Laurie gave lost any of its beauty because John put up the bracket it stood upon, that any upholsterer could have draped the plain muslin curtains more gracefully than Amy's artistic hand, or that any store-room was ever better provided with good wishes, merry words, and happy hopes than that in which Jo and her mother put away Meg's few boxes, barrels, and bundles, and I am morally certain that the spandy new kitchen never could have looked so cozy and neat if Hannah had not arranged every pot and pan a dozen times over, and laid the fire all ready for lighting the minute `Mis. Brooke came home'. I also doubt if any young matron ever began life with so rich a supply of dusters, holders, and piece bags, for Beth made enough to last till the silver wedding came round, and invented three different kinds of dishcloths for the express service of the bridal china.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">People who hire all these things done for them never know what they lose, for the homeliest tasks get beautified if loving hands do them, and Meg found so many proofs of this that everything in her small nest, from the kitchen roller to the silver vase on her parlor table, was eloquent of home love and tender forethought.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">What happy times they had planning together, what solemn shopping excursions, what funny mistakes they made, and what shouts of laughter arose over Laurie's ridiculous bargains. In his love of jokes, this young gentleman, though nearly through college, was a much of a boy as ever. His last whim had been to bring with him on his weekly visits some new, useful, and ingenious article for the young housekeeper. Now a bag of remarkable clothespins, next, a wonderful nutmeg grater which fell to pieces at the first trial, a knife cleaner that spoiled all the knives, or a sweeper that picked the nap neatly off the carpet and left the dirt, labor-saving soap that took the skin off one's hands, infallible cements which stuck firmly to nothing but the fingers of the deluded buyer, and every kind of tinware, from a toy savings bank for odd pennies, to a wonderful boiler which would wash articles in its own steam with every prospect of exploding in the process.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In vain Meg begged him to stop. John laughed at him, and Jo called him `Mr. Toodles'. He was possessed with a mania for patronizing Yankee ingenuity, and seeing his friends fitly furnished forth. So each week beheld some fresh absurdity.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Everything was done at last, even to Amy's arranging different colored soaps to match the different colored rooms, and Beth's setting the table for the first meal.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Are you satisfied? Does it seem like home, and do you feel as if you should be happy here?" asked Mrs. March, as she and her daughter went through the new kingdom arm in arm, for just then they seemed to cling together more tenderly than ever.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, Mother, perfectly satisfied, thanks to you all, and so happy that I can't talk about it," with a look that was far better than words.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If she only had a servant or two it would be all right," said Amy, coming out of the parlor, where she had been trying to decide whether the bronze Mercury looked best on the whatnot or the mantlepiece.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CM-Ro_e3p_kCFUhlYAodQzoPgg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.30~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418600&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-four-gossip&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpH8d-LVRTyb79YrQkdE9AqV3bkeap3WWMefac70AN2bkEiUcwqB7D_d66ff0pFhQn36jRKsw0u9N&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418531164&bpp=2&bdt=824&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=7200156456694&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418531&ga_hid=2067424465&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=5133&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=3362&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608%2C31061690&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLu9WrnZOBWrRvF2ShTULkkBW13DqyjzXBaOCLXjlUdcmfKiir6MflFpY4M4llC36O7-PzJQcCcflqU&pvsid=3676377021210122&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=N1f5qjKz2G&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=69367" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mother and I have talked that over, and I have made up my mind to try her way first. There will be so little to do that with Lotty to run my errands and help me here and there, I shall only have enough work to keep me from getting lazy or homesick," answered Meg tranquilly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Sallie Moffat has four," began Amy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If Meg had four, the house wouldn't hold them, and master and missis would have to camp in the garden," broke in Jo, who, enveloped in a big blue pinafore, was giving the last polish to the door handles.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Sallie isn't a poor man's wife, and many maids are in keeping with her fine establishment. Meg and John begin humbly, but I have a feeling that there will be quite as much happiness in the little house as in the big one. It's a great mistake for young girls like Meg to leave themselves nothing to do but dress, give orders, and gossip. When I was first married, I used to long for my new clothes to wear out or get torn, so that i might have the pleasure of mending them, for I got heartily sick of doing fancywork and tending my pocket handkerchief."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why didn't you go into the kitchen and make messes, as Sallie says she does to amuse herself, though they never turn out well and the servants laugh at her," said Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I did after a while, not to `mess' but to learn of Hannah how things should be done, that my servants need not laugh at me. It was play then, but there came a time when I was truly grateful that I not only possessed the will but the power to cook wholesome food for my little girls, and help myself when I could no longer afford to hire help. You begin at the other end, Meg, dear, but the lessons you learn now will be of use to you by-and-by when John is a richer man, for the mistress of a house, however splendid, should know how work ought to be done, if she wishes to be well and honestly served."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, Mother, I'm sure of that," said Meg, listening respectfully to the little lecture, for the best of women will hold forth upon the all absorbing subject of house keeping. "Do you know I like this room most of all in my baby house," added Meg, a minute after, as they went upstairs and she looked into her well-stored linen closet.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Beth was there, laying the snowy piles smoothly on the shelves and exulting over the goodly array. All three laughed as Meg spoke, for that linen closet was a joke. You see, having said that if Meg married `that Brooke' she shouldn't have a cent of her money, Aunt March was rather in a quandary when time had appeased her wrath and made her repent her vow. She never broke her word, and was much exercised in her mind how to get round it, and at last devised a plan whereby she could satisfy herself. Mrs. Carrol, Florence's mamma, was ordered to buy, have made, and marked a generous supply of house and table linen, and send it as her present, all of which was faithfully done, but the secret leaked out, and was greatly enjoyed by the family, for Aunt March tried to look utterly unconscious, and insisted that she could give nothing but the old-fashioned pearls long promised to the first bride.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's a housewifely taste which I am glad to see. I had a young friend who set up housekeeping with six sheets, but she had finger bowls for company and that satisfied her," said Mrs. March, patting the damask tablecloths, with a truly feminine appreciation of their fineness.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I haven't a single finger bowl, but this is a setout that will last me all my days, Hannah says." And Meg looked quite contented, as well she might.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A tall, broad-shouldered young fellow, with a cropped head, a felt basin of a hat, and a flyaway coat, came tramping down the road at a great pace, walked over the low fence without stopping to open the gate, straight up to Mrs. March, with both hands out and a hearty . ..</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here I am, Mother! Yes, it's all right."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The last words were in answer to the look the elder lady gave him, a kindly questioning look which the handsome eyes met so frankly that the little ceremony closed, as usual, with a motherly kiss.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"For Mrs. John Brooke, with the maker's congratulations and compliments. Bless you, Beth! What a refreshing spectacle you are, Jo. Amy, you are getting altogether too handsome for a single lady."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As Laurie spoke, he delivered a brown paper parcel to Meg, pilled Beth's hair ribbon, stared at Jo's bib pinafore, and fell into an attitude of mock rapture before Amy, then shook hands all round, and everyone began to talk.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Where is John?" asked Meg anxiously.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Stopped to get the license for tomorrow, ma'am."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Which side won the last match, Teddy?" inquired Jo, who persisted in feeling an interest in manly sports despite her nineteen years.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Ours, of course. Wish you'd been there to see."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How is the lovely Miss Randal?" asked Amy with a significant smile.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"More cruel than ever. Don't you see how I'm pining away?" And Laurie gave his broad chest a sounding slap and heaved a melodramatic sigh.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_7_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_7_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!8" data-google-query-id="CKfOgfi3p_kCFdRbYAodzm0PQg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_7" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_7" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=544027183&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.51~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418602&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-four-gossip&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpH8d-LVRTyb79YrQkdE9AqV3bkeap3WWMefac70AN2bkEiUcwqB7D_d66ff0pFhQn36jRKsw0u9N&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418531184&bpp=7&bdt=844&idt=7&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=7&correlator=7200156456694&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418531&ga_hid=2067424465&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=7158&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=5360&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608%2C31061690&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLu9WrnZOBWrRvF2ShTULkkBW13DqyjzXBaOCLXjlUdcmfKiir6MflFpY4M4llC36O7-PzJQcCcflqU&pvsid=3676377021210122&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=8&uci=a!8&btvi=6&fsb=1&xpc=glLcHxjy6a&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=70921" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What's the last joke? Undo the bundle and see, Meg," said Beth, eying the knobby parcel with curiosity.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's a useful thing to have in the house in case of fire or thieves," observed Laurie, as a watchman's rattle appeared, amid the laughter of the girls.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Any time when John is away and you get frightened, Mrs. Meg, just swing that out of the front window, and it will rouse the neighborhood in a jiffy. Nice thing, isn't it?" And Laurie gave them a sample of its powers that made them cover up their ears.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There's gratitude for you! And speaking of gratitude reminds me to mention that you may thank Hannah for saving your wedding cake from destruction. I saw it going into your house as I came by, and if she hadn't defended it manfully I'd have had a pick at it, for it looked like a remarkably plummy one."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wonder if you will ever grow up, Laurie," said Meg in a matronly tone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm doing my best, ma'am, but can't get much higher, I'm afraid, as six feet is about all men can do in these degenerate days," responded the young gentleman, whose head was about level with the little chandelier.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I suppose it would be profanation to eat anything in this spick-and-span bower, so as I'm tremendously hungry, I propose an adjournment," he added presently.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mother and I are going to wait for John. There are some last things to settle," said Meg, bustling away.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Beth and I are going over to Kitty Bryant's to get more flowers for tomorrow," added Amy, tying a picturesque hat over her picturesque curls, and enjoying the effect as much as anybody.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Come, Jo, don't desert a fellow. I'm in such a state of exhaustion I can't get home without help. Don't take off your apron, whatever you do, it's peculiarly becoming," said Laurie, as Jo bestowed his especial aversion in her capacious pocket and offered her arm to support his feeble steps.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now, Teddy, I want to talk seriously to you about tomorrow," began Jo, as they strolled away together. "You must promise to behave well, and not cut up any pranks, and spoil our plans."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not a prank."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And don't say funny things when we ought to be sober."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I never do. You are the one for that."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And I implore you not to look at me during the ceremony. I shall certainly laugh if you do."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You won't see me, you'll be crying so hard that the thick fog round you will obscure the prospect."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I never cry unless for some great affliction."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Such as fellows going to college, hey?" cut in Laurie, with suggestive laugh.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't be a peacock. I only moaned a trifle to keep the girls company."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Exactly. I say, Jo, how is Grandpa this week? Pretty amiable?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Very. Why, have you got into a scrape and want to know how he'll take it?" asked Jo rather sharply.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now, Jo, do you think I'd look your mother in the face and say</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`All right', if it wasn't?" And Laurie stopped short, with an injured air.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I don't."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then don't go and be suspicious. I only want some money," said Laurie, walking on again, appeased by her hearty tone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You spend a great deal, Teddy."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bless you, I don't spend it, it spends itself somehow, and is gone before I know it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You are so generous and kind-hearted that you let people borrow, and can't say `No' to anyone. We heard about Henshaw and all you did for him. If you always spent money in that way, no one would blame you," said Jo warmly.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_8_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_8_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!9" data-google-query-id="CN29y_i3p_kCFYrFTAIdDtcAKw" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_8" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_8" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=879892236&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.79~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418603&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-two-chapter-twenty-four-gossip&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpH8d-LVRTyb79YrQkdE9AqV3bkeap3WWMefac70AN2bkEiUcwqB7D_d66ff0pFhQn36jRKsw0u9N&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659418531230&bpp=3&bdt=890&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=8&correlator=7200156456694&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659418531&ga_hid=2067424465&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=8868&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=7072&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608%2C31061690&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLu9WrnZOBWrRvF2ShTULkkBW13DqyjzXBaOCLXjlUdcmfKiir6MflFpY4M4llC36O7-PzJQcCcflqU&pvsid=3676377021210122&tmod=835622849&uas=1&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=9&uci=a!9&btvi=7&fsb=1&xpc=wmY2nxtQzo&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=72089" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, he made a mountain out of a molehill. You wouldn't have me let that fine fellow work himself to death just for want of a little help, when he is worth a dozen of us lazy chaps, would you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course not, but I don't see the use of your having seventeen waistcoats, endless neckties, and a new hat every time you come home. I thought you'd got over the dandy period, but every now and then it breaks out in a new spot. Just now it's the fashion to be hideous, to make your head look like a scrubbing brush, wear a strait jacket, orange gloves, and clumping square-toed boots. If it was cheap ugliness, I'd say nothing, but it costs as much as the other, and I don't get any satisfaction out of it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie threw back his head, and laughed so heartily at this attack, that the felt hat fell off, and Jo walked on it, which insult only afforded him an opportunity for expatiating on the advantages of a rough-and-ready costume, as he folded up the maltreated hat, and stuffed it into his pocket.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't lecture any more, there's a good soul! I have enough all through the week, and like to enjoy myself when I come home. I'll get myself up regardless of expense tomorrow and be a satisfaction to my friends."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll leave you in peace if you'll only let your hair grow. I'm not aristocratic, but I do object to being seen with a person who looks like a young prize fighter," observed Jo severely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"This unassuming style promotes study, that's why we adopt it," returned Laurie, who certainly could not be accused of vanity, having voluntarily sacrificed a handsome curly crop to the demand for quarterinch-long stubble.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"By the way, Jo, I think that little Parker is really getting desperate about Amy. He talks of her constantly, writes poetry, and moons about in a most suspicious manner. He'd better nip his little passion in the bud, hadn't he?" added Laurie, in a confidential, elder brotherly tone, after a minute's silence.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course he had. We don't want any more marrying in this family for years to come. Mercy on us, what are the children thinking of?" And Jo looked as much scandalized as if Amy and little Parker were not yet in their teens.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's a fast age, and I don't know what we are coming to, ma'am. You are a mere infant, but you'll go next, Jo, and we'll be left lamenting," said Laurie, shaking his head over the degeneracy of the times.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't be alarmed. I'm not one of the agreeable sort. Nobody will want me, and it's a mercy, for there should always be one old maid in a family."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You won't give anyone a chance," said Laurie, with a sidelong glance and a little more color than before in his sunburned face. "You won't show the soft side of your character, and if a fellow gets a peep at it by accident and can't help showing that he likes it, you treat him as Mrs. Gummidge did her sweetheart, throw cold water over him, and get so thorny no one dares touch or look at you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't like that sort of thing. I'm too busy to be worried with nonsense, and I think it's dreadful to break up families so. Now don't say any more about it. Meg's wedding has turned all our heads, and we talk of nothing but lovers and such absurdities. I don't wish to get cross, so let's change the subject." And Jo looked quite ready to fling cold water on the slightest provocation.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Whatever his feelings might have been, Laurie found a vent for them in a long low whistle and the fearful prediction as they parted at the gate, "Mark my words, Jo, you'll go next."</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-17307021392942912502022-08-02T11:04:00.007+05:302022-08-02T11:04:58.539+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER TWENTY - THREE - Aunt March Settles the Question - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Like bees swarming after their queen, mother and daughters hovered about Mr. March the next day, neglecting everything to look at, wait upon, and listen to the new invalid, who was in a fair way to be killed by kindness. As he sat propped up in a big chair by Beth's sofa, with the other three close by, and Hannah popping in her head now and then `to peek at the dear man', nothing seemed needed to complete their happiness. But something was needed, and the elder ones felt it, though none confessed the fact. Mr. and Mrs. March looked at one another with an anxious expression, as their eyes followed Meg. Jo had sudden fits of sobriety, and was seen to shake her fist at Mr. Brooke's umbrella, which had been left in the hall. Meg was absent-minded, shy, and silent, started when the bell rang, and colored when John's name was mentioned. Amy said, "Everyone seemed waiting for something, and couldn't settle down, which was queer, since Father was safe at home," and Beth innocently wondered why their neighbors didn't run over as usual.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie went by in the afternoon, and seeing Meg at the window, seemed suddenly possessed with a melodramatic fit, for he fell down on one knee in the snow, beat his breast, tore his hair, and clasped his hands imploringly, as if begging some boon. And when Meg told him to behave himself and go away, he wrung imaginary tears out of his handkerchief, and staggered round the corner as if in utter despair.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What does the goose mean?" said Meg, laughing and trying to look unconscious.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He's showing you how your John will go on by-and-by. Touchin, isn't it?" answered Jo scornfully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't say my John, it isn't proper or true," but Meg's voice lingered over the words as if they sounded pleasant to her. "Please don't plague me, Jo, I've told you I don't care much about him, and there isn't to be anything said, but we are all to be friendly, and go on as before."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We can't, for something has been said, and Laurie's mischief has spoiled you for me. I see it, and so does Mother. You are not like your old self a bit, and seem ever so far away from me. I don't mean to plague you and will bear it like a man, but I do wish it was all settled. I hate to wait, so if you mean ever to do it, make haste and have it over quickly," said Jo pettishly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I can't say anything till he speaks, and he won't, because Father said I was too young," began Meg, bending over her work with a queer little smile, which suggested that she did not quite agree with her father on that point.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If he did speak, you wouldn't know what to say, but would cry or blush, or let him have his own way, instead of giving a good, decided no."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm not so silly and weak as you think. I know just what I should say, for I've planned it all, so I needn't be taken unawares. There's no knowing what may happen, and I wished to be prepared."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo couldn't help smiling at the important air which Meg had unconsciously assumed and which was as becoming as the pretty color varying in her cheeks.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Would you mind telling me what you'd say?" asked Jo more respectfully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not at all. You are sixteen now, quite old enough to be my confidente, and my experience will be useful to you by-and-by, perhaps, in your own affairs of this sort."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't mean to have any. It's fun to watch other people philander, but I should feel like a fool doing it myself," said Jo, looking alarmed at the thought.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I think not, if you liked anyone very much, and he liked you." Meg spoke as if to herself, and glanced out at the lane where she had often seen lovers walking together in the summer twilight.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I thought you were going to tell your speech to that man," said Jo, rudely shortening her sister's little reverie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, I should merely say, quite calmly and decidedly, `Thank you, Mr. Brooke, you are very kind, but I agree with Father that I am too young to enter into any engagement at present, so please say no more, but let us be friends as we were."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hum, that's stiff and cool enough! I don't believe you'll ever say it, and I know he won't be satisfied if you do. If he goes on like the rejected lovers in books, you'll give in, rather than hurt his feelings."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I won't. I shall tell him I've made up my mind, and shall walk out of the room with dignity."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg rose as she spoke, and was just going to rehearse the dignified exit, when a step in the hall made her fly into her seat and begin to sew as fast as if her life depended on finishing that particular seam in a given time. Jo smothered a laugh at the sudden change, and when someone gave a modest tap, opened the door with a grim aspect which was anything but hospitable.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Good afternoon. I came to get my umbrella, that is, to see how your father finds himself today," said Mr. Brooke, getting a trifle confused as his eyes went from one telltale face to the other.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's very well, he's in the rack. I'll get him, and tell it you are here." And having jumbled her father and the umbrella well together in her reply, Jo slipped out of the room to give Meg a chance to make her speech and air her dignity. But the instant she vanished, Meg began to sidle toward the door, murmuring...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mother will like to see you. Pray sit down, I'll call her."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't go. Are you afraid of me, Margaret?" And Mr. Brooke looked so hurt that Meg thought she must have done something very rude. She blushed up to the little curls on her forehead, for he had never called her Margaret before, and she was surprised to find how natural and sweet it seemed to hear him say it. Anxious to appear friendly and at her ease, she put out her hand with a confiding gesture, and said gratefully...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How can I be afraid when you have been so kind to Father? I only wish I could thank you for it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Shall I tell you how?" asked Mr. Brooke, holding the small hand fast in both his own, and looking down at Meg with so much love in the brown eyes that her heart began to flutter, and she both longed to run away and to stop and listen.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh no, please don't, I'd rather not," she said, trying to withdraw her hand, and looking frightened in spite of her denial.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I won't trouble you. I only want to know if you care for me a little, Meg. I love you so much, dear," added Mr. Brooke tenderly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">This was the moment for the calm, proper speech, but Meg didn't make it. She forgot every word of it, hung her head, and answered, "I don't know," so softly that John had to stoop down to catch the foolish little reply.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">He seemed to think it was worth the trouble, for he smiled to himself as if quite satisfied, pressed the plump hand gratefully, and said in his most persuasive tone, "Will you try and find out? I want to know so much, for I can't go to work with any heart until I learn whether I am to have my reward in the end or not."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm too young," faltered Meg, wondering was she was so fluttered, yet rather enjoying it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll wait, and in the meantime, you could be learning to like me. Would it be a very hard lesson, dear?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not if I chose to learn it, but. . ."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Please choose to learn, Meg. I love you to teach, and this is easier than German," broke in John, getting possession of the other hand, so that she had no way of hiding her face as he bent to look into it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">His tone was properly beseeching, but stealing a shy look at him, Meg saw that his eyes were merry as well as tender, and that he wore the satisfied smile of one who had no doubt of his success. This nettled her. Annie Moffat's foolish lessons in coquetry came into her mind, and the love of power, which sleeps in the bosoms of the best of little women, woke up all of a sudden and took possession of her. She felt excited and strange, and not knowing what else to do, followed a capricious impulse, and, withdrawing her hands, said petulantly, "I don't choose. Please go away and let me be!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Poor Mr. Brooke looked as if his lovely castle in the air was tumbling about his ears, for he had never seen Meg in such a mood before, and it rather bewildered him.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you really mean that?" he asked anxiously, following her as she walked away.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, I do. I don't want to be worried about such things. Father says I needn't, it's too soon and I'd rather not."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mayn't I hope you'll change your mind by-and-by? I'll wait and say nothing till you have had more time. Don't play with me, Meg. I didn't think that of you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't think of me at all. I'd rather you wouldn't," said Meg, taking a naughty satisfaction in trying her lover's patience and her own power. He was grave and pale now, and looked decidedly more like the novel heroes whom she admired, but he neither slapped his forehead nor tramped about the room as they did. He just stood looking at her so wistfully, so tenderly, that she found her heart relenting in spite of herself. What would have happened next I cannot say, if Aunt March had not come hobbling in at this interesting minute.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The old lady couldn't resist her longing to see her nephew, for she had met Laurie as she took her airing, and hearing of Mr. March's arrival, drove straight out to see him. The family were all busy in the back part of the house, and she had made her way quietly in, hoping to surprise them. She did surprise two of them so much that Meg started as if she had seen a ghost, and Mr. Brooke vanished into the study.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bless me, what's all this?" cried the old lady with a rap of her cane as she glanced from the pale young gentleman to the scarlet young lady.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's Father's friend. I'm so surprised to see you!" stammered Meg, feeling that she was in for a lecture now.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's evident," returned Aunt March, sitting down. "But what is Father's friend saying to make you look like a peony? There's mischief going on, and I insist upon knowing what it is," with another rap.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We were only talking. Mr. Brooke came for his umbrella," began Meg, wishing that Mr. Brooke and the umbrella were safely out of the house.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Brooke? That boy's tutor? Ah! I understand now. I know all about it. Jo blundered into a wrong message in one of your Father's letters, and I made her tell me. You haven't gone and accepted him, child?" cried Aunt March, looking scandalized.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hush! He'll hear. Shan't I call Mother?" said Meg, much troubled.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not yet. I've something to say to you, and I must free my mind at once. Tell me, do you mean to marry this Cook? If you do, not one penny of my money ever goes to you. Remember that, and be a sensible girl," said the old lady impressively.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Now Aunt March possessed in perfection the art of rousing the spirit of opposition in the gentlest people, and enjoyed doing it. The best of us have a spice of perversity in us, especially when we are young and in love. If Aunt March had begged Meg to accept John Brooke, she would probably have declared she couldn't think of it, but as she was preemptorily ordered not to like him, she immediately made up her mind that she would. Inclination as well as perversity made the decision easy, and being already much excited, Meg opposed the old lady with unusual spirit. "I shall marry whom I please, Aunt March, and you can leave your money to anyone you like," she said, nodding her head with a resolute air.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Highty-tighty! Is that the way you take my advice, Miss? You'll be sorry for it by-and-by, when you've tried love in a cottage and found it a failure."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It can't be a worse one than some people find in big houses," retorted Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Aunt March put on her glasses and took a look at the girl, for she did not know her in this new mood. Meg hardly knew herself, she felt so brave and independent, so glad to defend John and assert her right to love him, if she liked. Aunt March saw that she had begun wrong, and after a little pause, made a fresh start, saying as mildly as she could, "Now, Meg, my dear, be reasonable and take my advice. I mean it kindly, and don't want you to spoil your whole life by making a mistake at the beginning. You ought to marry well and help your family. It's your duty to make a rich match and it ought to be impressed upon you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Father and Mother don't think so. They like John though he is poor."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Your parents, my dear, have no more worldly wisdom than a pair of babies."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm glad of it," cried Meg stoutly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Aunt March took no notice, but went on with her lecture. "This Rook is poor and hasn't got any rich relations, has he?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, but he has many warm friends."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You can't live on friends, try it and see how cool they'll grow. He hasn't any business, has he?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not yet. Mr. Laurence is going to help him."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That won't last long. James Laurence is a crotchety old fellow and not to be depended on. So you intend to marry a man without money, position, or business, and go on working harder than you do now, when you might be comfortable all your days by minding me and doing better? I thought you had more sense, Meg."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I couldn't do better if I waited half my life! John is good and wise, he's got heaps of talent, he's willing to work and sure to get on, he's so energetic and brave. Everyone likes and respects him, and I'm proud to think he cares for me, though I'm so poor and young and silly," said Meg, looking prettier than ever in her earnestness.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He knows you have got rich relations, child. That's the secret of his liking, I suspect."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Aunt March, how dare you say such a thing? John is above such meanness, and I won't listen to you a minute if you talk so," cried Meg indignantly, forgetting everything but the injustice of the old lady's suspicions. "My John wouldn't marry for money, any more than I would. We are willing to work and we mean to wait. I'm not afraid of being poor, for I've been happy so far, and I know I shall be with him because he loves me, and I..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg stopped there, remembering all of a sudden that she hadn't made up her mind, that she had told `her John' to go away, and that he might be overhearing her inconsistent remarks.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Aunt March was very angry, for she had set her heart on having her pretty niece make a fine match, and something in the girl's happy young face made the lonely old woman feel both sad and sour.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I wash my hands of the whole affair! You are a willful child, and you've lost more than you know by this piece of folly. No, I won't stop. I'm disappointed in you, and haven't spirits to see your father now. Don't expect anything from me when you are married. Your Mr. Book's friends must take care of you. I'm done with you forever."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">And slamming the door in Meg's face, Aunt March drove off in high dudgeon. She seemed to take all the girl's courage with her, for when left alone, Meg stood for a moment, undecided whether to laugh or cry. Before she could make up her mind, she was taken possession of by Mr. Brooke, who said all in one breath, "I couldn't help hearing, Meg. Thank you for defending me, and Aunt March for proving that you do care for me a little bit."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I didn't know how much till she abused you," began Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And I needn't go away, but my stay and be happy, may I, dear?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Here was another fine chance to make the crushing speech and the stately exit, but Meg never thought of doing either, and disgraced herself forever in Jo's eyes by meekly whispering, "Yes, John," and hiding her face on Mr. Brooke's waistcoat.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Fifteen minutes after Aunt March's departure, Jo came softly downstairs, paused an instant at the parlor door, and hearing no sound within, nodded and smiled with a satisfied expression, saying to herself, "She has seen him away as we planned, and that affair is settled. I'll go and hear the fun, and have a good laugh over it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">But poor Jo never got her laugh, for she was transfixed upon the threshold by a spectacle which held her there, staring with her mouth nearly as wide open as her eyes. Going in to exult over a fallen enemy and to praise a strong-minded sister for the banishment of an objectionable lover, it certainly was a shock to behold the aforesaid enemy serenely sitting on the sofa, with the strongminded sister enthroned upon his knee and wearing an expression of the most abject submission. Jo gave a sort of gasp, as if a cold shower bath had suddenly fallen upon her, for such an unexpected turning of the tables actually took her breath away. At the odd sound the lovers turned and saw her. Meg jumped up, looking both proud and shy, but `that man', as Jo called him, actually laughed and said coolly, as he kissed the astonished newcomer, "Sister Jo, congratulate us!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">That was adding insult to injury, it was altogether too much, and making some wild demonstration with her hands, Jo vanished without a word. Rushing upstairs, she startled the invalids by exclaiming tragically as she burst into the room, "Oh, do somebody go down quick! John Brooke is acting dreadfully, and Meg likes it!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. and Mrs. March left the room with speed, and casting herself upon the be, Jo cried and scolded tempestuously as she told the awful news to Beth and Amy. The little girls, however, considered it a most agreeable and interesting event, and Jo got little comfort from them, so she went up to her refuge in the garret, and confided her troubles to the rats.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Nobody ever knew what went on in the parlor that afternoon, but a great deal of talking was done, and quiet Mr. Brooke astonished his friends by the eloquence and spirit with which he pleaded his suit, told his plans, and persuaded them to arrange everything just as he wanted it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The tea bell rang before he had finished describing the paradise which he meant to earn for Meg, and he proudly took her in to supper, both looking so happy that Jo hadn't the heart to be jealous or dismal. Amy was very much impressed by John's devotion and Meg's dignity, Beth beamed at them from a distance, while Mr. and Mrs. March surveyed the young couple with such tender satisfaction that it was perfectly evident Aunt March was right in calling them as `unworldly as a pair of babies'. No one ate much, but everyone looked very happy, and the old room seemed to brighten up amazingly when the first romance of the family began there.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You can't say nothing pleasant ever happens now, can you, Meg?" said Amy, trying to decide how she would group the lovers in a sketch she was planning to make. "No, I'm sure I can't. How much has happened since I said that! It seems a year ago," answered Meg, who was in a blissful dream lifted far above such common things as bread and butter.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The joys come close upon the sorrows this time, and I rather think the changes have begun," said Mrs. March. "In most families there comes, now and then, a year full of events. This has been such a one, but it ends well, after all."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hope the next will end better," muttered Jo, who found it very hard to see Meg absorbed in a stranger before her face, for Jo loved a few persons very dearly and dreaded to have their affection lost or lessened in any way. "I hope the third year from this will end better. I mean it shall, if I live to work out my plans," said Mr. Brooke, smiling at Meg, as if everything had become possible to him now.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Doesn't it seem very long to wait?" asked Amy, who was in a hurry for the wedding.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've got so much to learn before I shall be ready, it seems a short time to me," answered Meg, with a sweet gravity in her face never seen there before.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You have only to wait, I am to do the work," said John beginning his labors by picking up Meg's napkin, with an expression which caused Jo to shake her head, and then say to herself with an air of relief as the front door banged, "Here comes Laurie. Now we shall have some sensible conversation."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">But Jo was mistaken, for Laurie came prancing in, overflowing with good spirits, bearing a great bridal-looking bouquet for `Mrs. John Brooke', and evidently laboring under the delusion that the whole affair had been brought about by his excellent management.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I knew Brooke would have it all his own way, he always does, for when he makes up his mind to accomplish anything, it's done though the sky falls," said Laurie, when he had presented his offering and his congratulations.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Much obliged for that recommendation. I take it as a good omen for the future and invite you to my wedding on the spot," answered Mr. Brooke, who felt at peace with all mankind, even his mischievous pupil.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll come if I'm at the ens of the earth, for the sight of Jo's face alone on that occasion would be worth a long journey. You don't look festive, ma'am, what's the matter?" asked Laurie, following her into a corner of the parlor, whither all had adjourned to greet Mr. Laurence.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't approve of the match, but I've made up my mind to bear it, and shall not say a word against it," said Jo solemnly. "You can't know how hard it is for me to give up Meg," she continued with a little quiver in her voice. "You don't give her up. You only go halves," said Laurie consolingly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It can never be the same again. I've lost my dearest friend," sighed Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You've got me, anyhow. I'm not good for much, I know, but I'll stand by you, Jo, all the days of my life. Upon my word I will!" And Laurie meant what he said.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I know you will, and I'm ever so much obliged. You are always a great comfort to me, Teddy," returned Jo, gratefully shaking hands. "Well, now, don't be dismal, there's a good fellow. It's all right you see. Meg is happy, Brooke will fly round and get settled immediately, Grandpa will attend to him, and it will be very jolly to see Meg in her own little house. We'll have capital times after she is gone, for I shall be through college before long, and then we'll go abroad on some nice trip or other. Wouldn't that console you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I rather think it would, but there's no knowing what may happen in three years," said Jo thoughtfully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's true. Don't you wish you could take a look forward and wee where we shall all be then? I do," returned Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I think not, for I might see something sad, and everyone looks so happy now, I don't believe they could be much improved." And Jo's eyes went slowly round the room, brightening as they looked, for the prospect was a pleasant one.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Father and Mother sat together, quietly reliving the first chapter of the romance which for them began some twenty years ago. Amy was drawing the lovers, who sat apart in a beautiful world of their own, the light of which touched their faces with a grace the little artist could not copy. Beth lay on her sofa, talking cheerily with her old friend, who held her little hand as if he felt that it possessed the power to lead him along the peaceful way she walked. Jo lounged in her favorite low seat, with the grave quiet look which best became her, and Laurie, leaning on the back of her chair, his chin on a level with her curly head, smiled with his friendliest aspect, and nodded at her in the long glass which reflected them both.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">So the curtain falls upon Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. Whether it ever rises again, depends upon the reception giveN the first act of the domestic drama called LITTLE WOMEN.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-8662559430504875662022-08-02T11:03:00.003+05:302022-08-02T11:03:22.854+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER TWENTY - TWO - Pleasant Meadows - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Like sunshine after a storm were the peaceful weeks which followed. The invalids improved rapidly, and Mr. March began to talk or returning early in the new year. Beth was soon able to lie on the study sofa all day, amusing herself with the well-beloved cats at first, and in time with doll's sewing, which had fallen sadly behindhand. Her once active limbs were so stiff and feeble that Jo took her for a daily airing about the house in her strong arms. Meg cheerfully blackened and burned her white hands cooking delicate messes for `the dear', while Amy, a loyal slave of the ring, celebrated her return by giving away as many of her treasures as she could prevail on her sisters to accept.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As Christmas approached, the usual mysteries began to haunt the house, and Jo frequently convulsed the family by proposing utterly impossible or magnificently absurd ceremonies, in honor of this unusually merry Christmas. Laurie was equally impracticable, and would have had bonfires, skyrockets, and triumphal arches, if he had had his own way. After many skirmishes and snubbings, the ambitious pair were considered effectually quenched and went about with forlorn faces, which were rather belied by explosions of laughter when the two got together.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CKTv05K3p_kCFbbETAIdU34PJw" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.9~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418389&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-two-pleasant-meadows&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416785425&bpp=3&bdt=886&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=102458413187&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416785&ga_hid=1938322437&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1338&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44760912%2C31068669%2C44769952&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPJ5xXpzIWbpk0ypZ_3x67rGTb6MBRPxc82ULDfbyouHwAukKjtAHdnoUaRHDvdxHDmjnlyh5QJKOH2m&pvsid=1753797494372914&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=XljqG7XttX&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Several days of unusually mild weather fitly ushered in a splendid Christmas Day. Hannah `felt in her bones' that it was going to be an unusually fine day, and she proved herself a true prophetess, for everybody and everything seemed bound to produce a grand success. To begin with, Mr. March wrote that he should soon be with them, then Beth felt uncommonly well that morning, and, being dressed in her mother's gift, a soft crimson merino wrapper, was borne in high triumph to the window to behold the offering of Jo and Laurie. The Unquenchables had done their best to be worthy of the name, for like elves they had worked by night and conjured up a comical surprise. Out in the garden stood a stately snow maiden, crowned with holly, bearing a basket of fruit and flowers in one hand, a great roll of music in the other, a perfect rainbow of an Afghan round her chilly shoulders, and a Christmas carol issuing from her lips on a pink paper streamer.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">THE JUNGFRAU TO BETH</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">God bless you, dear Queen Bess! May nothing you dismay, But health and peace and happiness Be yours, this Christmas day. Here's fruit to feed our busy bee, And flowers for her nose. Here's music for her pianee, An afghan for her toes,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A portrait of Joanna, see, By Raphael No. 2, Who laboured with great industry To make it fair and true.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Accept a ribbon red, I beg, For Madam Purrer's tail, And ice cream made by lovely Peg, A Mont Blanc in a pail.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CKOJ_ZK3p_kCFZOUwgodJQUN4g" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.14~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418390&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-two-pleasant-meadows&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpM1uFAytZikFNwdTB9te4XkX_hRkgl5_uFF7lhHctC3KlgP2iAsgx03QAoxFAAOhoq8Xx2K8TPTi&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416785437&bpp=4&bdt=899&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=102458413187&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416785&ga_hid=1938322437&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1923&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=110&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44760912%2C31068669%2C44769952&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPJ5xXpzIWbpk0ypZ_3x67rGTb6MBRPxc82ULDfbyouHwAukKjtAHdnoUaRHDvdxHDmjnlyh5QJKOH2m&pvsid=1753797494372914&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=qd207iego3&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Their dearest love my makers laid Within my breast of snow. Accept it, and the Alpine maid, From Laurie and from Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">How Beth laughed when she saw it, how Laurie ran up and down to bring in the gifts, and what ridiculous speeches Jo made as she presented them.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm so full of happiness, that if Father was only here, I couldn't hold one drop more," said Beth, quite sighing with contentment as Jo carried her off to the study to rest after the excitement, and to refresh herself with some of the delicious grapes the `Jungfrau' had sent her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So am I," added Jo, slapping the pocket wherein reposed the long-desired UNDINE AND SINTRAM.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm sure I am," echoed Amy, poring over the engraved copy of the Madonna and Child, which her mother had given her in a pretty frame.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course I am!" cried Meg, smoothing the silvery folds of her first sild dress, for Mr. Laurence had insisted on giving it. "How can I be otherwise?" said Mrs. March gratefully, as her eyes went from her husband's letter to Beth's smiling face, and her hand carressed the brooch made of gray and golden, chestnut and dark brown hair, which the girls had just fastened on her breast.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Now and then, in this workaday world, things do happen in the delightful storybook fashion, and what a comfort it is. Half an hour after everyone had said they were so happy they could only hold one drop more, the drop came. Laurie opened the parlor door and popped his head in very quietly. He might just as well have turned a somersault and uttered an Indian war whoop, for his face was so full of suppressed excitement and his voice so treacherously joyful that everyone jumped up, though he only said, in a queer, breathless voice, "Here's another Christmas present for the March family."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="CLek2p23p_kCFcFCYAodyNQENg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.21~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418412&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-two-pleasant-meadows&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpM1uFAytZikFNwdTB9te4XkX_hRkgl5_uFF7lhHctC3KlgP2iAsgx03QAoxFAAOhoq8Xx2K8TPTi&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416785470&bpp=21&bdt=932&idt=21&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=102458413187&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416785&ga_hid=1938322437&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2628&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=830&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44760912%2C31068669%2C44769952&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPJ5xXpzIWbpk0ypZ_3x67rGTb6MBRPxc82ULDfbyouHwAukKjtAHdnoUaRHDvdxHDmjnlyh5QJKOH2m&pvsid=1753797494372914&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=BtmxBBLsd3&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Before the words were well out of his mouth, he was whisked away somehow, and in his place appeared a tall man, muffled up to the eyes, leaning on the arm of another tall man, who tried to say something and couldn't. Of course there was a general stampede, and for several minutes everybody seemed to lose their wits, for the strangest things were done, and no one said a word.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. March became invisible in the embrace of four pairs of loving arms. Jo disgraced herself by nearly fainting away, and had to be doctored by Laurie in the china closet. Mr. Brooke kissed Meg entirely by mistake, as he somewhat incoherently explained. And Amy, the dignified, tumbled over a stool, and never stopping to get up, hugged and cried over her father's boots in the most touching manner. Mrs. March was the first to recover herself, and held up her hand with a warning, "Hush! Remember Beth."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">But it was too late. The study door flew open, the little red wrapper appeared on the threshold, joy put strength into the feeble limbs, and Beth ran straight into her father's arms. Never mind what happened just after that, for the full hearts overflowed, washing away the bitterness of the past and leaving only the sweetness of the present.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It was not at all romantic, but a hearty laugh set everybody straight again, for Hannah was discovered behind the door, sobbing over the fat turkey, which she had forgotten to put down when she rushed up from the kitchen. As the laugh subsided, Mrs. March began to thank Mr. Brooke for his faithful care of her husband, at which Mr. Brooke suddenly remembered that Mr. March needed rest, and seizing Laurie, he precipitately retired. Then the two invalids were ordered to repose, which they did, by both sitting in one big chair and talking hard.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. March told how he had longed to surprise them, and how, when the fine weather came, he had been allowed by his doctor, to take advantage of it, how devoted Brooke had been, and how he was altogether a most estimable and upright young man. Why Mr. March paused a minute just there, and after a glance at Meg, who was violently poking the fire, looked at his wife with an inquiring lift of the eyebrows, I leave you to imagine. Also why Mrs. March gently nodded her head and asked, rather abruptly, if he wouldn't like to have something to eat. Jo saw and understood the look, and she stalked grimly away to get wine and beef tea, muttering to herself as she slammed the door, "I hate estimable young men with brown eyes!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">There never was such a Christmas dinner as they had that day. The fat turkey was a sight to behold, when Hannah sent him up, stuffed, browned, and decorated. So was the plum pudding, which melted in one's mouth, likewise the jellies, in which Amy reveled like a fly in a honeypot. Everything turned out well, which was a mercy, Hannah said, "For my mind was that flustered, Mum, that it's a merrycle I didn't roast the pudding, and stuff the turkey with raisins, let alone bilin' of it in a cloth."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. Laurence and his grandson dined with them, also Mr. Brooke, at whom Jo glowered darkly, to Laurie's infinite amusement. Two easy chairs stood side by side at the head of the table, in which sat Beth and her father, feasting modestly on chicken and a little fruit. They drank healths, told stories, sang songs,</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CMbDn563p_kCFYjxTAIdISUM2g" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.28~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418413&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-two-pleasant-meadows&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpM1uFAytZikFNwdTB9te4XkX_hRkgl5_uFF7lhHctC3KlgP2iAsgx03QAoxFAAOhoq8Xx2K8TPTi&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416785509&bpp=3&bdt=971&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=102458413187&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416785&ga_hid=1938322437&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3753&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=1962&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44760912%2C31068669%2C44769952&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPJ5xXpzIWbpk0ypZ_3x67rGTb6MBRPxc82ULDfbyouHwAukKjtAHdnoUaRHDvdxHDmjnlyh5QJKOH2m&pvsid=1753797494372914&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=doX1gXK5L9&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`reminisced', as the old folks say, and had a thoroughly good time. A sleigh ride had been planned, but the girls would not leave their father, so the guests departed early, and as twilight gathered, the happy family sat together round the fire.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Just a year ago we were groaning over the dismal Christmas we expected to have. Do you remember?" asked Jo, breaking a short pause which had followed a long conversation about many things.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Rather a pleasant year on the whole!" said Meg, smiling at the fire, and congratulating herself on having treated Mr. Brooke with dignity.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I think it's been a pretty hard one," observed Amy, watching the light shine on her ring with thoughtful eyes.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"i'm glad it's over, because we've got you back," whispered Beth, who sat on her father's knee.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Rather a rough road for you to travel, my little pilgrims, especially the latter part of it. But you have got on bravely, and I think the burdens are in a fair way to tumble off very soon," said Mr. March, looking with fatherly satisfaction at the four young faces gathered round him.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How do you know? Did Mother tell you?' asked Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not much. Straws show which way the wind blows, and I've made several discoveries today."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, tell us what they are!" cried Meg, who sat beside him.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here is one." And taking up the hand which lay on the arm of his chair, he pointed to the roughened forefinger, a burn on the back, and two or three little hard spots on the palm. "I remember a time when this hand was white and smooth, and your first care was to keep it so. It was very pretty then, but to me it is much prettier now, for in this seeming blemishes I read a little history. A burnt offering has been made to vanity, this hardened palm has earned something better than blisters, and I'm sure the sewing done by these pricked fingers will last a long time, so much good will went into the stitches. Meg, my dear, I value the womanly skill which keeps home happy more than white hands or fashionable accomplishments. I'm proud to shake this good, industrious little hand, and hope I shall not soon be asked to give it away."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">If Meg had wanted a reward for hours of patient labor, she received it in the hearty pressure of her father's hand and the approving smile he gave her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What about Jo? Please say something nice, for she has tried so hard and been so very, very good to me," said Beth in her father's ear.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">He laughed and looked across at the tall girl who sat opposite, with and unusually mild expression in her face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"In spite of the curly crop, I don't see the `son Jo' whom I left a year ago," said Mr. March. "I see a young lady who pins her collar straight, laces her boots neatly, and neither whistles, talks slang, nor lies on the rug as she used to do. Her face is rather thin and pale just now, with watching and anxiety, but I like to look at it, for it has grown gentler, and her voice is lower. She doesn't bounce, but moves quietly, and takes care of a certain little person in a motherly way which delights me. I rather miss my wild girl, but if I get a strong, helpful, tenderhearted woman in her place, I shall feel quite satisfied. I don't know whether the shearing sobered our black sheep, but I do know that in all Washington I couldn't find anything beautiful enough to be bought with the five-and-twenty dollars my good girl sent me."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CJm-3563p_kCFfPsTAIdY7ACBA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.42~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418414&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-two-pleasant-meadows&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpM1uFAytZikFNwdTB9te4XkX_hRkgl5_uFF7lhHctC3KlgP2iAsgx03QAoxFAAOhoq8Xx2K8TPTi&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416785521&bpp=3&bdt=982&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=102458413187&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416785&ga_hid=1938322437&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=5103&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=3302&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44760912%2C31068669%2C44769952&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPJ5xXpzIWbpk0ypZ_3x67rGTb6MBRPxc82ULDfbyouHwAukKjtAHdnoUaRHDvdxHDmjnlyh5QJKOH2m&pvsid=1753797494372914&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=lkyox95esV&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo's keen eyes were rather dim for a minute, and her thin face grew rosy in the firelight as she received her father's praise, feeling that she did deserve a portion of it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now, Beth," said Amy, longing for her turn, but ready to wait.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There's so little of her, I'm afraid to say much, for fear she will slip away altogether, though she is not so shy as she used to be," began their father cheerfully. But recollecting how nearly he had lost her, he held her close, saying tenderly, with her cheek against his own, "I've got you safe, my Beth, and I'll keep you so, please God."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">After a minute's silence, he looked down at Amy, who sat on the cricket at his feet, and said, with a caress of the shining hair...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I observed that Amy took drumsticks at dinner, ran errands for her mother all the afternoon, gave Meg her place tonight, and has waited on every on with patience and good humor. I also observe that she does not fret much nor look in the glass, and has not even mentioned a very pretty ring which she wears, so I conclude that she has learned to think of other people more and of herself less, and has decided to try and mold her character as carefully as she molds her little clay figures. I am glad of this, for though I should be very proud of a graceful statue made by her, I shall be infinitely prouder of a lovable daughter with a talent for making life beautiful to herself and others."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What are you thinking of, Beth?" asked Jo, when Amy had thanked her father and told about her ring.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I read in PILGRIM'S PROGRESS today how, after many troubles, christian and Hopeful came to a pleasant green meadow where lilies bloomed all year round, and there they rested happily, as we do now, before they went on to their journey's end," answered Beth, adding, as she slipped out of her father's arms and went to the instrument, "It's singing time now, and I want to be in my old place. I'll try to sing the song of the shepherd boy which the Pilgrims heard. I made the music for Father, because he likes the verses."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">So, sitting at the dear little piano, Beth softly touched the keys, and in the sweet voice they had never thought to hear again, sang to her own accompaniment the quaint hymn, which was a singularly fitting song for her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">He that is down need fear no fall, He that is low no pride. He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I am content with what I have, Little be it, or much. And, Lord! Contentment still I crave, Because Thou savest such.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Fulness to them a burden is, That go on pilgrimage. Here little, and hereafter bliss, Is best from age to age!</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-40035417152894868392022-08-02T11:02:00.007+05:302022-08-02T11:02:46.925+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER TWENTY - ONE - Laurie Makes Mischief, and Jo Makes Peace - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Jo's face was a study next day, for the secret rather weighed upon her, and she found it hard not to look mysterious and important. Meg observed it, but did not trouble herself to make inquiries, for she had learned that the best way to manage Jo was by the law of contraries, so she felt sure of being told everything if she did not ask. She was rather surprised, therefore, when the silence remained unbroken, and Jo assumed a patronizing air, which decidedly aggravated Meg, who in turn assumed an air of dignified reserve and devoted herself to her mother. This left Jo to her own devices, for Mrs. March had taken her place as nurse, and bade her rest, exercise, and amuse herself after her long confinement. Amy being gone, Laurie was her only refuge, and much as she enjoyed his society, she rather dreaded him just then, for he was an incorrigible tease, and she feared he would coax the secret from her.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She was quite right, for the mischief-loving lad no sooner suspected a mystery than he set himself to find it out, and led Jo a trying life of it. He wheedled, bribed, ridiculed, threatened, and scolded; affected indifference, that he might surprise the truth from her; declared her knew, then that he didn't care; and at last, by dint of perseverance, he satisfied himself that it concerned Meg and Mr. Brooke. Feeling indignant that he was not taken into his tutor's confidence, he set his wits to work to devise some proper retaliation for the slight.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CLLoh4C3p_kCFdomYAodDFwHSA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.9~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418350&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-one-laurie-makes-mischief-and-jo-makes-peace&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416784244&bpp=5&bdt=715&idt=5&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=8570228838094&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416784&ga_hid=1593625699&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1078&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31067983%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=1312699643092531&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=jAyHi50Kze&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg meanwhile had apparently forgotten the matter and was absorbed in preparations for her father's return, but all of a sudden a change seemed to come over her, and, for a day or two, she was quite unlike herself. She started when spoken to, blushed when looked at, was very quiet, and sat over her sewing, with a timid, troubled look on her face. To her mother's inquiries she answered that she was quite well, and Jo's she silenced by begging to be let alone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"She feels it in the air--love, I mean--and she's going very fast. She's got most of the symptoms--is twittery and cross, doesn't eat, lies awake, and mopes in corners. I caught her singing that song he gave her, and once she said `John', as you do, and then turned as red as a poppy. whatever shall we do?" said Jo, looking ready for any measures, however violent.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Nothing but wait. Let her alone, be kind and patient, and Father's coming will settle everything," replied her mother.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here's a note to you, Meg, all sealed up. How odd! Teddy never seals mine," said Jo next day, as she distributed the contents of the little post office.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March and Jo were deep in their own affairs, when a sound from Meg made them look up to see her staring at her note with a frightened face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My child, what is it?" cried her mother, running to her, while Jo tried to take the paper which had done the mischief.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CKqXnoC3p_kCFcVBYAodpxwNQA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.15~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418350&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-one-laurie-makes-mischief-and-jo-makes-peace&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMEYAP2UGLghPF7zLnuccek20Jf9-kFaQFTBIgvc7akeAHnh0qeeOF5kr6R4EHbHSyG0shS7ryK-&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416784265&bpp=4&bdt=736&idt=5&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=8570228838094&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416784&ga_hid=1593625699&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1678&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=69&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31067983%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=1312699643092531&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=OVWLLtScFz&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's all a mistake, he didn't send it. Oh, Jo, how could you do it?" and Meg hid her face in her hands, crying as if her heart were quite broken.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Me! I've done nothing! What's she talking about?" cried Jo, bewildered.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg's mild eyes kindled with anger as she pulled a crumpled note from her pocket and threw it at Jo, saying reproachfully, "You wrote it, and that bad boy helped you. How could you be so rude, so mean, and cruel to us both?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo hardly heard her, for she and her mother were reading the note, which was written in a peculiar hand.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My Dearest Margaret,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I can no longer restrain my passion, and must know my fate before I return. I dare not tell your parents yet, but I think they would consent if they knew that we adored one another. Mr. Laurence will help me to some good place, and then, my sweet girl, you will make me happy. I implore you to say nothing to your family yet, but to send one word of hope through Laurie to,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Your devoted John."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, the little villain! That's the way he meant to pay me for keeping my word to Mother. I'll give him a hearty scolding and bring him over to beg pardon," cried Jo, burning to execute immediate justice. But her mother held her back, saying, with a look she seldom wore...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Stop, Jo, you must clear yourself first. You have played so many pranks that I am afraid you have had a hand in this."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="CJOn5Iq3p_kCFctEYAodnzAFkg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.24~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418373&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-one-laurie-makes-mischief-and-jo-makes-peace&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMEYAP2UGLghPF7zLnuccek20Jf9-kFaQFTBIgvc7akeAHnh0qeeOF5kr6R4EHbHSyG0shS7ryK-&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416784289&bpp=5&bdt=761&idt=5&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=8570228838094&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416784&ga_hid=1593625699&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2353&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=550&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31067983%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=1312699643092531&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=E0xHgsKlWq&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"On my word, Mother, I haven't! I never saw that note before, and don't know anything about it, as true as I live!" said Jo, so earnestly that they believed her. "If I had taken part in it I'd have done it better than this, and have written a sensible note. I should think you'd have known Mr. Brooke wouldn't write such stuff as that," she added, scornfully tossing down the paper.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's like his writing," faltered Meg, comparing it with the note in her hand. "Oh, Meg, you didn't answer it?" cried Mrs. March quickly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, I did!" and Meg hid her face again, overcome with shame.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here's a scrape! Do let me bring that wicked boy over to explain and be lectured. I can't rest till I get hold of him." And Jo made for the door again.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hush! Let me handle this, for it is worse than I thought. Margaret, tell me the whole story," commanded Mrs. March, sitting down by Meg, yet keeping hold of Jo, lest she should fly off.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I received the first letter from Laurie, who didn't look as if he knew anything about it," began Meg, without looking up. "I was worried at first and meant to tell you, then I remembered how you liked Mr. Brooke, so I thought you wouldn't mind if I kept my little secret for a few days. I'm so silly that I liked to think no one knew, and while I was deciding what to say, I felt like the girls in books, who have such things to do. Forgive me, Mother, I'm paid for my silliness now. I never can look him in the face again."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What did you say to him?' asked Mrs. March.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I only said I was too young to do anything about it yet, that I didn't wish to have secrets from you, and he must speak to father. I was very grateful for his kindness, and would be his friend, but nothing more, for a long while."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March smiled, as if well pleased, and Jo clapped her hands, exclaiming, with a laugh, "You are almost equal to Caroline Percy, who was a pattern of prudence! Tell on, Meg. What did he say to that?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He writes in a different way entirely, telling me that he never sent any love letter at all, and is very sorry that my roguish sister, Jo, should take liberties with our names. It's very kind and respectful, but think how dreadful for me!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg leaned against her mother, looking the image of despair, and Jo tramped about the room, calling Laurie names. All of a sudden she stopped, caught up the two notes, and after looking at them closely, said decidedly, "I don't believe Brooke ever saw either of these letters. Teddy wrote both, and keeps yours to crow over me with because I wouldn't tell him my secret."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't have any secrets, Jo. Tell it to Mother and keep out of trouble, as I should have done," said Meg warningly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bless you, child! Mother told me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That will do, Jo. I'll comfort Meg while you go and get Laurie. I shall sift the matter to the bottom, and put a stop to such pranks at once." Away ran Jo, and Mrs. March gently told Meg Mr. Brooke's real feelings. "Now, dear, what are your own? Do you love him enough to wait till her can make a home for you, or will you keep yourself quite free for the present?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've been so scared and worried, I don't want to have anything to do with lovers for a long while, perhaps never,"</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CJ6rqYu3p_kCFVfGTAId-lEC5A" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.39~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418374&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-one-laurie-makes-mischief-and-jo-makes-peace&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMEYAP2UGLghPF7zLnuccek20Jf9-kFaQFTBIgvc7akeAHnh0qeeOF5kr6R4EHbHSyG0shS7ryK-&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416784314&bpp=3&bdt=785&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=8570228838094&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416784&ga_hid=1593625699&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3718&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=1951&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31067983%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=1312699643092531&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=VqQ4NFWpPn&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">answered Meg petulantly. "If John doesn't know anything about this nonsense, don't tell him, and make Jo and Laurie hold their tongues. I won't be deceived and plagued and made a fool of. It's a shame!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Seeing Meg's usually gentle temper was roused and her pride hurt by this mischievous joke, Mrs. March soothed her by promises of entire silence and great discretion for the future. The instant Laurie's step was heard in the hall, Meg fled into the study, and Mrs. March received the culprit alone. Jo had not told him why he was wanted, fearing he wouldn't come, but he knew the minute he saw Mrs. March's face, and stood twirling his hat with a guilty air which convicted him at once. Jo was dismissed, but chose to march up and down the hall like a sentinel, having some fear that the prisoner might bolt. The sound of voices in the parlor rose and fell for half an hour, but what happened during that interview the girls never knew.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When they were called in, Laurie was standing by their mother with such a penitent face that Jo forgave him on the spot, but did not think it wise to betray the fact. Meg received his humble apology, and was much comforted by the assurance that Brooke knew nothing of the joke.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll never tell him to my dying day, wild horses shan't drag it out of me, so you'll forgive me, Meg, and I'll do anything to show how out-and-out sorry I am," he added, looking very much ashamed of himself.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll try, but it was a very ungentlemanly thing to do, I didn't think you could be so sly and malicious, Laurie," replied Meg, trying to hid her maidenly confusion under a gravely reproachful air.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It was altogether abominable, and I don't deserve to be spoken to for a month, but you will, though, won't you?" And Laurie folded his hands together with such and imploring gesture, as he spoke in his irresistibly persuasive tone, that it was impossible to frown upon him in spite of his scandalous behavior.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg pardoned him, and Mrs. March's grave face relaxed, in spite of her efforts to keep sober, when she heard him declare that he would atone for his sins by all sorts of penances, and abase himself like a worm before the injured damsel.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo stood aloof, meanwhile, trying to harden her heart against him, and succeeding only in primming up her face into an expression of entire disapprobation. Laurie looked at her once or twice, but as she showed no sign of relenting, he felt injured, and turned his back on her till the others were done with him, when he made her a low bow and walked off without a word.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As soon as he had gone, she wished she had been more forgiving, and when Meg and her mother went upstairs, she felt lonely and longed for Teddy. After resisting for some time, she yielded to the impulse, and armed with a book to return, went over to the big house.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Is Mr. Laurence in?" asked Jo, of a housemaid, who was coming downstairs.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, Miss, but I don't believe he's seeable just yet."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why not? Is he ill?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"La, no Miss, but he's had a scene with Mr. Laurie, who is in one of his tantrums about something, which vexes the old gentleman, so I dursn't go nigh him."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Where is Laurie?'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Shut up in his room, and he won't answer, though I've been a-tapping. I don't know what's to become of the dinner, for it's ready, and there's no one to eat it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll go and see what the matter is. I'm not afraid of either of them."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CPqN94u3p_kCFQ1QYAodSIYG5w" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.55~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418375&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-one-laurie-makes-mischief-and-jo-makes-peace&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMEYAP2UGLghPF7zLnuccek20Jf9-kFaQFTBIgvc7akeAHnh0qeeOF5kr6R4EHbHSyG0shS7ryK-&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416784331&bpp=4&bdt=802&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=8570228838094&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416784&ga_hid=1593625699&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=5098&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=3353&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31067983%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=1312699643092531&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=W5fUsWugBe&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Up went Jo, and knocked smartly on the door of Laurie's little study.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Stop that, or I'll open the door and make you!" called out the young gentleman in a threatening tone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo immediately knocked again. The door flew open, and in she bounced before Laurie could recover from his surprise. Seeing that he really was out of temper, Jo, who knew how to manage him, assumed a contrite expression, and going artistically down upon her knees, said meekly, "Please forgive me for being so cross. I came to make it up, and can't go away till I have."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's all right. Get up, and don't be a goose, Jo," was the cavalier reply to her petition.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Thank you, I will. Could I ask what's the matter? You don't look exactly easy in your mind."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've been shaken, and I won't bear it!" growled Laurie indignantly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Who did it?" demanded Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Grandfather. If it had been anyone else I'd have..." And the injured youth finished his sentence by an energetic gesture of the right arm.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's nothing. I often shake you, and you don't mind," said Jo soothingly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Pooh! You're a girl, and it's fun, but I'll allow no man to shake me!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't think anyone would care to try it, if you looked as much like a thundercloud as you do now. Why were you treated so?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Just because I wouldn't say what your mother wanted me for. I'd promised not to tell, and of course I wasn't going to break my word."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Couldn't you satisfy your grandpa in any other way?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, he would have the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I'd have told my part of the scrape, if I could without bringing Meg in. As I couldn't, I held my tongue, and bore the scolding till the old gentleman collared me. Then I bolted, for fear I should forget myself."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It wasn't nice, but he's sorry, I know, so go down and make up. I'll help you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hanged if I do! I'm not going to be lectured and pummelled by everyone, just for a bit of a frolic. I was sorry about Meg, and begged pardon like a man, but I won't do it again, when I wasn't in the wrong."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He didn't know that."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He ought to trust me, and not act as if I was a baby. It's no use, Jo, he's got to learn that I'm able to take care of myself, and don't need anyone's apron string to hold on by." "What pepper pots you are! " sighed Jo. "How do you mean to settle this affair?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, he ought to beg pardon, and believe me when I say I can't tell him what the fuss's about."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bless you! He won't do that."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I won't go down till he does."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now, Teddy, be sensible. Let it pass, and I'll explain what I can. You can't stay here, so what's the use of being melodramatic?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't intend to stay here long, anyway. I'll slip off and take a journey somewhere, and when Grandpa misses me he'll come round fast enough." "I dare say, but you ought not to go and worry him."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't preach. I'll go to Washington and see Brooke. It's gay there, and I'll enjoy myself after the troubles."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What fun you'd have! I wish I could run off too," said Jo, forgetting her part of mentor in lively visions of martial life at the capital.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Come on, then! Why not? You go and surprise your father, and I'll stir up old Brooke. It would be a glorious joke. Let's do it, Jo. We'll leave a letter saying we are all right, and trot off at once. I've got money enough. It will do you good, and no harm, as you go to your father."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">For a moment Jo looked as if she would agree, for wild as the plan was, it just suited her. She was tired of care and confinement, longed for change, and thoughts of her father blended temptingly with the novel charms of camps and hospitals, liberty and fun. Her eyes kindled as they turned wistfully toward the window, but they fell on the old house opposite, and she shook her head with sorrowful decision.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_7_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_7_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!8" data-google-query-id="CNHXuIy3p_kCFSzNTAIdVl4KKg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_7" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_7" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=544027183&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.82~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418376&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-one-laurie-makes-mischief-and-jo-makes-peace&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMEYAP2UGLghPF7zLnuccek20Jf9-kFaQFTBIgvc7akeAHnh0qeeOF5kr6R4EHbHSyG0shS7ryK-&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416784364&bpp=4&bdt=835&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=7&correlator=8570228838094&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416784&ga_hid=1593625699&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=6883&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=5246&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31067983%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=1312699643092531&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=8&uci=a!8&btvi=6&fsb=1&xpc=r7GHZjOP3N&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If I was a boy, we'd run away together, and have a capital time, but as I'm a miserable girl, I must be proper and stop at home. Don't tempt me, Teddy, it's a crazy plan."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's the fun of it," began Laurie, who had got a willful fit on him and was possessed to break out of bounds in some way.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hold your tongue!" cried Jo, covering her ears. "`Prunes and prisms' are my doom, and I may as well make up my mind to it. I came here to moralize, not to hear things that make me skip to think of."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I know Meg would wet-blanket such a proposal, but I thought you had more spirit," began Laurie insinuatingly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bad boy, be quiet! Sit down and think of your own sins, don't go making me add to mine. If I get your grandpa to apologize for the shaking, will you give up running away?" asked Jo seriously.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, but you won't do it," answered Laurie, who wished to make up, but felt that his outraged dignity must be appeased first.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If I can manage the young one, I can the old one," muttered Jo, as she walked away, leaving Laurie bent over a railroad map with his head propped up on both hands.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Come in!" And Mr. Laurence's gruff voice sounded gruffer than ever, as Jo tapped at his door.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's only me, Sir, come to return a book," she said blandly, as she entered.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Want any more?" asked the old gentleman, looking grim and vexed, but trying not to show it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, please. I like old Sam so well, I think I'll try the second volume," returned Jo, hoping to propitiate him by accepting a second dose of Boswell's Johnson, as he had recommended that lively work.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The shaggy eyebrows unbent a little as he rolled the steps toward the shelf where the Johnsonian literature was placed. Jo skipped up, and sitting on the top step, affected to be searching for her book, but was really wondering how best to introduce the dangerous object of her visit. Mr. Laurence seemed to suspect that something was brewing in her mind, for after taking several brisk turns about the room, he faced round on her, speaking so abruptly that Rasselas tumbled face downward on the floor.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What has that boy been about? Don't try to shield him. I know he has been in mischief by the way he acted when he came home. I can't get a word from him, and when I threatened to shake the truth out of him he bolted upstairs and locked himself into his room."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He did wrong, but we forgave him, and all promised not to say a word to anyone," began Jo reluctantly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That won't do. He shall not shelter himself behind a promise from you softhearted girls. If he's done anything amiss, he shall confess, beg pardon, and be punished. Out with it, Jo. I won't be kept in the dark."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. Laurence looked so alarming and spoke so sharply that Jo would have gladly run away, if she could, but she was perched aloft on the steps, and he stood at the foot, a lion in the path, so she had to stay and brave it out.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Indeed, Sir, I cannot tell. Mother forbade it. Laurie has confessed, asked pardon, and been punished quite enough. We don't keep silence to shield him, but someone else, and it will make more trouble if you interfere. Please don't. It was partly my fault, but it's all right now. So let's forget it, and talk about the RAMBLER or something pleasant."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hang the RAMBLER! Come down and give me your word that this harum-scarum boy of mine hasn't done anything ungrateful or impertinent. If he has, after all your kindness to him, I'll thrash him with my own hands."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The threat sounded awful, but did not alarm Jo, for she knew the irascible old gentleman would never lift a finger against his grandson, whatever he might say to the contrary. She obediently descended, and made as light of the prank as she could without betraying Meg or forgetting the truth.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hum... ha... well, if the boy held his tongue because he promised, and not from obstinacy, I'll forgive him. He's a stubborn fellow and hard to manage," said Mr. Laurence, rubbing up his hair till it looked as if he had been out in a gale, and smoothing the frown from his brow with an air of relief.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_8_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_8_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!9" data-google-query-id="CMfz-Iy3p_kCFVfPTAIdLJsAgg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_8" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_8" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=879892236&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.102~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418377&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-one-laurie-makes-mischief-and-jo-makes-peace&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpMEYAP2UGLghPF7zLnuccek20Jf9-kFaQFTBIgvc7akeAHnh0qeeOF5kr6R4EHbHSyG0shS7ryK-&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416784388&bpp=2&bdt=859&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=8&correlator=8570228838094&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416784&ga_hid=1593625699&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=8563&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=6749&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31067983%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=1312699643092531&tmod=835622849&uas=1&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=9&uci=a!9&btvi=7&fsb=1&xpc=FrjSuXNgNw&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So am I, but a kind word will govern me when all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't," said Jo, trying to say a kind word for her friend, who seemed to get out of one scrape only to fall into another.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You think I'm not kind to him, hey?" was the sharp answer.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, dear no, Sir. You are rather too kind sometimes, and then just a trifle hasty when he tries your patience. Don't you think you are?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo was determined to have it out now, and tried to look quite placid, though she quaked a little after her bold speech. To her great relief and surprise, the old gentleman only threw his spectacles onto the table with a rattle and exclaimed frankly, "You're right, girl, I am! I love the boy, but he tries my patience past bearing, and I know how it will end, if we go on so."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll tell you, he'll run away." Jo was sorry for that speech the minute it was made. She meant to warn him that Laurie would not bear much restraint, and hoped he would be more forebearing with the lad.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. Laurence's ruddy face changed suddenly, and he sat down, with a troubled glance at the picture of a handsome man, which hung over his table. It was Laurie's father, who had run away in his youth, and married against the imperious old man's will. Jo fancied her remembered and regretted the past, and she wished she had held her tongue.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He won't do it unless he is very much worried, and only threatens it sometimes, when he gets tired of studying. I often think I should like to, especially since my hair was cut, so if you ever miss us, you may advertise for two boys and look among the ships bound for India."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She laughed as she spoke, and Mr. Laurence looked relieved, evidently taking the whole as a joke.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You hussy, how dare you talk in that way? Where's your respect for me, and your proper bringing up? Bless the boys and girls! What torments they are, yet we can't do without them," he said, pinching her cheeks good-humoredly. "Go and bring that boy down to his dinner, tell him it's all right, and advise him not to put on tragedy airs with his grandfather. I won't bear it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He won't come, Sir. He feels badly because you didn't believe him when he said he couldn't tell. I think the shaking hurt his feelings very much."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo tried to look pathetic but must have failed, for Mr. Laurence began to laugh, and she knew the day was won.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm sorry for that, and ought to thank him for not shaking me, I suppose. What the dickens does the fellow expect?" And the old gentleman looked a trifle ashamed of his own testiness.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If I were you, I'd write him an apology, Sir. He says he won't come down till he has one, and talks about Washington, and goes on in an absurd way. A formal apology will make him see how foolish he is, and bring him down quite amiable. Try it. He likes fun, and this was is better than talking. I'll carry it up, and teach him his duty."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. Laurence gave her a sharp look, and put on his spectacles, saying slowly, "You're a sly puss, but I don't mind being managed by you and Beth. Here, give me a bit of paper, and let us have done with this nonsense."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The note was written in the terms which one gentleman would use to another after offering some deep insult. Jo dropped a kiss on the top of Mr. Laurence's bald head, and ran up to slip the apology under Laurie's door, advising him through the keyhole to be submissive, decorous, and a few other agreeable impossibilities. Finding the door locked again, she left the note to do its work, and was going quietly away, when the young gentleman slid down the banisters, and waited for her at the bottom, saying, with his most virtuous expression of countenance, "What a good fellow you are, Jo! Did you get blown up?" he added, laughing.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, he was pretty mild, on the whole."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"AH! I got it all round. Even you cast me off over there, and I felt just ready to go to the deuce," he began apologetically.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't talk that way, turn over a new leaf and begin again, Teddy, my son."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I keep turning over new leaves, and spoiling them, as I used to spoil my copybooks, and I make so many beginnings there never will be an end," he said dolefully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Go and eat your dinner, you'll feel better after it. Men always croak when they are hungry," and Jo whisked out at the front door after that.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's a `label' on my `sect'," answered Laurie, quoting Amy, as he went to partake of humble pie dutifully with his grandfather, who was quite saintly in temper and overwhelmingly respectful in manner all the rest of the day.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Everyone thought the matter ended and the little cloud blown over, but the mischief was done, for though others forgot it, Meg remembered. She never alluded to a certain person, but she thought of him a good deal, dreamed dreams more than ever, and once Jo, rummaging her sister's desk for stamps, found a bit of paper scribbled over with the words, `Mrs. John Brooke', whereat she groaned tragically and cast it into the fire, feeling that Laurie's prank had hastened the evil day for her.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-69769650730334897952022-08-02T11:02:00.001+05:302022-08-02T11:02:07.018+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER TWENTY - Confidential - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">I don't think I have any words in which to tell the meeting of the mother and daughters. Such hours are beautiful to live, but very hard to describe, so I will leave it to the imagination of my readers, merely saying that the house was full of genuine happiness, and that Meg's tender hope was realized, for when Beth woke from that long, healing sleep, the first objects on which her eyes fell were the little rose and Mother's face. Too weak to wonder at anything, she only smiled and nestled close in the loving arms about her, feeling that the hungry longing was satisfied at last. Then she slept again, and the girls waited upon their mother, for she would not unclasp the thin hand which clung to hers even in sleep.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Hannah had `dished up' and astonishing breakfast for the traveler, finding it impossible to vent her excitement in any other way, and Meg and Jo fed their mother like dutiful young storks, while they listened to her whispered account of Father's state, Mr. Brooke's promise to stay and nurse him, the delays which the storm occasioned on the homeward journey, and the unspeakable comfort Laurie's hopeful face had given her when she arrived, worn out with fatigue, anxiety, and cold.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CIHlw-y2p_kCFS_DFgUdz_cE7A" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.9~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418309&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-confidential&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416789772&bpp=3&bdt=1325&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=2069109303884&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416789&ga_hid=1891280919&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=968&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068226%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=2724699765235917&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=ELuV0lJ6s3&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">What a strange yet pleasant day that was. So brilliant and gay without, for all the world seemed abroad to welcome the first snow. So quiet and reposeful within, for everyone slept, spent with watching, and a Sabbath stillness reigned through the house, while nodding Hannah mounted guard at the door. With a blissful sense of burdens lifted off, Meg and Jo closed their weary eyes, and lay at rest, like storm-beaten boats safe at anchor in a quiet harbor. Mrs. March would not leave Beth's side, but rested in the big chair, waking often to look at, touch, and brood over her child, like a miser over some recovered treasure.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie meanwhile posted off to comfort Amy, and told his story so well that Aunt March actually `sniffed' herself, and never once said "I told you so". Amy came out so strong on this occasion that I think the good thoughts in the little chapel really began to bear fruit. She dried her tears quickly, restrained her impatience to see her mother, and never even thought of the turquoise ring, when the old lady heartily agreed in Laurie's opinion, that she behaved `like a capital little woman'. Even Polly seemed impressed, for he called her a good girl, blessed her buttons, and begged her to "come and take a walk, dear", in his most affable tone. She would very gladly have gone out to enjoy the bright wintry weather, but discovering that Laurie was dropping with sleep in spite of manful efforts to conceal the fact, she persuaded him to rest on the sofa, while she wrote a note to her mother. She was a long time about it, and when she returned, he was stretched out with both arms under his head, sound asleep, while Aunt March had pulled down the curtains and sat doing nothing in an unusual fit of benignity.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">After a while, they began to think he was not going to wake up till night, and I'm not sure that he would, had he not been effectually roused by Amy's cry of joy at sight of her mother. There probably were a good many happy little girls in and about the city that day, but it is my private opinion that Amy was the happiest of all, when she sat in her mother's lap and told her trials, receiving consolation and compensation in the shape of approving smiles and fond caresses. They were alone together in the chapel, to which her mother did not object when its purpose was explained to her.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CILE2ey2p_kCFRmllgodiSsDsQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.12~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418309&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-confidential&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpIjknYpnYyCDhuL5w-CuCbeWMmbsT8y2xB7M12lX9gU9GBSS5bSBzdXtcrhvmQ91XGHtgDIN12qy&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416789783&bpp=2&bdt=1336&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=2069109303884&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416789&ga_hid=1891280919&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1703&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068226%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=2724699765235917&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=3GniyIdRWB&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"On the contrary, I like it very much, dear," looking from the dusty rosary to the well-worn little book, and the lovely picture with its garland of evergreen. "It is an excellent plan to have some place where we can go to be quiet, when things vex or grieve us. There are a good many hard times in this life of ours, but we can always bear them if we ask help in the right way. I think my little girl is learning this."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, Mother, and when I go home I mean to have a corner in the big closet to put my books and the copy of that picture which I've tried to make. The woman's face is not good, it's too beautiful for me to draw, but the baby is done better, and I love it very much. I like to think He was a little child once, for then I don't seem so far away, and that helps me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As Amy pointed to the smiling Christ child on his Mother's knee, Mrs. March saw something on the lifted hand that made her smile. She said nothing, but Amy understood the look, and after a minute's pause, she added gravely, "I wanted to speak to you about this, but I forgot it. Aunt gave me the ring today. She called me to her and kissed me, and put it on my finger, and said I was a credit to her, and she'd like to keep me always. She gave that funny guard to keep the turquoise on, as it's too big. I'd like to wear them Mother, can I?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"They are very pretty, but I think you're rather too young for such ornaments, Amy," said Mrs. March, looking at the plump little hand, with the band of sky-blue stones on the forefinger, and the quaint guard formed of two tiny golden hands clasped together.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="CP2UmPi2p_kCFQvSlgodLqAJtQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.16~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418334&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-confidential&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpIjknYpnYyCDhuL5w-CuCbeWMmbsT8y2xB7M12lX9gU9GBSS5bSBzdXtcrhvmQ91XGHtgDIN12qy&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416789793&bpp=2&bdt=1346&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=2069109303884&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416789&ga_hid=1891280919&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2273&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=468&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068226%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=2724699765235917&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=c9oGP1LJ8Y&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll try not to be vain," said Amy. "I don't think I like it only because it's so pretty, but I want to wear it as the girl in the story wore her bracelet, to remind me of something."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you mean Aunt March?" asked her mother, laughing.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, to remind me not to be selfish." Amy looked so earnest and sincere about it that her mother stopped laughing, and listened respectfully to the little plan.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've thought a great deal lately about my `bundle of naughties', and being selfish is the largest one in it, so I'm going to try hard to cure it, if I can. Beth isn't selfish, and that's the reason everyone loves her and feels so bad at the thoughts of losing her. People wouldn't feel so bat about me if I was sick, and I don't deserve to have them, but I'd like to be loved and missed by a great many friends, so I'm going to try and be like Beth all I can. I'm apt to forget my resolutions, but if I had something always about me to remind me, I guess I should do better. May we try this way?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, but I have more faith in the corner of the big closet. Wear your ring, dear, and do your best. I think you will prosper, for the sincere wish to be good is half the battle. Now I must go back to Beth. Keep up your heart, little daughter, and we will soon have you home again."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">That evening while Meg was writing to her father to report the traveler's safe arrival, Jo slipped upstairs into Beth's room, and finding her mother in her usual place, stood a minute twisting her fingers in her hair, with a worried gesture and an undecided look.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What is it, deary?' asked Mrs. March, holding out her hand, with a face which invited confidence.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I want to tell you something, Mother."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"About Meg?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How quickly you guessed! Yes, it's about her, and though it's a little thing, it fidgets me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Beth is asleep. Speak low, and tell me all about it. That Moffat hasn't been here, I hope?" asked Mrs. March rather sharply.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No. I should have shut the door in his face if he had," said Jo, settling herself on the floor at her mother's feet. "Last summer Meg left a pair of gloves over at the Laurences' and only one was returned. We forgot about it, till Teddy told me that Mr. Brooke owned that he liked Meg but didn't dare say so, she was so young and he so poor. Now, isn't it a dreadful state of things?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you think Meg cares for him?" asked Mrs. March, with an anxious look.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mercy me! I don't know anything about love and such nonsense!" cried Jo, with a funny mixture of interest and contempt. "In novels, the girls show it by starting and blushing, fainting away, growing thin, and acting like fools. Now Meg does not do anything of the sort. She eats and drinks and sleeps like a sensible creature, she looks straight in my face when I talk about that man, and only blushes a little bit when Teddy jokes about lovers. I forbid him to do it, but he doesn't mind me as he ought."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CJbBzPi2p_kCFYfTlgodhhkM4g" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.30~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418334&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-confidential&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpIjknYpnYyCDhuL5w-CuCbeWMmbsT8y2xB7M12lX9gU9GBSS5bSBzdXtcrhvmQ91XGHtgDIN12qy&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416789802&bpp=2&bdt=1355&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=2069109303884&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416789&ga_hid=1891280919&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3473&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=1672&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068226%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=2724699765235917&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=BEC7ni0o7q&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then you fancy that Meg is not interested in John?'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Who?" cried Jo, staring.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mr. Brooke. I call him `John' now. We fell into the way of doing so at the hospital, and he likes it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, dear! I know you'll take his part. He's been good to Father, and you won't send him away, but let Meg marry him, if she wants to. Mean thing! To go petting Papa and helping you, just to wheedle you into liking him." And Jo pulled her hair again with a wrathful tweak.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My dear, don't get angry about it, and I will tell you how it happened. John went with me at Mr. Laurence's request, and was so devoted to poor Father that we couldn't help getting fond of him. He was perfectly open and honorable about Meg, for he told us he loved her, but would earn a comfortable home before he asked her to marry him. He only wanted our leave to love her and work for her, and the right to make her love him if he could. He is a truly excellent young man, and we could not refuse to listen to him, but I will not consent to Meg's engaging herself so young."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course not. It would be idiotic! I knew there was mischief brewing. I felt it, and now it's worse than I imagined. I just wish I could marry Meg myself, and keep her safe in the family."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">This odd arrangement made Mrs. March smile, but she said gravely, "Jo, I confide in you and don't wish you to say anything to Meg yet. When John comes back, and I see them together, I can judge better of her feelings toward him."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"She'll see those handsome eyes that she talks about, and then it will be all up with her. She's got such a soft heart, it will melt like butter in the sun if anyone looks sentimentlly at her. She read the short reports he sent more than she did your letters, and pinched me when I spoke of it, and likes brown eyes, and doesn't think John an ugly name, and she'll go and fall in love, and there's an end of peace and fun, and cozy times together. I see it all! They'll go lovering around the house, and we shall have to dodge. Meg will be absorbed and no good to me any more. Brooke will scratch up a fortune somehow, carry her off, and make a hole in the family, and I shall break my heart, and everything will be abominably uncomfortable. Oh, dear me! Why weren't we all boys, then there wouldn't be any bother."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo leaned her chin on her knees in a disconsolate attitude and shook her fist at the reprehensible John. Mrs. March sighed, and Jo looked up with an air of relief.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You don't like it, Mother? I'm glad of it. Let's send him about his business, and not tell Meg a word of it, but all be happy together as we always have been."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I did wrong to sigh, Jo. It is natural and right you should all go to homes of your own in time, but I do want to keep my girls as long as I can, and I am sorry that this happened so soon, for Meg is only seventeen and it will be some years before John can make a home for her. Your father and I have agreed that she shall not bind herself in any way, nor be married, before twenty. If she and John love one another, they can wait, and test the love by doing so. She is conscientious, and I have no fear of her treating him unkindly. My pretty, tender hearted girl! I hope things will go happily with her."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="COmR-vi2p_kCFQ3IFgUdiyIOHA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.41~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418335&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twenty-confidential&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpIjknYpnYyCDhuL5w-CuCbeWMmbsT8y2xB7M12lX9gU9GBSS5bSBzdXtcrhvmQ91XGHtgDIN12qy&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416789812&bpp=3&bdt=1365&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=2069109303884&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416789&ga_hid=1891280919&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=4688&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=2919&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068487%2C31068226%2C31068669&oid=2&pvsid=2724699765235917&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=75jULjfIeG&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hadn't you rather have her marry a rich man?" asked Jo, as her mother's voice faltered a little over the last words.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Money is a good and useful thing, Jo, and I hope my girls will never feel the need of it too bitterly not be tempted by too much. I should like to know that John was firmly established in some good business, which gave him an income large enough to keep free from debt and make Meg comfortable. I'm not ambitious for a splendid fortune, a fashionable position, or a great name for my girls. If rank and money come with love and virtue, also, I should accept them gratefully, and enjoy your good fortune, but I know, by experience, how much genuine happiness can be had in a plain little house, where the daily bread is earned, and some privations give sweetness to the few pleasures. I am content to see Meg begin humbly, for if I am not mistaken, she will be rich in the possession of a good man's heart, and that is better than a fortune."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I understand, Mother, and quite agree, but I'm disappointed about Meg, for I'd planned to have her marry Teddy by-and-by and sit in the lap of luxury all her days. Wouldn't it be nice?" asked Jo, looking up with a brighter face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He is younger than she, you know," began Mrs. March, but Jo broke in...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Only a little, he's old for his age, and tall, and can be quite grown-up in his manners if he likes. Then he's rich and generous and good, and loves us all, and I say it's a pity my plan is spoiled."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm afraid Laurie is hardly grown-up enough for Meg, and altogether too much of a weathercock just now for anyone to depend on. Don't make plans, Jo, but let time and their own hearts mate your friends. We can't meddle safely in such matters, and had better not get `romantic rubbish' as you call it, into our heads, lest it spoil our friendship."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I won't, but I hate to see things going all crisscross and getting snarled up, when a pull her and a snip there would straighten it out. I wish wearing flatirons on our heads would keep us from growing up. But buds will be roses, and kittens cats, more's the pity!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What's that about flatirons and cats?" asked Meg, as she crept into the room with the finished letter in her hand.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Only one of my stupid speeches. I'm going to bed. Come, Peggy," said Jo, unfolding herself like an animated puzzle.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Quite right, and beautifully written. Please add that I send my love to John," said Mrs. March, as she glanced over the letter and gave it back.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you call him `John'?" asked Meg, smiling, with her innocent eyes looking down into her mother's.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, he has been like a son to us, and we are very fond of him," replied Mrs. March, returning the look with a keen one.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm glad of that, he is so lonely. Good night, Mother, dear. It is so inexpressibly comfortable to have you here," was Meg's answer.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The kiss her mother gave her was a very tender one, and as she went away, Mrs. March said, with a mixture of satisfaction and regret, "She does not love John yet, but will soon learn to.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-58611205153446965852022-08-02T11:01:00.004+05:302022-08-02T11:01:26.796+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER NINETEEN - Amy's Will - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">While these things were happening at home, Amy was having hard times at Aunt March's. She felt her exile deeply, and for the first time in her life, realized how much she was beloved and petted at home. Aunt March never petted any one. She did not approve of it, but she meant to be kind, for the well- behaved little girl pleased her very much, and Aunt March had a soft place in her old heart for her nephew's children, though she didn't think it proper to confess it. She really did her best to make Amy happy, but, dear me, what mistakes she made. Some old people keep young at heart in spite of wrinkles and gray hairs, can sympathize with children's little cares and joys, make them feel at home, and can hide wise lessons under pleasant plays, giving and receiving friendship in the sweetest way. But Aunt March had not this gift, and she worried Amy very much with her rules and orders, her prim ways, and long, prosy talks. Finding the child more docile and amiable than her sister, the old lady felt it her duty to try and counteract, as far as possible, the bad effects of home freedom and indulgence. So she took Amy by the hand, and taught her as she herself had been taught sixty years ago, a process which carried dismay to Amy's soul, and made her feel like a fly in the web of a very strict spider.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She had to wash the cups every morning, and polish up the old-fashioned spoons, the fat silver teapot, and the glasses till they shone. Then she must dust the room, and what a trying job that was. Not a speck escaped Aunt March's eye, and all the furniture had claw legs and much carving, which was never dusted to suit. Then Polly had to be fed, the lap dog combed, and a dozen trips upstairs and down to get things or deliver orders, for the old lady was very lame and seldom left her big chair. After these tiresome labors, she must do her lessons, which was a daily trial of every virtue she possessed. Then she was allowed one hour for exercise or play, and didn't she enjoy it?</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CLe1idu2p_kCFVkCXAodotQKfA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.9~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418272&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-nineteen-amys-will&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416781681&bpp=4&bdt=521&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=3924042858251&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416781&ga_hid=1535029720&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1488&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44763827%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531607&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLX0U0lWB7N8hHN4uPXHSVGS8ijD4QyQ9_XAZb5hCxzc1kWkSRjNxQGiwmeAECy-Wx8RyHBHXa5sb6S&pvsid=1782492480717949&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=kduQ6c99Cg&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie came every day, and wheedled Aunt March till Amy was allowed to go out with him, when they walked and rode and had capital times. After dinner, she had to read aloud, and sit still while the old lady slept, which she usually did for an hour, as she dropped off over the first page. Then patchwork or towels appeared, and Amy sewed with outward meekness and inward rebellion till dusk, when she was allowed to amuse herself as she liked till teatime. The evenings were the worst of all, for Aunt March fell to telling long stories about her youth, which were so unutterably dull that Amy was always ready to go to be, intending to cry over her hard fate, but usually going to sleep before she had squeezed out more than a tear or two.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">If it had not been for Laurie, and old Esther, the maid, she felt that she never could have got through that dreadful time. The parrot alone was enough to drive her distracted, for he soon felt that she did not admire him, and revenged himself by being as mischievous as possible. He pulled her hair whenever she came near him, upset his bread and milk to plague her when she had newly cleaned his cage, made Mop bark by pecking at him while Madam dozed, called her names before company, and behaved in all respects like an reprehensible old bird. Then she could not endure the dog, a fat, cross beast who snarled and yelped at her when she made his toilet, and who lay on his back with all his legs in the air and a most idiotic expression of countenance when he wanted something to eat, which was about a dozen times a day. The cook was bad-tempered, the old coachman was deaf, and Esther the only one who ever took any notice of the young lady.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Esther was a Frenchwoman, who had lived with`Madame', as she called her mistress, for many years, and who rather tyrannized over the old lady, who could not get along without her. Her real name was Estelle, but Aunt March ordered her to change it, and she obeyed, on condition that she was never asked to change her religion. She took a fancy to Mademoiselle, and amused her very much with odd stories of her life in France, when Amy sat with her while she got up Madam's laces. She also allowed her to roam about the great house, and examine the curious and pretty things stored away in the big wardrobes and the ancient chests, for Aunt March hoarded like a magpie. Amy's chief delight was an Indian cabinet, full of queer drawers, little pigeonholes, and secret places, in which were kept all sorts of ornaments, some precious, some merely curious, all more or less antique. To examine and arrange these things gave Amy great satisfaction, especially the jewel cases, in which on velvet cushions reposed the ornaments which had adorned a belle forty years ago. There was the garnet set which Aunt March wore when she came out, the pearls her father gave her on her wedding day, her lover's diamonds, the jet mourning rings and pins, the queer lockets, with portraits of dead friends and weeping willows made of hair inside, the baby bracelets her one little daughter had worn, Uncle March's big watch, with the red seal so many childish hands had played with, and in a box all by itself lay Aunt March's wedding ring, too small now for her fat finger, but put carefully away like the most precious jewel of them all.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CL3w_-W2p_kCFc4NXAodHOYOjg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.12~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418295&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-nineteen-amys-will&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpPL7pm_KvoYeIb5MmE8n84S4aryBFvv2e7F_E65aRLCbqh2nYTKqk_-k6lVfMC1Neni7iIulVB0o&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416781702&bpp=10&bdt=542&idt=11&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=3924042858251&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416781&ga_hid=1535029720&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2523&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=772&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44763827%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531607&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLX0U0lWB7N8hHN4uPXHSVGS8ijD4QyQ9_XAZb5hCxzc1kWkSRjNxQGiwmeAECy-Wx8RyHBHXa5sb6S&pvsid=1782492480717949&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=4keSAxsJgV&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Which would Mademoiselle choose if she had her will?" asked Esther, wo always sat near to watch over and lock up the valuables.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I like the diamonds best, but there is no necklace among them, and I'm fond of necklaces, they are so becoming. I should choose this if I might," replied Amy, looking with great admiration at a string of gold and ebony beads from which hung a heavy cross of the same.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I, too, covet that, but not as a necklace. Ah, no! To me it is a rosary, and as such I should use it like a good catholic," said Esther, eyeing the handsome thing wistfully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Is it meant to use as you use the string of good-smelling wooden beads hanging over your glass?" asked Amy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Truly, yes, to pray with. It would be pleasing to the saints if one used so fine a rosary as this, instead of wearing it as a vain bijou."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You seem to take a great deal of comfort in your prayers, Esther, and always come down looking quiet and satisfied. I wish I could."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If Mademoiselle was a Catholic, she would find true comfort, but as that is not to be, it would be well if you went apart each day to meditate and pray, as did the good mistress whom I served before Madame. She had a little chapel, and in it found solacement for much trouble."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="COOLoOa2p_kCFZEGXAod6e4KAA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.19~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418296&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-nineteen-amys-will&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpPL7pm_KvoYeIb5MmE8n84S4aryBFvv2e7F_E65aRLCbqh2nYTKqk_-k6lVfMC1Neni7iIulVB0o&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416781734&bpp=15&bdt=574&idt=15&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=3924042858251&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416781&ga_hid=1535029720&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3108&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=1304&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44763827%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531607&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLX0U0lWB7N8hHN4uPXHSVGS8ijD4QyQ9_XAZb5hCxzc1kWkSRjNxQGiwmeAECy-Wx8RyHBHXa5sb6S&pvsid=1782492480717949&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=oOjtQ9viwE&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Would it be right for me to do so too?" asked Amy, who in her loneliness felt the need of help of some sort, and found that she was apt to forget her little book, now that Beth was not there to remind her of it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It would be excellent and charming, and I shall gladly arrange the little dressing room for you if you like it. Say nothing to Madame, but when she sleeps go you and sit alone a while to think good thoughts, and pray the dear God preserve your sister."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Esther was truly pious, and quite sincere in her advice, for she had an affectionate heart, and felt much for the sisters in their anxiety. Amy liked the idea, and gave her leave to arrange the light closet next her room, hoping it would do her good.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wish I knew where all these pretty things would go when Aunt March dies," she said, as she slowly replaced the shining rosary and shut the jewel cases one by one.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"To you and your sisters. I know it, Madame confides in me. I witnessed her will, and it is to be so," whispered Esther smiling.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How nice! But I wish she'd let us have them now. Procrastination is not agreeable," observed Amy, taking a last look at the diamonds.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It is too soon yet for the young ladies to wear these things. The first one who is affianced will have the pearls, Madame has said it, and I have a fancy that the little turquoise ring will be given to you when you go, for Madame approves your good behavior and charming manners."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you think so? Oh, I'll be a lamb, if I can only have that lovely ring! It's ever so much prettier than Kitty Bryant's. I do like Aunt March after all." And Amy tried on the blue ring with a delighted face and a firm resolve to earn it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">From that day she was a model of obedience, and the old lady complacently admired the success of her training. Esther fitted up the closet with a little table, placed a footstool before it, and over it a picture taken from one of the shut-up rooms. She thought it was of no great value, but, being appropriate, she borrowed it, well knowing that Madame would never know it, nor care if she did. It was, however, a very valuable copy of one of the famous pictures of the world, and Amy's beauty-loving eyes were never tired of looking up at the sweet face of the Divine Mother, while her tender thoughts of her own were busy at her heart. On the table she laid her little testament and hymnbook, kept a vase always full of the best flowers Laurie brought her, and came every day to `sit alone' thinking good thoughts, and praying the dear God to preserve her sister. Esther had given her a rosary of black beads with a silver cross, but Amy hung it up and did not use it, feeling doubtful as to its fitness for Protestant prayers.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The little girl was very sincere in all this, for being left alone outside the safe home nest, she felt the need of some kind hand to hold by so sorely that she instinctively turned to the strong and tender Friend, whose fatherly love most closely surrounds His little children. She missed her mother's help to understand and rule herself, but having been taught where to look, she did her best to find the way and walk in it confidingly. But Amy was a young pilgrim, and just now her burden seemed very heavy. She tried to forget herself, to keep cheerful, and be satisfied with doing right, though no one saw or praised her for it. In her first effort at being very, very good, she decided to make her will, as Aunt March had done, so that if she did fall ill and die, her possessions might be justly and generously divided. It cost her a pang even to think of giving up the little treasures which in her eyes were as precious as the old lady's jewels.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CLGQ_Oa2p_kCFdQLXAodV-QEAA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.29~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418297&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-nineteen-amys-will&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpPL7pm_KvoYeIb5MmE8n84S4aryBFvv2e7F_E65aRLCbqh2nYTKqk_-k6lVfMC1Neni7iIulVB0o&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416781788&bpp=11&bdt=628&idt=12&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=3924042858251&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416781&ga_hid=1535029720&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=4428&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=2734&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44763827%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531607&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLX0U0lWB7N8hHN4uPXHSVGS8ijD4QyQ9_XAZb5hCxzc1kWkSRjNxQGiwmeAECy-Wx8RyHBHXa5sb6S&pvsid=1782492480717949&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=w3dE3zT9w7&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">During one of her play hours she wrote out the important document as well as she could, with some help from Esther as to certain legal terms, and when the good-natured Frenchwoman had signed her name, Amy felt relieved and laid it by to show Laurie, whom she wanted as a second witness. As it was a rainy day, she went upstairs to amuse herself in one of the large chambers, and took Polly with her for company. In this room there was a wardrobe full of old-fashioned costumes with which Esther allowed her to play, and it was her favorite amusement to array herself in the faded brocades, and parade up and down before the long mirror, making stately curtsies, and sweeping her train about with a rustle which delighted her ears. So busy was she on this day that she did not hear Laurie's ring nor see his face peeping in at her as she gravely promenaded to and fro, flirting her fan and tossing her head, on which she wore a great pink turban, contrasting oddly with her blue brocade dress and yellow quilted petticoat. She was obliged to walk carefully, for she had on highheeled shoes, and, as Laurie told Jo afterward, it was a comical sight to see her mince along in her gay suit, with Polly sidilng and bridling just behind her, imitating her as well as he could, and occasionally stopping to laugh or exclaim, "Ain't we fine? Get along, you fright! Hold your tongue! Kiss me, dear! Ha! Ha!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Having with difficulty restrained an explosion of merriment, lest it should offend her majesty, Laurie tapped and was graciously received.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Sit down and rest while I put these things away, then I want to consult you about a very serious matter," said Amy, when she had shown her splendor and driven Polly into a corner. "That bird is the trial of my life," she continued, removing the pink mountain from her head, while Laurie seated himself astride a chair. "Yesterday, when Aunt was asleep and I was trying to be as still as a mouse, Polly began to squall and flap about in his cage, so I went to let him out, and found a big spider there. I poked it out, and it ran under the bookcase. Polly marched straight after it, stooped down and peeped under the bookcase, saying, in his funny way, with a cock of his eye, `Come out and take a walk, my dear.' I couldn't help laughing, which made Poll swear, and Aunt woke up and scolded us both."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Did the spider accept the old fellow's invitation?" asked Laurie, yawning.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, out it came, and away ran Polly, frightened to death, and scrambled up on Aunt's chair, calling out, `Catch her! Catch her! Catch her!' as I chased the spider."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's a lie! Oh, lor!" cried the parrot, pecking at Laurie's toes.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'd wring your neck if you were mine, you old torment," cried Laurie, shaking his fist at the bird, who put his head on one side and gravely croaked, "Allyluyer! Bless your buttons, dear!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now I'm ready," said Amy, shutting the wardrobe and taking a piece of paper out of her pocket. "I want you to read that, please, and tell me if it is legal and right. I felt I ought to do it, for life is uncertain and I don't want any ill feeling over my tomb."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CI2IuOe2p_kCFcwCXAodfTQHSQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.37~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659418298&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-nineteen-amys-will&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpPL7pm_KvoYeIb5MmE8n84S4aryBFvv2e7F_E65aRLCbqh2nYTKqk_-k6lVfMC1Neni7iIulVB0o&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416781817&bpp=3&bdt=657&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=3924042858251&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416781&ga_hid=1535029720&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=5538&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=4018&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C44763827%2C31068669%2C44768688%2C42531607&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLX0U0lWB7N8hHN4uPXHSVGS8ijD4QyQ9_XAZb5hCxzc1kWkSRjNxQGiwmeAECy-Wx8RyHBHXa5sb6S&pvsid=1782492480717949&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=v0alIxX0ZB&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie bit his lips, and turning a little from the pensive speaker, read the following document, with praiseworthy gravity, considering the spelling:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">MY LAST WILL AND TESTIMENT</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I, Amy Curtis March, being in my sane mind, go give and bequeethe all my earthly property--viz.to wit:--namely</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To my father, my best pictures, sketches, maps, and works of art, including frames. Also my $100, to do what he likes with.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To my mother, all my clothes, except the blue apron with pockets--also my likeness, and my medal, with much love.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To my dear sister Margaret, I give my turkquoise ring (if I get it), also my green box with the doves on it, also my; piece of real lace for her neck, and my sketch of her as a memorial of her 'little girl'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To Jo I leave my breastpin, the one mended with sealing wax, also my bronze inkstand--she lost the cover--and my most precious plaster rabbit, because I am sorry I burned up her story.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To Beth (if she lives after me) I give my dolls and the little bureau, my fan, my linen collars and my new slippers if she can wear them being thin when she gets well. And I herewith also leave her my regret that I ever made fun of old Joanna.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To my friend and neighbor Theodore Laurence I bequeethe my paper mashay portfolio, my clay model of a horse though he did say it hadn't any neck. Also in return for his great kindness in the hour of affliction any one of my artistic works he likes, Noter Dame is the best.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To our venerable benefactor Mr. Laurence I leave my purple box with a looking glass in the cover which will be nice for his pens and remind him of the departed girl who thanks him for his favors to her family, especially Beth.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I wish my favorite playmate Kitty Bryant to have the blue silk apron and my gold-bead ring with a kiss.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To Hannah I give the bandbox she wanted and all the patchwork I leave hoping she `will remember me, when it you see'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">And now having disposed of my most valuable property I hope all will be satisfied and not blame the dead. I forgive everyone, and trust we may all meet when the trump shall sound. Amen.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">To this will and testiment I set my hand and seal on this</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">20th day of Nov. Anni Domino 1861.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy Curtis March</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Witnesses:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Estelle Valnor, Theodore Laurence.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The last name was written in pencil, and Amy explained that he was to rewrite it in ink and seal it up for her properly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What put it into your head? Did anyone tell you about Beth's giving away her things?" asked Laurie soberly, as Amy laid a bit of red tape, with sealing wax, a taper, and a standish before him.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She explained and then asked anxiously, "What about Beth?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm sorry I spoke, but as I did, I'll tell you. She felt so ill one day that she told Jo she wanted to give her piano to Meg, her cats to you, and the poor old doll to Jo, who would love it for her sake. She was sorry she had so little to give, and left locks of hair to the rest of us, and her best love to Grandpa. She never thought of a will."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie was signing and sealing as he spoke, and did not look up till a great tear dropped on the paper. Amy's face was full of trouble, but she only said, "Don't people put sort of postscripts to their wills, sometimes?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, `codicils', they call them."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Put one in mine then, that I wish all my curls cut off, and given round to my friends. I forgot it, but I want it done though it will spoil my looks."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie added it, smiling at Amy's last and greatest sacrifice. Then he amused her for an hour, and was much interested in all her trials. But when he came to go, Amy held him back to whisper with trembling lips, "Is there really any danger about Beth?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm afraid there is, but we must hope for the best, so don't cry, dear." And Laurie put his arm about her with a brotherly gesture which was very comforting.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When he had gone, she went to her little chapel, and sitting in the twilight, prayed for Beth, with streaming tears and an aching heart, feeling that a million turquoise rings would not console her for the loss of her gentle little sister.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-45621768067855039092022-08-02T11:00:00.008+05:302022-08-02T11:00:50.102+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Dark Days - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Beth did have the fever, and was much sicker than anyone but Hannah and the doctor suspected. The girls knew nothing about illness, and Mr. Laurence was not allowed to see her, so Hannah had everything her own way, and busy Dr. Bangs did his best, but left a good deal to the excellent nurse. Meg stayed at home, lest she should infect the Kings, and kept house, feeling very anxious and a little guilty when she wrote letters in which no mention was made of Beth's illness. She could not think it right to deceive her mother, but she had been bidden to mind Hannah, and Hannah wouldn't hear of</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`Mrs. March bein' told, and worried just for sech a trifle.'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo devoted herself to Beth day and night, not a hard task, for Beth was very patient, and bore her pain uncomplainingly as long as she could control herself. But there came a time when during the fever fits she began to talk in a hoarse, broken voice, to play on the coverlet as if on her beloved little piano, and try to sing with a throat so swollen that there was no music left, a time when she did not know the familiar faces around her, but addressed them by wrong names, and called imploringly for her mother. Then Jo grew frightened, Meg begged to be allowed to write the truth, and even Hannah said she `would think of it, though there was no danger yet'. A letter from Washington added to their trouble, for Mr. March had had a relapse, and could not think of coming home for a long while.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">How dark the days seemed now, how sad and lonely the house, and how heavy were the hearts of the sisters as they worked and waited, while the shadow of death hovered over the once happy home. Then it was that Margaret, sitting alone with tears dropping often on her work, felt how rich she had been in things more precious than any luxuries money could buy--in love, protection, peace, and health, the real blessings of life. Then it was that Jo, living in the darkened room, with that suffering little sister always before her eyes and that pathetic voice sounding in her ears, learned to see the beauty and to sweetness of Beth's nature, to feel how deep and tender a place she filled in all hearts, and to acknowledge the worth of Beth's unselfish ambition to live for others, and make home happy by that exercise of those simple virtues which all may possess, and which all should love and value more than talent, wealth, or beauty. And Amy, in her exile, longed eagerly to be at home, that she might work for Beth, feeling now that no service would be hard or irksome, and remembering, with regretful grief, how many neglected tasks those willing hands had done for her. Laurie haunted the house like a restless ghost, and Mr. Laurence locke the grand piano, because he could not bear to be reminded of the young neighbor who used to make the twilight pleasant for him. Everyone missed Beth. The milkman, baker, grocer, and butcher inquired how she did, poor Mrs. Hummel came to beg pardon for her thoughtlessness and to get a shroud for Minna, the neighbors sent all sorts of comforts and good wishes, and even those who knew her best were surprised to find how many friends shy little Beth had made.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meanwhile she lay on her bed with old Joanna at her side, for even in her wanderings she did not forget her forlorn protege. She longed for her cats, but would not have them brought, lest they should get sick, and in her quiet hours she was full of anxiety about Jo. She sent loving messages to Amy, bade them tell her mother that she would write soon, and often begged for pencil and paper to try to say a word, that Father might not think she had neglected him. But soon even these intervals of consciousness ended, and she lay hour after hour, tossing to and fro, with incoherent words on her lips, or sank into a heavy sleep which brought her no refreshment. Dr. Bangs came twice a day, Hannah sat up at night, Meg kept a telegram in her desk all ready to send off at any minute, and Jo never stirred from Beth's side.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The first of December was a wintry day indeed to them, for a bitter wind blew, snow fell fast, and the year seemed getting ready for its death. When Dr. Bangs came that morning, he looked long at Beth, held the hot hand in both his own for a minute, and laid it gently down, saying, in a low voice to Hannah, "If Mrs. March can leave her husband she'd better be sent for."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Hannah nodded without speaking, for her lips twitched nervously, Meg dropped down into a chair as the strength seemed to go out of her limbs at the sound of those words, and Jo, standing with a pale face for a minute, ran to the parlor, snatched up the telegram, and throwing on her things, rushed out into the storm. She was soon back, and while noiselessly taking off her cloak, Laurie came in with a letter, saying that Mr. March was mending again. Jo read it thankfully, but the heavy weight did not seem lifted off her heart, and her face was so full of misery that Laurie asked quickly, "What is it? Is Beth worse?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've sent for Mother," said Jo, tugging at her rubber boots with a tragic expression.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Good for you, Jo! Did you do it on your own responsibility?" asked Laurie, as he seated her in the hall chair and took off the rebellious boots, seeing how her hands shook.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No. The doctor told us to."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, Jo, it's not so bad as that?" cried Laurie, with a startled face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, it is. She doesn't know us, she doesn't even talk about the flocks of green doves, as she calls the vine leaves on the wall. She doesn't look like my Beth, and there's nobody to help us bear it. Mother and father both gone, and God seems so far away I can't find Him."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As the tears streamed fast down poor Jo's cheeks, she stretched out her hand in a helpless sort of way, as if groping in the dark, and Laurie took it in his, whispering as well as he could with a lump in his throat, "I'm here. Hold on tome, Jo, dear!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She could not speak, but she did `hold on', and the warm grasp of the friendly human hand comforted her sore heart, and seemed to lead her nearer to the Divine arm which alone could uphold her in her trouble.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie longed to say something tender and comfortable, but no fitting words came to him, so he stood silent, gently stroking her bent head as her mother used to do. It was the best thing he could have done, far more soothing than the most eloquent words, for Jo felt the unspoken sympathy, and in the silence learned the sweet solace which affection administers to sorrow. Soon she dried the tears which had relieved her, and looked up with a grateful face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Thank you, Teddy, I'm better now. I don't feel so forlorn, and will try to bear it if it comes."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Keep hoping for the best, that will help you, Jo. Soon your mother will be here, and then everything will be all right."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm so glad Father is better. Now she won't feel so bad about leaving him. Oh, me! It does seem as if all the troubles came in a heap, and I got the heaviest part on my shoulders," sighed Jo, spreading her wet handkerchief over her knees to dry.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Doesn't Meg pull fair?" asked Laurie, looking indignant.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, yes, she tries to, but she can't love Bethy as I do, and she won't miss her as I shall. Beth is my conscience, and I can't give her up. I can't! I can't!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Down went Jo's face into the wet handkerchief, and she cried despairingly, for she had kept up bravely till now and never shed a tear. Laurie drew his hand across his eyes, but could not speak till he had subdued the choky feeling in his throat and steadied his lips. It might be unmanly, but he couldn't help it, and I am glad of it. Presently, as Jo's sobs quieted, he said hopefully, "I don't think she will die. She's so good, and we all love her so much, I don't believe God will take her away yet."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The good and dear people always do die," groaned Jo, but she stopped crying, for her friend's words cheered her up in spite of her own doubts and fears.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Poor girl, you're worn out. It isn't like you to be forlorn. Stop a bit. I'll hearten you up in a jiffy."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie went off two stairs at a time, and Jo laid her wearied head down on Beth's little brown hood, which no one had thought of moving from the table where she left it. It must have possessed some magic, for the submissive spirit of its gentle owner seemed to enter into Jo, and when Laurie came running down with a glass of wine, she took it with a smile, and said bravely, "I drink-- Health to my Beth! You are a good doctor, Teddy, and such a comfortable friend. How can I ever pay you?" she added, as the wine refreshed her body, as the kind words had done her troubled mind.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll send my bill, by-and-by, and tonight I'll give you some- thing that will warm the cockles of your heart better than quarts of wine," said Laurie, beaming at her with a face of suppressed satisfaction at something.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What is it?" cried Jo, forgetting her woes for a minute in her wonder.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I telegraphed to your mother yesterday, and Brooke answered she'd come at once, and she'll be here tonight, and everything will be all right. Aren't you glad I did it?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie spoke very fast, and turned red and excited all in a minute, for he had kept his plot a secret, for fear of disappointing the girls or harming Beth. Jo grew quite white, flew out of her chair, and the moment he stopped speaking she electrified him by throwing her arms round his neck, and crying out, with a joyful cry, "Oh, Laurie! Oh, Mother! I am so glad!" She did not weep again, but laughed hysterically, and trembled and clung to her friend as if she was a little bewildered by the sudden news.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie, though decidedly amazed, behaved with great presence of mind. He patted her back soothingly, and finding that she was recovering, followed it up by a bashful kiss or two, which brought Jo round at once. Holding on to the banisters, she put him gently away, saying breathlessly, "Oh, don't! I didn't mean to, it was dreadful of me, but you were such a dear to go and do it in spite of Hannah that I couldn't help flying at you. Tell me all about it, and don't give me wine again, it makes me act so."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't mind," laughed Laurie, as he settled his tie. "Why, you see I got fidgety, and so did Grandpa. We thought Hannah was overdoing the authority business, and your mother ought to know. She'd never forgive us if Beth... Well, if anything happened, you know. So I got grandpa to say it was high time we did something, and off I pelted to the office yesterday, for the doctor looked sober, and Hannah most took my head off when I proposed a telegram. I never can bear to be `lorded over', so that settled my mind, and I did it. Your mother will come, I know, and the late train is in at two A.M. I shall go for her, and you've only got to bottle up your rapture, and keep Beth quiet till that blessed lady gets here."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Laurie, you're an angel! How shall I ever thank you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Fly at me again. I rather liked it," said Laurie, looking mischievous, a thing he had not done for a fortnight.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, thank you. I'll do it by proxy, when your grandpa comes. Don't tease, but go home and rest, for you'll be up half the night. Bless you, Teddy, bless you!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo had backed into a corner, and as she finished her speech, she vanished precipitately into the kitchen, where she sat down upon a dresser and told the assembled cats that she was "happy, oh, so happy!" while Laurie departed, feeling that he had made a rather neat thing of it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's the interferingest chap I ever see, but I forgive him and do hope Mrs. March is coming right away," said Hannah, with an air of relief, when Jo told the good news.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg had a quiet rapture, and then brooded over the letter, while Jo set the sickroom in order, and Hannah `knocked up a couple of pies in case of company unexpected". A breath of fresh air seemed to blow through the house, and something better than sunshine brightened the quiet rooms. Everything appeared to feel the hopeful change. Beth's bird began to chirp again, and a half-blown rose was discovered on Amy's bush in the window. The fires seemed to burn with unusual cheeriness, and every time the girls met, their pale faces broke into smiles as they hugged one another, whispering encouragingly, "Mother's coming, dear! Mother's coming!" Every one rejoiced but Beth. She lay in that heavy stupor, alike unconscious of hope and joy, doubt and danger. It was a piteous sight, the once rosy face so changed and vacant, the once busy hands so weak and wasted, the once smiling lips quite dumb, and the once pretty, well-kept hair scattered rough and tangled on the pillow. All day she say so, only rousing now and then to mutter, "Water!" with lips so parched they could hardly shape the word. All day Jo and Meg hovered over her, watching, waiting, hoping, and trusting in God and Mother, and all day the snow fell, the bitter wind raged, and the hours dragged slowly by. But night came at last, and every time the clock struck, the sisters, still sitting on either side of the bed, looked at each other with brightening eyes, for each hour brought help nearer. The doctor had been in to say that some change, for better or worse, would probably take place about midnight, at which time he would return.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Hannah, quite worn out, lay down on the sofa at the bed's foot and fell fast asleep, Mr. Laurence marched to and fro in the parlor, feeling that he would rather face a rebel battery than Mrs. March's countenance as she entered. Laurie lay on the rug, pretending to rest, but staring into the fire with the thoughtful look which made his black eyes beautifully soft and clear.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The girls never forgot that night, for no sleep came to them as they kept their watch, with that dreadful sense of powerlessness which comes to us in hours like those.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If God spares Beth, I never will complain again," whispered Meg earnestly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If god spares Beth, I'll try to love and serve Him all my life," answered Jo, with equal fervor.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wish I had no heart, it aches so," sighed Meg, after a pause.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If life is often as hard as this, I don't see how we ever shall get through it," added her sister despondently.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Here the clock struck twelve, and both forgot themselves in watching Beth, for they fancied a change passed over her wan face. The house was still as death, and nothing but the wailing of the wind broke the deep hush. Weary Hannah slept on, and no one but the sisters saw the pale shadow which seemed to fall upon the little bed. An hour went by, and nothing happened except Laurie's quiet departure for the station. Another hour, still no one came, and anxious fears of delay in the storm, or accidents by the way, or, worst of all, a great grief at Washington, haunted the girls.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It was past two, when Jo, who stood at the window thinking how dreary the world looked in its winding sheet of snow, heard a movement by the bed, and turning quickly, saw Meg kneeling before their mother's easy chair with her face hidden. A dreadful fear passed coldly over Jo, as she thought, "Beth is dead, and Meg is afraid to tell me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She was back at her post in an instant, and to her excited eyes a great change seemed to have taken place. The fever flush and the look of pain were gone, and the beloved little face looked so pale and peaceful in its utter repose that Jo felt no desire to weep or to lament. Leaning low over this dearest of her sisters, she kissed the damp forehead with her heart on her lips, and softly whispered, "Goodby, my Beth. Goodby!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As if awaked by the stir, Hannah started out of her sleep, hurried to the bed, looked at Beth, felt her hands, listened at her lips, and then, throwing her apron over her head, sat down to rock to and fro, exclaiming, under her breath, "The fever's turned, she's sleepin' nat'ral, her skin's damp, and she breathes easy. Praise be given! Oh, my goodness me!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Before the girls could believe the happy truth, the doctor came to confirm it. He was a homely man, but they thought his face quite heavenly when he smiled and said, with a fatherly look at them, "Yes, my dears, I think the little girl will pull through this time. Keep the house quiet, let her sleep, and when she wakes, give her..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">What they were to give, neither heard, for both crept into the dark hall, and, sitting on the stairs, held each other close, rejoicing with hearts too full for words. When they went back to be kissed and cuddled by faithful Hannah, they found Beth lying, as she used to do, with her cheek pillowed on her hand, the dreadful pallor gone, and breathing quietly, as if just fallen asleep.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If Mother would only come now!" said Jo, as the winter night began to wane.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"See," said Meg, coming up with a white, half-opened rose, "I thought this would hardly be ready to lay in Beth's hand tomorrow if she--went away from us. But it has blossomed in the night, and now I mean to put it in my vase here, so that when the darling wakes, the first thing she sees will be the little rose, and Mother's face."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Never had the sun risen so beautifully, and never had the world seemed so lovely as it did to the heavy eyes of Meg and Jo, as they looked out in the early morning, when their long, sad vigil was done.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It looks like a fairy world," said Meg, smiling to herself, as she stood behind the curtain, watching the dazzling sight.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hark!" cried Jo, starting to her feet.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Yes, there was a sound of bells at the door below, a cry from Hannah, and then Laurie's voice saying in a joyful whisper, "Girls, she's come! She's come!"</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-16983115963296194942022-08-02T10:59:00.006+05:302022-08-02T10:59:46.867+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Little Faithful - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">For a week the amount of virtue in the old house would have supplied the neighborhood. It was really amazing, for everyone seemed in a heavenly frame of mind, and self-denial was all the fashion. Relieved of their first anxiety about their father, girls insensibly relaxed their praiseworthy efforts a little, and began to fall back into old ways. They did not forget their motto, but hoping and keeping busy seemed to grow easier, and after such tremendous exertions, they felt that Endeavor deserved a holiday, and gave it a good many.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo caught a bad cold through neglect to cover the shorn head enough, and was ordered to stay at home till she was better, for Aunt March didn't like to hear people read with colds in their heads. Jo liked this, and after an energetic rummage from garret to cellar, subsided on the sofa to nurse her cold with arsenicum and books. Amy found that housework and art did not go well together, and returned to her mud pies. Meg went daily to her pupils, and sewed, or thought she did, at home, but much time was spent in writing long letters to her mother, or reading the Washington dispatches over and over. Beth kept on, with only slight relapses into idleness or grieving.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">All the little duties were faithfully done each day, and many of her sisters' also, for they were forgetful, and the house seemed like a clock whose pendulum was gone a-visiting. When her heart got heavy with longings for Mother or fears for Father, she went away into a certain closet, hid her face in the folds of a dear old gown, and made her little moan and prayed her little prayer quietly by herself. Nobody knew what cheered her up after a sober fit, but everyone felt how sweet and helpful Beth was, and fell into a way of going to her for comfort or advice in their small affairs.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">All were unconscious that this experience was a test of character, and when the first excitement was over, felt that they had done well and deserved praise. So they did, but their mistake was in ceasing to do well, and they learned this lesson through much anxiety and regret.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Meg, I wish you'd go and see the Hummels. You know Mother told us not to forget them." said Beth, ten days after Mrs. March's departure.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm too tired to go this afternoon," re;lied Meg, rocking comfortably as she sewed.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Can't you, Jo?' asked Beth.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Too stormy for me with my cold."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I thought it was almost well."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's well enough for me to go out with Laurie, but not well enough to go to the Hummels'," said Jo, laughing, but looking a little ashamed of her inconsistency.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why don't you go yourself?" asked Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I have been every day, but the baby is sick, and I don't know what to do for it. Mrs. Hummel goes away to work, and Lottchen takes care of it. But it gets sicker and sicker, and I think you or Hannah ought to go."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Beth spoke earnestly, and Meg promised she would go tomorrow.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Ask Hannah for some nice little mess, and take it round, Beth, the air will do you good," said Jo, adding apologetically, "I'd go but I want to finish my writing."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My head aches and I'm tired, so I thought maybe some of you would go," said Beth.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Amy will be in presently, and she will run down for us, suggested Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">So Beth lay down on the sofa, the others returned to their work, and the Hummels were forgotten. An hour passed. Amy did not come, Meg went to her room to try on a new dress, Jo was absorbed in her story, and Hannah was sound asleep before the kitchen fire, when Beth quietly put on her hood, filled her basket with odds and ends for the poor children, and went out into the chilly air with a heavy head and a grieved look in her patient eyes. It was late when she came back, and no one saw her creep upstairs and shut herself into her mother's room. Half an hour after, Jo went to `Mother's closet' for something, and there found little Beth sitting on the medicine chest, looking very grave, with red eyes and a camphor bottle in her hand.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Christopher Columbus! What's the matter?" cried Jo, as Beth put out her hand as if to warn her off, and asked quickly, "You've had the scarlet fever, havent't you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Years ago, when Meg did. Why?'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then I'll tell you. Oh, Jo, the baby's dead!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What baby?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mrs. Hummel's. It died in my lap before she got home," cried Beth with a sob.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My poor dear, how dreadful for you! I ought to have gone," said Jo, taking her sister in her arms as she sat down in her mother's bit chair, with a remorseful face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It wasn't dreadful, Jo, only so sad! I saw in a minute it was sicker, but Lottchen said her mother had gone for a doctor, so I took Baby and let Lotty rest. It seemed asleep, but all of a sudden if gave a little cry and trembled, and then lay very still. I tried to warm its feet, and Lotty gave it some milk, but it didn't stir, and I knew it was dead."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't cry, dear! What did you do?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I just sat and held it softly till Mrs. Hummel came with the doctor. He said it was dead, and looked at Heinrich and Minna, who have sore throats. `Scarlet fever, ma'am. Ought to have called me before, ' he said crossly. Mrs. Hummel told him she was poor, and had tried to cure baby herself, but now it was too late, and she could only ask him to help the others and trust to charity for his pay. He smiled then, and was kinder, but it was very sad, and I cried with them till he turned round all of a sudden, and told me to go home and take belladonna right away, or I'd have the fever."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, you won't!" cried Jo, hugging her close, with a frightened look. "Oh, Beth, if you should be sick I never could forgive myself! What shall we do?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't be frightened, I guess I shan't have it badly. I looked in Mother's book, and saw that it begins with headache, sore throat, and queer feelings like mine, so I did take some belladonna, and I feel better," said Beth, laying her cold hands on her hot forehead and trying to look well.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If Mother was only at home!" exclaimed Jo, seizing the book, and feeling that Washington was an immense way off. She read a page, looked at Beth, felt her head, peeped into her throat, and then said gravely, "You've been over the baby every day for more than a week, and among the others who are going to have it, so I'm afraid you are going to have it, Beth. I'll call Hannah, she knows all about sickness." "Don't let Amy come. She never had it, and I should hate to give it to her. Can't you and Meg have it over again?" asked Beth, anxiously.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I guess not. Don't care if I do. Serve me right, selfish pig, to let you go, and stay writing rubbish myself!" muttered Jo, as she went to consult Hannah.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The good soul was wide awake in a minute, and took the lead at once, assuring that there was no need to worry; every one had scarlet fever, and if rightly treated, nobody died, all of which Jo believed, and felt much relieved as they went up to call Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now I'll tell you what we'll do," said Hannah, when she had examined and questioned Beth, "we will have Dr. Bangs, just to take a look at you, dear, and see that we start right. Then we'll send Amy off to Aunt March's for a spell, to keep her out of harm's way, and one of you girls can stay at home and amuse Beth for a day or two."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I shall stay, of course, I'm oldest," began Meg, looking anxious and self-reproachful.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I shall, because it's my fault she is sick. I told Mother I'd do the errands, and I haven't," said Jo decidedly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Which will you have, Beth? There ain't no need of but one," aid Hannah.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Jo, please." And Beth leaned her head against her sister with a contented look, which effectually settled that point.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll go and tell Amy," said Meg, feeling a little hurt, yet rather relieved on the whole, for she did not like nursing, and Jo did.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy rebelled outright, and passionately declared that she had rather have the fever than go to Aunt March. Meg reasoned, pleaded, and commanded, all in vain. Amy protested that she would not go, and Meg left her in despair to ask Hannah what should be done. Before she came back, Laurie walked into the parlor to find Amy sobbing, with her head in the sofa cushions. She told her story, expecting to be consoled, but Laurie only put his hands in his pockets and walked about the room, whistling softly, as he knit his brows in deep thought. Presently he sat down beside her, and said, in his most wheedlesome tone, "Now be a sensible little woman, and do as they say. No, don't cry, but hear what a jolly plan I've got. You go to Aunt March's, and I'll come and take you out every day, driving or walking, and we'll have capital times. Won't that be better than moping here?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't wish to be sent off as if I was in the way," began Amy, in an injured voice.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bless your heart, child, it's to keep you well. You don't want to be sick, do you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I'm sure I don't, but I dare say I shall be, for I've been with Beth all the time."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's the very reason you ought to go away at once, so that you may escape it. Change of air and care will keep you well, I dare say, or if it does not entirely, you will have the fever more lightly. I advise you to be off as soon as you can, for scarlet fever is no joke, miss."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"But it's dull at Aunt March's, and she is so cross," said Amy, looking rather frightened.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It won't be dull with me popping; in every day to tell you how Beth is, and take you out gallivanting. The old lady likes me, and I'll be as sweet as possible to her, so she won't peck at us, whatever we do."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Will you take me out in the trotting wagon with Puck?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"On my honor as a gentleman."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And come every single day?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"See if I don't/"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And bring me back the minute Beth is well?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The identical minute."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And go to the theater, truly?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A dozen theaters, if we may."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well--I guess I will," said Amy slowly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Good girl! Call Meg, and tell her you'll give in," said Laurie, with an approving pat, which annoyed Amy more than the</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`giving in'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg and Jo came running down to behold the miracle which had been wrought, and Amy, feeling very precious and self-sacrificing, promised to go, if the doctor said Beth was going to be ill.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How is the little dear?" asked Laurie, for Beth was his especial pet, and he felt more anxious about her than he liked to show.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"She is lying down on Mother's bed, and feels better. The baby's death troubled her, but I dare say she has only got cold. Hannah says she thinks so, but she looks worried, and that makes me fidgety," answered Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What a trying world it is!" said Jo, rumpling up her hair in a fretful way. "No sooner do we get out of one trouble than down comes another. There doesn't seem to be anything to hold on to when Mother's gone, so I'm all at sea."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, don't make a porcupine of yourself, it isn't becoming. Settle your wig, Jo, and tell me if I shall telegraph to your mother, or do anything?" asked Laurie, who never had been reconciled to the loss of his friend's one beauty.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That is what troubles me," said Meg. "I think we ought to tell her if Beth is really ill, but Hannah says we mustn't, for Mother can't leave Father, and it will only make them anxious. Beth won't be sick long, and Hannah knows just what to do, and Mother said we were to mind her, so I suppose we must, but it doesn't seem quite right to me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hum, well, I can't say. Suppose you ask Grandfather after the doctor has been."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We will. Jo, go and get Dr. Bangs at once," commanded Meg. "We can't decide anything till he has been."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Stay where you are, Jo. I'm errand boy to this establishment," said Laurie, taking up his cap.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm afraid you are busy," began Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I've done my lessons for the day."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you study in vacation time?" asked Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I follow the good example my neighbors set me," was Laurie's answer, as he swung himself out of the room.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I have great hopes for my boy," observed Jo, watching him fly over the fence with an approving smile.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He does very well, for a boy," was Meg's somewhat ungracious answer, for the subject did not interest her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Dr. Bangs came, said Beth had symptoms of the fever, but he thought she would have it lightly, though he looked sober over the Hummel story. Amy was ordered off at once, and provided with something to ward off danger, she departed in great state, with Jo and Laurie as escort.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Aunt March received them with her usual hospitality.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What do you want now?" she asked, looking sharply over her spectacles, while the parrot, sitting on the back of her chair, called out...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Go away. No boys allowed here."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie retired to the window, and Jo told her story.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No more than I expected, if you are allowed to go poking about among poor folks. Amy can stay and make herself useful if she isn't sick, which I've no doubt she will be, looks like it now. Don't cry, child, it worries me to hear people sniff." Amy was on the point of crying, but Laurie slyly pulled the parrot's tail, which caused Polly to utter an astonished croak and call out, "Bless my boots!" in such a funny way, that she laughed instead.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What do you hear from your mother?" asked the old lady gruffly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Father is much better," replied Jo, trying to keep sober.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, is her? Well, that won't last long, I fancy. March never had any stamina," was the cheerful reply.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Ha, ha! Never say die, take a pinch of snuff, goodbye, goodbye!" squalled Polly, dancing on her perch, and clawing at the old lady's cap as Laurie tweaked him in the rear.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hold your tongue, you disrespectful old bird! And, Jo, you'd better go at once. It isn't proper to be gadding about so late with a rattlepated boy like..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hold your tongue, you disrespectful old bird!" cried Polly, tumbling off the chair with a bounce, and running to peck the</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`rattlepated' boy, who was shaking with laughter at the last speech.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't think I can bear it, but I'll try," thought Amy, as she was left alone with Aunt March.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Get along, you fright!" screamed Polly, and at that rude speech Amy could not restrain a sniff.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-6607023522867064982022-08-02T10:58:00.005+05:302022-08-02T10:58:35.246+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Letters - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">In the cold gray dawn the sisters lit their lamp and read their chapter with an earnestness never felt before. For now the shadow of a real trouble had come, the little books were full of help and comfort, and as they dressed, they agreed to say goodbye cheerfully and hopefully, and send their mother on her anxious journey unsaddened by tears or complaints from them. Everything seemed very strange when they went down, so dim and still outside, so full of light and bustle within. Breakfast at that early hour seemed odd, and even Hannah's familiar face looked unnatural as she flew about her kitchen with her nightcap on. The big trunk stood ready in the hall, Mother's cloak and bonnet lay on the sofa, and Mother herself sat trying to eat, but looking so pale and worn with sleeplessness and anxiety that the girls found it very hard to keep their resolution. Meg's eyes kept filling in spite of herself, Jo was obliged to hide her face in the kitchen roller more than once, ant the little girls wore a grave, troubled expression, as if sorrow was a new experience to them.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Nobody talked much, but as the time drew very near and they sat waiting for the carriage, Mrs. March said to the girls, who were all busied about her, one folding her shawl, another smoothing out the strings of her bonnet, a third putting on her overshoes, and a forth fastening up her travelling bag...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Children, I leave you to Hannah's care and Mr. Laurence's protection. Hannah is faithfulness itself, and our good neighbor will guard you as if you were his own. I have no fears for you, yet I am anxious that you should take this trouble rightly. Don't grieve and fret when I am gone, or think that you can be idle and comfort yourselves by being idle and trying to forget. Go on with your work as usual, for work is a blessed solace. Hope and keep busy, and whatever happens, remember that you never can be fatherless."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, Mother."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Meg, dear, be prudent, watch over your sisters, consult Hannah, and in any perplexity, go to Mr. Laurence. Be patient, Jo, don't get despondent or do rash things, write to me often, and be my brave girl, ready to help and cheer all. Beth, comfort yourself with your music, and be faithful to the little home duties, and You Amy, help all you can, be obedient, and keep happy safe at home."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We will, Mother! We will!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The rattle of an approaching carriage made them all start and listen. That was the hard minute, but the girls stood it well. No one cried, no one ran away or uttered a lamentation, though their hearts were very heavy as they sent loving messages to Father, remembering, as they spoke that it might be too late to deliver them. They kissed their mother quietly, clung about her tenderly, and tried to wave their hands cheerfully when she drove away.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie and his grandfather came over to see her off, and Mr. Brooke looked so strong and sensible and kind that the girls christened him `Mr. Greatheart' on the spot.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Goodby, my darlings! God bless and keep us all!" whispered Mrs. March, as she kissed one dear little face after the other, and hurried into the carriage.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As she rolled away, the sun came out, and looking back, she saw it shining on the group at the gate like a good omen. They saw it also, and smiled and waved their hands, and the last thing she beheld as she turned the corner was the four bright faces, and behind them like a bodyguard, old Mr. Laurence, faithful Hannah, and devoted Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How kind everyone is to us!" she said, turning to find fresh proof of it in the respectful sympathy of the young man's face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't see how they can help it," returned Mr. Brooke, laughing so infectiously that Mrs. March could not help smiling. And so the journey began with the good omens of sunshine, smiles, and cheerful words.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I feel as if there had been an earthquake," said Jo, as their neighbors went home to breakfast, leaving them to rest and refresh themselves.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It seems as if half the house was gone," added Meg forlornly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Beth opened her lips to say something, but could only point to the pile of nicely mended hose which lay on Mother's table, showing that even in her last hurried moments she had thought and worked for them. It was a little thing, but it went straight to their hearts, and in spite of their brave resolutions, they all broke down and cried bitterly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Hannah wisely allowed them to relieve their feelings, and when the shower showed signs of clearing up, she came to the rescue, armed with a coffeepot.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now, ny dear young ladies, remember what your ma said, and don't fret. Come and have a cup of coffee all round, and then let's fall to work and be a credit to the family."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Coffee was a treat, and Hannah showed great tact in making it that morning. No one could resist her persuasive nods, or the fragrant invitation issuing from the nose of the coffee pot. They drew up to the table, exchanged their handkerchiefs for napkins, and in ten minutes were all right again.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"`Hope and keep busy', that's the motto for us, so let's see who will remember it best. I shall go to Aunt March, as usual. Oh, won't she lecture though!" said Jo, as she sipped with returning spirit.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I shall go to my Kings, though I'd much rather stay at home and attend to things here," said Meg, wishing she hadn't made her eyes so red.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No need of that. Beth and I can keep house perfectly well," put in Amy, with an important air. "Hannah will tell us what to do, and we'll have everything nice when you come home," added Beth, getting out her mop and dish tub without delay.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I think anxiety is very interesting," observed Amy, eating sugar pensively.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The girls couldn't help laughing, and felt better for it, though Meg shook her head at the young lady who could find consolation in a sugar bowl.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The sight of the turnovers made Jo sober again, and when the two went out to their daily tasks, they looked sorrowfully back at the window where they were accustomed to see their mother's face. It was gone, but Beth had remembered the little household ceremony, and there she was, nodding away at them like a rosyfaced mandarin.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's so like my Beth!" said Jo, waving her hat, with a grateful face. "Goodbye, Meggy, I hope the Kings won't strain today. Don't fret about Father, dear," she added, as they parted.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And I hope Aunt March won't croak. Your hair is becoming, and it looks very boyish and nice," returned Meg, trying not to smile at the curly head, which looked comically small on her tall sister's shoulders.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's my only comfort." And, touching her hat a` la Laurie, away went Jo, feeling like a shorn sheep on a wintry day.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">News from their father comforted the girls very much, for though dangerously ill, the presence of the best and tenderest of nurses had already done him good. Mr. Brooke sent a bulletin every day, and as the head of the family, Meg insisted on reading the dispatches, which grew more cheerful as the week passed. At first, everyone was eager to write, and plump envelopes were carefully poked into the letter box by one or other of the sisters, who felt rather important with their Washington correspondence. As one of these packets contained characteristic notes from the party, we will rob an imaginary mail, and read them.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">My dearest Mother:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It is impossible to tell you how happy your last letter made us, for the news was so good we couldn't help laughing and crying over it. How very kind Mr. Brooke is, and how fortunate that Mr. Laurence's business detains him near you so long, since he is so useful to you and Father. The girls are all as good as gold. Jo helps me with the sewing, and insists on doing all sorts of hard jobs. I should be afraid she might overdo, if I didn't know her</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`moral fit' wouldn't last long. Beth is as regular about her tasks as a clock, and never forgets what you told her. She grieves about Father, and looks sober except when she is at her little piano. Amy minds me nicely, and I take great care of her. She does her own hair, and I am teaching her to make buttonholes and mend her stockings. She tries very hard, and I know you will be pleased with her improvement when you come. Mr. Laurence watches over us like a motherly old hen, as Jo says, and Laurie is very kind and neighborly. He and Jo keep us merry, for we get pretty blue sometimes, and feel like orphans, with you so far away. Hannah is a perfect saint. She does not scold at all, and always calls me Miss Margaret, which is quite proper, you know, and treats me with respect. We are all well and busy, but we long, day and night, to have you back. Give my dearest love to Father, and believe me, ever your own...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">MEG</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">This note, prettily written on scented paper, was a great contrast to the next, which was scribbled on a big sheet of thin foreign paper, ornamented with blots and all manner of flourishes and curly-tailed letters.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">My precious Marmee:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Three cheers for dear Father! Brooke was a trump to telegraph right off, and let us know the minute he was better. I rushed up garret when the letter came, and tried to thank god for being so good to us, but I could only cry, and say, "I'm glad! I'm glad!" Didn't that do as well as a regular prayer? For I felt a great many in my heart. We have such funny times, and now I can enjoy them, for everyone is so desperately good, it's like living in a nest of turtledoves. You'd laugh to see Meg head the table and try to be motherish. She gets prettier every day, and I'm in love with her sometimes. The children are regular archangels, and I-- well, I'm Jo, and never shall be anything else. Oh, I must tell you that I came near having a quarrel with Laurie. I freed my mind about a silly little thing, and he was offended. I was right, but didn't speak as I ought, and he marched home, saying he wouldn't come again till I begged pardon. I declared I wouldn't and got mad. It lasted all day. I felt bad and wanted you very much. Laurie and I are both so proud, it's hard to beg pardon. But I thought he'd come to it, for I was in the right. He didn't come, and just at night I remembered what you said when Amy fell into the river. I read my little book, felt better, resolved not to let the sun set on my anger, and ran over to tell Laurie I was sorry. I met him at the gate, coming for the same thing. We both laughed, begged each other's pardon, and felt all good and comfortable again.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I made a `pome' yesterday, when I was helping Hannah wash, and as Father likes my silly little things, I put it in to amuse him. Give him my lovingest hug that ever was, and kiss yourself a dozen times for your...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">TOPSY-TURVY JO</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A SONG FROM THE SUDS</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Queen of my tub, I merrily sing, While the white foam rises high, And sturdily wash and rinse and wring, And fasten the clothes to dry. Then out in the free fresh air they swing, Under the sunny sky.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I wish we could wash from out hearts and souls The stains of the week away, And let water and air by their magic make Ourselves as pure as they. Then on the earth there would be indeed, A glorious washing day!</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Along the path of a useful life, Will heartsease ever bloom. The busy mind has no time to think Of sorrow or care or gloom. And anxious thoughts may be swept away, As we bravely wield a broom.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I am glad a task to me is given, To labor at day by day, For it brings me health and strength and hope, And I cheerfully learn to say, "Head, you may think, Heart, you may feel, But, Hand, you shall work alway!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Dear Mother,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">There is only room for me to send my love, and some pressed pansies from the root I have been keeping safe in the house for Father to see. I read every morning, try to be good all day, and sing myself to sleep with Father's tune. I can't sing `LAND OF THE LEAL' now, it makes me cry. Everyone is very kind, and we are as happy as we can be without you. Amy wants the rest of the page, so I must stop. I didn't forget to cover the holders, and I wind the clock and air the rooms every day.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Kiss dear Father on the cheek he calls mine. Oh, do come soon to your loving . ..</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">LITTLE BETH</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Ma Chere Mamma,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">We are all well I do my lessons always and never corroberate the girls--Meg says I mean contradick so I put in both words and you can take the properest. Meg is a great comfort to me and lets me have jelly every night at tea its so good for me Jo says because it keeps me sweet tempered. Laurie is not as respeckful as he ought to be now I am almost in my teens, he calls me Chick and hurts my feelings by talking French to me very fast when I say Merci or Bon jour as Hattie King does. The sleeves of my blue dress were all worn out, and Meg put in new ones, but the full front came wrong and they are more blue than the dress. I felt bad but did not fret I bear my troubles well but I do wish Hannah would put more starch in my aprons and have buckwheats every day. Can't she? Didn't I make that interrigation point nice? Meg says my punchtuation and spelling are disgraceful and I am mortyfied but dear me I have so many things to do, I can't stop. Adieu, I send heaps of love to Papa. Your affectionate daughter . ..</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">AMY CURTIS MARCH</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Dear Mis March,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I jes drop a line to say we git on fust rate. The girls is clever and fly round right smart. Miss Meg is going to make a proper good housekeeper. She hes the liking for it, and gits the hang of things surprisin quick. Jo doos beat all for goin ahead, but she don't stop to cal'k'late fust, and you never know where she's like to bring up. She done out a tub of clothes on Monday, but she starched 'em afore they was wrenched, and blued a pink calico dress till I thought I should a died a laughin. Beth is the best of little creeters, and a sight of help to me, bein so forehanded and dependable. She tries to learn everything, and really goes to market beyond her years, likewise keeps accounts, with my help, quite wonderful. We have got on very economical so fur. I don't let the girls hev coffee only once a week, accordin to your wish, and keep em on plain wholesome vittles. Amy does well without frettin, wearin her best clothes and eatin sweet stuff. Mr. Laurie is as full of didoes as usual, and turns the house upside down frequent, but he heartens the girls, so I let em hev full swing. The old gentleman send heaps of things, and is rather wearin, but means wal, and it aint my place to say nothin. My bread is riz, so no more at this time. I send my duty to Mr. March, and hope he's seen the last of his Pewmonia.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Yours respectful,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Hannah Mullet</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Head Nurse of Ward No. 2,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">All serene on the Rappahannock, troops in fine condition, commisary department well conducted, the Home Guard under Colonel Teddy always on duty, Commander in Chief General Laurence reviews the army daily, Quartermaster Mullet keeps order in camp, and Major Lion does picket duty at night. A salute of twenty-four guns was fired on reciept of good news from Washington, and a dress parade took place at headquarters. Commander in chief sends best wishes, in which he is heartily joined by...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">COLONEL TEDDY</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Dear Madam:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The little girls are all well. Beth and my boy report daily. Hannah is a model servant, and guards pretty Meg like a dragon. Glad the fine weather holds. Pray make Brooke useful, and draw on me for funds if expenses exceed your estimate. Don't let your husband want anything. Thank God he is mending.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Your sincere friend and servant, JAMES LAURENCE</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-41281842939584102422022-08-02T10:57:00.004+05:302022-08-02T10:57:32.157+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER FIFTEEN - A Telegram - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">"November is the most disagreeable month in the whole year," said Margaret, standing at the window one dull afternoon, looking out at the frostbitten garden.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's the reason I was born in it," observed Jo pensively, quite unconscious of the blot on her nose.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If something very pleasant should happen now, we should think it a delightful month," said Beth, who took a hopeful view of everything, even November.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I dare say, but nothing pleasant ever does happen in this family," said Meg, who was out of sorts. "We go grubbing along day after day, without a bit of change, and very little fun. We might as well be in a treadmill."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My patience, how blue we are!" cried Jo. "I don't much wonder, poor dear, for you see other girls having splendid times, while you grind, grind, year in and year out. Oh, don't I wish I could manage things for you as I do for my heroines! You're pretty enough and good enough already, so I'd have some rich relation leave you a fortune unexpectedly. Then you'd dash out as an heiress, scorn everyone who has slighted you, go abroad, and come home my Lady Something in a blaze of splendor and elegance."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"People don't have fortunes left them in that style nowadays, men have to work and women marry for money. It's a dreadfully unjust world," said Meg bitterly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Jo and I are going to make fortunes for you all. Just wait ten years, and see if we don't," said Amy, who sat in a corner making mud pies, as Hannah called her little clay models of birds, fruit, and faces.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Can't wait, and I'm afraid I haven't much faith in ink and dirt, though I'm grateful for your good intentions.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg sighed, and turned to the frostbitten garden again. Jo groaned and leaned both elbows on the table in a despondent attitude, but Amy spatted away energetically, and Beth, who sat at the other window, said, smiling, "Two pleasant things are going to happen right away. Marmee is coming down the street, and Laurie is tramping through the garden as if he had something nice to tell."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In they both came, Mrs. March with her usual question, "Any letter from Father, girls?" and Laurie to say in his persuasive way, "Won't some of you come for a drive? I've been working away at mathematics till my head is in a muddle, and I'm going to freshen my wits by a brisk turn. It's a dull day, but the air isn't bad, and I'm going to take Brooke home, so it will be gay inside, if it isn't out. Come, Jo, you and Beth will go, won't you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course we will."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Much obliged, but I'm busy." And Meg whisked out her workbasket, for she had agreed with her mother that it was best, for her at least, not to drive too often with the young gentleman.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We three will be ready in a minute," cried Amy, running away to wash her hands.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Can I do anything for you, Madam Mother?" asked Laurie, leaning over Mrs. March's chair with the affectionate look and tone he always gave her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, thank you, except call at the office, if you'll be so kind, dear. It's our day for a letter, and the postman hasn't been. Father is as regular as the sun, but there's some delay on the way, perhaps."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A sharp ring interrupted her, and a minute after Hannah came in with a letter.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's one of them horrid telegraph things, mum," she said, handling it as if she was afraid it would explode and do some damage.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">At the word `telegraph', Mrs. March snatched it, read the two lines it contained, and dropped back into her chair as white as if the little paper had sent a bullet to her heart. Laurie dashed downstairs for water, while Meg and Hannah supported her, and Jo read aloud, in a frightened voice...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March: Your husband is very ill. Come at once. S. HALE</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Blank Hospital, Washington.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">How still the room was as they listened breathlessly, how strangely the day darkened outside, and how suddenly the whole world seemed to change, as the girls gathered about their mother, feeling as if all the happiness and support of their lives was about to be taken from them.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March was herself again directly, read the message over, and stretched out her arms to her daughters, saying, in a tone they never forgot, "I shall go at once, but it may be too late. Oh, children, children, help me to bear it!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">For several minutes there was nothing but the sound of sobbing in the room, mingled with broken words of comfort, tender assurances of help, and hopeful whispers that died away in tears. Poor Hannah was the first to recover, and with unconscious wisdom she set all the rest a good example, for with her, work was panacea for most afflictions.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The Lord keep the dear man! I won't waste no time a-cryin', but git your things ready right away, mum," she said heartily, as she wiped her face on her apron, gave her mistress a warm shake of the hand with her own hard one, and went away to work like three women in one.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"She's right, there's no time for tears now. Be calm, girls, and let me think."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They tried to be calm, poor things, as their mother sat up, looking pale but steady, and put away her grief to think and plan for them.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Where's Laurie?' she asked presently, when she had collected her thoughts and decided on the first duties to be done.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here, ma'am. Oh, let me do something!" cried the boy, hurrying from the next room whither he had withdrawn, feeling that their first sorrow was too sacred for even his friendly eyes to see.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Send a telegram saying I will come at once. The next train goes early in the morning. I'll take that."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What else? The horses are ready. I can go anywhere, do anything," he said, looking ready to fly to the ends of the earth.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Leave a note at Aunt March's. Jo, give me that pen and paper."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Tearing off the blank side of one of her newly copied pages, Jo drew the table before her mother, well knowing that money for the long, sad journey must be borrowed, and feeling as if she could do anything to add to a little to the sum for her father.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now go, dear, but don't kill yourself driving at a desperate pace. There is no need of that."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March's warning was evidently thrown away, for five minutes later Laurie tore by the window on his own fleet horse, riding as if for his life.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Jo, run to the rooms, and tell Mrs. King that I can't come. On the way get these things. I'll put them down, they'll be needed and I must go prepared for nursing. Hospital stores are not always good. Beth, go and ask Mr. Laurence for a couple of bottles of old wine. I'm not too proud to beg for Father. He shall have the best of everything. Amy, tell Hannah to get down the black trunk, and Meg, come and help me find my things, for I'm half bewildered."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Writing, thinking, and directing all at once might well bewilder the poor lady, and Meg begged her to sit quietly in her room for a little while, and let them work. Everyone scattered like leaves before a gust of wind, and the quiet, happy household was broken up as suddenly as if the paper had been an evil spell.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. Laurence came hurrying back with Beth, bringing every comfort the kind old gentleman could think of for the invalid, and friendliest promises of protection for the girls during the mother's absence, which comforted her very much. There was nothing he didn't offer, from his own dressing gown to himself as escort. But the last was impossible. Mrs. March would not hear of the old gentleman's undertaking the long journey, yet an expression of relief was visible when he spoke of it, for anxiety ill fits one for traveling. He saw the look, knit his heavy eyebrows, rubbed his hands, and marched abruptly away, saying he'd be back directly. No one had time to think of him again till, as Meg ran through the entry, with a pair of rubbers in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, she came suddenly upon Mr. Brooke.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm very sorry to hear of this, Miss March," he said, in the kind, quiet tone which sounded very pleasantly to her perturbed spirit. "I came to offer myself as escort to your mother. Mr. Laurence has commissions for me in Washington, and it will give me real satisfaction to be of service to her there."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Down dropped the rubbers, and the tea was very near following, as Meg put out her hand, with a face so full of gratitude that Mr. Brooke would have felt repaid for a much greater sacrifice than the trifling one of time and comfort which he was about to take.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How kind you all are! Mother will accept, I'm sure, and it will be such a relief to know that she has someone to take care of her. Thank you very, very much!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg spoke earnestly, and forgot herself entirely till something in the brown eyes looking down at her made her remember the cooling tea, and lead the way into the parlor, saying she would call her mother.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Everything was arranged by the time Laurie returned with a note from Aunt March, enclosing the desired sum, and a few lines repeating what she had often said before, that she had always told them it was absurd for March to go into the army, always predicted that no good would come of it, and she hoped they would take her advice the next time. Mrs. March put the note in the fire, the money in her purse, and went on with her preparations, with her lips folded tightly in a way which Jo would have understood if she had been there.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The short afternoon wore away. All other errands were done, and Meg and her mother busy at some necessary needlework, while Beth and Amy goth tea, and Hannah finished her ironing with what she called a `slap and a bang', but still Jo did not come. They began to get anxious, and Laurie went off to find her, for no one knew what freak Jo might take into her head. He missed her, however, and she came walking in with a very queer expression of countenance, for there was a mixture of fun and fear, satisfaction and regret in it, which puzzled the family as much as did the roll of bills she laid before her mother, saying with a little choke in her voice, "That's my contribution toward making Father comfortable and bringing him home!" "My dear, where did you get it? Twenty-five dollars! Jo, I hope you haven't done anything rash?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, it's mine honestly. I didn't beg, borrow, or steal it. I earned it, and I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Your hair! Your beautiful hair!" "Oh, Jo, how could you? Your one beauty." "My dear girl, there was no need of this." "She doesn't look like my Jo any more, but I love her dearly for it!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As everyone exclaimed, and Beth hugged the cropped head tenderly, Jo assumed an indifferent air, which did not deceive anyone a particle, and said, rumpling up the brown bush and trying to look as if she liked it, "It doesn't affect the fate of the nation, so don't wail, Beth. It will be good for my vanity, I getting too proud of my wig. It will do my brains good to have that mop taken off. My head feels deliciously light and cool, and the barber said I could soon have a curly crop, which will be boyish, becoming, and easy to keep in order. I'm satisfied, so please take the money and let's have supper."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Tell me all about it, Jo. I am not quite satisfied, but I can't blame you, for I know how willingly you sacrificed your vanity, as you call it, to your love. But, my dear, it was not necessary, and I'm afraid you will regret it one of these days," said Mrs. March.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I won't!" returned Jo stoutly, feeling much relieved that her prank was not entirely condemned.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What made you do it?" asked Amy, who would as soon have thought of cutting off her head as her pretty hair.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I was wild to to something for Father," replied Jo, as they gathered about the table, for healthy young people can eat even in the midst of trouble. "I hate to borrow as much as Mother does, and I knew Aunt March would croak, she always does, if you ask for a ninepence. Meg gave all her quarterly salary toward the rent, and I only got some clothes with mine, so I felt wicked, and was bound to have some money, if I sold the nose off my face to get it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You needn't feel wicked, my child! You had no winter things and got the simplest with your own hard earnings," said Mrs. March with a look that warmed Jo's heart.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I hadn't the least idea of selling my hair at first, but as I went along I kept thinking what I could do, and feeling as if I'd like to dive into some of the rich stores and help myself. In a barber's window I saw tails of hair with the prices marked, and one black tail, not so thick as mine, was forty dollars. It came to me all of a sudden that I had one thing to make money out of, and without stopping to think, I walked in, asked if they bought hair, and what they would give for mine."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't see how you dared to do it," said Beth in a tone of awe.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, he was a little man who looked as if he merely lived to oil his hair. He rather stared at first, as if he wasn't used to having girls bounce into his shop and ask him to buy their hair. He said he didn't care about mine, it wasn't the fashionable color, and he never paid much for it in the first place. The work he put it into it made it dear, and so on. It was getting late, and I was afraid if it wasn't done right away that I shouldn't have it done at all, and you know when I start to do a thing, I hate to give it up. So I begged him to take it, and told him why I was in such a hurry. It was silly, I dare say, but it changed his mind, for I got rather excited, and told the story in my topsy-turvy way, and his wife heard, and said so kindly, `Take it, Thomas, and oblige the young lady. I'd do as much for our Jimmy any day if I had a spire of hair worth selling."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Who was Jimmy?" asked Amy, who liked to have things explained as they went along.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Her son, she said, who was in the army. How friendly such things make strangers feel, don't they? She talked away all the time the man clipped, and diverted my mind nicely."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Didn't you feel dreadfully when the first cut came?" asked Meg, with a shiver.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I took a last look at my hair while the man got his things, and that was the end of it. I never snivel over trifles like that. I will confess, though, I felt queer when I saw the dear old hair laid out on the table, and felt only the short rough ends of my head. It almost seemed as if I'd an arm or leg off. The woman saw me look at it, and picked out a long lock for me to keep. I'll give it to you, Marmee, just to remember past glories by, for a crop is so comfortable I don't think I shall ever have a mane again."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March folded the wavy chestnut lock, and laid it away with a short gray one in her desk. She only said, "Thank you, deary," but something in her face made the girls change the subject, and talk as cheerfully as they could about Mr. Brooke's kindness, the prospect of a fine day tomorrow, and the happy times they would have when Father came home to be nursed.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">No one wanted to go to bed when at ten o'clock Mrs. March put by the last finished job, and said, "Come girls." Beth went to the piano and played the father's favorite hymn. All began bravely, but broke down one by one till Beth was left alone, singing with all her heart, for to her music was always a sweet consoler.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Go to bed and don't talk, for we must be up early and shall need all the sleep we can get. Good night, my darlings," said Mrs. March, as the hymn ended, for no one cared to try another.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They kissed her quietly, and went to bed as silently as if the dear invalid lay in the next room. Beth and Amy soon fell asleep in spite of the great trouble, but Meg lay awake, thinking the most serious thoughts she had ever known in her short life. Jo lay motionless, and her sister fancied that she was asleep, till a stifled sob made her exclaim, as she touched a wet cheek...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Jo, dear, what is it? Are you crying about father?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, not now."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What then?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My...My hair!" burst out poor Jo, trying vainly to smother her emotion in the pillow.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It did not seem at all comical to Meg, who kissed and caressed the afflicted heroine in the tenderest manner.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm not sorry," protested Jo, with a choke. "I'd do it again tomorrow, if I could. It's only the vain part of me that goes and cries in this silly way. Don't tell anyone, it's all over now. I thought you were asleep, so I just made a little private moan for my one beauty. How came you to be awake?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I can't sleep, I'm so anxious," said Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Think about something pleasant, and you'll soon drop off."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I tried it, but felt wider awake than ever."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What did you think of?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Handsome faces--eyes particularly," answered Meg, smiling to herself in the dark. "What color do you like best?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Brown, that is, sometimes. Blue are lovely."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo, laughed, and Meg sharply ordered her not to talk, then amiably promised to make her hair curl, and fell asleep to dream of living in her castle in the air.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The clocks were striking midnight and the rooms were very still as a figure glided quietly from bed to bed, smoothing a coverlet here, settling a pillow there, and pausing to look long and tenderly at each unconscious face, to kiss each with lips that mutely blessed, and to pray the fervent prayers which only mothers utter. As she lifted the curtain to look out into the dreary night, the moon broke suddenly from behind the clouds and shone upon her like a bright, benignant face, which seemed to whisper in the silence," Be comforted, dear soul! There is always light behind the clouds."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;"><br /></p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-86619236477400225412022-08-02T10:56:00.001+05:302022-08-02T10:56:05.455+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Secrets - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Jo was very busy in the garret, for the October days began to grow chilly, and the afternoons were short. For two or three hours the sun lay warmly in the high window, showing Jo seated on the old sofa, writing busily, with her papers spread out upon a trunk before her, while Scrabble, the pet rat, promenaded the beams overhead, accompanied by his oldest son, a fine young fellow, who was evidently very proud of his whiskers. Quite absorbed in her work, Jo scribbled away till the last page was filled, when she signed her name with a flourish and threw down her pen, exclaiming...</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There, I've done my best! If this won't suit I shall have to wait till I can do better."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Lying back on the sofa, she read the manuscript carefully through, making dashes here and there, and putting in many exclamation points, which looked like little balloons. Then she tied it up with a smart red ribbon, and sat a minute looking at it with a sober, wistful expression, which plainly showed how ernest her work had been. Jo's desk up here was an old tin kitchen which hung against the wall. It it she kept her papers, and a few books, safely shut away from Scrabble, who, being likewise of a literary turn, was fond of making a circulating library of such books as were left in his way by eating the leaves. From this tin receptacle Jo produced another manuscript, and putting both in her pocket, crept quietly downstairs, leaving her friends to nibble on her pens and taste her ink.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CLDSzZe1p_kCFSuJ6QUd-2wMOg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.10~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417862&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-fourteen-secrets&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416771306&bpp=8&bdt=537&idt=8&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=2510572862956&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416771&ga_hid=2103410789&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=1323&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPI1CbulnSz-aGchmnBgi8anWf47feOkW2aE4PvFPqsFVbtrTjh_kqKLgawHps-w0IeXkuBxPQooZuOS&pvsid=991206745527218&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=qYxvbgkoVr&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She put on her hat and jacket as noiselessly as possible, and going to the back entry window, got out upon the roof of a low porch, swung herself down to the grassy bank, and took a roundabout way to the road. Once there, she composed herself, hailed a passing omnibus, and rolled away to town, looking very merry and mysterious.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">If anyone had been watching her, he would have thought her movements decidedly peculiar, for on alighting, she went off at a great pace till she reached a certain number in a certain busy street. Having found the place with some difficulty, she went into the doorway, looked up the dirty stairs, and after standing stock still a minute, suddenly dived into the street and walked away as rapidly as she came. This maneuver she repeated several times, to the great amusement of a black-eyed young gentleman lounging in the window of a building opposite. On returning for the third time, Jo gave herself a shake, pulled her hat over her eyes, and walked up the stairs, looking as if she were going to have all her teeth out.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">There was a dentist's sign, among others, which adorned the entrance, and after staring a moment at the pair of artificial jaws which slowly opened and shut to draw attention to a fine set of teeth, the young gentleman put on his coat, took his hat, and went down to post himself in the opposite doorway, saying with a smile and a shiver, "It's like her to come alone, but if she has a bad time she'll need someone to help her home."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In ten minutes Jo came running downstairs with a very red face and the general appearance of a person who had just passed through a trying ordeal of some sort. When she saw the young gentleman she looked anything but pleased, and passed him with a nod. But he followed, asking with an air of sympathy, "Did you have a bad time?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not very."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You got through quickly."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, thank goodness!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why did you go alone?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Didn't want anyone to know."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You're the oddest fellow I ever saw. How many did you have out?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo looked at her friend as if she did not understand him, then began to laugh as if mightily amused at something.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CKj20ra1p_kCFcyC6QUdS0AIcA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.21~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417928&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-fourteen-secrets&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpCRbK-7Ig_Phg__I6lk1oVk7eCbMiO-L0BUAIR4dvGQAm7i8E4ecuzlg37BC9DA2111UQrsUUX6a&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416771341&bpp=5&bdt=567&idt=5&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=2510572862956&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416771&ga_hid=2103410789&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2328&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=538&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPI1CbulnSz-aGchmnBgi8anWf47feOkW2aE4PvFPqsFVbtrTjh_kqKLgawHps-w0IeXkuBxPQooZuOS&pvsid=991206745527218&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=zuk28PW1Go&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There are two which I want to have come out, but I must wait a week."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What are you laughing at? You are up to some mischief, Jo," said Laurie, looking mystified.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So are you. What were you doing, sir, up in that billiard saloon?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Begging your pardon, ma'am, it wasn't a billiard saloon, but a gymnasium, and I was taking a lesson in fencing."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm glad of that."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"why?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You can teach me, and then when we play HAMLET, you can be Laertes, and we'll make a fine thing of the fencing scene."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Laurie burst out with a hearty boy's laugh, which made several passers-by smile in spite of themselves.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll teach you whether we play HAMLET or not. It's grand fun and will straighten you up capitally. But I don't believe that was your only reason for saying `I'm glad' in that decided way, was it now?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I was glad that you were not in the saloon, because I hope you never go to such places. Do you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not often."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wish you wouldn't."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's no harm, Jo. I have billiards at home, but it's no fun unless you have good players, so, as I'm fond of it, I come sometimes and have a game with Ned Moffat or some of the other fellows."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry, for you'll get to liking it better and better, and will waste time and money, and grow like those dreadful boys. I did hope you'd stay respectable and be a satisfaction to your friends," said Jo, shaking her head.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Can't a fellow take a little innocent amusement now and then without losing his respectability?" asked Laurie, looking nettled.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That depends upon how and where he takes it. I don't like Ned and his set, and wish you'd keep out of it. Mother won't let us have him at our house, though he wants to come. And if you grow like him she won't be willing to have us frolic together as we do now." "Won't she?" asked Laurie anxiously.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, she can't bear fashionable young men, and she'd shut us all up in bandboxes rather than have us associate with them."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, she needn't get out her bandboxes yet. I'm not a fashionable party and don't mean to be, but I do like harmless larks now and then, don't you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, nobody minds them, so lark away, but don't get wild, will you? Or there will be an end of all our good times."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll be a double distilled saint."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I can't bear saints. Just be a simple, honest, respectable boy, and we'll never desert you. I don't know what I should do if you acted like Mr. King's son. He had plenty of money, but didn't know how to spend it, and got tipsy and gambled, and ran away, and forged his father's name, I believe, and was altogether horrid."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You think I'm likely to do the same? Much obliged."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I don't--oh, dear, no!--but I hear people talking about money being such a temptation, and I sometimes wish you were poor. I shouldn't worry then."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you worry about me, Jo?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A little, when you look moody and discontented, as you sometimes do, for you've got such a strong will, if you once get started wrong, I'm afraid it would be hard to stop you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie walked in silence a few minutes, and Jo watched him, wishing she had held her tongue, for his eyes looked angry, though his lips smiled as if at her warnings.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Are you going to deliver lectures all the way home?" he asked presently.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course not. Why?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Because if you are, I'll take a bus. If you're not, I'd like to walk with you and tell you something very interesting."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I won't preach any more, and I'd like to hear the news immensely."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Very well, then, come on. It's a secret, and if I tell you, you must tell me yours."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I haven't got any," began Jo, but stopped suddenly, remembering that she had.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You know you have--you can't hide anything, so up and fess, or I won't tell," cried Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Is your secret a nice one?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, isn't it! All about people you know, and such fun! You ought to hear it, and I've been aching to tell it this long time. Come, you begin."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'll not say anything about it at home, will you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not a word."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And you won't tease me in private?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I never tease."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, you do. You get everything you want out of people. I don't know how you do it, but you are a born wheedler."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Thank you. Fire away."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I've left two stories with a newspaperman, and he's to give his answer next week," whispered Jo, in her confidant's ear.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hurrah for Miss March, the celebrated American authoress!" cried Laurie, throwing up his hat and catching it again, to the great delight of two ducks, four cats, five hens, and half a dozen Irish children, for they were out of the city now. "Hush! It won't come to anything, I dare say, but I couldn't rest till I had tried, and I said nothing about it because I didn't want anyone else to be disappointed."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It won't fail. Why, Jo, your stories are works of Shakespeare compared to half the rubbish that is published every day. Won't it be fun to see them in print, and shan't we feel proud of our authoress?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo's eyes sparkled, for it is always pleasant to be believed in, and a friend's praise is always sweeter than a dozen newspaper puffs.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Where's your secret? Play fair, Teddy, or I'll never believe you again," she said, trying to extinguish the brilliant hopes that blazed up at a word of encouragement.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I may get into a scrape for telling, but I didn't promise not to, so I will, for I never feel easy in my mind till I've told you any plummy bit of news I get. I know where Meg's glove is."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Is that all? said Jo, looking disappointed, as Laurie nodded and twinkled with a face full of mysterious intelligence.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's quite enough for the present, as you'll agree when I tell you where it is."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Tell, then."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie bent, and whispered three words in Jo's ear, which produced a comical change. She stood and stared at him for a minute, looking both surprised and displeased, then walked on, saying sharply, "How do you know?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Saw it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Where?'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Pocket."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"All this time?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, isn't that romantic?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, it's horrid."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't you like it?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course I don't. It's ridiculous, it won't be allowed. My patience! What would Meg say?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You are not to tell anyone. Mind that."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I didn't promise."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That was understood, and I trusted you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I won't for the present, anyway, but I'm disgusted, and wish you hadn't told me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I thought you'd be pleased."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"At the idea of anybody coming to take Meg away? No, thank you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'll feel better about it when somebody comes to take you away."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'd like to see anyone try it," cried Jo fiercely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So should I!" And Laurie chuckled at the idea.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't think secrets agree with me, I feel rumpled up in my mind since you told me that," said Jo rather ungratefully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Race down this hill with me, and you'll be all right," suggested Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">No one was in sight, the smooth road sloped invitingly before her, and finding the temptation irresistible, Jo darted away, soon leaving hat and comb behind her and scattering hairpins as she ran. Laurie reached the goal first and was quite satisfied with the success of his treatment, for his Atalanta came panting up with flying hair, bright eyes, ruddy cheeks, and no signs of dissatisfaction in her face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wish I was a horse, then I could run for miles in this splendid air, and not lose my breath. It was capital, but see what a guy it's made me. Go, pick up my things, like a cherub, as you are," said Jo, dropping down under a maple tree, which was carpeting the bank with crimson leaves.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie leisurely departed to recover the lost property, and Jo bundled up her braids, hoping no one would pass by till she was tidy again. But someone did pass, and who should it be but Meg, looking particularly ladylike in her state and festival suit, for she had been making calls.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What in the world are you doing here?" she asked, regarding her disheveled sister with well-bred surprise.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Getting leaves," meekly answered Jo, sorting the rosy handful she had just swept up.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And hairpins," added Laurie, throwing half a dozen into Jo's lap. "They grow on this road, Meg, so do combs and brown straw hats."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You have been running, Jo. How could you? When will you stop such romping ways?" said Meg reprovingly, as she settled her cuffs and smoothed her hair, with which the wind had taken liberties.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Never till I'm stiff and old and have to use a crutch. Don't try to make me grow up before my time, Meg. It's hard enough to have you change all of a sudden. Let me be a little girl as long as I can."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As she spoke, Jo bent over the leaves to hide the trembling of her lips, for lately she had felt that Margaret was fast getting to be a woman, and Laurie's secret made her dread the separation which must surely come some time and now seemed very near. He saw the trouble in her face and drew Meg's attention from it by asking quickly, "Where have you been calling, all so fine?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"At the Gardiners', and Sallie has been telling me all about Belle Moffat's wedding. It was very splendid, and they have gone to spend the winter in Paris. Just think how delightful that must be!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you envy her, Meg?" said Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm afraid I do."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm glad of it!" muttered Jo, tying on her hat with a jerk.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why?" asked Meg, looking surprised.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Because if you care much about riches, you will never go and marry a poor man," said Jo, frowning at Laurie, who was mutely warning her to mind what she said.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I shall never `go and marry' anyone," observed Meg, walking on with great dignity while the others followed, laughing, whispering, skipping stones, and `behaving like children', as Meg said to herself, though she might have been tempted to join them if she had not had her best dress on.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">For a week or two, Jo behaved so queerly that her sisters were quite bewildered. She rushed to the door when the postman rang, was rude to Mr. Brooke whenever they met, would sit looking at Meg with a woe-begone face, occasionally jumping up to shake and then kiss her in a very mysterious manner. Laurie and she were always making signs to one another, and talking about</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`Spread Eagles' till the girls declared they had both lost their wits. On the second Saturday after Jo got out of the window, Meg, as she sat sewing at her window, was scandalized by the sight of Laurie chasing Jo all over the garden and finally capturing her in Amy's bower. What went on there, Meg could not see, but shrieks of laughter were heard, followed by the murmur of voices and a great flapping of newspapers.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What shall we do with that girl? She never will behave like a young lady," sighed Meg, as she watched the race with a disapproving face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I hope she won't. She is so funny and dear as she is," said Beth, who had never betrayed that she was a little hurt at Jo's having secrets with anyone but her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's very trying, but we never can make her commy la fo," added Amy, who sat making some new frills for herself, with her curls tied up in a very becoming way., two agreeable things that made her feel unusually elegant and ladylike.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In a few minutes Jo bounced in, laid herself on the sofa, and affected to read.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Have you anything interesting there?" asked Meg, with condescension.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Nothing but a story, won't amount to much, I guess," returned Jo, carefully keeping the name of the paper out of sight.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'd better read it aloud. That will amuse us and keep you out of mischief," said Amy in her most grown-up tone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What's the name?" asked Beth, wondering why Jo kept her face behind the sheet.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The Rival Painters."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That sounds well. Read it," said Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">With a loud "Hem!" and a long breath, Jo began to read very fast. The girls listened with interest, for the tale was romantic, and somewhat pathetic, as most of the characters died in the end. "I like that about the splendid picture," was Amy's approving remark, as Jo paused.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I prefer the lovering part. Viola and Angelo are two of our favorite names, isn't that queer?" said Meg, wiping her eyes, for the lovering part was tragical.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Who wrote it?" asked Beth, who had caught a glimpse of Jo's face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The reader suddenly sat up, cast away the paper, displaying a flushed countenance, and with a funny mixture of solemnity and excitement replied in a loud voice, "Your sister."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You?" cried Meg, dropping her work.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's very good," said Amy critically.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I knew it! I knew it! Oh, my Jo, I am so proud!" And Beth ran to hug her sister and exult over this splendid success.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Dear me, how delighted they all were, to be sure! How Meg wouldn't believe it till she saw the words. "Miss Josephine March," actually printed in the paper. How graciously Amy critisized the artistic parts of the story, and offered hints for a sequel, which unfortunately couldn't be carried out, as the hero and heroine were dead. How Beth got excited, and skipped and sang with joy. How Hannah came in to exclaim, "Sakes alive, well I never!" in great astonishment at `that Jo's doin's'. How proud Mrs. March was when she knew it. How Jo laughed, with tears in her eyes, as she declared she might as well be a peacock and done with it. and how th `Spread Eagle' might be said to flap his wings triumphantly over the House of March, as the paper passed from hand to hand.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Tell us about it." "When did it come?" "How much did you get for it?" "What will Father say?" "Won't Laurie laugh?" cried the family, all in one breath as they clustered about Jo, for these foolish, affectionate people mad a jubilee of every little household joy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Stop jabbering, girls, and I'll tell you everything," said Jo, wondering if Miss Burney felt any grander over her Evilina than she did over her `Rival Painters'. Having told how she disposed of her tales, Jo added, "And when I went to get my answer, the man said he liked them both, but didn't pay beginners, only let them print in his paper, and noticed the stories. It was good practice, he said, and when the beginners improved, anyone would pay. So I let him have the two stories, and today this was sent to me, and Laurie caught me with it and insisted on seeing it, so I let him. And he said it was good, and I shall write more, and he's going to get the next paid for, and I am so happy, for in time I may be able to support myself and help the girls."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo's breath gave out here, and wrapping her head in the paper, she bedewed her little story with a few natural tears, for to be independent and earn the praise of those she loved were the dearest wishes of her heart, and this seemed to be the first step toward that happy end.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-37066720899986255852022-08-02T10:53:00.010+05:302022-08-02T10:53:59.506+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Castles in the Air - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Laurie lay luxuriously swinging to and fro in his hammock one warm September afternoon, wondering what his neighbors were about, but too lazy to go and find out. He was in one of his moods, for the day had been both unprofitable and unsatisfactory, and he was wishing he could live it over again. The hot weather made him indolent, and he had shirked his studies, tried Mr. Brooke's patience to the utmost, displeased his grandfather by practicing half the afternoon, frightened the maidservants half out of their wits by mischievously hinting that one of his dogs was going mad, and, after high words with the stableman about some fancied neglect of his horse, he had flung himself into his hammock to fume over the stupidity of the world in general, till the peace of the lovely day quieted him in spite of himself. Staring up into the green gloom of the horse-chestnut trees above him, he dreamed dreams of all sorts, and was just imagining himself tossing on the ocean in a voyage round the world, when the sound of voices brought him ashore in a flash. Peeping through the meshes of the hammock, he saw the Marches coming out, as if bound on some expedition.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What in the world are those girls about now?" thought Laurie, opening his sleepy eyes to take a good look, for there was something rather peculiar in the appearance of his neighbors. Each wore a large, flapping hat, a brown linen pouch slung over one shoulder, and carried a long staff. Meg had a cushion, Jo a book, Beth a basket, and Amy a portfolio. All walked quietly through the garden, out at the little back gate, and began to climb the hill that lay between the house and river.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, that's cool," said Laurie to himself, "to have a picnic and never ask me! They can't be going in the boat, for they haven't got the key. Perhaps they forgot it. I'll take it to them, and see what's going on."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Though possessed of half a dozen hats, it took him some time to find one, then there was a hunt for the key, which was at last discovered in his pocket, so that the girls were quite out of sight when leaped the fence and ran after them. Taking the shortest way to the boathouse, he waited for them to appear, but no one came, and he went up the hill to take an observation. A grove of pines covered one part of it, and from the heart of this green spot came a clearer sound than the soft sigh of the pines or the drowsy chirp of the crickets.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here's a landscape!" thought Laurie, peeping through the bushes, and looking wide-awake and good-natured already.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It was a rather pretty little picture, for the sisters sat together in the shady nook, with sun and shadow flickering over them, the aromatic wind lifting their hair and cooling their hot cheeks, and all the little wood people going on with their affairs as if these were no strangers but old friends. Meg sat upon her cushion, sewing daintily with her white hands, and looking as fresh and sweet as a rose in her pink dress among the green. Beth was sorting the cones that lay thick under the hemlock near by, for she made pretty things with them. Amy was sketching a group of ferns, and Jo was knitting as she read aloud. A shadow passed over the boy's face as he watched them, feeling that he ought to go away because uninvited, yet lingering because home seemed very lonely and this quiet party in the woods most attractive to his restless spirit. He stood so still that a squirrel, busy with it's harvesting, ran dawn a pine close beside him, saw him suddenly and skipped back, scolding so shrilly that Beth looked up, espied the wistful face behind the birches, and beckoned with a reassuring smile.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"May I come in, please? Or shall I be a bother?" he asked, advancing slowly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg lifted her eyebrows, but Jo scowled at her defiantly and said at once, "Of course you may. We should have asked you before, only we thought you wouldn't care for such a girl's game as this."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I always like your games, but if Meg doesn't want me, I'll go away."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've no objection, if you do something. It's against the rules to be idle here," replied Meg gravely but graciously.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Much obliged. I'll do anything if you'll let me stop a bit, for it's as dull as the Desert of Sahara down there. Shall I sew, read, cone, draw, or do all at once? Bring on your bears. I'm ready." And Laurie sat down with a submissive expression delightful to behold.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Finish this story while I set my heel," said Jo, handing him the book.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes'm." was the meek answer, as he began, doing his best to prove his gratitude for the favor of admission into the `Busy Bee Society'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The story was not a long one, and when it was finished, he ventured to ask a few questions as a reward of merit.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Please, ma'am, could I inquire if this highly instructive and charming institution is a new one?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Would you tell him?" asked Meg of her sisters.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He'll laugh," said Amy warningly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Who cares?" said Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I guess he'll like it," added Beth.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course I shall! I give you my word I won't laugh. Tell away, Jo, and don't be afraid."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The idea of being afraid of you! Well, you see we used to play Pilgrim's Progress, and we have been going on with it in earnest, all winter and summer."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, I know," said Laurie, nodding wisely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Who told you?" demanded Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Spirits."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I did. I wanted to amuse him one night when you were all away, and he was rather dismal. He did like it, so don't scold, Jo," said Beth meekly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You can't keep a secret. Never mind, it saves trouble now."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Go on, please," said Laurie, as Jo became absorbed in her work, looking a trifle displeased.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, didn't she tell you about this new plan of ours? Well, we have tried not to waste our holiday, but each has had a task and worked at it with a will. The vacation is nearly over, the stints are all done, and we are ever so glad that we didn't dawdle."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, I should think so," and Laurie thought regretfully of his own idle days. "Mother likes to have us out-of-doors as much as possible, so we bring our work here and have nice times. For the fun of it we bring our things in these bags, wear the old hats, use poles to climb the hill, and play pilgrims, as we used to do years ago. We call this hill the Delectable Mountain, for we can look far away and see the country where we hope to live some time."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo pointed, and Laurie sat up to examine, for through an opening in the wood one could look cross the wide, blue river, the meadows on the other side, far over the outskirts of the great city, to the green hills that rose to meet the sky. The sun was low, and the heavens glowed with the splendor of an autumn sunset. Gold and purple clouds lay on the hilltops, and rising high into the ruddy light were silvery white peaks that shone like the airy spires of some Celestial City.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How beautiful that is!" said Laurie softly, for he was quick to see and feel beauty of any kind.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's often so, and we like to watch it, for it is never the same, but always splendid," replied Amy, wishing she could paint it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Jo talks about the country where we hope to live sometime--the real country, she means, with pigs and chickens and haymaking. It would be nice, but I wish the beautiful country up there was real, and we could ever go to it," said Beth musingly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There is a lovelier country even than that, where we shall go, by-and-by, when we are good enough," answered Meg with her sweetest voice.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It seems so long to wait, so hard to do. I want to fly away at once, as those swallows fly, and go in at that splendid gate."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'll get there, Beth, sooner or later, no fear of that," said Jo. "I'm the one that will have to fight and work, and climb and wait, and maybe never get in after all."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"you'll have me for company, if that's any comfort. I shall have to do a deal of traveling before I come in sight of your Celestial City. If I arrive late, you'll say a good word for me, won't you, Beth?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Something in the boy's face troubled his little friend, but she said cheerfully, with her quiet eyes on the changing clouds, "If people really want to go, and really try all their lives, I think they will get in, for I don't believe there are any locks on that door or any guards at the gate. I always imagine it is as it is in the picture, where the shining ones stretch out their hands to welcome poor Christian as he comes up from the river.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Wouldn't it be fun if all the castles in the air which we make could come true, and we could live in them?" said Jo, after a little pause.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've made such quantities it would be hard to choose which I'd have," said Laurie, lying flat and throwing cones at the squirrel who had betrayed him.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'd have to take your favorite one. What is it?" asked Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If I tell mine, will you tell yours?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, if the girls will too."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We will. Now, Laurie."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"After I'd seen as much of the world as I want to, I'd like to settle in Germany and have just as much music as I choose. I'm to be a famous musician myself, and all creation is to rush to hear me. And I'm never to be bothered about money or business, but just enjoy myself and live for what I like. That's my favorite castle. What's yours, Meg?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Margaret seemed to find it a little hard to tell hers, and waved a brake before her face, as if to disperse imaginary gnats, while she said slowly, "I should like a lovely house, full of all sorts of luxurious things--nice food, pretty clothes, handsome furniture, pleasant people, and heaps of money. I am to be mistress of it, and manage it as I like, with plenty of servants, so I never need work a bit. How I should enjoy it! For I wouldn't be idle, but do good, and make everyone love me dearly."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Wouldn't you have a master for your castle in the air?" asked Laurie slyly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I said `pleasant people', you know," And Meg carefully tied up her shoe as she spoke, so that no one saw her face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why don't you say you'd have a splendid, wise, good husband and some angelic little children? You know your castle wouldn't be perfect without," said blunt Jo, who had no tender fancies yet, and rather scorned romance, except in books.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'd have nothing but horses, inkstands, and novels in yours," answered Meg petulantly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Wouldn't I though? I'd have a stable full of Arabian steeds, rooms piled high with books, and I'd write out of a magic inkstand, so that my works should be as famous as Laurie's music. I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle, something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all some day. I think I shall write books, and get rich and famous, that would suit me, so that is my favorite dream."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mine is to stay at home safe with Father and Mother, and help take care of the family," said Beth contentedly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't you wish for anything else?" asked Laurie. "Since I had my little piano, I am perfectly satisfied. I only wish we may all keep well and be together, nothing else."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I have ever so many wishes, but the pet one is to be an artist, and go to Rome, and do fine pictures, and be the best artist in the whole world," was Amy's modest desire.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We're an ambitious set, aren't we? Every one of us, but Beth, wants to be rich and famous, and gorgeous in every respect. I do wonder if any of us will ever get our wishes," said Laurie, chewing grass like a meditative calf.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've got the key to my castle in the air, but whether I can unlock the door remains to be seen," observed Jo mysteriously.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've got the key to mine, but I'm not allowed to try it. Hang college!" muttered Laurie with an impatient sigh.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here's mine!" and Amy waved her pencil.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I haven't got any," said Meg forlornly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, you have," said Laurie at once.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Where?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"In your face."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Nonsense, that's of no use." "Wait and see if it doesn't bring you something worth having," replied the boy, laughing at the thought of a charming little secret which he fancied he knew.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg colored behind the brake, but asked no questions and looked across the river with the same expectant expression which Mr. Brooke had worn when he told the story of the knight.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If we are all alive ten years hence, let's meet, and see how many of us have got our wishes, or how much nearer we are then than now," said Jo, always ready with a plan.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bless me! How old I shall be, twenty-seven!" exclaimed Meg, who felt grown up already, having just reached seventeen.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You and I will be twenty-six, Teddy, Beth twenty-four, and Amy twenty-two. What a venerable party!" said Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I hope I shall have done something to be proud of by that time, but I'm such a lazy dog, I'm afraid I shall dawdle, Jo."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You need a motive, Mother says, and when you get it, she is sure you'll work splendidly."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Is she? By Jupiter, I will, if I only get the chance!" cried Laurie, sitting up with sudden energy. "I ought to be satisfied to please Grandfather, and I do try, but it's working against the grain, you see, and comes hard. He wants me to be an India merchant, as he was, and I'd rather be shot. I hate tea and sild and spices, and every sort of rubbish his old ships bring, and I don't care how soon they go to the bottom when I own them. Going to college ought to satisfy him, for if I give him four years he ought to let me off from the business. But he's set, and I've got to do just as he did, unless I break away and please myself, as my father did. If there was anyone left to stay with the old gentleman, I'd do it tomorrow."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie spoke excitedly, and looked ready to carry his threat into execution on the slightest provocation, for he was growing up very fast and, in spite of his indolent ways, had a young man's hatred of subjection, a young man's restless longing to try the world for himself.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I advise you to sail away in one of your ships, and never come home again till you have tried your own way," said Jo, whose imagination was fired by the thought of such a daring exploit, and whose sympathy was excited by what she called `Teddy's Wrongs'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's not right, Jo. You mustn't talk in that way, and Laurie mustn't take your bad advice. You should do just what your grandfather wishes, my dear boy," said Meg in her most maternal tone. "Do your best at college, and when he sees that you try to please him, I'm sure he won't be hard on you or unjust to you. As you say, there is no one else to stay with and love him, and you'd never forgive yourself if you left him without his permission. Don't be dismal or fret, but do your duty and you'll get your reward, as good Mr. Brooke has, by being respected and loved."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What do you know about him?" asked Laurie, grateful for the good advice, but objecting to the lecture, and glad to turn the conversation from himself after his unusual outbreak.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Only what your grandpa told us about him, how he took good care of his own mother till she died, and wouldn't go abroad as tutor to some nice person because he wouldn't leave her. And how he provides now for an old woman who nursed his mother, and never tells anyone, but is just as generous and patient and good as he can be."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So he is, dear old fellow!" said Laurie heartily, as Meg paused, looking flushed and earnest with her story. "It's like Grandpa to find out all about him without letting him know, and to tell all his goodness to others, so that they might like him. Brooke couldn't understand why your mother was so kind to him, asking him over with me and treating him in her beautiful friendly way. He thought she was just perfect, and talked about it for days and days, and went on about you all in flaming style. If ever I do get my wish, you see what I'll do for Booke."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Begin to do something now by not plaguing his life out," said Meg sharply.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How do you know I do, Miss?" "I can always tell by his face when he goes away. If you have been good, he looks satisfied and walks briskly. If you have plagued him, he's sober and walks slowly, as if he wanted to go back and do his work better."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I like that? So you keep an account of my good and bad marks in Brooke's face, do you? I see him bow and smile as he passes your window, but I didn't know you'd got up a telegraph."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We haven't. Don't be angry, and oh, don't tell him I said anything! It was only to show that I cared how you get on, and what is said here is said in confidence, you know," cried Meg, much alarmed at the thought of what might follow from her careless speech.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't tell tales," replied Laurie, with his `high and mighty' air, as Jo called a certain expression which he occasionally wore. "Only if Brooke is going to be a thermometer, I must mind and have fair weather for him to report."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Please don't be offended. I didn't meant to preach or tell tales or be silly. I only thought Jo was encouraging you in a feeling which you'd be sorry for by-and-by. You are so kind to us, we feel as if you were our brother and say just what we think. Forgive me, I meant it kindly." And Meg offered her hand with a gesture both affectionate and timid.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Ashamed of his momentary pique, Laurie squeezed the kind little hand, and said frankly, "I'm the one to be forgiven. I'm cross and have been out of sorts all day. I like to have you tell me my faults and be sisterly, so don't mind if I am grumpy sometimes. I thank you all the same."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Bent on showing that he was not offended, he made himself as agreeable as possible, wound cotton for Meg, recited poetry to please Jo, shook down cones for Beth, and helped Amy with her ferns, proving himself a fit person to belong to the `Busy Bee Society'. In the midst of an animated discussion on the domestic habits of turtles (one of those amiable creatures having strolled up from the river), the faint sound of a bell warned them that Hannah had put the tea `to draw', and they would just have time to get home to supper.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"May I come again?" asked Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, if your are good, and love your book, as the boys in the primer are told to do," said Meg, smiling.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"i'll try."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then you may come, and I'll teach you to knit as the Scotchmen do. There's a demand for socks just now," added Jo, waving hers like a big blue worsted banner as they parted at the gate.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">That night, when Beth played to Mr. Laurence in the twilight, Laurie, standing in the shadow of the curtain, listened to the little David, whose simple music always quieted his moody spirit, and watched the old man, who sat with his gray head on his hand, thinking tender thoughts of the dead child he had loved so much. Remembering the conversation of the afternoon, the boy said to himself, with the resolve to make the sacrifice cheerfully, "I'll let my castle go, and stay with the dear old gentleman while he needs me, for I am all he has."</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-92094371831135446562022-08-02T10:52:00.002+05:302022-08-02T10:52:42.153+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER TWELVE - Camp Laurence - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Beth was postmistress, for, being most at home, she could attend to it regularly, and dearly liked the daily task of unlocking the little door and distributing the mail. One July day she came in with her hands full, and went about the house leaving letters and parcels like the penny post.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here's your posy, Mother! Laurie never forgets that," she said, putting the fresh nosegay in the vase that stood in `Marmee's corner', and was kept supplied by the affectionate boy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Miss Meg March, one letter and a glove," continued Beth, delivering the articles to her sister, who sat near her mother, stitching wristbands.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why, I left a pair over there, and here is only one," said Meg, looking at the gray cotton glove. "Didn't you drop the other in the garden?"</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_2_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_2_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!3" data-google-query-id="CPTJ08e0p_kCFdpxYAodyhQNug" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_2" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_2" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3588316316&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.11~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417695&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twelve-camp-laurence&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416768555&bpp=3&bdt=1077&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=6186899589433&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416768&ga_hid=138224422&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=918&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLRN2owz4G-P1kbECZ1_gHGbPE2CTL4AXs0Wn37iTLCAgyJav828yTKr2NX6dt0EkvEIeA0lluS3ANs&pvsid=1619906886726745&tmod=835622849&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=PYy85oJgu9&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I'm sure I didn't, for there was only one in the office."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I hate to have odd gloves! Never mind, the other may be found. My letter is only a translation of the German song I wanted. I think Mr. Brooke did it, for this isn't Laurie's writing."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. March glanced at Meg, who was looking very pretty in her gingham morning gown, with the little curls blowing about her forehead, and very womanly, as she sat sewing at her little worktable, full of tidy white rolls, so unconscious of the thought in her mother's mind as she sewed and sang, while her fingers flew and her thoughts were busied with girlish fancies as innocent and fresh as the pansies in her belt, that Mrs. March smiled and was satisfied.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Two letters for Doctor Jo, a book, and a funny old hat, which covered the whole post office and stuck outside," said Beth, laughing as she went into the study where Jo sat writing.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What a sly fellow Laurie is! I said I wished bigger hats were the fashion, because I burn my face every hot day. He said,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`Why mind the fashion? Wear a big hat, and be comfortable!' I said I would if I had one, and he has sent me this to try me. I'll wear it for fun, and show him I don't care for the fashion." And hanging the antique broadbrim on a bust of Plato, Jo read her letters.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">One from her mother made her cheeks glow and her eyes fill, for it said to her...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">My Dear:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">I write a little word to tell you with how much satisfaction I watch your efforts to control your temper. You say nothing about your trials, failures, or successes, and think, perhaps, that no one sees them but the Friend whose help you daily ask, if I may trust the well-worn cover of your guidebook. I, too, have seen them all, and heartily believe in the sincerity of your resolution, since it begins to bear fruit. Go on, dear, patiently and bravely, and always believe that no one sympathizes more tenderly with you than your loving...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mother</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That does me good! That's worth millions of money and pecks of praise. Oh, Marmee, I do try! I will keep on trying, and not get tired, since I have you to help me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laying her head on her arms, Jo wet her little romance with a few happy tears. for she had thought that no one saw and appreciated her efforts to be good, and this assurance was doubly precious, doubly encouraging, because unexpected and from the person whose commendation she most valued. Feeling stronger than ever to meet and subdue her Apollyon, she pinned the note inside her frock, as a shield and a reminder, lest she be taken unaware, and proceeded to open her other letter, quite ready for either good or bad news. In a big, dashing hand, Laurie wrote...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Dear Jo, What ho!</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Some english girls and boys are coming to see me tomorrow and I want to have a jolly time. If it's fine, I'm going to pitch my tent in Longmeadow, and row up the whole crew to lunch and croquet--have a fire, make messes, gypsy fashion, and all sorts of larks. They are nice people, and like such things. Brooke will go to keep us boys steady, and Kate Vaughn will play propriety for the girls. I want you all to come, can't let Beth off at any price, and nobody shall worry her. Don't bother about rations, I'll see to that and everything else, only do come, there's a good fellow!</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In a tearing hurry, Yours ever, Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here's richness!" cried Jo, flying in to tell the news to Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course we can go, Mother? It will be such a help to Laurie, for I can row, and Meg see to the lunch, and the children be useful in some way."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CPHKqdq0p_kCFdByYAoddUMHRg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.28~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417734&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twelve-camp-laurence&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpF7bZUtDU8pch1dDTJSq5buod8zXxkAchMIgHSsVZguqvC_FEAMjPl3ljskMMPYbhxyWnH-bbFCs&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416768581&bpp=2&bdt=1104&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=6186899589433&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416768&ga_hid=138224422&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=2463&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=731&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLRN2owz4G-P1kbECZ1_gHGbPE2CTL4AXs0Wn37iTLCAgyJav828yTKr2NX6dt0EkvEIeA0lluS3ANs&pvsid=1619906886726745&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=96IW03A82J&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I hope the Vaughns are not fine grown-up people. Do you know anything about them, Jo?" asked Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Only that there are four of them. Kate is older than you, Fred and Frank (twins) about my age, and a little girl (Grace), who is nine or ten. Laurie knew them abroad, and liked the boys. I fancied, from the way he primmed up his mouth in speaking of her, that he didn't admire Kate much."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm so glad my French print is clean, it's just the thing and so becoming!" observed Meg complacently. "Have you anything decent, Jo?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Scarlet and gray boating suit, good enough for me. I shall row and tramp about, so I don't want any starch to think of. You'll come, Betty?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If you won't let any boys talk to me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not a boy!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I like to please Laurie, and I'm not afraid of Mr. Brooke, he is so kind. But I don't want to play, or sing, or say anything. I'll work hard and not trouble anyone, and you'll take care of me, Jo, so I'll go."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's my good girl. You do try to fight off your shyness, and I love you for it. Fighting faults isn't easy, as I know, and a cheery word kind of gives a lift. Thank you, Mother," And Jo gave the thin cheek a grateful kiss, more precious to Mrs. March than if it had given back the rosy roundness of her youth.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="COeExdq0p_kCFZTDTAIdXZoOoQ" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.36~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417734&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twelve-camp-laurence&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpF7bZUtDU8pch1dDTJSq5buod8zXxkAchMIgHSsVZguqvC_FEAMjPl3ljskMMPYbhxyWnH-bbFCs&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416768612&bpp=5&bdt=1135&idt=6&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=6186899589433&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416768&ga_hid=138224422&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3033&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=1220&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLRN2owz4G-P1kbECZ1_gHGbPE2CTL4AXs0Wn37iTLCAgyJav828yTKr2NX6dt0EkvEIeA0lluS3ANs&pvsid=1619906886726745&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=Nffh6FJj0I&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I had a box of chocolate drops, and the picture I wanted to copy," said Amy, showing her mail.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And I got a note from Mr. Laurence, asking me to come over and play to him tonight, before the lamps are lighted, and I shall go," added Beth, whose friendship with the old gentleman prospered finely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now let's fly round, and do double duty today, so that we can play tomorrow with free minds," said Jo, preparing to replace her pen with a broom.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When the sun peeped into the girls' room early next morning to promise them a fine day, he saw a comical sight. Each had made such preparation for the fete as seemed necessary and proper. Meg had an extra row of little curlpapers across her forehead, Jo had copiously anointed her afflicted face with cold cream, Beth had taken Joanna to bed with her to atone for the approaching separation, and Amy had capped the climax by putting a colthespin on her nose to uplift the offending feature. It was one of the kind artists use to hold the paper on their drawing boards, therefore quite appropriate and effective for the purpose it was now being put. This funny spectacle appeared to amuse the sun, for he burst out with such radiance that Jo woke up and roused her sisters by a hearty laugh at Amy's ornament.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Sunshine and laughter were good omens for a pleasure party, and soon a lively bustle began in both houses. Beth, who was ready first, kept reporting what went on next door, and enlivened her sisters' toilets by frequent telegrams from the window.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There goes the man with the tent! I see Mrs. Barker doing up the lunch in a hamper and a great basket. Now Mr. Laurence is looking up at the sky and the weathercock. I wish he would go too. There's Laurie, looking like a sailor, nice boy! Oh, mercy me! Here's a carriage full of people, a tall lady, a little girl, and two dreadful boys. One is lame, poor thing, he's got a crutch. Laurie didn't tell us that. Be quick, girls! It's getting late. Why, there is Ned Moffat, I do declare. Meg, isn't that the man who bowed to you one day when we were shopping?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So it is. How queer that he should come. I thought he was at the mountains. There is Sallie. I'm glad she got back in time. Am I all right, Jo?" cried Meg in a flutter.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A regular daisy. Hold up your dress and put your hat on straight, it looks sentimental tipped that way and will fly off at the first puff. Now then, come on!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, Jo, you are not going to wear that awful hat? It's too absurd! You shall not make a guy of yourself," remonstrated Meg, as Jo tied down with a red ribbon the broad-brimmed, old-fashioned leghorn Laurie had sent for a joke.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I just will, though, for it's capital, so shady, light, and big. It will make fun, and I don't mind being a guy if I'm comfortable." With that Jo marched straight away and the rest followed, a bright little band of sisters, all looking their best in summer suits, with happy faces under the jaunty hatbrims.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CPCs_Nq0p_kCFRRcYAod8YgLWw" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.46~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417735&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twelve-camp-laurence&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpF7bZUtDU8pch1dDTJSq5buod8zXxkAchMIgHSsVZguqvC_FEAMjPl3ljskMMPYbhxyWnH-bbFCs&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416768646&bpp=3&bdt=1169&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=6186899589433&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416768&ga_hid=138224422&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=4143&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=2430&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLRN2owz4G-P1kbECZ1_gHGbPE2CTL4AXs0Wn37iTLCAgyJav828yTKr2NX6dt0EkvEIeA0lluS3ANs&pvsid=1619906886726745&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=xUeibsVjEF&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie ran to meet and present them to his friends in the most cordial manner. The lawn was the reception room, and for several minutes a lively scene was enacted there. Meg was grateful to see that Miss Kate, though twenty, was dressed with a simplicity which American girls would do well to imitate, and who was much flattered by Mr. Ned's assurances that he came especially to see her. Jo understood why Laurie `primmed up his mouth' when speaking of Kate, for that young lady had a standoff-don't-touch-me air, which contrasted strongly with the free and easy demeanor of the other girls. Beth took an observation of the new boys and decided that the lame one was not `dreadful', but gentle and feeble, and she would be kind to him on that account. Amy found Grace a well-mannered, merry, little person, and after staring dumbly at one another for a few minutes, they suddenly became very good friends.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Tents, lunch, and croquet utensils having been sent on beforehand, the party was soon embarked, and the two boats pushed off together, leaving Mr. Laurence waving his hat on the shore. Laurie and Jo rowed one boat, Mr. Brooke and Ned the other, while Fred Vaughn, the riotous twin, did his best to upset both by paddling about in a wherry like a disturbed water bug. Jo's funny hat deserved a vote of thanks, for it was of general utility. It broke the ice in the beginning by producing a laugh, it created quite a refreshing breeze, flapping to and fro as she rowed, and would make an excellent umbrella for the whole party, if a shower came up, she said. Miss Kate decided that she was `odd', but rather clever, and smiled upon her from afar.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg, in the other boat, was delightfully situated, face to face with the rowers, who both admired the prospect and feathered their oars with uncommon `skill and dexterity'. Mr. Brooke was a grave, silent young man, with handsome brown eyes and a pleasant voice. Meg liked his quiet manners and considered him a walking encyclopedia of useful knowledge. He never talked to her much, but he looked at her a good deal, and she felt sure that he did not regard her with aversion. Ned, being in college, of course put on all the airs which freshmen think it their bounden duty to assume. He was not very wise, but very good-natured, and altogether an excellent person to carry on a picnic. Sallie Gardiner was absorbed in keeping her white pique dress clean and chattering with the ubiquitous Fred, who kept Beth in constant terror by his pranks.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It was not far to Longmeadow, but the tent was pitched and the wickets down by the time they arrived. A pleasant green field, with three wide-spreading oaks in the middle and a smooth strip of turf for croquet.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Welcome to Camp Laurence!" said the young host, as they landed with exclamations of delight.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Brooke is commander in chief, I am commissary general, the other fellows are staff officers, and you, ladies, are company. The tent is for your especial benefit and that oak is your drawing room, this is the messroom and the third is the camp kitchen. Now, let's have a game before it gets hot, and then we'll see about dinner."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Frank, Beth, Amy, and Grace sat down to watch the game played by the other eight. Mr. Brooke chose Meg, Kate, and Fred. Laurie took Sallie, Jo, and Ned. The English played well, but the Americans played better, and contested every inch of the ground as strongly as if the spirit of `76 inspired them. Jo and Fred had several skirmishes and once narrowly escaped high words. Jo was through the last wicket and had missed the stroke, which failure ruffled her a good deal. Fred was close behind her and his turn came before hers. He gave a stroke, his ball hit the wicket, and stopped an inch on the wrong side. No one was very near, and running up to examine, he gave it a sly nudge with his toe, which put it just an inch on the right side.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CKy4q9u0p_kCFUOQwgodbyUKRA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.53~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417736&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twelve-camp-laurence&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpF7bZUtDU8pch1dDTJSq5buod8zXxkAchMIgHSsVZguqvC_FEAMjPl3ljskMMPYbhxyWnH-bbFCs&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416768672&bpp=3&bdt=1195&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=6&correlator=6186899589433&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416768&ga_hid=138224422&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=5478&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=3698&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLRN2owz4G-P1kbECZ1_gHGbPE2CTL4AXs0Wn37iTLCAgyJav828yTKr2NX6dt0EkvEIeA0lluS3ANs&pvsid=1619906886726745&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&xpc=E5sc0d9hgw&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm through! Now, Miss Jo, I'll settle you, and get in first," cried the young gentleman, swinging his mallet for another blow.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You pushed it. I saw you. It's my turn now," said Jo sharply.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Upon my word, I didn't move it. It rolled a bit, perhaps, but that is allowed. So, stand off please, and let me have a go at the stake."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We don't cheat in America, but you can, if you choose," said Jo angrily.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yankees are a deal the most tricky, everybody knows. There you go!" returned Fred, croqueting her ball far away.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo opened her lips to say something rude, but checked herself in time, colored up to her forehead and stood a minute, hammering down a wicket with all her might, while Fred hit the stake and declared himself out with much exultation. She went off to get her ball, and was a long time finding it among the bushes, but she came back, looking cool and quiet, and waited her turn patiently. It took several strokes to regain the place she had lost, and when she got there, the other side had nearly won, for Kate's ball was the last but one and lay near the stake.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"By George, it's all up with us! Goodbye, Kate. Miss Jo owes me one, so you are finished," cried Fred excitedly, as they all drew near to see the finish.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yankees have a trick of being generous to their enemies," said Jo, with a look that made the lad redden, "especially when they beat them," she added, as, leaving Kate's ball untouched, she won the game by a clever stroke.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie threw up his hat, then remembered that it wouldn't do to exult over the defeat of his guests, and stopped in the middle of the cheer to whisper to his friend, "Good for you, Jo! He did cheat, I saw him. We can't tell him so, but he won't do it again, take my word for it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg drew her aside, under pretense of pinning up a loose braid, and said approvingly, "It was dreadfully provoking, but you kept your temper, and I'm so glad, Jo."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't praise me, Meg, for I could box his ears this minute. I should certainly have boiled over if I hadn't stayed among the nettles till I got my rage under control enough to hold my tongue.. It's simmering now, so I hope he'll keep out of my way," returned Jo, biting her lips as she glowered at Fred from under her big hat.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Time for lunch," said Mr. Brooke, looking at his watch. "Commissary general, will you make the fire and get water, while Miss March, Miss Sallie, and I spread the table? Who can make good coffee?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Jo can," said Meg, glad to recommend her sister. So Jo, feeling that her late lessons in cookery were to do her honor, went to preside over the coffeepot, while the children collected dry sticks, and the boys made a fire and got water from a spring near by. Miss Kate sketched and Frank talked to Beth, who was making little mats of braided rushes to serve as plates.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The commander in chief and his aides soon spread the tablecloth with an inviting array of eatables and drinkables, prettily decorated with green leaves. Jo announced that the coffee was ready, and everyone settled themselves to a hearty meal, for youth is seldom dyspeptic, and exercise develops wholesome appetites. A very merry lunch it was, for everything seemed fresh and funny, and frequent peals of laughter startled a venerable horse who fed near by. There was a pleasing inequality in the table, which produced many mishaps to cups and plates, acorns dropped in the milk, little black ants partook of the refreshments without being invited, and fuzzy caterpillars swung down from the tree to see what was going on. Three white-headed children peeped over the fence, and an objectionable dog barked at them from the other side of the river with all his might and main.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There's salt here," said Laurie, as he handed Jo a saucer of berries.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Thank you, I prefer spiders," she replied, fishing up two unwary little ones who had gone to a creamy death. "How dare you remind me of that horrid dinner party, when your's is so nice in every way?' added Jo, as they both laughed and ate out of one plate, the china having run short.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I had an uncommonly good time that day, and haven't got over it yet. This is no credit to me, you know, I don't do anything. It's you and Meg and Brooke who make it all go, and I'm no end obliged to you. what shall we do when we can't eat anymore?" asked Laurie, feeling that his trump card had been played when lunch was over.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_7_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_7_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!8" data-google-query-id="CLu26tu0p_kCFYZJYAodVLgFKA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_7" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_7" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=544027183&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.70~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417737&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-twelve-camp-laurence&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpF7bZUtDU8pch1dDTJSq5buod8zXxkAchMIgHSsVZguqvC_FEAMjPl3ljskMMPYbhxyWnH-bbFCs&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416768693&bpp=3&bdt=1215&idt=3&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=7&correlator=6186899589433&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416768&ga_hid=138224422&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=7263&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=5522&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669%2C42531608&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPLRN2owz4G-P1kbECZ1_gHGbPE2CTL4AXs0Wn37iTLCAgyJav828yTKr2NX6dt0EkvEIeA0lluS3ANs&pvsid=1619906886726745&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=8&uci=a!8&btvi=6&fsb=1&xpc=iGgh7AXkNS&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Have games till it's cooler. I brought Authors, and I dare say Miss Kate knows something new and nice. Go and ask her. She's company, and you ought to stay with her more."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Aren't you company too? I thought she'd suit Brooke, but he keeps talking to Meg, and Kate just stares at them through that ridiculous glass of hers'. I'm going, so you needn't try to preach propriety, for you can't do it, Jo."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Miss Kate did know several new games, and as the girls would not, and the boys could not, eat any more, they all adjourned to the drawing room to play Rig-marole.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"One person begins a story, any nonsense you like, and tells as long as he pleases, only taking care to stop short at some exciting point, when the next takes it up and does the same. It's very funny when well done, and makes a perfect jumble of tragical comical stuff to laugh over. Please start it, Mr. Brooke," said Kate, with a commanding air, which surprised Meg, who treated the tutor with as much respect as any other gentleman.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Lying on the grass at the feet of the two young ladies, Mr. Brooke obediently began the story, with the handsome brown eyes steadily fixed upon the sunshiny river.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Once on a time, a knight went out into the world to seek his fortune, for he had nothing but his sword and his shield. He traveled a long while, nearly eight-and-twenty years, and had a hard time of it, till he came to the palace of a good old king, who had offered a reward to anyone who could tame and train a fine but unbroken colt, of which he was very fond. The knight agreed to try, and got on slowly but surely, for the colt was a gallant fellow, and soon learned to love his new master, though he was freakish and wild. Every day, when he gave his lessons to this pet of the king's, the knight rode him through the city, and as he rode, he looked everywhere for a certain beautiful face, which he had seen many times in his dreams, but never found. One day, as he went prancing down a quiet street, he saw at the window of a ruinous castle the lovely face. He was delighted, inquired who lived in this old castle, and was told that several captive princesses were kept there by a spell, and spun all day to lay up money to buy their liberty. The knight wished intensely that he could free them, but he was poor and could only go by each day, watching for the sweet face and longing to see it out in the sunshine. At last he resolved to get into the castle and ask how he could help them. He went and knocked. The great door flew open, and he beheld . .."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A ravishingly lovely lady, who exclaimed, with a cry of rapture, `At last! At last!'" continued Kate, who had read French novels, and admired the style. "`Tis she!' cried Count Gustave, and fell at her feet in an ecstasy of joy. `Oh, rise!' she said, extending a hand of marble fairness. `Never! Till you tell me how I may rescue you, ' swore the knight, still kneeling.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`Alas, my cruel fate condemns me to remain here till my tyrant is destroyed.' `Where is the villain?' `In the mauve salon. Go, brave heart, and save me from despair.' `I obey, and return victorious or dead!' With these thrilling words he rushed away, and flinging open the door of the mauve salon, was about to enter, when he received..." "A stunning blow from the big Greek lexicon, which an old fellow in a black gown fired at him," said Ned. "Instantly, Sir What's-his-name recovered himself, pitched the tyrant out of the window, and turned to join the lady, victorious, but with a bump on his brow, found the door locked, tore up the curtains, made a rope ladder, got halfway down when the ladder broke, and he went headfirst into the moat, sixty feet below. Could swim like a duck, paddled round the castle till he came to a little door guarded by two stout fellows, knocked their heads together till they cracked like a couple of nuts, then, by a trifling exertion of his prodigious strength, he smashed in the door, went up a pair of stone steps covered with dust a foot thick, toads as big as your fist, and spiders that would frighten you into hysterics, MIss March. At the top of these steps he came plump upon a sight that took his breath away and chilled his blood..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A tall figure, all in white with a veil over its face and a lamp in its wasted hand," went on Meg. "It beckoned, gliding noiselessly before him down a corridor as dark and cold as any tomb. Shadowy effigies in armor stood on either side, a dead silence reigned, the lamp burned blue, and the ghostly figure ever and anon turned its face toward him, showing the glitter of awful eyes through its white veil. They reached a curtained door, behind which sounded lovely music. He sprang forward to enter, but the specter plucked him back, and waved threateningly before him a..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Snuffbox," said Jo, in a sepulchral tone, which convulsed the audience. "`Thankee, ' said the knight politely, as he took a pinch and sneezed seven times so violently that his head fell off. `Ha! Ha!' laughed the ghost, and having peeped through the keyhole at the princesses spinning away for dear life, the evil spirit picked up her victim and put him in a large tin box, where there were eleven other knights packed together without their heads, like sardines, who all rose and began to..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Dance a hornpipe," cut in Fred, as Jo paused for breath, "and, as they danced, the rubbishy old castle turned to a man-of-war in full sail. `Up with the jib, reef the tops'l halliards, helm hard alee, and man the guns!' roared the captain, as a Portuguese pirate hove in sight, with a flag black as ink flying from her foremast.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`Go in and win, my hearties!' says the captain, and a tremendous fight began. Of course the British beat, they always do."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, they don't!" cried Jo, aside.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Having taken the pirate captain prisoner, sailed slap over the schooner, whose decks were piled high with dead and whose lee scuppers ran blood, for the order had been `Cutlasses, and die hard!' `Bosun's mate, take a bight of the flying-jib sheet, and start this villain if he doesn't confess his sins double quick, ' said the British captain. The Portuguese held his tongue like a brick, and walked the plank, while the jolly tars cheered like mad. But the sly dog dived, came up under the man-of-war, scuttled her, and down she went, with all sail set, `To the bottom of the sea, sea, sea' where..." "Oh, gracious! What shall I say?" cried Sallie, as Fred ended his rigmarole, in which he had jumbled together pell-mell nautical phrases and facts out of one of his favorite books. "Well, they went to the bottom, and a nice mermaid welcomed them, but was much grieved on finding the box of headless knights, and kindly pickled them in brine, hoping to discover the mystery about them, for being a woman, she was curious. By-and-by a diver came down, and the mermaid said, `I'll give you a box of pearls if you can take it up, ' for she wanted to restore the poor things to life, and couldn't raise the heavy load herself. So the diver hoisted it up, and was much disappointed on opening it to find no pearls. He left it in a great lonely field, where it was found by a..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Little goose girl, who kept a hundred fat geese in the field," said Amy, when Sallie's invention gave out. "The little girl was sorry for them, and asked an old woman what she should do to help them. `Your geese will tell you, they know everything.' said the old woman. So she asked what she should use for new heads, since the old ones were lost, and all the geese opened their hundred mouths and screamed..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"`Cabbages!'" continued Laurie promptly. "`Just the thing, ' said the girl, and ran to get twelve fine ones from her garden. She put them on, the knights revived at once, thanked her, and went on their way rejoicing, never knowing the difference, for there were so many other heads like them in the world that no one thought anything of it. The knight in whom I'm interest went back to find the pretty face, and learned that the princesses had spun themselves free and all gone and married, but one. He was in a great state of mind at that, and mounting the colt, who stood by him through thick and thin, rushed to the castle to see which was left. Peeping over the hedge, he saw the queen of his affections picking flowers in her garden. `Will you give me a rose?' said he. `You must come and get it. I can't come to you, it isn't proper, ' said she, as sweet as honey. He tried to climb over the hedge, but it seemed to grow higher and higher. Then he tried to push through, but it grew thicker and thicker, and he was in despair. So he patiently broke twig after twig till he had made a little hole through which he peeped, saying imploringly,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`Let me in! Let me in!' But the pretty princess did not seem to understand, for she picked her roses quietly, and left him to fight his way in. Whether he did or not, Frank will tell you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I can't. I'm not playing, I never do," said Frank, dismayed at the sentimental predicament out of which he was to rescue the absurd couple. Beth had disappeared behind Jo, and Grace was asleep.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So the poor knight is to be left sticking in the hedge, is he?" asked Mr. Brooke, still watching the river, and playing with the wild rose in his buttonhole.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I guess the princess gave him a posy, and opened the gate after a while," said Laurie, smiling to himself, as he threw acorns at his tutor.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What a piece of nonsense we have made! With practice we might do something quite clever. Do you know Truth?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I hope so," said Meg soberly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The game, I mean?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"what is it?" said Fred.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why, you pile up your hands, choose a number, and draw out in turn, and the person who draws at the number has to answer truly any question put by the rest. It's great fun."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Let's try it," said Jo, who liked new experiments.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Miss Kate and Mr. Booke, Meg, and Ned declined, but Fred, Sallie, Jo, and Laurie piled and drew, and the lot fell to Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Who are your heroes?" asked Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Grandfather and Napoleon."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Which lady here do you think prettiest?" said Sallie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Margaret."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Which do you like best?" from Fred.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Jo, of course." "What silly questions you ask!" And Jo gave a disdainful shrug as the rest laughed at Laurie's matter-of-fact tone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Try again. Truth isn't a bad game," said Fred.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's a very good one for you," retorted Jo in a low voice. Her turn came next.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What is your greatest fault?' asked Fred, by way of testing in her the virtue he lacked himself.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A quick temper."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What do you most wish for?" said Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A pair of boot lacings," returned Jo, guessing and defeating his purpose.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not a true answer. You must say what you really do want most."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Genius. Don't you wish you could give it to me, Laurie?" And she slyly smiled in his disappointed face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What virtues do you most admire in a man?" asked Sallie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Courage and honesty."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now my turn," said Fred, as his hand came last.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Let's give it to him," whispered Laurie to Jo, who nodded and asked at once...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Didn't you cheat at croquet?'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, yes, a little bit."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Good! Didn't you take your story out of THE SEA LION?" said Laurie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Rather."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't you think the English nation perfect in every respect?" asked Sallie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I should be ashamed of myself if I didn't."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He's a true John Bull. Now, Miss Sallie, you shall have a chance without waiting to draw. I'll harrrow up your feelings first by asking if you don't think you are something of a flirt," said Laurie, as Jo nodded to Fred as a sign that peace was declared.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You impertinent boy! Of course I'm not," exclaimed Sallie, with an air that proved the contrary.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What do you hate most?" asked Fred.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Spiders and rice pudding."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What do you like best?" asked Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Dancing and French gloves."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I think Truth is a very silly play. Let's have a sensible game of Authors to refresh our minds," proposed Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Ned, frank, and the little girls joined in this, and while it went on, the three elders sat apart, talking. Miss Kate took out her sketch again, and Margaret watched her, while Mr. Brooke lay on the grass with a book, which he did not read.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How beautifully you do it! I wish I could draw," said Meg, with mingled admiration and regret in her voice.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why don't you learn? I should think you had taste and talent for it," replied Miss Kate graciously.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I haven't time."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Your mamma prefers other accomplishments, I fancy. So did mine, but I proved to her that I had talent by taking a few lessons privately, and then she was quite willing I should go on. Can't you do the same with your governess?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I have none."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I forgot young ladies in America go to school more than with us. Very fine schools they are, too, Papa says. You go to a private one, I suppose?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't go at all. I am a governess myself."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh. indeed!" said Miss Kate, but she might as well have said, "Dear me, how dreadful!" for her tone implied it, and something in her face made Meg color, and wish she had not been so frank.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. Brooke looked up and said quickly, Young ladies in America love independence as much as their ancestors did, and are admired and respected for supporting themselves."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, yes, of course it's very nice and proper in them to do so. We have many most respectable and worthy young women who do the same and are employed by the nobility, because, being the daughters of gentlemen, they are both well bred and accomplished, you know," said Miss Kate in a patronizing tone that hurt Meg's pride, and made her work seem not only more distasteful, but degrading.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Did the German song suit, Miss March?" inquired Mr. Brooke, breaking an awkward pause.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, yes! It was very sweet, and I'm much obliged to whoever translated it for me." And Meg's downcast face brightened as she spoke.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't you read German?" asked Miss Kate with a look of surprise.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not very well. My father, who taught me, is away, and I don't get on very fast alone, for I've no one to correct my pronunciation."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Try a little now. Here is Schiller's Mary Stuart and a tutor who loves to teach." And Mr. Brooke laid his book on her lap with an inviting smile.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's so hard I'm afraid to try," said Meg, grateful, but bashful in the presence of the accomplished young lady beside her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll read a bit to encourage you." And Miss Kate read one of the most beautiful passages in a perfectly correct but perfectly expressionless manner.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. Brooke made no comment as she returned the book to Meg, who said innocently, "I thought it was poetry." "Some of it is. Try this passage."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">There was a queer smile about Mr. Brooke's mouth as he opened at poor Mary's lament.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg obediently following the long grass-blade which her new tutor used to point with, read slowly and timidly, unconsciously making poetry of the hard words by the soft intonation of her musical voice. Down the page went the green guide, and presently, forgetting her listener in the beauty of the sad scene, Meg read as if alone, giving a little touch of tragedy to the words of the unhappy queen. If she had seen the brown eyes then, she would have stopped short, but she never looked up, and the lesson was not spoiled for her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Very well indeed!" said Mr. Brooke, as she paused, quite ignoring her many mistakes, and looking as if he did indeed love to teach.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Miss Kate put up her glass, and, having taken a survey of the little tableau before her, shut her sketch book, saying with condescension, "You've a nice accent and in time will be a clever reader. I advise you to learn, for German is a valuable accomplishment to teachers. I must look after Grace, she is romping." And Miss Kate strolled away, adding to herself with a shrug, "I didn't come to chaperone a governess, though she is young and pretty. What odd people these Yankees are. I'm afraid Laurie will be quite spoiled among them."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I forgot that English people rather turn up their noses at governesses and don't treat them as we do," said Meg, looking after the retreating figure with an annoyed expression.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Tutors also have rather a hard time of it there, as I know to my sorrow. There's no place like America for us workers, Miss Margaret." And Mr. Brooke looked so contented and cheerful that Meg was ashamed to lament her hard lot.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm glad I live in it then. I don't like my work, but I get a good deal of satisfaction out of it after all, so I won't complain. I only wished I liked teaching as you do."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I think you would if you had Laurie for a pupil. I shall be very sorry to lose him next year," said Mr. Brooke, busily punching holes in the turf.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Going to college, I suppose?" Meg's lips asked the question, but her eyes added, "And what becomes of you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, it's high time he went, for he is ready, and as soon as he is off, I shall turn soldier. I am needed."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I am glad of that!" exclaimed Meg. "I should think every young man would want to go, though it is hard for the mothers and sisters who stay at home," she added sorrowfully. "I have neither, and very few friends to care whether I live or die," said Mr. Brooke rather bitterly as he absently put the dead rose in the hole he had made and covered it up, like a little grave.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Laurie and his grandfather would care a great deal, and we should all be very sorry to have any harm happen to you," said Meg heartily.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Thank you, that sounds pleasant," began Mr. Brooke, looking cheerful again, but before he could finish his speech, Ned, mounted on the old horse, came lumbering up to display his equestrian skill before the young ladies, and there was no more quiet that day.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't you love to ride?" asked Grace of Amy, as they stood resting after a race round the field with the others, led by Ned.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I dote upon it. My sister, Meg, used to ride when Papa was rich, but we don't keep any horses now, except Ellen Tree," added Amy, laughing.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Tell me about Ellen Tree. Is it a donkey?" asked Grace curiously.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why, you see, Jo is crazy about horses and so am I, but we've only got an old sidesaddle and no horse. Out in our garden is an apple tree that has a nice low branch, so Jo put the saddle on it, fixed some reins on the part that turns up, and we bounce away on Ellen Tree whenever we like."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How funny!" laughed Grace. "I have a pony at home, and ride nearly every day in the park with Fred and Kate. It's very nice, for my friends go too, and the Row is full of ladies and gentlemen."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Dear, how charming! I hope I shall go abroad some day, but I'd rather go to Rome than the row," said Amy, who had not the remotest idea what the Row was and wouldn't have asked for the world.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Frank, sitting just behind the little girls, heard what they were saying, and pushed his crutch away from him with an impatient gesture as he watched the active lads going through all sorts of comical gymnastics. Beth, who was collecting the scattered Author cards, looked up and said, in her shy yet friendly way, "I'm afraid you are tired. Can I do anything for you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Talk to me, please. It's dull, sitting by myself," answered Frank, who had evidently been used to being made much of at home.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">If he asked her to deliver a Latin oration, it would not have seemed a more impossible task to bashful Beth, but there was no place to run to, no Jo to hide behind now, and the poor boy looked so wistfully at her that she bravely resolved to try.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What do you like to talk about?" she asked, fumbling over the cards and dropping half as she tried to tie them up.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I like to hear about cricket and boating and hunting," said Frank, who had not yet learned to suit his amusements to his strength.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">My heart! What shall I do? I don't know anything about them, thought Beth, and forgetting the boy's misfortune in her flurry, she said, hoping to make him talk, "I never saw any hunting, but I suppose you know all about it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I did once, but I can never hunt again, for I got hurt leaping a confounded five-barred gate, so there are no more horses and hounds for me," said Frank with a sigh that made Beth hate herself for her innocent blunder.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Your deer are much prettier than our ugly buffaloes," she said, turning to the prairies for help and feeling glad that she had read one of the boys' books in which Jo delighted.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Buffaloes proved soothing and satisfactory, and in her eagerness to amuse another, Beth forgot herself, and was quite unconscious of her sisters' surprise and delight at the unusual spectacle of Beth talking away to one of the dreadful boys, against whom she had begged protection.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bless her heart! She pities him, so she is good to him," aid Jo, beaming at her from the croquet ground.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I always said she was a little saint," added Meg, as if there could be no further doubt of it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I haven't heard Frank laugh so much for ever so long," said Grace to Amy, as they sat discussing dolls and making tea sets out of the acorn cups.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My sister Beth is a very fastidious girl, when she likes to be," said Amy, well pleased at Beth's success. She meant `facinating', but as Grace didn't know the exact meaning of either word, fastidious sounded well and made a good impression.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">An impromptu circus, fox and geese, and an amicable game of croquet finished the afternoon. At sunset the tent was struck, hampers packed, wickets pulled up, boats loaded, and the whole party floated down the river, singing at the tops of their voices. Ned, getting sentimental, warbled a serenade with the pensive refrain...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Alone, alone, ah! Woe, alone,</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">and at the lines...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">We each are young, we each have a heart, Oh, why should we stand thus coldly apart?</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">he looked at Meg with such a lackadiasical expression that she laughed outright and spoiled his song.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How can you be so cruel to me?" he whispered, under cover of a lively chorus. "You've kept close to that starched-up Englishwoman all day, and now you snub me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I didn't mean to, but you looked so funny I really couldn't help it," replied Meg, passing over the first part of his reproach, for it was quite true that she had shunned him, remembering the Moffat party and the talk after it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Ned was offended and turned to Sallie for consolation, saying to her rather pettishly, "There isn't a bit of flirt in that girl, is there?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not a particle, but she's a dear," returned Sallie, defending her friend even while confessing her shortcomings.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"She's not a stricken deer anyway," said Ned, trying to be witty, and succeeding as well as very young gentlemen usually do.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">On the lawn where it had gathered, the little party separated with cordial good nights and good-bys, for the Vaughns were going to Canada. As the four sisters went home through the garden, Miss Kate looked after them, saying, without the patronizing tone in her voice, "In spite of their demonstrative manners, American girls are very nice when one knows them."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I quite agree with you," said Mr. Brooke.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-57245404705559262812022-08-02T10:51:00.002+05:302022-08-02T10:51:13.197+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER ELEVEN - Experiments - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The first of June! The Kings are off to the seashore tomorrow, and I'm free. Three months' vacation--how I shall enjoy it!" exclaimed Meg, coming home one warm day to find Jo laid upon the sofa in an unusual state of exhaustion, while Beth took off her dusty boots, and Amy made lemonade for the refreshment of the whole party.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Aunt March went today, for which, oh, be joyful!" said Jo. "I was mortally afraid she'd ask me to go with her. If she had, I should have felt as if I ought to do it, but Plumfield is about as gay as a churchyard, you know, and I'd rather be excused. We had a flurry getting the old lady off, and I had a fright every time she spoke to me, for I was in such a hurry to be through that I was uncommonly helpful and sweet, and feared she'd find it impossible to part from me. I quaked till she was fairly in the carriage, and had a final fright, for as it drove of, she popped out her head, saying, `Josyphine, won't you--?' I didn't hear any more, for I basely turned and fled. I did actually run, and whisked round the corner whee I felt safe."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Poor old Jo! She came in looking as if bears were after her," said Beth, as she cuddled her sister's feet with a motherly air.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Aunt March is a regular samphire, is she not?" observed Amy, tasting her mixture critically.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"She means vampire, not seaweed, but it doesn't matter. It's too warm to be particular about one's parts of speech," murmured Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What shall you do all your vacation?" asked Amy, changing the subject with tact.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I shall lie abed late, and do nothing," replied Meg, from the depths of the rocking chair. "I've been routed up early all winter and had to spend my days working for other people, so now I'm going to rest and revel to my heart's content."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No," said Jo, "that dozy way wouldn't suit me. I've laid in a heap of books, and I'm going to improve my shining hours reading on my perch in the old apple tree, when I'm not having l..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't say `larks!'" implored Amy, as a return snub for the samphire' correction.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll say `nightingales' then, with Laurie. That's proper and appropriate, since he's a warbler."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't let us do any lessons, Beth, for a while, but play all the time and rest, as the girls mean to," proposed Amy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I will, if Mother doesn't mind. I want to learn some new songs, and my children need fitting up for the summer. They are dreadfully out of order and really suffering for clothes."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"May we, Mother?" asked Meg, turning to Mrs. March, who sat sewing in what they called `Marmee's corner'. "You may try your experiment for a week and see how you like it. I think by Saturday night you will find that all play and no work is as bad as all work and no play."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, dear, no! It will be delicious, I'm sure," said Meg complacently.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I now propose a toast, as my `friend and pardner, Sairy Gamp', says. Fun forever, and no grubbing!" cried Jo, rising, glass in hand, as the lemonade went round.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They all drank it merrily, and began the experiment by lounging for the rest of the day. Next morning, Meg did not appear till ten o'clock. Her solitary breakfast did not taste nice, and the room seemed lonely and untidy, for Jo had not filled the vases, Beth had not dusted, and Amy's books lay scattered about. Nothing was neat and pleasant but `Marmee's corner', which looked as usual. And there Meg sat, to `rest and read', which meant to yawn and imagine what pretty summer dresses she would get with her salary. Jo spent the morning on the river with Laurie and the afternoon reading and crying over The Wide, Wide World, up in the apple tree. Beth began by rummaging everything out of the big closet where her family resided, but getting tired before half done, she left her establishment topsy-turvy and went to her music, rejoicing that she had no dishes to wash. Amy arranged her bower, put on her best white frock, smoothed her curls, and sat down to draw under the honeysuckle, hoping someone would see and inquire who the young artist was. As no one appeared but an inquisitive daddy-longlegs, who examined her work with interest, she went to walk, got caught in a shower, and came home dripping.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">At teatime they compared notes, and all agreed that it had been a delightful, though unusually long day. Meg, who went shopping in the afternoon and got a `sweet blue muslin, had discovered, after she had cut the breadths off, that it wouldn't wash, which mishap made her slightly cross. Jo had burned the skin off her nose boating, and got a raging headache by reading too long. Beth was worried by the confusion of her closet and the difficulty of learning three or four songs at once, and Amy deeply regretted the damage done her frock, for Katy Brown's party was to be the next day and now like Flora McFlimsey, she had `nothing to wear'. But these were mere trifles, and they assured their mother that the experiment was working finely. She smiled, said nothing, and with Hannah's help did their neglected work, keeping home pleasant and the domestic machinery running smoothly. It was astonishing what a peculiar and uncomfortable state of things was produced by the</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`resting and reveling' process. The days kept getting longer and longer, the weather was unusually variable and so were tempers, and unsettled feeling possessed everyone, and Satan found plenty of mischief for the idle hands to do. As the height of luxury, Meg put out some of her sewing, and then found time hang so heavily that she fell to snipping and spoiling her clothes in her attempts to furbish them up a`la Moffat. Jo read till her eyes gave out and she was sick of books, got so fidgety that even good-natured Laurie had a quarrel with her, and so reduced in spirits that she desperately wished she had gone with Aunt March. Beth got on pretty well, for she was constantly forgetting that it was to be all play and no work, and fell back into her old ways now and then. But something in the air affected her, and more than once her tranquility was much disturbed, so much so that on one occasion she actually shook poor dear Joanna and told her she was a fright'. Amy fared worst of all, for her resources were small, and when her sisters left her to amuse herself, she soon found that accomplished and important little self a great burden. She didn't like dolls, fairy tales were childish, and one couldn't draw all the time. Tea parties didn't amount to much neither did picnics unless very well conducted. "If one could have a fine house, full of nice girls, or go traveling, the summer would be delightful, but to stay at home with three selfish sisters and a grown-up boy was enough to try the patience of a Boaz," complained Miss Malaprop, after several days devoted to pleasure, fretting, and ennui.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">No one would own that they were tired of the experiment, but by Friday night each acknowledged to herself that she was glad the week was nearly done. Hoping to impress the lesson more deeply, Mrs. March, who had a good deal of humor, resolved to finish off the trial in an appropriate manner, so she gave Hannah a holiday and let the girls enjoy the full effect of the play system.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When they got up on Saturday morning, there was no fire in the kitchen, no breakfast in the dining room, and no mother anywhere to be seen.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mercy on us! What has happened?" cried Jo, staring about her in dismay.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg ran upstairs and soon came back again, looking relieved but rather bewildered, and a little ashamed.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mother isn't sick, only very tired, and she says she is going to stay quietly in her room all day and let us do the best we can. It's a very queer thing for her to do, she doesn't act a bit like herself. But she says it has been a hard week for her, so we mustn't grumble but take care of ourselves."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's easy enough, and I like the idea, I'm aching for something to do, that is, some new amusement, you know," added Jo quickly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In fact it was an immense relief to them all to have a little work, and they took hold with a will, but soon realized the truth of Hannah's saying, "Housekeeping ain't no joke." There was plenty of food in the larder, and while Beth and Amy set the table, Meg and Jo got breakfast, wondering as they did why servants ever talked about hard work.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I shall take some up to Mother, though she said we were not to think of her, for she'd take care of herself," said Meg, who presided and felt quite matronly behind the teapot.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">So a tray was fitted out before anyone began, and taken up with the cook's compliments. The boiled tea was very bitter, the omelet scorched, and the biscuits speckled with saleratus, but Mrs. March received her repast with thanks and laughed heartily over it after Jo was gone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Poor little souls, they will have a hard time, I'm afraid, but they won't suffer, and it will do them good," she said, producing the more palatable viands with which she had provided herself, and disposing of the bad breakfast, so that their feelings might not be hurt, a motherly little deception for which they were grateful.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Many were the complaints below, and great the chagrin of the head cook at her failures. "Never mind, I'll get the dinner and be servant, you be mistress, keep your hands nice, see company, and give orders," said Jo, who knew still less than Meg, about culinary affairs.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">This obliging offer was gladly accepted, and Margaret retired to the parlor, which she hastily put in order by whisking the litter under the sofa and shutting the blinds to save the trouble of dusting. Jo, with perfect faith in her own powers and a friendly desire to make up the quarrel, immediately put a note in the office, inviting Laurie to dinner.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'd better see what you have got before you think of having company," said Meg, when informed of the hospitable but rash act.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, there's corned beef and plenty of poatoes, and I shall get some asparagus and a lobster, `for a relish', as Hannah says. We'll have lettuce and make a salad. I don't know how, but the book tells. I'll have blancmange and strawberries for dessert, and coffee too, if you want to be elegant."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't try too many messes, Jo, for you can't make anything but gingerbread and molasses candy fit to eat. I wash my hands of the dinner party, and since you have asked Laurie on your own responsibility, you may just take care of him."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't want you to do anything but be civil to him and help to the pudding. You'll give me your advice if I get in a muddle, won't you?" asked Jo, rather hurt.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, but I don't know much, except about bread and a few trifles. You had better ask Mother's leave before you order anything," returned Meg prudently.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course I shall. I'm not a fool." And Jo went off in a huff at the doubts expressed of her powers.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Get what you like, and don't disturb me. I'm going out to dinner and can't worry about things at home," said Mrs. March, when Jo spoke to her. "I never enjoyed housekeeping, and I'm going to take a vacation today, and read, write, go visiting, and amuse myself."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The unusual spectacle of her busy mother rocking comfortably and reading early in the morning made Jo feel as if some unnatural phenomenon had occurred, for an eclipse, an earthquake, or a volcanic eruption would hardly have seemed stranger.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Everything is out of sorts, somehow," she said to herself, going downstairs. "There's Beth crying, that's a sure sign that something is wrong in this family. If Amy is bothering, I'll shake her."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Feeling very much out of sorts herself, Jo hurried into the parlor to find Beth sobbing over Pip, the canary, who lay dead in the cage with his little claws pathetically extended, as if imploring the food for want of which he had died.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's all my fault, I forgot him, there isn't a seed or a drop left. Oh, Pip! Oh, Pip! How could I be so cruel to you?" cried Beth, taking the poor thing in her hands and trying to restore him.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo peeped into his half-open eye, felt his little heart, and finding him stiff and cold, shook her head, and offered her domino box for a coffin.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Put him in the oven, and maybe his will get warm and revive," said Amy hopefully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He's been starved, and he shan't be baked now he's dead. I'll make him a shroud, and he shall be buried in the garden, and I'll never have another bird, never, my Pip! For I am too bad to own one," murmured Beth, sitting on the floor with her pet folded in her hands.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The funeral shall be this afternoon, and we will all go. Now, don't cry, Bethy. It's a pity, but nothing goes right this week, and Pip has had the worst of the experiment. Make the shroud, and lay him in my box, and after the dinner party, we'll have a nice little funeral," said Jo, beginning to feel as if she had undertaken a good deal.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Leaving the others to console Beth, she departed to the kitchen, which was in a most discouraging state of confusion. Putting on a big apron, she fell to work and got the dishes piled up ready for washing, when she discovered that the fire was out.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here's a sweet prospect!" muttered Jo, slamming the stove door open, and poking vigorously among the cinders.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Having rekindled the fire, she thought she would go to market while the water heated. The walk revived her spirits, and flattering herself that she had made good bargins, she trudged home again, after buying a very young lobster, some very old asparagus, and two boxes of acid strawberries. By the time she got cleared up, the dinner arrived and the stove was red-hot. Hannah had left a pan of bread to rise, Meg had worked it up early, set it on the hearth for a second rising, and forgotten it. Meg was entertaining Sallie Gardiner in the parlor, when the door flew open and a floury, crocky, flushed, and disheveled figure appeared, demanding tartly...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I say, isn't bread `riz' enough when it runs over the pans?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Sallie began to laugh, but Meg nodded and lifted her eyebrows as high as they would go, which caused the apparition to vanish and put the sour bread into the oven without further delay. Mrs. March went out, after peeping here and there to see how matters went, also saying a word of comfort to Beth, who sat making a winding sheet, while the dear departed lay in state in the domino box. A strange sense of helplessness fell upon the girls as the gray bonnet vanished round the corner, and despair seized them when a few minutes later Miss Crocker appeared, and said she'd come to dinner. Now this lady was a thin, yellow spinster, with a sharp nose and inquisitive eyes, who saw everything and gossiped about all she saw. They disliked her, but had been taught to be kind to her, simply because she was old and poor and had few friends. So Meg gave her the easy chair and tried to entertain her, while she asked questions, critsized everything, and told stories of the people whom she knew.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Language cannot describe the anxieties, experiences, and exertions which Jo underwent that morning, and the dinner she served up became a standing joke. Fearing to ask any more advice, she did her best alone, and discovered that something more than energy and good will is necessary to make a cook. She boiled the asparagus for an hour and was grieved to find the heads cooked off and the stalks harder than ever. The bread burned black, for the salad dressing so aggravated her that she could not make it fit to ear. The lobster was a scarlet mystery to her, but she hammered and poked till it was unshelled and its meager proportions concealed in a grove of lettuce leaves. The potatoes had to be hurried, not to keep the asparagus waiting, and were not done at the last. The blancmange was lumpy, and the strawberries not as ripe as they looked, having been skilfully `deaconed'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, they can eat beef and bread and butter, if they are hungry, only it's mortifying to have to spend your whole morning for nothing," thought Jo, as she rang the bell half an hour later than usual, and stood, hot, tired, and dispirited, surveying the feast spread before Laurie, accustomed to all sorts of elegance, and Miss Crocker, whose tattling tongue would report them far and wide.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Poor Jo would gladly have gone under the table, as one thing after another was tasted and left, while Amy giggled, Meg looked distressed, Miss Crocker pursed her lips, and Laurie talked and laughed with all his might to give a cheerful tone to the festive scene. Jo's one strong point was the fruit, for she had sugared it well, and had a pitcher of rich cream to eat with it. Her hot cheeks cooled a trifle, and she drew a long breath as the pretty glass plates went round, and everyone looked graciously at the little rosy islands floating in a sea of cream. Miss Crocker tasted first, made a wry face, and drank some water hastily. Jo, who refused, thinking there might not be enough, for they dwindled sadly after the picking over, glanced at Laurie, but he was eating away manfully, though there was a slight pucker about his mouth and he kept his eye fixed on his plate. Amy, who was fond of delicate fare, took a heaping spoonful, choked, hid her face in her napkin, and left the table precipitately.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, what is it?" exclaimed Jo, trembling.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Salt instead of sugar, and the cream is sour," replied Meg with a tragic gesture.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo uttered a groan and fell back in her chair, remembering that she had given a last hasty powdering to the berries out of one of the two boxes on the kitchen table, and had neglected to put the milk in the refrigerator. She turned scarlet and was on the verge of crying, when she met Laurie's eyes, which would look merry in spite of his heroic efforts. The comical side of the affair suddenly struck her, and she laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. So did everyone else, even `Croaker' as the girls called the old lady, and the unfortunate dinner ended gaily, with bread and butter, olives and fun.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I haven't strength of mind enough to clear up now, so we will sober ourselves with a funeral," said Jo, as they rose, and Miss Crocker made ready to go, being eager to tell the new story at another friend's dinner table.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They did sober themselves for Beth's sake. Laurie dug a grave under the ferns in the grove, little Pip was laid in, with many tears by his tender-hearted mistress, and covered with moss, while a wreath of violets and chickweed was hung on the stone which bore his epitaph, composed by Jo while she struggled with the dinner.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Here lies Pip March, Who died the 7th of June; Loved and lamented sore, And not forgotten soon.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">At the conclusion of the ceremonies, Beth retired to her room, overcome with emotion and lobster, but there was no place of repose, for the beds were not made, and she found her grief much assuaged by beating up the pillows and putting things in order. Meg helped Jo clear away the remains of the feast, which took half the afternoon and left them so tired that they agreed to be contented with tea and toast for supper.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie took Amy to drive, which was a deed of charity, for the sour cream seemed to have had a bad effect upon her temper. Mrs. March came home to find the three older girls hard at work in the middle of the afternoon, and a glance at the closet gave her an idea of the success of one part of the experiment.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Before the housewives could rest, several people called, and there was a scramble to get ready to see them. Then tea must be got, errands done, and one or two necessary bits of sewing neglected until the last minute. As twilight fell, dewy and still, one by one they gathered on the porch where the June roses were budding beautifully, and each groaned or sighed as she sat down, as if tired or troubled.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What a dreadful day this has been!" began Jo, usually the first to speak.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It has seemed shorter than usual, but so uncomfortable," said Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not a bit like home," added Amy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It can't seem so without Marmee and little Pip," sighed Beth, glancing with full eyes at the empty cage above her head.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here's Mother, dear, and you shall have another bird tomorrow, if you want it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As she spoke, Mrs. March came and took her place among them, looking as if her holiday had not been much pleasanter than theirs.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Are you satisfied with your experiment, girls, or do you want another week of it?" she asked, as Beth nestled up to her and the rest turned toward her with brightening faces, as flowers turn toward the sun.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't!" cried Jo decidedly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Nor I," echoed the others.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You think then, that it is better to have a few duties and live a little for others, do you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Lounging and larking doesn't pay," observed Jo, shaking her head. "I'm tired of it and mean to go to work at something right off."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Suppose you learn plain cooking. That's a useful accomplishment, which no woman should be without," said Mrs. March, laughing inaudibly at the recollection of Jo's dinner party, for she had met Miss Crocker and heard her account of it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mother, did you go away and let everything be, just to see how we'd get on?" cried Meg, who had had suspicions all day.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, I wanted you to see how the comfort of all depends on each doing her share faithfully. While Hannah and I did your work, you got on pretty well, though I don't think you were very happy or amiable. So I thought, as a little lesson, I would show you what happens when everyone thinks only of herself. Don't you feel that it is pleasanter to help one another, to have daily duties which make leisure sweet when it comes, and to bear and forbear, that home may be comfortable and lovely to us all?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We do, Mother we do!" cried the girls.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then let me advise you to take up your little burdens again, for though they seem heavy sometimes, they are good for us, and lighten as we learn to carry them. Work is wholesome, and there is plenty for everyone. It keeps us from ennui and mischief, is good for health and spirits, and gives us a sense of power and independence better than money or fashion."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We'll work like bees, and love it too, see if we don't," said Jo. "I'll learn plain cooking for my holiday task, and the dinner party I have shall be a success."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll make the set of shirts for father, instead of letting you do it, Marmee. I can and I will, though I'm not fond of sewing. That will be better than fussing over my own things, which are plenty nice enough as they are." said Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll do my lessons every day, and not spend so much time with my music and dolls. I am a stupid thing, and ought to be studying, not playing," was Beth's resolution, while Amy followed their example by heroically declaring, "I shall learn to make buttonholes, and attend to my parts of speech."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Very good! Then I am quite satisfied with the experiment, and fancy that we shall not have to repeat it, only don't go to the other extreme and delve like slaves. Have regular hours for work and play, make each day both useful and pleasant, and prove that you understand the worth of time by employing it well. Then youth will be delightful, old age will bring few regrets, and life become a beautiful success, in spite of poverty."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We'll remember, Mother!" And they did.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-25269079163766288722022-08-02T10:49:00.006+05:302022-08-02T10:49:40.104+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER TEN - The P.C. and P.O. - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">As spring came on, a new set of amusements became the fashion, and the lengthening days gave long afternoons for work and play of all sorts. The garden had to be put in order, and each sister had a quarter of the little plot to do what she liked with. Hannah used to say, "I'd know which each of them gardings belonged to, ef I see 'em in Chiny," and so she might, for the girls' tastes differed as much as their characters. Meg's had roses and heliotrope, myrtle, and a little orange tree in it. Jo's bed was never alike two seasons, for she was always trying experiments. This year it was to be a plantation of sun flowers, the seeds of which cheerful land aspiring plant were to feed Aunt Cockle-top and her family of chicks. Beth had old-fashioned fragrant flowers in her garden, sweet peas and mignonette, larkspur, pinks, pansies, and southernwood, with chickweed for the birds and catnip for the pussies. Amy had a bower in hers, rather small and earwiggy, but very pretty to look at, with honeysuckle and morning-glories hanging their colored horns and bells in graceful wreaths all over it, tall white lilies, delicate ferns, and as many brilliant, picturesque plants as would consent to blossom there.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Gardening, walks, rows on the river, and flower hunts employed the fine days, and for rainy ones, they had house diversions, some old, some new, all more or less original. One of these was the `P.C', for as secret societies were the fashion, it was thought proper to have one, and as all of the girls admired Dickens, they called themselves the Pickwick Club. With a few interruptions, they had kept this up for a year, and met every Saturday evening in the big garret, on which occasions the ceremonies were as follows: Three chairs were arranged in a row before a table on which was a lamp, also four white badges, with a big `P.C.' in different colors on each, and the weekly newspaper called, The Pickwick Portfolio, to which all contributed something, while Jo, who reveled in pens and ink, was the editor. At seven o'clock, the four members ascended to the clubroom, tied their badges round their heads, and took their seats with great solemnity. Meg, as the eldest, was Samuel Pickwick, Jo, being of a literary turn, Augustus Snodgrass, Beth, because she was round and rosy, Tracy Tupman, and Amy, who was always trying to do what she couldn't, was Nathaniel Winkle. Pickwick, the president, read the paper, which was filled with original tales, poetry, local news, funny advertisements, and hints, in which they good-naturedly reminded each other of their faults and short comings. On one occasion, Mr. Pickwick put on a pair of spectacles without any glass, rapped upon the table, hemmed, and having stared hard at Mr. Snodgrass, who was tilting back in his chair, till he arranged himself properly, began to read:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"THE PICKWICK PORTFOLIO"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">MAY 20, 18---</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">POET'S CORNER</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">ANNIVERSARY ODE</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Again we meet to celebrate With badge and solemn rite, Our fifty-second anniversary, In Pickwick Hall, tonight.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">We all are here in perfect health, None gone from our small band: Again we see each well-known face, And press each friendly hand.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Our Pickwick, always at his post, With reverence we greet, As, spectacles on nose, he reads Our well-filled weekly sheet.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Although he suffers from a cold, We joy to hear him speak, For words of wisdom from him fall, In spite of croak or squeak.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Old six-foot Snodgrass looms on high, With elephantine grace, And beams upon the company, With brown and jovial face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Poetic fire lights up his eye, He struggles 'gainst his lot. Behold ambition on his brow, And on his nose, a blot.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Next our peaceful Tupman comes, So rosy, plump, and sweet, Who chokes with laughter at the puns, And tumbles off his seat.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Prim little Winkle too is here, With every hair in place, A model of propriety, Though he hates to wash his face.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The year is gone, we still unite To joke and laugh and read, And tread the path of literature That doth to glory lead.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Long may our paper prosper well, Our club unbroken be, And coming years their blessings pour On the useful, gay `P. C.'. A. SNODGRASS</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">THE MASKED MARRIAGE</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">(A Tale Of Venice)</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Gondola after gondola swept up to the marble steps, and left its lovely load to swell the brilliant throng that filled the stately halls of Count Adelon. Knights and ladies, elves and pages, monks and flower girls, all mingled gaily in the dance. Sweet voices and rich melody filled the air, and so with mirth and music the masquerade went on. "Has your Highness seen the Lady viola tonight?" asked a gallant troubadour of the fairy queen who floated down the hall upon his arm. "Yes, is she not lovely, though so sad! Her dress is well chosen, too, for in a week she weds Count Antonio, whom she passionately hates."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"By my faith, I envy him. Yonder he comes, arrayed like a bridegroom, except the black mask. When that is off we shall see how he regards the fair maid whose heart he cannot win, though her stern father bestows her hand," returned the troubadour.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_3_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_3_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!4" data-google-query-id="CO2t55G0p_kCFRWI6QUddFcC0w" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_3" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_3" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=223692363&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.27~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417582&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-ten-the-pc-and-po&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416766150&bpp=2&bdt=909&idt=2&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280&nras=2&correlator=4427874398938&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416766&ga_hid=911182093&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3328&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=1516&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPJUua8xi7F5t9E9xPs3twbfSrEAHbMWAIbDliW-N7bwMb2ZgE7vA0RQFPJLZIXDzIp-bcsLCpC8pjza1Q&pvsid=1428293766556447&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&ifi=4&uci=a!4&btvi=1&fsb=1&xpc=TtwZZOqNlh&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Tis whispered that she loves the young English artist who haunts her steps, and is spurned by the old Count," said the lady, as they joined the dance. The revel was at its height when a priest appeared, and withdrawing the young pair to an alcove, hung with purple velvet, he motioned them to kneel. Instant silence fell on the gay throng, and not a sound, but he dash of fountains or the rustle of orange groves sleeping in the moonlight, broke the hush, as Count de Adelon spoke thus:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My lords and ladies, pardon the ruse by which I have gathered you here to witness the marriage of my daughter. Father, we wait your services." All eyes turned toward the bridal party, and a murmur of amazement went through the throng, for neither bride nor groom removed their masks. Curiosity and wonder possessed all hearts, but respect restrained all tongues till the holy rite was over. Then the eager spectators gathered round the count, demanding an explanation.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Gladly would I give it if I could, but I only know that it was the whim of my timid Viola, and I yielded to it. Now, my children, let the play end. Unmask and receive my blessing."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">But neither bent the knee, for the young bridegroom replied in a tone that startled all listeners as the mask fell, disclosing the noble face of Ferdinand Devereux, the artist lover, and leaning on the breast where now flashed the star of an English earl was the lovely Viola, radiant with joy and beauty.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My lord, you scornfully bade me claim your daughter when I could boast as high a name and vast a fortune as the Count antonio. I can do more, for even your ambitious soul cannot refuse the Earl of Devereux and De Vere, when he gives his ancient name and boundless wealth in return for the beloved hand of this fair lady, now my wife.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_4_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_4_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!5" data-google-query-id="CIKaq5S0p_kCFbCE6QUdFIsCxg" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_4" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_4" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=4233570707&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.32~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417587&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-ten-the-pc-and-po&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpJOkTXnnqUxSnf4yk2Qb4d-UyMjMp88lHbo4dgtmzNvpo1VPgwPVDjQaeYFitUtIDFwYMddjH2Iy&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416766178&bpp=9&bdt=938&idt=10&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280&nras=3&correlator=4427874398938&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416766&ga_hid=911182093&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=3973&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=2159&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPJUua8xi7F5t9E9xPs3twbfSrEAHbMWAIbDliW-N7bwMb2ZgE7vA0RQFPJLZIXDzIp-bcsLCpC8pjza1Q&pvsid=1428293766556447&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=2&fsb=1&xpc=r95Fti2Htt&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The count stood like one changed to stone, and turning to the bewildered crowd, Ferdinand added, with a gay smile of triumph, "To you, my gallant friends, I can only wish that your wooing may prosper as mine has done, and that you may all win as fair a bride as I have by this masked marriage." S. PICKWICK</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Why is the P. C. like the Tower of Babel? It is full of unruly members.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">THE HISTORY OF A SQUASH</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Once upon a time a farmer planted a little seed. in his garden, and after a while it sprouted and became a vine and bore many squashes. One day in October, when they were ripe, he picked one and took it to market. A gorcerman bought and put it in his shop. That same morning, a little girl in a brown hat and blue dress, with a round face and snub nose, went and bought it for her mother. She lugged it home, cut it up, and boiled it in the big pot, mashed some of it salt and butter, for dinner. And to the rest she added a pint of milk, two eggs, four spoons of sugar, nutmeg, and some crackers, put it in a deep dish, and baked it till it was brown and nice, and next day it was eaten by a family named March. T. TUPMAN</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mr. Pickwick, Sir:- I address you upon the subject of sin the sinner I mean is a man named Winkle who makes trouble in his club by laughing and sometimes won't write his piece in this fine paper I hope you will pardon his badness and let him send a French fable because he can't write out of his head as he has so many lessons to do and no brains in future I will try to take time by the fetlock and prepare some work which will be all commy la fo that means all right I am in haste as it is nearly school time</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Yours respectably, N. WINKLE</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">[The above is a manly and handsome aknowledgment of past misdemeanors. If our young friend studied punctuation, it would be well.]</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A SAD ACCIDENT</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">On Friday last, we were startled by a violent shock in our basement, followed by cries of distress. On rushing in a body to the cellar, we discovered our beloved President prostrate upon the floor, having tripped and fallen while getting wood for domestic purposes. A perfect scene of ruin met our eyes, for in his fall Mr. Pickwick had plunged his head and shoulders into a tub of water, upset a keg of soft soap upon his manly form, and torn his garments badly. On being removed from this perilous situation, it was discovered that he had suffered no injury but several bruises, and we are happy to add, is now doing well. ED.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">THE PUBLIC BEREAVEMENT</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It is our painful duty to record the sudden and mysterious disappearance of our cherished friend, Mrs. Snowball Pat Paw. This lovely and beloved cat was the pet of a large circle of warm and admiring friends; for her beauty attracted all eyes, her graces and virtues endeared her to all hearts, and her loss is deeply felt by the whole community.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When last seen, she was sitting at the gate, watching the butcher's cart, and it is feared that some villain, tempted by her charms, basely stole her. Weeks have passed, but no trace of her has been discovered, and we relinquish all hope, tie a black ribbon to her basket, set aside her dish, and weep for her as one lost to us forever.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A sympathizing friend sends the following gem:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A LAMENT</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">(FOR S. B. PAT PAW)</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">We mourn the loss of our little pet, And sigh o'er her hapless fate, For never more by the fire she'll sit, Nor play by the old green gate.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The little grave where her infant sleeps Is 'neath the chestnut tree. But o'er her grave we may not weep, We know not where it may be.</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_5_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_5_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!6" data-google-query-id="CK2-2JW0p_kCFSGI6QUdEvsH5g" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_5" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_5" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=3860085791&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.49~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417590&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-ten-the-pc-and-po&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpJOkTXnnqUxSnf4yk2Qb4d-UyMjMp88lHbo4dgtmzNvpo1VPgwPVDjQaeYFitUtIDFwYMddjH2Iy&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416766253&bpp=5&bdt=1013&idt=6&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=4&correlator=4427874398938&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416766&ga_hid=911182093&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=5518&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=3782&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPJUua8xi7F5t9E9xPs3twbfSrEAHbMWAIbDliW-N7bwMb2ZgE7vA0RQFPJLZIXDzIp-bcsLCpC8pjza1Q&pvsid=1428293766556447&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=3&fsb=1&xpc=HLwoiMCkGF&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Her empty bed, her idle ball, Will never see her more; No gentle tap, no loving purr Is heard at the parlor door.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Another cat comes after her mice, A cat with a dirty face, But she does not hunt as our darling did, Nor play with her airy grace.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Her stealthy paws tread the very hall Where Snowball used to play, But she only spits at the dogs our pet So gallantly drove away.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She is useful and mild, and does her best, But she is not fair to see, And we cannot give her your place dear, Nor worship her as we worship thee. A.S.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">ADVERTISEMENTS</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Miss Oranthy Bluggage, the accomplished strong-minded lecturer, will deliver her famous lecture on "WOMAN AND HER POSITION" at Pickwick Hall, next Saturday Evening, after the usual performances.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A weekly meeting will be held at Kitchen place, to teach young ladies how to cook. Hannah Brown will preside, and all are invited to attend.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The DUSTPAN SOCIETY will meet on Wednesday next, and parade in the upper story of the Club House. All members to appear in uniform and shoulder their brooms at nine precisely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Mrs. Beth Bouncer will open her new assortment of Doll's Millinery next week. The latest Paris fashions have arrived, and orders are respectfully solicited.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A new play will appear at the Barnville Theatre, in the course of a few weeks, which will surpass anything ever seen on the American stage. The Greek Slave, or Constantine the Avenger, is the name of this thrilling drama.!!!</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">HINTS</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">If S.P. didn't use so much soap on his hands, he wouldn't always be late at breakfast. A.S. is requested not to whistle in the street. T.T please don't forget Amy's napkin. N.W. must not fret because his dress has not nine tucks.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">WEEKLY REPORT</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg--Good. Jo--Bad.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Beth--Very Good. Amy--Middling.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As the President finished reading the paper (which I beg leave to assure my readers is a bona fide copy of one written by bona fide girls once upon a time), a round of applause followed, and then Mr. Snodgrass rose to make a proposition.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mr. President and gentlemen," he began, assuming a parliamentary attitude and tone, "I wish to propose the admission of a new member--one who highly deserves the honor, would be deeply grateful for it, and would add immensely to the spirit of the club, the literary value of the paper, and be no end jolly and nice. I propose Mr. Theodore Laurence as an honorary member of the P. C. Come now, do have him."</p><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16.8px; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 850px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-2911220475939638" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><ins aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_6_expand" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-table; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><ins id="aswift_6_anchor" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 850px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" data-google-container-id="a!7" data-google-query-id="CJajj5a0p_kCFSqC6QUd5jkAWA" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_6" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_6" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-2911220475939638&output=html&h=280&adk=4237424854&adf=2209427468&pi=t.aa~a.3129428628~i.66~rp.4&w=850&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1659417591&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=2679680670&psa=1&ad_type=text_image&format=850x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fpart-one-chapter-ten-the-pc-and-po&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=200&rw=850&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&adsid=ChAI8POdlwYQm_uXw5bsypgzEj0AtlNEpJOkTXnnqUxSnf4yk2Qb4d-UyMjMp88lHbo4dgtmzNvpo1VPgwPVDjQaeYFitUtIDFwYMddjH2Iy&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMS4wLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCIsW10sbnVsbCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siLk5vdC9BKUJyYW5kIiwiOTkuMC4wLjAiXSxbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMDMuMC41MDYwLjEzNCJdXSxmYWxzZV0.&dt=1659416766276&bpp=4&bdt=1036&idt=4&shv=r20220727&mjsv=m202207260101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3D54249fa0c45564e1-225230f21ed50029%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1657280278%3AS%3DALNI_MZdMszvHL_bku71v86nVXqSnmWM0g&gpic=UID%3D0000077ed37b57b1%3AT%3D1657280278%3ART%3D1659416582%3AS%3DALNI_Ma9n8Vs7qVs_S6azN5GdACWn0TaZg&prev_fmts=0x0%2C970x280%2C850x280%2C850x280%2C850x280&nras=5&correlator=4427874398938&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=725302646.1657280281&ga_sid=1659416766&ga_hid=911182093&ga_fc=1&u_tz=330&u_his=1&u_h=768&u_w=1366&u_ah=728&u_aw=1366&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.25&dmc=4&adx=115&ady=6793&biw=1079&bih=454&scr_x=0&scr_y=4991&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759837%2C44763505%2C31068669&oid=2&psts=AEC3cPJUua8xi7F5t9E9xPs3twbfSrEAHbMWAIbDliW-N7bwMb2ZgE7vA0RQFPJLZIXDzIp-bcsLCpC8pjza1Q&pvsid=1428293766556447&tmod=835622849&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Famericanliterature.com%2Fauthor%2Flouisa-may-alcott%2Fbook%2Flittle-women%2Fsummary&eae=0&fc=1408&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1366%2C0%2C1366%2C728%2C1093%2C454&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&jar=2022-08-02-05&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=4&fsb=1&xpc=LBwtqSqPBg&p=https%3A//americanliterature.com&dtd=M" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 850px;" vspace="0" width="850"></iframe></ins></ins></ins></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo's sudden change of tone made the girls laugh, but all looked rather anxious, and no one said a word as Snodgrass took his seat.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We'll put it to a vote," said the President. "All in favor of this motion please to manifest it by saying, `Aye'."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Contrary-minded say, `No'."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg and Amy were contrary-minded, and Mr. Winkle rose to say with great elegance, "We don't wish any boys, they only joke and bounce about. This is a ladies' club, and we wish to be private and proper."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm afraid he'll laugh at our paper, and make fun of us afterward," observed Pickwick, pulling the little curl on her forehead, as she always did when doubtful.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Up rose Snodgrass, very much in earnest. "Sir, I give you my word as a gentleman, Laurie won't do anything of the sort. He likes to write, and he'll give a tone to our contributions and keep us from being sentimental, don't you see? We can do so little for him, and he does so much for us, I think the least we can do is to offer him a place here, and make him welcome if he comes."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">This artful allusion to benefits conferred brought Tupman to his feet, looking as if he had quite made up his mind.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, we ought to do it, even if we are afraid. I say he may come, and his grandpa, too, if he likes."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">This spirited burst from Beth electrified the club, and Jo left her seat to shake hands approvingly. "Now then, vote again. Everybody remember it's our Laurie, and say, `Aye!'" cried Snodgrass excitedly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Aye! Aye! Aye!" replied three voices at once.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Good! Bless you! Now, as there's nothing like `taking time by the fetlock', as Winkle characteristically observes, allow me to present the new member." And, to the dismay of the rest of the club, Jo threw open the door of the closet, and displayed Laurie sitting on a rag bag, flushed and twinkling with suppressed laughter.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You rogue! You traitor! Jo, how could you?" cried the three girls, as Snodgrass led her friend triumphantly forth, and producing both a chair and a badge, installed him in a jiffy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The coolness of you two rascals is amazing," began Mr. Pickwick, trying to get up an awful frown and only succeeding in producing an amiable smile. But the new member was equal to the occasion, and rising, with a grateful salutation to the Chair, said in the most engaging manner, "Mr. President and ladies--I beg pardon, gentlemen--allow me to introduce myself as Sam Weller, the very humble servant of the club."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Good! Good!" cried Jo, pounding with the handle of the old warming pan on which she leaned.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My faithful friend and noble patron," continued Laurie with a wave of the hand, "who has so flatteringly presented me, is not to be blamed for the base stratagem of tonight. I planned it, and she only gave in after lots of teasing."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Come now, don't lay it all on yourself. You know I proposed the cupboard," broke in Snodgrass, who was enjoying the joke amazingly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Never mind what she says. I'm the wretch that did it, sir," said the new member, with a Welleresque nod to Mr. Pickwick. "But on my honor, I never will do so again, and henceforth devote myself to the interest of this immortal club."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Hear! Hear!" cried Jo, clashing the lid of the warming pan like a cymbal.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Go on, go on!" added Winkle and Tupman, while the President bowed benignly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I merely wish to say, that as a slight token of my gratitude for the honor done me, and as a means of promoting friendly relations between adjoining nations, I have set up a post office in the hedge in the lower corner of the garden, a fine, spacious building with padlocks on the doors and every convenience for the mails, also the females, if I may be allowed the expression. It's the old martin house, but I've stopped up the door and made the roof open, so it will hold all sorts of things, and save our valuable time. Letters, manuscripts, books, and bundles can be passed in there, and as each nation has a key, it will be uncommonly nice, I fancy. Allow me to present the club key, and with many thanks for your favor, take my seat."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Great applause as Mr. Weller deposited a little key on the table and subsided, the warming pan clashed and waved wildly, and it was some time before order could be restored. A long discussion followed, and everyone came out surprising, for everyone did her best. So it was an unusually lively meeting, and did not adjourn till a late hour, when it broke up with three shrill cheers for the new member. No one ever regretted the admittance of Sam Weller, for a more devoted, well-behaved, and jovial member no club could have. He certainly did add `spirit' to the meetings, and `a tone' to the paper, for his orations convulsed his hearers and his contributions were excellent, being patriotic, classical, comical, or dramatic, but never sentimental. Jo regarded them as worthy of Bacon, Milton, or Shakespeare, and remodeled her own works with good effect, she thought.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The P. O. was a capital little institution, and flourished wonderfully, for nearly as many queer things passed through it as through the real post office. Tragedies and cravats, poetry and pickles, garden seeds and long letters, music and gingerbread, rubbers, invitations, scoldings, and puppies. The old gentleman liked the fun, and amused himself by sending odd bundles, mysterious messages, and funny telegrams, and his gardener, who was smitten with Hannah's charms, actually sent a love letter to Jo's care. How they laughed when the secret came out, never dreaming how many love letters that little post office would hold in the years to come.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-29944019900560338602022-08-02T10:48:00.007+05:302022-08-02T10:48:54.667+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER NINE - Meg Goes to Vanity Fair - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">"I do think it was the most fortunate thing in the world that those children should have the measles just now," said Meg, one April day, as she stood packing the `go abroady' trunk in her room, surrounded by her sisters.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And so nice of Annie Moffat not to forget her promise. A whole fortnight of fun will be regularly splendid," replied Jo, looking like a windmill as she folded skirts with her long arms.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And such lovely weather, I'm so glad of that," added Beth, tidily sorting neck and hair ribbons in her best box, lent for the great occasion.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wish I was going to have a fine time and wear all these nice things," said Amy with her mouth full of pins, as she artistically replenished her sister's cushion.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wish you were all going, but as you can't, I shall keep my adventures to tell you when I come back. I'm sure it's the least I can do when you have been so kind, lending me things and helping me get ready," said Meg, glancing round the room at the very simple outfit, which seemed nearly perfect in their eyes.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What did Mother give you out of the treasure box?" asked Amy, who had not been present at the opening of a certain cedar chest in which Mrs. March kept a few relics of past splendor, as gifts for her girls when the proper time came.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A pair of silk stockings, that pretty carved fan, and a lovely blue sash. I wanted the violet silk, but there isn't time to make it over, so I must be contented with my old tarlatan."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It will look nice over my new muslin skirt, and the sash will set it off beautifully. I wish I hadn't smashed my coral bracelet, for you might have had it," said Jo, who loved to give and lend, but whose possessions were usually too dilapidated to be of much use.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There is a lovely old-fashioned pearl set in the treasure chest, but Mother said real flowers were the prettiest ornament for a young girl, and Laurie promised to send me all I want," replied Meg. "Now, let me see, there's my new gray walking suit, just curl up the feather in my hat, Beth, then my poplin for Sunday and the small party, it looks heavy for spring, doesn't it? The violet silk would be so nice. Oh, dear!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Never mind, you've got the tarlatan for the big party, and you always look like an angel in white," said Amy, brooding over the little store of finery in which her soul delighted.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It isn't low-necked, and it doesn't sweep enough, but it will have to do. My blue housedress looks so well, turned and freshly trimmed, that I feel as if I'd got a new one. My silk sacque isn't a bit the fashion, and my bonnet doesn't look like Sallie's. I didn't like to say anything, but I was sadly disappointed in my umbrella. I told Mother black with a white handle, but she forgot and bought a green one with a yellowish handle. It's strong and neat, so I ought not to complain, but I know I shall feel ashamed of it beside Annie's silk one with a gold top," sighed Meg, surveying the little umbrella with great disfavor.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Change it," advised Jo.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I won't be so silly, or hurt Marmee's feelings, when she took so much pains to get my things. It's a nonsensical notion of mine, and I'm not going to give up to it. My silk stockings and two pairs of new gloves are my comfort. You are a dear to lend me yours, Jo. I feel so rich and sort of elegant, with two new pairs, and the old ones cleaned up for common." And Meg took a refreshing peep at her glove box. "Annie Moffat has blue and pink bows on her nightcaps. Would you put some on mine?" she asked, as Beth brought up a pile of snowy muslins, fresh from Hannah's hands.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I wouldn't, for the smart caps won't match the plain gowns without any trimming on them. Poor folks shouldn't rig," said Jo decidedly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wonder if I shall ever be happy enough to have real lace on my clothes and bows on my caps?" said Meg impatiently.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You said the other day that you'd be perfectly happy if you could only go to Annie Moffat's," observed Beth in her quiet way.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So I did! Well, I am happy, and I won't fret, but it does seem as if the more one gets the more one wants, doesn't it? There now, the trays are ready, and everything in but my ball dress, which I shall leave for Mother to pack," said Meg, cheering up, as she glanced from the half-filled trunk to the many times pressed and mended white tarlatan, which she called her `ball dress' with an important air.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The next day was fine, and Meg departed in style for a fortnight of novelty and pleasure. Mrs. March had consented to the visit rather reluctantly, fearing that Margaret would come back more discontented than she went. But she begged so hard, and Sallie had promised to take good care of her, and a little pleasure seemed so delightful after a winter of irksome work that the mother yielded, and the daughter went to take her first taste of fashionable life.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The Moffats were very fashionable, and simple Meg was rather daunted, at first, by the splendor of the house and the elegance of its occupants. But they were kindly people, in spite of the frivolous life they led, and soon put their guest at her ease. Perhaps Meg felt, without understanding why, that they were not particularly cultivated or intelligent people, and that all their gilding could not quite conceal the ordinary material of which they were made. It certainly was agreeable to fare sumptuously, drive in a fine carriage, wear her best frock every day, and do nothing but enjoy herself. It suited her exactly, and soon she began to imitate the manners and conversation of those about her, to put on little airs and graces, use French phrases, crimp her hair, take in her dresses, and talk about the fashions as well as she could. The more she saw of Annie Moffat's pretty things, the more she envied her and sighed to be rich. Home now looked bare and dismal as she thought of it, work grew harder than ever, and she felt that she was a very destitute and much-injured girl, in spite of the new gloves and silk stockings.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She had not much time for repining, however, for the three young girls were busily employed in `having a good time'. They shopped, walked, rode, and called all day, went to theaters and operas or frolicked at home in the evening, for Annie had many friends and knew how to entertain them. Her older sisters were very fine young ladies, and one was engaged, which was extremely interesting and romantic, Meg thought. Mr. Moffat was a fat, jolly old gentleman, who knew her father, and Mrs. Moffat, a fat, jolly old lady, who took as great a fancy to Meg as her daughter had done. Everyone petted her, and `Daisey', as they called her, was in a fair way to have her head turned.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When the evening for the small party came, she found that the poplin wouldn't do at all, for the other girls were putting on thin dresses and making themselves very fine indeed. So out came the tarlatan, looking older, limper, and shabbier than ever beside Sallie's crisp new one. Meg saw the girls glance at it and then at one another, and her cheeks began to burn, for with all her gentleness she was very proud. No one said a word about it, but Sallie offered to dress her hair, and Annie to tie her sash, and Belle, the engaged sister, praised her white arms. But in their kindness Meg saw only pity for her poverty, and her heart felt very heavy as she stood by herself, while the others laughed, chattered, and flew about like gauzy butterflies. The hard, bitter feeling was getting pretty bad, when the maid brought in a box of flowers. Before she could speak, Annie had the cover off, and all were exclaiming at the lovely roses, heath, and fern within.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's for Belle, of course, George always sends her some, but these are altogether ravishing," cried Annie, with a great sniff.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"They are for Miss March, the man said. And here's a note," put in the maid, holding it to Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What fun! Who are they from? Didn't know you had a lover," cried the girls, fluttering about Meg in a high state of curiosity and surprise.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The note is from Mother, and the flowers from Laurie," said Meg simply, yet much gratified that he had not forgotten her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, indeed!" said Annie with a funny look, as Meg slipped the note into her pocket as a sort of talisman against envy, vanity, and false pride, for the few loving words had done her good, and the flowers cheered her up by their beauty.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Feeling almost happy again, she laid by a few ferns and roses for herself, and quickly made up the rest in dainty bouquets for the breasts, hair, or skirts of her friends, offering them so prettily that Clara, the elder sister, told her she was `the sweetest little thing she ever saw', and they looked quite charmed with her small attention. Somehow the kind act finished her despondency, and when all the rest went to show themselves to Mrs. Moffat, she saw a happy, bright-eyed face in the mirror, as she laid her ferns against her rippling hair and fastened the roses in the dress that didn't strike her as so very shabby now.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She enjoyed herself very much that evening, for she danced to her heart's content. Everyone was very kind, and she had three compliments. Annie made her sing, and some one said she had a remarkably fine voice. Major Lincoln asked who `the fresh little girl with the beautiful eyes' was, and Mr. Moffat insisted on dancing with her because she `didn't dawdle, but had some spring in her', as he gracefully expressed it. So altogether she had a very nice time, till she overheard a bit of conversation, which disturbed her extremely. She was sitting just inside the conservatory, waiting for her partner to bring her an ice, when she heard a voice ask on the other side of the flowery wall...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How old is he?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Sixteen or seventeen, I should say," replied another voice.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It would be a grand thing for one of those girls, wouldn't it? Sallie says they are very intimate now, and the old man quite dotes on them."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mrs. M. has made her plans, I dare say, and will play her cards well, early as it is. The girl evidently doesn't think of it yet," said Mrs. Moffat.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"She told that fib about her momma, as if she did know, and colored up when the flowers came quite prettily. Poor thing! She'd be so nice if she was only got up in style. Do you think she'd be offended if we offered to lend her a dress for Thursday?" asked another voice.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"She's proud, but I don't believe she'd mind, for that dowdy tarlatan is all she has got. She may tear it tonight, and that will be a good excuse for offering a decent one."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Here Meg's partner appeared, to find her looking much flushed and rather agitated. She was proud, and her pride was useful just then, for it helped her hide her mortification, anger, and disgust at what she had just heard. For, innocent and unsuspicious as she was, she could not help understanding the gossip of her friends. She tried to forget it, but could not, and kept repeating to herself, "Mrs. M. has made her plans," "that fib about her mamma," and 'dowdy tarlatan," till she was ready to cry and rush home to tell her troubles and ask for advice. As that was impossible, she did her best to seem gay, and being rather excited, she succeeded so well that no one dreamed what an effort she was making. She was very glad when it was all over and she was quiet in her bed, where she could think and wonder and fume till her head ached and her hot cheeks were cooled by a few natural tears. Those foolish, yet well meant words, had opened a new world to Meg, and much disturbed the peace of the old one in which till now she had lived as happily as a child. Her innocent friendship with Laurie was spoiled by the silly speeches she had overheard. Her faith in her mother was a little shaken by the worldly plans attributed to her by Mrs. Moffat, who judged others by herself, and the sensible resolution to be contented with the simple wardrobe which suited a poor man's daughter was weakened by the unnecessary pity of girls who thought a shabby dress one of the greatest calamities under heaven.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Poor Meg had a restless night, and got up heavy-eyed, unhappy, half resentful toward her friends, and half ashamed of herself for not speaking out frankly and setting everything right. Everybody dawdled that morning, and it was noon before the girls found energy enough even to take up their worsted work. Something in the manner of her friends struck Meg at once. They treated her with more respect, she thought, took quite a tender interest in what she said, and looked at her with eyes that plainly betrayed curiosity. All this surprised and flattered her, though she did not understand it till Miss Belle looked up from her writing, and said, with a sentimental air...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Daisy, dear, I've sent an invitation to your friend, Mr. Laurence, for Thursday. We should like to know him, and it's only a proper compliment to you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg colored, but a mischievous fancy to tease the girls made her reply demurely, "You are very kind, but I'm afraid he won't come."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why not, Cherie?" asked Miss Belle.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He's too old."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My child, what do you mean? What is his age, I beg to know!" cried Miss Clara.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Nearly seventy, I believe," answered Meg, counting stitches to hide the merriment in her eyes.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You sly creature! Of course we meant the young man," exclaimed Miss Belle, laughing.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There isn't any, Laurie is only a little boy." And Meg laughed also at the queer look which the sisters exchanged as she thus described her supposed lover. "About you age," Nan said.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Nearer my sister Jo's, I am seventeen in August," returned Meg, tossing her head.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's very nice of him to send you flowers, isn't it?" said Annie, looking wise about nothing.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, he often does, to all of us, for their house is full, and we are so fond of them. My mother and old Mr. Laurence are friends, you know, so it is quite natural that we children should play together." And Meg hoped they would say no more.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It's evident Daisy isn't out yet," said Miss Clara to Belle with a nod.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Quite a pastoral state of innocence all round," returned Miss Belle with a shrug.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm going out to get some little matters for my girls. Can I do anything for you, young ladies?" asked Mrs. Moffat, lumbering in like an elephant in silk and lace.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, thank you, ma'am," replied Sallie. "I've got my new pink silk for Thursday and don't want a thing."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Nor I..." began Meg, but stopped because it occurred to her that she did want several things and could not have them.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What shall you wear?" asked Sallie.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My old white one again, if I can mend it fit to be seen, it got sadly torn last night," said Meg, trying to speak quite easily, but feeling very uncomfortable.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why don't you send home for another?" said Sallie, who was not an observing young lady.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I haven't got any other." It cost Meg an effort to say that, but Sallie did not see it and exclaimed in amiable surprise, "Only that?" How funny..." She did not finish her speech, for Belle shook her head at her and broke in, saying kindly...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not at all. Where is the use of having a lot of dresses when she isn't out yet? There's no need of sending home, Daisy, even if you had a dozen, for I've got a sweet blue silk laid away, which I've outgrown, and you shall wear it to please me, won't you, dear?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You are very kind, but I don't mind my old dress if you don't, it does well enough for a little girl like me," said Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now do let me please myself by dressing you up in style. I admire to do it, and you'd be a regular little beauty with a touch here and there. I shan't let anyone see you till you are done, and then we'll burst upon them like Cinderella and her godmother going to the ball," said Belle in her persuasive tone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg couldn't refuse the offer so kindly made, for a desire to see if she would be `a little beauty' after touching up caused her to accept and forget all her former uncomfortable feelings toward the Moffats.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">On the Thursday evening, Belle shut herself up with her maid, and between them they turned Meg into a fine lady. They crimped and curled her hair, they polished her neck and arms with some fragrant powder, touched her lips with coralline salve to make them redder, and Hortense would have added `a soupcon of rouge', if Meg had not rebelled. They laced her into a sky-blue dress, which was so tight she could hardly breathe and so low in the neck that modest Meg blushed at herself in the mirror. A set of silver filagree was added, bracelets, necklace, brooch, and even earrings, for Hortense tied them on with a bit of pink silk which did not show. A cluster of tea-rose buds at the bosom and a ruche, reconciled Meg to the display of her pretty, white shoulders, and a pair of high-heeled silk boots satisfied the last wish of her heart. A lace handkerchief, a plumy fan, and a bouquet in a shoulder holder finished her off, and Miss Belle surveyed her with the satisfaction of a little girl with a newly dressed doll.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mademoiselle is chatmante, tres jolie, is she not?" cried Hortense, clasping her hands in an affected rapture.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Come and show yourself," said Miss Belle, leading the way to the room where the others were waiting.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As Meg went rustling after, with her long skirts trailing, her earrings tinkling, her curls waving, and her heart beating, she felt as if her fun had really begun at last, for the mirror had plainly told her that she was `a little beauty'. Her friends repeated the pleasing phrase enthusiastically, and for several minutes she stood, like a jackdaw in the fable, enjoying her borrowed plumes, while the rest chattered like a party of magpies.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"While I dress, do you drill her, Nan, in the management of her skirt and those French heels, or she will trip herself up. Take your silver butterfly, and catch up that long curl on the left side of her head, Clara, and don't any of you disturb the charming work of my hands," said Belle, as she hurried away, looking well pleased with her success.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You don't look a bit like yourself, but you are very nice. I'm nowhere beside you, for Belle has heaps of taste, and you're quite French, I assure you. Let your flowers hang, don't be so careful of them, and be sure you don't trip," returned Sallie, trying not to care that Meg was prettier than herself.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Keeping that warning carefully in mind, Margaret got safely downstairs and sailed into the drawing rooms where the Moffats and a few early guests were assembled. She very soon discovered that there is a charm about fine clothes which attracts a certain class of people and secures their respect. Several young ladies, who had taken no notice of her before, were very affectionate all of a sudden. Several young gentlemen, who had only stared at her at the other party, now not only stared, but asked to be introduced, and said all manner of foolish but agreeable things to her, and several old ladies, who sat on the sofas, and criticized the rest of the party, inquired who she was with an air of interest. She heard Mrs. Moffat reply to one of them...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Daisy March--father a colonel in the army--one of our first families, but reverses of fortune, you know; intimate friends of the Laurences; sweet creature, I assure you; my Ned is quite wild about her."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Dear me!" said the old lady, putting up her glass for another observation of Meg, who tried to look as if she had not heard and been rather shocked at Mrs. Moffat's fibs. The `queer feeling' did not pass away, but she imagined herself acting the new part of fine lady and so got on pretty well, though the tight dress gave her a side-ache, the train kept getting under her feet, and she was in constant fear lest her earrings should fly off and get lost or broken. She was flirting her fan and laughing at the feeble jokes of a young gentleman who tried to be witty, when she suddenly stopped laughing and looked confused, for just opposite, she saw Laurie. He was staring at her with undisguised surprise, and disapproval also, she thought, for though he bowed and smiled, yet something in his honest eyes made her blush and wish she had her old dress on. To complete her confusion, she saw Belle nudge Annie, and both glance from her to Laurie, who, she was happy to see, looked unusually boyish and shy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Silly creatures, to put such thoughts into my head. I won't care for it, or let it change me a bit," thought Meg, and rustled across the room to shake hands with her friend.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm glad you came, I was afraid you wouldn't." she said, with her most grown-up air.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Jo wanted me to come, and tell her how you looked, so I did," answered Laurie, without turning his eyes upon her, though he half smiled at her maternal tone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What shall you tell her?" asked Meg, full of curiosity to know his opinion of her, yet feeling ill at ease with him for the first time.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I shall say I didn't know you, for you look so grown-up and unlike yourself, I'm quite afraid of you," he said, fumbling at his glove button.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How absurd of you! The girls dressed me up for fun, and I rather like it. Wouldn't Jo stare if she saw me?" said Meg, bent on making him say whether he thought her improved or not. "Yes, I think she would," returned Laurie gravely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't you like me so?' asked Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I don't," was the blunt reply.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why not?" in an anxious tone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">He glanced at her frizzled head, bare shoulders, and fantastically trimmed dress with an expression that abashed her more than his answer, which had not particle of his usual politeness in it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't like fuss and feathers."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">That was altogether too much from a lad younger than herself, and Meg walked away, saying petulantly, "You are the rudest boy I ever saw."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Feeling very much ruffled, she went and stood at a quiet window to cool her cheeks, for the tight dress gave her an uncomfortably brilliant color. As she stood there, Major Lincoln passed by, and a minute after she heard him saying to his mother...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"They are making a fool of that little girl. I wanted you to see her, but they have spoiled her entirely. She's nothing but a doll tonight."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, dear!" sighed Meg. "I wish I'd been sensible and worn my own things, then I should not have disgusted other people, or felt so uncomfortable and ashamed of myself."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She leaned her forehead on the cool pane, and stood half hidden by the curtains, never minding that her favorite waltz had begun, till some one touched her, and turning, she saw Laurie, looking penitent, as he said, with his very best bow and his hand out...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Please forgive my rudeness, and come and dance with me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm afraid it will be to disagreeable to you," said Meg, trying to look offended and failing entirely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not a bit of it, I'm dying to do it. Come, I'll be good. I don't like your gown, but I do think you are just splendid." And he waved his hands, as if words failed to express his admiration.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg smiled and relented, and whispered as they stood waiting to catch the time, "Take care my skirt doesn't trip you up. It's the plague of my life and I was a goose to wear it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Pin it round your neck, and then it will be useful," said Laurie, looking down at the little blue boots, which he evidently approved of. Away they went fleetly and gracefully, for having practiced at home, they were well matched, and the blithe young couple were a pleasant sight to see, as they twirled merrily round and round, feeling more friendly than ever after their small tiff.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Laurie, I want you to do me a favor, will you?' said Meg, as he stood fanning her when her breath gave out, which it did very soon though she would not own why.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Won't I!" said Laurie, with alacrity.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Please don't tell them at home about my dress tonight. They won't understand the joke, and it will worry Mother.'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then why did you do it?" said Laurie's eyes, so plainly that Meg hastily added...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I shall tell them myself all about it, and `fess' to Mother how silly I've been. But I'd rather do it myself. So you'll not tell, will you?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I give you my word I won't, only what shall I say when they ask me?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Just say I looked pretty well and was having a good time."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll say the first with all my heart, but how about the other? You don't look as if you were having a good time. Are you?' And Laurie looked at her with an expression which made her answer in a whisper...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, not just now. Don't think I'm horrid. I only wanted a little fun, but this sort doesn't pay, I find, and I'm getting tired of it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here comes Ned Moffat. What does he want?" said Laurie, knitting his black brows as if he did not regard his young host in the light of a pleasant addition to the party.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"He put his name down for three dances, and I suppose he's coming for them. What a bore!" said Meg, assuming a languid air which amused Laurie immensely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">He did not speak to her again till suppertime, when he saw her drinking champagne with Ned and his friend Fisher, who were behaving `like a pair of fools', as Laurie said to himself, for he felt a brotherly sort of right to watch over the Marches and fight their battles whenever a defender was needed.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'll have a splitting headache tomorrow, if you drink much of that. I wouldn't, Meg, your mother doesn't like it, you know," he whispered, leaning over her chair, as Ned turned to refill her glass and Fisher stooped to pick up her fan.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm not Meg tonight, I'm `a doll' who does all sorts of crazy things. Tomorrow I shall put away my `fuss and feathers' and be desperately good again," se answered with an affected little laugh.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Wish tomorrow was here, then," muttered Laurie, walking off, ill-pleased at the change he saw in her.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg danced and flirted, chattered and giggled, as the other girls did. After supper she undertook the German, and blundered through it, nearly upsetting her partner with her long skirt, and romping in a way that scandalized Laurie, who looked on and meditated a lecture. But he got no chance to deliver it, for Meg kept away from him till he came to say good night.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Remember!" she said, trying to smile, for the splitting headache had already begun.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Silence a` la mort," replied Laurie, with a melodramatic flourish, as he went away.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">This little bit of byplay excited Annie's curiosity, but Meg was too tired for gossip and went to bed, feeling as if she had been to a masquerade and hadn't enjoyed herself as much as she expected. She was sick all the next day, and on Saturday went home, quite used up with her fortnight's fun and feeling that she had</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`sat in the lap of luxury' long enough.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It does seem pleasant to be quiet, and not have company manners on all the time. Home is a nice place, though it isn't splendid," said Meg, looking about her with a restful expression, as she sat with her mother and Jo on the Sunday evening.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm glad to hear you say so, dear, for I was afraid home would seem dull and poor to you after your fine quarters," replied her mother, who had given her many anxious looks that day. For motherly eyes are quick to see any change in children's faces.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg had told her adventures gayly and said over and over what a charming time she had had, but something still seemed to weigh upon her spirits, and when the younger girls were gone to bed, she sat thoughtfully staring at the fire, saying little and looking worried. As the clock struck nine and Jo proposed bed, Meg suddenly left her chair and, taking Beth's stool, leaned her elbows on her mother's knee, saying bravely...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Marmee, I want to `fess'."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I thought so. What is it, dear?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Shall I go away?" asked Jo discreetly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Of course not. Don't I always tell you everything? I was ashamed to speak of it before the younger children, but I want you to know all the dreadful things I did at the Moffats'."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We are prepared," said Mrs. March, smiling but looking a little anxious.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I told you they dressed me up, but I didn't tell you that they powdered and squeezed and frizzled, and made me look like a fashion plate. Laurie thought I wasn't proper. I know he did, though he didn't say so, and one man called me `a doll'. I knew it was silly, but they flattered me and said I was a beauty, and quantities of nonsense, so I let them make a fool of me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Is that all?" asked Jo, as Mrs. March looked silently at the downcast face of her pretty daughter, and could not find it in her heart to blame her little follies.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I drank champagne and romped and tried to flirt, and was altogether abominable," said Meg self-reproachfully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There is something more, I think." And Mrs. March smoothed the soft cheek, which suddenly grew rosy as Meg answered slowly...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes. It's very silly, but I want to tell it, because I hate to have people say and think such things about us and Laurie."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Then she told the various bits of gossip she had heard at the Moffats', and as she spoke, Jo saw her mother fold her lips tightly, as if ill pleased that such ideas should be put into Meg's innocent mind.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, if that isn't the greatest rubbish I ever heard," cried Jo indignantly. "Why didn't you pop out and tell them so on the spot?'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I couldn't, it was so embarrassing for me. I couldn't help hearing at first, and then I was so angry and ashamed, I didn't remember that I ought to go away."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Just wait till I see Annie Moffat, and I'll show you how to settle such ridiculous stuff. The idea of having `plans' and being kind to Laurie because he's rich and may marry us by-and-by! Won't he shout when I tell him what those silly things say about us poor children?" And Jo laughed, as if on second thoughts the thing struck her as a good joke.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If you tell Laurie, I'll never forgive you! She mustn't, must she, Mother?" said Meg, looking distressed.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, never repeat that foolish gossip, and forget it as soon as you can," said Mrs. March gravely. "I was very unwise to let you go among people of whom I know so little, kind, I dare say, but worldly, ill-bred, and full of these vulgar ideas about young people. I am more sorry than I can express for the mischief this visit may have done you, Meg."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't be sorry, I won't let it hurt me. I'll forget all the bad and remember only the good, for I did enjoy a great deal, and thank you very much for letting me go. I'll not be sentimental or dissatisfied, Mother. I know I'm a silly little girl, and I'll stay with you till I'm fit to take care of myself. But it is nice to be praised and admired, and I can't help saying I like it," said Meg, looking half ashamed of the confession.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That is perfectly natural, and quite harmless, if the liking does not become a passion and lead one to do foolish or unmaidenly things. Learn to know and value the praise which is worth having, and to excite the admiration of excellent people by being modest as well as pretty, Meg."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Margaret sat thinking a moment, while Jo stood with her hands behind her, looking both interested and a little perplexed, for it was a new thing to see Meg blushing and talking about admiration, lovers, and things of that sort. And Jo felt as if during that fortnight her sister had grown up amazingly, and was drifting away from her into a world where she could not follow.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mother, do you have `plans', as Mrs. Moffat said?" asked Meg bashfully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, my dear, I have a great many, all mothers do, but mine differ somewhat from Mrs. Moffat's, I suspect. I will tell you some of them, for the time has come when a word may set this romantic little head and heart of yours right, on a very serious subject. You are young, Meg, but not too young to understand me, and mothers' lips are the fittest to speak of such things to girls like you. Jo, your turn will come in time, perhaps, so listen to my `plans' and help me carry them out, if they are good."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo went and sat on one arm of the chair, looking as if she thought they were about to join in some very solemn affair. Holding a hand of each, and watching the two young faces wistfully, Mrs. March said, in her serious yet cheery way...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I want my daughters to be beautiful, accomplished, and good. To be admired, loved, and respected. To have a happy youth, to be well and wisely married, and to lead useful, pleasant lives, with as little care and sorrow to try them as God sees fit to send. To be loved and chosen by a good man is the best and sweetest thing which can happen to a woman, and I sincerely hope my girls may know this beautiful experience. It is natural to think of it, Meg, right to hope and wait for it, and wise to prepare for it, so that when the happy time comes, you may feel ready for the duties and worthy of the joy. My dear girls, I am ambitious for you, but not to have you make a dash in the world, marry rich men merely because they are rich, or have splendid houses, which are not homes because love is wanting. Money is a needful and precious thing, and when well used, a noble thing, but I never want you to think it is the first or only prize to strive for. I'd rather see you poor men's wives, if you were happy, beloved, contented, than queens on thrones, without self-respect and peace."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Poor girls don't stand any chance, Belle says, unless they put themselves forward," sighed Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Then we'll be old maids," said Jo stoutly. "right, Jo. Better be happy old maids than unhappy wives, or unmaidenly girls, running about to find husbands," said Mrs. March decidedly. "Don't be troubled, Meg, poverty seldom daunts a sincere lover. Some of the best and most honored women I know were poor girls, but so love-worthy that they were not allowed to be old maids. Leave these things to time. Make this home happy, so that you may be fit for homes of your own, if they are offered you, and contented here if they are not. One thing remember, my girls. Mother is always ready to be your confidante, Father to be your friend, and both of hope and trust that our daughters, whether married or single, will be the pride and comfort of out lives."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"We will, Marmee, we will!" cried both, with all their hearts, as she bade them good night.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-36172873613158856892022-08-02T10:47:00.005+05:302022-08-02T10:47:30.154+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER EIGHT - Jo Meets Apollyon - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">"Girls, where are you going?" asked Amy, coming into their room one Saturday afternoon, and finding them getting ready to go out with an air of secrecy which excited her curiosity.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Never mind. Little girls shouldn't ask questions," returned Jo sharply.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Now if there is anything mortifying to out feelings when we are young, it is to be told that, and to be bidden to "run away, dear" is still more trying to us. Amy bridled up at this insult, and determined to find out the secret, if she teased for an hour. Turning to Meg, who never refused her anything very long, she said coaxingly, "Do tell me! I should think you might let me go, too, for Beth is fussing over her piano, and I haven't got anything to do, and am so lonely."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I can't, dear, because you aren't invited," began Meg, but Jo broke in impatiently, "Now, Meg, be quiet or you will spoil it all. You can't go, Amy, so don't be a baby and whine about it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You are going somewhere with Laurie, I know you are. You were whispering and laughing together on the sofa last night, and you stopped when I came in. Aren't you going with him?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, we are. Now do be still, and stop bothering."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy held her tongue, but used her eyes, and saw Meg slip a fan into her pocket.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I know! I know! You're going to the theater to see the SEVEN CASTLES!" she cried, adding resolutely, "and I shall go, for Mother said I might see it, and I've got my rag money, and it was mean not to tell me in time."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Just listen to me a minute, and be a good child," said Meg soothingly. "Mother doesn't wish you to go this week, because your eyes are not well enough yet to bear the light of this fairy piece. Next week you can go with Beth and Hannah, and have a nice time."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I don't like that half as well as going with you and Laurie. Please let me. I've been sick with this cold so long, and shut up, I'm dying for some fun. Do, Meg! I'll be ever so good," pleaded Amy, looking as pathetic as she could.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Suppose we take her. I don't believe Mother would mind, if we bundle her up well," began Meg.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"If she goes I shan't, and if I don't, Laurie won't like it, and it will be very rude, after he invited only us, to go and drag in Amy. I should think she'd hate to poke herself where she isn't wanted," said Jo crossly, for she disliked the trouble of overseeing a fidgety child when she wanted to enjoy herself.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Her tone and manner angered Amy, who began to put her boots on, saying, in her most aggravating way, "I shall go. Meg says I may, and if I pay for myself, Laurie hasn't anything to do with it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You can't sit with us, for our seats are reserved, and you mustn't sit alone, so Laurie will give you his place, and that will spoil our pleasure. Or he'll get another seat for you, and that isn't proper when you weren't asked. You shan't stir a step, so you may just stay where you are," scolded Jo, crosser than ever, having just pricked her finger in her hurry.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Sitting on the floor with one boot on, Amy began to cry and Meg to reason with her, when Laurie called from below, and the two girls hurried down, leaving their sister wailing. For now and then she forgot her grown-up ways and acted like a spoiled child. Just as the party was setting out, Amy called over the banisters in a threatening tone, "You'll be sorry for this, Jo March, see if you ain't."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Fiddlesticks!" returned Jo, slamming the door.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They had a charming time, for THE SEVEN CASTLES OF THE DIAMOND LAKE was as brilliant and wonderful as heart could wish. But in spite of the comical red imps, sparkling elves, and the gorgeous princes and princesses, Jo's pleasure had a drop of bitterness in it. The fairy queen's yellow curls reminded her of Amy, and between the acts she amused herself with wondering what her sister would do to make her `sorry for it'. She and Amy had had many lively skirmishes in the course of their lives, for both had quick tempers and were apt to be violent when fairly roused. Amy teased Jo, and Jo irritated Amy, and semioccasional explosions occurred, of which both were much ashamed afterward. Although the oldest, Jo had the least self-control, and had hard times trying to curb the fiery spirit which was continually getting her into trouble. Her anger never lasted long, and having humbly confessed her fault, she sincerely repented and tried to do better. Her sisters used to say that they rather liked to get Jo into a fury because she was such an angel afterward. Poor Jo tried desperately to be good, but her bosom enemy was always ready to flame up and defeat her, and it took years of patient effort to subdue it.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When they got home, they found amy reading in the parlor. She assumed an injured air as they came in, never lifted her eyes from her book, or asked a single question. Perhaps curiosity might have conquered resentment, if Beth had not been there to inquire and receive a glowing description of the play. On going up to put away her best hat, Jo's first look was toward the bureau, for in their last quarrel Amy had soothed her feelings by turning Jo's top drawer upside down on the floor. Everything was in its place, however, and after a hasty glance into her various closets, bags, and boxes, Jo decided that Amy had forgiven and forgotten her wrongs.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">There Jo was mistaken, for next day she made a discovery which produced a tempest. Meg, Beth, and Amy were sitting together, late in the afternoon, when Jo burst into the room, looking excited and demanding breathlessly, "Has anyone taken my book?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg and Beth said, "No." at once, and looked surprised. Amy poked the fire and said nothing. Jo saw her color rise and was down upon her in a minute.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Amy, you've got it!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I haven't."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You know where it is, then!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, I don't."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's a fib!" cried Jo, taking her by the shoulders, and looking fierce enough to frighten a much braver child than Amy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"It isn't. I haven't got it, don't know where it is now, and don't care."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You know something about it, and you'd better tell at once, or I'll make you." And Jo gave her a slight shake.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Scold as much as you like, you'll never see your silly old book again," cried Amy, getting excited in her turn.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"why not?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I burned it up."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"What! My little book I was so fond of, and worked over, and meant to finish before Father got home? Have you really burned it?" said Jo, turning very pale, while her eyes kindled and her hands clutched Amy nervously.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, I did! I told you I'd make you pay for being so cross yesterday, and I have, so..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy got no farther, for Jo's hot temper mastered her, and she shook Amy till her teeth chattered in her head, crying in a passion of grief and anger...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You wicked, wicked girl! I never can write it again, and I'll never forgive you as long as I live."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Meg flew to rescue Amy, and Beth to pacify Jo, but Jo was quite beside herself, and with a parting box on her sister's ear, she rushed out of the room up to the old sofa in the garret, and finished her fight alone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The storm cleared up below, for Mrs. March came home, and, having heard the story, soon brought Amy to a sense of the wrong she had done her sister. Jo's book was the pride of her heart, and was regarded by her family as a literary sprout of great promise. It was only half a dozen little fairy tales, but Jo had worked over them patiently, putting her whole heart into her work, hoping to make something good enough to print. She had just copied them with great care, and had destroyed the old manuscript, so that Amy's bonfire had consumed the loving work of several years. It seemed a small loss to others, but to Jo it was a dreadful calamity, and she felt that it never could be made up to her. Beth mourned as for a departed kitten, and Meg refused to defend her pet. Mrs. March looked grave and grieved, and Amy felt that no one would love her till she had asked pardon for the act which she now regretted more than any of them.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When the tea bell rang, Jo appeared, looking so grim and unapproachable that it took all Amy's courage to say meekly...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Please forgive me, Jo. I'm very, very sorry."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I never shall forgive you," was Jo's stern answer, and from that moment she ignored Amy entirely.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">No one spoke of the great trouble, not even Mrs. March, for all had learned by experience that when Jo was in that mood words were wasted, and the wisest course was to wait till some little accident, or her own generous nature, softened Jo's resentment and healed the breach. It was not a happy evening, for though they sewed as usual, while their mother read aloud from Bremer, Scott, or Edgeworth, something was wanting, and the sweet home peace was disturbed. They felt this most when singing time came, for Beth could only play, Jo stood dumb as a stone, and Amy broke down, so Meg and Mother sang alone. But in spite of their efforts to be as cheery as larks, the flutelike voices did not seem to chord as well as usual, and all felt out of tune.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As Jo received her good-night kiss, Mrs. March whispered gently, "My dear, don't let the sun go down upon your anger. Forgive each other, help each other, and begin again tomorrow."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo wanted to lay her head down on that motherly bosom, and cry her grief and anger all away, but tears were an unmanly weakness, and she felt so deeply injured that she really couldn't quite forgive yet. So she winked hard, shook her head, and said gruffly because Amy was listening, "It was an abominable thing, and she doesn't deserve to be forgiven."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">With that she marched off to bed, and there was no merry or confidential gossip that night.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy was much offended that her overtures of peace had been repulsed, and began to wish she had not humbled herself, to feel more injured than ever, and to plume herself on her superior virtue in a way which was particularly exasperating. Jo still looked like a thunder cloud, and nothing went well all day. It was bitter cold in the morning, she dropped her precious turnover in the gutter, Aunt March had an attack of the fidgets, Meg was sensitive, Beth would look grieved and wistful when she got home, and Amy kept making remarks about people who were always talking about being good and yet wouldn't even try when other people set them a virtuous example. "Everybody is so hateful, I'll ask Laurie to go skating. He is always kind and jolly, and will put me to rights, I know," said Jo to herself, and off she went.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy heard the clash of skates, and looked out with an impatient exclamation.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There! She promised I should go next time, for this is the last ice we shall have. But it's no use to ask such a crosspatch to take me."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't say that. You were very naughty, and it is hard to forgive the loss of her precious little book, but I think she might do it now, and I guess she will, if you try her at the right minute," said Meg. "Go after them. Don't say anything till Jo has got good-natured with Laurie, than take a quiet minute and just kiss her, or do some kind thing, and I'm sure she'll be friends again with all her heart."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll try," said Amy, for the advice suited her, and after a flurry to get ready, she ran after the friends, who were just disappearing over the hill.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">It was not far to the river, but both were ready before Amy reached them. Jo saw her coming, and turned her back. Laurie did not see, for he was carefully skating along the shore, sounding the ice, for a warm spell had preceded the cold snap.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'll go on to the first bend, and see if it's all right before we begin to race," Amy heard him say, as he shot away, looking like a young Russian in his fur-trimmed coat and cap.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo heard Amy panting after her run, stamping her feet and blowing on her fingers as she tried to put her skates on, but Jo never turned and went slowly zigzagging down the river, taking a bitter, unhappy sort of satisfaction in her sister's troubles. She had cherished her anger till it grew strong and took possession of her, as evil thoughts and feelings always do unless cast out at once. As Laurie turned the bend, he shouted back...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Keep near the shore. It isn't safe in the middle." Jo heard, but Amy was struggling to her feet and did not catch a word. Jo glanced over her shoulder, and the little demon she was harboring said in her ear...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No matter whether she heard or not, let her take care of herself."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Laurie had vanished round the bend, Jo was just at the turn, and Amy, far behind, striking out toward the the smoother ice in the middle of the river. For a minute Jo stood still with a strange feeling in her heart, then she resolved to go on, but something held and turned her round, just in time to see Amy throw up her hands and go down, with a sudden crash of rotten ice, the splash of water, and a cry that made Jo's heart stand still with fear. She tried to call Laurie, but her voice was gone. She tried to rush forward, but her feet seemed to have no strength in them, and for a second, she could only stand motionless, staring with a terror-stricken face at the little blue hood above the black water. Something rushed swiftly by her, and Laurie's voice cried out...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bring a rail. Quick, quick!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">How she did it, she never knew, but for the next few minutes she worked as if possessed, blindly obeying Laurie, who was quite self-possessed, and lying flat, held Amy up by his arm and hockey stick till Jo dragged a rail from the fence, and together they got the child out, more frightened than hurt.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Now then, we must walk her home as fast as we can. Pile our things on her, while I get off these confounded skates," cried Laurie, wrapping his coat round Amy, and tugging away at the straps which never seemed so intricate before.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Shivering, dripping, and crying, they got Amy home, and after an exciting time of it, she fell asleep, rolled in blankets before a hot fire. During the bustle Jo had scarcely spoken but flown about, looking pale and wild, with her things half off, her dress torn, and her hands cut and bruised by ice and rails and refractory buckles. When Amy was comfortably asleep, the house quiet, and Mrs. March sitting by the bed, she called Jo to her and began to bind up the hurt hands.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Are you sure she is safe?" whispered Jo, looking remorsefully at the golden head, which might have been swept away from her sight forever under the treacherous ice.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Quite safe, dear. she is not hurt, and won't even take cold, I think, you were so sensible in covering and getting her home quickly," replied her mother cheerfully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Laurie did it all. I only let her go. Mother, if she should die, it would be my fault." And Jo dropped down beside the bed in a passion of penitent tears, telling all that had happened, bitterly condemning her hardness of heart, and sobbing out her gratitude for being spared the heavy punishment which might have come upon her. "It's my dreadful temper! I try to cure it, I think I have, and then it breaks out worse than ever. OH, Mother, what shall I do? What shall I do?" cried poor Jo, in despair.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Watch and pray, dear, never get tired of trying, and never think it is impossible to conquer your fault," said Mrs. March, drawing the blowzy head to her shoulder and kissing the wet cheek so tenderly that Jo cried even harder.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You don't know, you can't guess how bad it is! It seems as if I could do anything when I'm in a passion. I get so savage, I could hurt anyone and enjoy it. I'm afraid I shall do something dreadful some day, and spoil my life, and make everybody hate me. Oh, Mother, help me, do help me!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I will, my child, I will. Don't cry so bitterly, but remember this day, and resolve with all your soul that you will never know another like it. Jo, dear, we all have our temptations, some far greater than yours, and it often takes us all our lives to conquer them. You think your temper is the worst in the world, but mine used to be just like it."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yours, Mother? Why, you are never angry!" And for the moment Jo forgot remorse in surprise.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I've been trying to cure it for forty years, and have only succeeded in controlling it. I am angry nearly every day of my life, Jo, but I have learned not to show it, and I still hope to learn not to feel it, though it may take me another forty years to do so."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The patience and the humility of the face she loved so well was a better lesson to Jo than the wisest lecture, the sharpest reproof. She felt comforted at once by the sympathy and confidence given her. The knowledge that her mother had a fault like hers, and tried to mend it, made her own easier to bear and strengthened her resolution to cure it, though forty years seemed rather a long time to watch and pray to a girl of fifteen.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mother, are you angry when you fold your lips tight together and go out of the room sometimes, when Aunt March scolds or people worry you?" asked Jo, feeling nearer and dearer to her mother than ever before.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, I've learned to check the hasty words that rise to my lips, and when I feel that they mean to break out against my will, I just go away for a minute, and give myself a little shake for being so weak and wicked," answered Mrs. March with a sigh and a smile, as she smoothed and fastened up Jo's disheveled hair.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How did you learn to keep still? That is what troubles me, for the sharp words fly out before I know what I'm about, and the more I say the worse I get, till it's a pleasure to hurt people's feelings and say dreadful things. Tell me how you do it, Marmee dear."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"My good mother used to help me..."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"As you do us..." interrupted Jo, with a grateful kiss.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"But I lost her when I was a little older than you are, and for years had to struggle on alone, for I was too proud to confess my weakness to anyone else. I had a hard time, Jo, and shed a good many bitter tears over my failures, for in spite of my efforts I never seemed to get on. Then your father came, and I was so happy that i found it easy to be good. But by-and-by, when I had four little daughters round me and we were poor, then the old trouble began again, for I am not patient by nature, and it tried me very much to see my children wanting anything."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Poor Mother! What helped you then?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Your father, Jo. He never loses patience, never doubts or complains, but always hopes, and works and waits so cheerfully that one is ashamed to do otherwise before him. He helped and comforted me, and showed me that I must try to practice all the virtues I would have my little girls possess, for I was their example. It was easier to try for your sakes than for my own. A startled or surprised look from one of you when I spoke sharply rebuked me more than any words could have done, and the love, respect, and confidence of my children was the sweetest reward I could receive for my efforts to be the woman I would have them copy."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, Mother, if I'm ever half as good as you, I shall be satisfied," cried Jo, much touched.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I hope you will be a great deal better, dear, but you must keep watch over your `bosom enemy', as father calls it, or it may sadden, if not spoil your life. You have had a warning. Remember it, and try with heart and soul to master this quick temper, before it brings you greater sorrow and regret than you have known today."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I will try, Mother, I truly will. But you must help me, remind me, and keep me from flying out. I used to see Father sometimes put his finger on his lips, and look at you with a very kind but sober face, and you always folded your lips tight and went away. Was he reminding you then?" asked Jo softly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes. I asked him to help me so, and he never forgot it, but saved me from many a sharp word by that little gesture and kind look."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo saw that her mother's eyes filled and her lips trembled as she spoke, and fearing that she had said too much, she whispered anxiously, "Was it wrong to watch you and to speak of it? I didn't mean to be rude, but it's so comfortable to say all I think to you, and feel so safe and happy here."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Mu Jo, you may say anything to your mother, for it is my greatest happiness and pride to feel that my girls confide in me and know how much I love them."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I thought I'd grieved you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"No, dear, but speaking of Father reminded me how much I miss him, how much I owe him, and how faithfully I should watch and work to keep his little daughters safe and good for him."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yet you told him to go, Mother, and didn't cry when he went, and never complain now, or seem as if you needed any help," said Jo, wondering.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I gave my best to the country I love, and kept my tears till he was gone. Why should I complain, when we both have merely done our duty and will surely be the happier for it in the end? If I don't seem to need help, it is because I have a better friend, even than Father, to comfort and sustain me. My child, the troubles and temptations of your life are beginning and may be many, but you can overcome and outlive them all if you learn to feel the strength and tenderness of your Heavenly Father as you do that of your earthly one. The more you love and trust Him, and the less you will depend on human power and wisdom. His love and care never tire or change, can never be taken from you, but my become the source of lifelong peace, happiness, and strength. Believe this heartily, and go to God with all your little cares, and hopes, and sins, and sorrows, as freely and confidingly as you come to your mother."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo's only answer was to hold her mother close, and in the silence which followed the sincerest prayer she had ever prayed left her heart without words. For in that sad yet happy hour, she had learned not only the bitterness of remorse and despair, but the sweetness of self-denial and self-control, and led by her mother's hand, she had drawn nearer to the Friend who always welcomes every child with a love stronger than that of any father, tenderer than that of any mother.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy stirred and sighed in her sleep, and as if eager to begin at once to mend her fault, l Jo looked up with an expression on her face which it had never worn before.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I let the sun go down on my anger. I wouldn't forgive her, and today, if it hadn't been for Laurie, it might have been too late! How could I be so wicked?" said Jo, half aloud, as she leaned over her sister softly stroking the wet hair scattered on the pillow.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As if she heard, Amy opened her eyes, and held out her arms, with a smile that went straight to Jo's heart. Neither said a word, but they hugged one another close, in spite of the blankets, and everything was forgiven and forgotten in one hearty kiss.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-52530424696086589852022-08-02T10:43:00.007+05:302022-08-02T10:43:43.619+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER SEVEN - Amy's Valley of Humiliation - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">"That boy is a perfect cyclops, isn't he?" said Amy one day, as Laurie clattered by on horseback, with a flourish of his whip as he passed.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How dare you say so, when he's got both his eyes? And very handsome ones they are, too," cried Jo, who resented any slighting remarks about her friend.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I didn't day anything about his eyes, and I don't see why you need fire up when I admire his riding."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, my goodness! That little goose means a centaur, and she called him a Cyclops," exclaimed Jo, with a burst of laughter. "You needn't be so rude, it's only a `lapse of lingy', as Mr. Davis says," retorted Amy, finishing Jo with her Latin. "I just wish I had a little of the money Laurie spends on that horse," she added, as if to herself, yet hoping her sisters would hear.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why?" asked Meg kindly, for Jo had gone off in another laugh at Amy's second blunder.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I need it so much. I'm dreadfully in debt, and it won't be my turn to have the rag money for a month."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"In debt, Amy? What do you mean?" And Meg looked sober.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why, I owe at least a dozen pickled limes, and I can't pay them, you know, till I have money, for Marmee forbade my having anything charged at the shop."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Tell me all about it. Are limes the fashion now? It used to be pricking bits of rubber to make balls." And Meg tried to keep her countenance, Amy looked so grave and important.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Why, you see, the girls are always buying them, and unless you want to be thought mean, you must do it too. It's nothing but limes now, for everyone is sucking them in their desks in schooltime, and trading them off for pencils, bead rings, paper dolls, or something else, at recess. If one girl likes another, she gives her a lime. If she's mad with her, she eats one before her face, and doesn't offer even a suck. They treat by turns, and I've had ever so many but haven't returned them, and I ought for they are debts of honor, you know."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How much will pay them off and restore your credit?" asked Meg, taking out her purse."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"A quarter would more than do it, and leave a few cents over for a treat for you. Don't you like limes?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not much. You may have my share. Here's the money. Make it last as long as you can, for it isn't very plenty, you know."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, thank you! It must be so nice to have pocket money! I'll have a grand feast, for I haven't tasted a lime this week. I felt delicate about taking any, as I couldn't return them, and I'm actually suffering for one."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Next day Amy was rather late at school, but could not resist the temptation of displaying, with pardonable pride, a moist brown-paper parcel, before she consigned it to the inmost recesses of her desk. During the next few minutes the rumor that Amy March had got twenty- four delicious limes (she ate one on the way) and was going to treat circulated through her `set', and the attentions of her friends became quite overwhelming. Katy Brown invited her to her next party on the spot. Mary Kinglsey insisted on lending her her watch till recess, and Jenny Snow, a satirical young lady, who had basely twitted Amy upon her limeless state, promptly buried the hatchet and offered to furnish answers to certain appalling sums. But Amy had not forgotten Miss Snow's cutting remarks about `some persons whose noses were not too flat to smell other people's limes, and stuck-up people who were not too proud to ask for them', and she instantly crushed</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">`that Snow girl's' hopes by the withering telegram, "You needn't be so polite all of a sudden, for you won't get any."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">A distinguished personage happened to visit the school that morning, and Amy's beautifully drawn maps received praise, which honor to her foe rankled in the soul of Miss Snow, and caused Miss March to assume the airs of a studious young peacock. But, alas, alas! Pride goes before a fall, and the revengeful Snow turned the tables with disastrous success. No sooner had the guest paid the usual stale compliments and bowed himself out, than Jenny, under pretense of asking an important question, informed Mr. Davis, the teacher, that Amy March had pickled limes in her desk.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Now Mr. Davis had declared limes a contraband article, and solemnly vowed to publicly ferrule the first person who was found breaking the law. This much-enduring man had succeeded in banishing chewing gum after a long and stormy war, had made a bonfire of the confiscated novels and newspapers, had suppressed a private post office, had forbidden distortions of the face, nicknames, and caricatures, and done all that one man could do to keep half a hundred rebellious girls in order. Boys are trying enough to human patience, goodness knows, but girls are infinitely more so, especially to nervous gentlemen with tyrannical tempers and no more talent for teaching than Dr. Blimber. Mr. Davis knew any quantity of Greek, Latin, algebra, and ologies of all sorts so he was called a fine teacher, and manners, morals, feelings, and examples were not considered of any particular importance. It was a most unfortunate moment for denouncing Amy, and Jenny knew it. Mr. Davis had evidently taken his coffee too strong that morning, there was an east wind, which always affected his neuralgia, and his pupils had not done him the credit which he felt he deserved. Therefore, to use the expressive, if not elegant, language of a schoolgirl, "He was as nervous as a witch and as cross as a bear". The word `limes' was like fire to powder, his yellow face flushed, and he rapped on his desk with an energy which made Jenny skip to her seat with unusual rapidity.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Young ladies, attention, if you please!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">At the stern order the buzz ceased, and fifty pairs of blue, black, gray, and brown eyes were obediently fixed upon his awful countenance.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Miss March, come to the desk."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy rose to comply with outward composure, but a secret fear oppressed her, for the limes weighed upon her conscience.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bring with you the limes you have in your desk," was the unexpected command which arrested her before she got out of her seat.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Don't take all." whispered her neighbor, a young lady of great presence of mind.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy hastily shook out half a dozen and laid the rest down before Mr. Davis, feeling that any man possessing a human heart would relent when that delicious perfume met his nose. Unfortunately, Mr. Davis particularly detested the odor of the fashionable pickle, and disgust added to his wrath.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Is that all?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not quite," stammered Amy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Bring the rest immediately."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">With a despairing glance at her set, she obeyed.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You are sure there are no more?'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I never lie, sir."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So I see. Now take these disgusting things two by two, and throw them out of the window."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">There was a simultaneous sigh, which created quite a little gust, as the last hope fled, and the treat was ravished from their longing lips. Scarlet with shame and anger, Amy went to and fro six dreadful times, and as each doomed couple, looking oh, so plump and juicy, fell from her reluctant hands, a shout from the street completed the anguish of the girls, for it told them that their feast was being exulted over by the little Irish children, who were their sworn foes. This--this was too much. All flashed indignant or appealing glances at the inexorable Davis, and one passionate lime lover burst into tears.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">As Amy returned from her last trip, Mr. Davis gave a portentous "Hem!" and said, in his most impressive manner...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Young ladies, you remember what I said to you a week ago. I am sorry this has happened, but I never allow my rules to be infringed, and I never break my word. Miss March, hold out your hand."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Amy started, and put both hands behind her, turning on him an imploring look which pleaded for her better than the words she could not utter. She was rather a favorite with `old Davis', as, of course, he was called, and it's my private belief that he would have broken his word if the indignation of one irrepressible young lady had not found vent in a hiss. That hiss, faint as it was, irritated the irascible gentleman, and sealed the culprit's fate.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Your hand, Miss March!" was the only answer her mute appeal received, and too proud to cry or beseech, Amy set her teeth, threw bach her head defiantly, and bore without flinching several tingling blows on her little palm. They were neither many nor heavy, but that made no difference to her. For the first time in her life she had been struck, and the disgrace, in her eyes, was as deep as if he had knocked her down.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You will now stand on the platform till recess," said Mr. Davis, resolved to do the thing thoroughly, since he had begun.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">That was dreadful. It would have been bad enough to go to her seat, and see the pitying faces of her friends, or the satisfied ones of her few enemies, but to face the whole school, with that shame fresh upon her, seemed impossible, and for a second she felt as if she could only drop down where she stood, and break her heart with crying. A bitter sense of wrong and the thought of Jenny Snow helped her to bear it, and, taking the ignominious place, she fixed her eyes on the stove funnel above what now seemed a sea of faces, and stood there, so motionless and white that the girls found it hard to study with that pathetic figure before them.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">During the fifteen minutes that followed, the proud and sensitive little girl suffered a shame and pain which she never forgot. To others it might seem a ludicrous or trivial affair, but to her it was a hard experience, for during the twelve years of her life she had been governed by love alone, and a blow of that sort had never touched her before. The smart of her hand and the ache of her heart were forgotten in the sting of the thought, "I shall have to tell at home, and they will be so disappointed in me!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">The fifteen minutes seemed an hour, but they came to an end at last, and the word `Recess!' had never seemed so welcome to her before.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You can go, Miss March," said Mr. Davis, looking, as he felt, uncomfortable.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">He did not soon forget the reproachful glance Amy gave him, as she went, without a word to anyone, straight into the anteroom, snatched her things, and left the place "forever," as she passionately declared to herself. She was in a sad state when she got home, and when the older girls arrived, some time later, an indignation meeting was held at once. Mrs. March did not say much but looked disturbed, and comforted her afflicted little daughter in her tenderest manner. Meg bathed the insulted hand with glycerine and tears, Beth felt that even her beloved kittens would fail as a balm for griefs like this, Jo wrathfully proposed that Mr. Davis be arrested without delay, and Hannah shook her fist at the `villain' and pounded potatoes for dinner as if she had him under her pestle.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">No notice was taken of Amy's flight, except by her mates, but the sharp-eyed demoiselles discovered that Mr. Davis was quite benignant in the afternoon, also unusually nervous. Just before school closed, Jo appeared, wearing a grim expression as she stalked up to the desk, and delivered a letter from her mother, then collected Amy's property, and departed, carefully scraping the mud from her boots on the door mat, as if she shook that dust of the place off her feet.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, you can have a vacation from school, but I want you to study a little every day with Beth," said Mrs. March that evening. "I don't approve of corporal punishment, especially for girls. I dislike Mr. Davis's manner of teaching and don't think the girls you associate with are doing you any good, so I shall ask your father's advice before I send you anywhere else."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"That's good! I wish all the girls would leave, and spoil his old school. It's perfectly maddening to think of those lovely limes," sighed Amy, with the air of a martyr.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I am not sorry you lost them, for you broke the rules, and deserved some punishment for disobedience," was the severe reply, which rather disappointed the young lady, who expected nothing but sympathy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Do you mean you are glad I was disgraced before the whole school?" cried Amy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I should not have chosen that way of mending a fault," replied her mother, "but I'm not sure that it won't do you more good than a molder method. You are getting to be rather conceited, my dear, and it is quite time you set about correcting it. You have a good many little gifts and virtues, but there is no need of parading them, for conceit spoils the finest genius. There is not much danger that real talent or goodness will be overlooked long, even if it is, the consciousness of possessing and using it well should satisfy one, and the great charm of all power is modesty."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"So it is!" cried Laurie, who was playing chess in a corner with Jo. "I knew a girl once, who had a really remarkable talent for music, and she didn't know it, never guessed what sweet little things she composed when she was alone, and wouldn't have believed it if anyone had told her."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I wish I'd known that nice girl. Maybe she would have helped me, I'm so stupid," said Beth, who stood beside him, listening eagerly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You do know her, and she helps you better than anyone else could," answered Laurie, looking at her with such mischievous meaning in his merry black eyes that Beth suddenly turned very red, and hid her face in the sofa cushion, quite overcome by such an unexpected discovery.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo let Laurie win the game to pay for that praise of her Beth, who could not be prevailed upon to play for them after her compliment. So Laurie did his best, and sang delightfully, being in a particularly lively humor, for to the Marches he seldom showed the moody side of his character. When he was gone, amy, who had been pensive all evening, said suddenly, as if busy over some new idea, "Is Laurie an accomplished boy?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, he has had an excellent education, and has much talent. He will make a fine man, if not spoiled by petting," replied her mother.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"And he isn't conceited, is he?" asked Amy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not in the least. That is why he is so charming and we all like him so much." "I see. It's nice to have accomplishments and be elegant, but not to show off or get perked up," said Amy thoughtfully.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"These things are always seen and felt in a person's manner and conversations, if modestly used, but it is not necessary to display them," said Mrs. March.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Any more than it's proper to wear all your bonnets and gowns and ribbons at once, that folks may know you've got them," added Jo, and the lecture ended in a laugh.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6569064208225812786.post-60809769608068619532022-08-02T10:42:00.005+05:302022-08-02T10:42:37.187+05:30PART ONE: CHAPTER SIX - Beth Finds the Palace Beautiful - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott<p> <span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">The big house did prove a Palace Beautiful, though it took some time for all to get in, and Beth found it very hard to pass the lions. Old Mr. Laurence was the biggest one, but after he had called, said something funny or kind to each one of the girls, and talked over old times with their mother, nobody felt much afraid of him, except timid Beth. The other lion was the fact that they were poor and Laurie rich, for this made them shy of accepting favors which they could not return. But, after a while, they found that he considered them the benefactors, and could not do enough to show how grateful he was for Mrs. March's motherly welcome, their cheerful society, and the comfort he took in that humble home of theirs. So they soon forgot their pride and interchanged kindnesses without stopping to think which was the greater.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">All sorts of pleasant things happened about that time, for the new friendship flourished like grass in spring. Every one liked Laurie, and he privately informed his tutor that "the Marches were regularly splendid girls." With the delightful enthusiasm of youth, they took the solitary boy into their midst and made much of him, and he found something very charming in the innocent companionship of these simple-hearted girls. Never having known mother or sisters, he was quick to feel the influences they brought about him, and their busy, lively ways made him ashamed of the indolent life he led. He was tired of books, and found people so interesting now that Mr. Brooke was obliged to make very unsatisfactory reports, for Laurie was always playing truant and running over to the Marches'.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Never mind, let him take a holiday, and make it up afterward," said the old gentleman. "The good lady next door says he is studying too hard and needs young society, amusement, and exercise. I suspect she is right, and that I've been coddling the fellow as if I'd been his grandmother. Let him do what he likes, as long as he is happy. He can't get into mischief in that little nunnery over there, and Mrs. March is doing more for him than we can."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">What good times they had, to be sure. Such plays and tableaux, such sleigh rides and skating frolics, such pleasant evenings in the old parlor, and now and then such gay little parties at the great house. Meg could walk in the conservatory whenever she liked and revel in bouquets, Jo browsed over the new library voraciously, and convulsed the old gentleman with her criticisms, Amy copied pictures and enjoyed beauty to her heart's content, and Laurie played `lord of the manor' in the most delightful style.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">But Beth, though yearning for the grand piano, could not pluck up courage to go to the `Mansion of Bliss', as Meg called it. She went once with Jo, but the old gentleman, not being aware of her infirmity, stared at her so hard from under his heavy eyebrows, and said "Hey!" so loud, that he frightened her so much her `feet chattered on the floor', she never told her mother, and she ran away, declaring she would never go there any more, not even for the dear piano. No persuasions or enticements could overcome her fear, till, the fact coming to Mr. Laurence's ear in some mysterious way, he set about mending matters. During one of the brief calls he made, he artfully led the conversation to music, and talked away about great singers whom he had seen, fine organs he had heard, and told such charming anecdotes that Beth found it impossible to stay in her distant corner, but crept nearer and nearer, as if fascinated. At the back of his chair she stopped and stood listening, with her great eyes wide open and her cheeks red with excitement of this unusual performance. Taking no more notice of her than if she had been a fly, Mr. Laurence talked on about Laurie's lessons and teachers. And presently, as if the idea had just occurred to him, he said to Mrs. March...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"The boy neglects his music now, and I'm glad of it, for he was getting too fond of it. But the piano suffers for want of use. Wouldn't some of your girls like to run over, and practice on it now and then, just to keep it in tune, you know, ma`am?"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Beth took a step forward, and pressed her hands tightly together to keep from clapping them, for this was an irresistible temptation, and the thought of practicing on that splendid instrument quite took her breath away. Before Mrs. March could reply, Mr. Laurence went on with an odd little nod and smile...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"They needn't see or speak to anyone, but run in at any time. For I'm shut up in my study at the other end of the house, Laurie is out a great deal, and the servants are never near the drawing room after nine o'clock."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Here he rose, as if going, and Beth made up her mind to speak, for that last arrangement left nothing to be desired. "Please, tell the young ladies what I say, and if they don't care to come, why, never mind." Here a little hand slipped into his, and Beth looked up at him with a face full of gratitude, as she said, in her earnest yet timid way...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh sir, they do care, very very much!" "Are you the musical girl?" he asked, without any startling "Hey!" as he looked down at her very kindly.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I'm Beth. I love it dearly, and I'll come, if you are quite sure nobody will hear me, and be disturbed," she added, fearing to be rude, and trembling at her own boldness as she spoke.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Not a soul, my dear. The house is empty half the day, so come and drum away as much as you like, and I shall be obliged to you."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"How kind you are, sir!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Beth blushed like a rose under the friendly look he wore, but she was not frightened now, and gave the hand a grateful squeeze because she had no words to thank him for the precious gift he had given her. The old gentleman softly stroked the hair off her forehead, and, stooping down, he kissed herr, saying, in a tone few people ever heard...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"I had a little girl once, with eyes like these. God bless you, my dear! Good day. madam." And away he went, in a great hurry.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Beth had a rapture with her mother, and then rushed up to impart the glorious news to her family of invalids, as the girls were not home. How blithely she sang that evening, and how they all laughed at her because she woke Amy in the night by playing the piano on her face in her sleep. Next day, having seen both the old and young gentleman out of the house, Beth, after two or three retreats, fairly got in at the side door, and made her way as noiselessly as any mouse to the drawing room where her idol stood. Quite by accident, of course, some pretty, easy music lay on the piano, and with trembling fingers and frequent stops to listen and look about, Beth at last touched the great instrument, and straightway forgot her fear, herself, and everything else but the unspeakable delight which the music gave her, for it was like the voice of a beloved friend.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">She stayed till Hannah came to take her home to dinner, but she had no appetite, and could only sit and smile upon everyone in a general state of beatitude.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">After that, the little brown hood slipped through the hedge nearly every day, and the great drawing room was haunted by a tuneful spirit that came and went unseen. She never knew that Mr. Laurence opened his study door to hear the old-fashioned airs he liked. She never saw Laurie mount guard in the hall to warn the servants away. She never suspected that the exercise books and new songs which she found in the rack were put there for her especial benefit, and when he talked to her about music at home, she only thought how kind he was to tell things that helped her so much. So she enjoyed herself heartily, and found, what isn't always the case, that her granted wish was all she had hoped. Perhaps it was because she was so grateful for this blessing that a greater was given her. At any rate she deserved both. "Mother, I'm going to work Mr. Laurence a pair of slippers. He is so kind to me, I must thank him, and I don't know any other way. Can I do it?" asked Beth, a few weeks after that eventful call of his.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, dear. It will please him very much, and be a nice way of thanking him. The girls will help you about them, and I will pay for the making up," replied Mrs. March, who took peculiar pleasure in granting Beth's requests because she so seldom asked anything for herself.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">After many serious discussions with Meg and Jo, the pattern was chosen, the materials bought, and the slippers begun. A cluster of grave yet cheerful pansies on a deeper purple ground was pronounced very appropriate and pretty, and beth worked away early and late, with occasional lifts over hard parts. She was a nimble little needlewoman, and they were finished before anyone got tired of them. Then she wrote a short, simple note, and with Laurie's help, got them smuggled onto the study table one morning before the old gentleman was up.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When this excitement was over, Beth waited to see what would happen. All day passed a a part of the next before any acknowledgement arrived, and she was beginning to fear she had offended her crochety friend. On the afternoon of the second day, she went out to do an errand, and give poor Joanna, the invalid doll, her daily exercise. As she came up the street, on her return, she saw three, yes, four heads popping in and out of the parlor windows, and the moment they saw her, several hands were waved, and several joyful voices screamed...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Here's a letter from the old gentleman! Come quick, and read it!"</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Oh, Beth, he's sent you..." began Amy, gesticulating with unseemly energy, but she got no further, for Jo quenched her by slamming down the window.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Beth hurried on in a flutter of suspense. At the door her sisters seized and bore her to the parlor in a triumphal procession, all pointing and all saying at once, "Look there! Look there!" Beth did look, and turned pale with delight and surprise, for there stood a little cabinet piano, with a letter lying on the glossy lid, directed like a sign board to "Miss Elizabeth March."</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"For me?" gasped Beth, holding onto Jo and feeling as if she should tumble down, it was such an overwhelming thing altogether.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, all for you, my precious! Isn't it splendid of him? Don't you think he's the dearest old man in the world? Here's the key in the letter. We didn't open it, but we are dying to know what he says," cried Jo, hugging her sister and offering the note.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You read it! I can't, I feel so queer! Oh, it is too lovely!" and Beth hid her face in Jo's apron, quite upset by her present.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Jo opened the paper and began to laugh, for the first worked she saw were...</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Miss March: "Dear Madam--" "How nice it sounds! I wish someone would write to me so!" said Amy, who thought the old-fashioned address very elegant.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"`I have had many pairs of slippers in my life, but I never had any that suited me so well as yours, '" continues Jo. "`Heartsease is my favorite flower, and these will always remind me of the gentle giver. I like to pay my debts, so I know you will allow `the old gentleman' to send you something which once belonged to the little grand daughter he lost. With hearty thanks and best wishes, I remain "`Your grateful friend and humble servant, "`JAMES LAURENCE'</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"There, Beth, that's an honor to be proud of, I'm sure! Laurie told me how fond Mr.Laurence used to be of the child who died, and how he kept all her little things carefully. Just think, he's given you her piano. That comes of having big blue eyes and loving music," said Jo, trying to soothe Beth, who trembled and looked more excited than she had ever been before.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"See the cunning brackets to hold candles, and the nice green sild, puckered up, with a gold rose in the middle, and the pretty rack and stool, all complete," added Meg, opening the instrument and displaying its beauties.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"`Your humble servant, James Laurence'. Only think of his writing that to you. I'll tell the girls. They'll think it's splendid," said Amy, much impressed by the note.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Try it, honey. Let's hear the sound of the baby pianny," said Hannah, who always took a share in the family joys and sorrows.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">So Beth tried it, and everyone pronounced it the most remarkable piano ever heard. It had evidently been newly tuned and put in apple- pie order, but, perfect as it was, I think the real charm lay in the happiest of all happy faces which leaned over it, as Beth lovingly touched the beautiful black and white keys and pressed the bright pedals.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"You'll have to go and thank him," said Jo, by way of a joke, for the idea of the child's really going never entered her head.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Yes, I mean to. I guess I'll go no, before I get frightened thinking about it." And, to the utter amazement of the assembled family, Beth walked deliberately down the garden, through the hedge, and in at the Laurences' door.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">"Well, I wish I may die if it ain't the queerest thing I ever see! The pianny has turned her head! She'd never have gone in her right mind," cried Hannah, staring after her, while the girls were rendered quite speechless by the miracle.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">They would have been still more amazed if they had seen what Beth did afterward. If you will believe me, she went and knocked at the study door before she gave herself time to think, and when a gruff voice called out, "come in!" she did go in, right up to Mr. Laurence, who looked quite taken aback, and held out her hand, saying, with only a small quaver in her voice, "I came to thank you, sir, for..." But she didn't finish, for he looked so friendly that she forgot her speech and, only remembering that he had lost the little girl he loved, she put both arms round his neck and kissed him.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">If the roof of the house had suddenly flown off, the old gentleman wouldn't have been more astonished. But he liked it. Oh, dear, yes, he liked it amazingly! And was so touched and pleased by that confiding little kiss that all his crustiness vanished, and he just set her on his knee, and laid his wrinkled cheek against her rosy one, feeling as if he had got his own little grand daughter back again. Beth ceased to fear him from that moment, and sat there talking to him as cozily as if she had known him all her life, for love casts out fear, and gratitude can conquer pride. When she went home, he walked with her to her own gate, shook hands cordially, and touched his hat as he marched back again, looking very stately and erect, like a handsome, soldierly old gentleman, as he was.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">When the girls saw that performance, Jo began to dance a jig, by way of expressing her satisfaction, Amy nearly fell out of the window in her surprise, and Meg exclaimed, with up-lifted hands, "Well, I do believe the world is coming to an end.</p>Online Earnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09133042492060843694noreply@blogger.com0