“Doitthisway。Claspyourhandsso,andstaggeracrosstheroom,cryingfrantically,`RoderigoSaveme!Saveme!’andawaywentJo,withamelodramaticscreamwhichwastrulythrilling。
Amyfollowed,butshepokedherhandsoutstifflybeforeher,andjerkedherselfalongasifshewentbymachinery,andher“Ow!“
wasmoresuggestiveofpinsbeingrunintoherthanoffearandanguish。Jogaveadespairinggroan,andMeglaughedoutright,whileBethletherbreadburnasshewatchedthefunwithinterest。
“It’snouse!Dothebestyoucanwhenthetimecomes,andiftheaudiencelaughs,don’tblameme。Comeon,Meg。“
“Thenthingswentsmoothly,forDonPedrodefiedtheworldinaspeechoftwopageswithoutasinglebreak。Hagar,thewitch,chantedanawfulincantationoverherkettlefulofsimmeringtoads,withweirdeffect。Roderigorenthischainsasundermanfully,andHugodiedinagoniesofremorseandarsenic,withawild,“Ha!Ha!“
“It’sthebestwe’vehadyet,“saidMeg,asthedeadvillainsatupandrubbedhiselbows。
“Idon’tseehowyoucanwriteandactsuchsplendidthings,Jo。You’rearegularShakespeare!“exclaimedBeth,whofirmlybelievedthathersistersweregiftedwithwonderfulgeniusinallthings。
“Notquite,“repliedJomodestly。“IdothinkTHEWITCHESCURSE,anOperaticTragedyisratheranicething,butI’dliketotryMcBETH,ifweonlyhadatrapdoorforBanquo。Ialwayswantedtodothekillingpart。`IsthatadaggerthatIseebeforeme?“
mutteredJo,rollinghereyesandclutchingattheair,asshehadseenafamoustragediando。
“No,it’sthetoastingfork,withMother’sshoeonitinsteadofthebread。Beth’sstage-struck!“criedMeg,andtherehearsalendedinageneralburstoflaughter。
“Gladtofindyousomerry,mygirls,“saidacheeryvoiceatthedoor,andactorsandaudienceturnedtowelcomeatall,motherlyladywitha`canIhelpyou’lookaboutherwhichwastrulydelightful。
Shewasnotelegantlydressed,butanoble-lookingwoman,andthegirlsthoughtthegraycloakandunfashionablebonnetcoveredthemostsplendidmotherintheworld。
“Well,dearies,howhaveyougotontoday?Therewassomuchtodo,gettingtheboxesreadytogotomorrow,thatIdidn’tcomehometodinner。Hasanyonecalled,Beth?Howisyourcold,Meg?
Jo,youlooktiredtodeath。Comeandkissme,baby。“
WhilemakingthesematernalinquiriesMrs。Marchgotherwetthingsoff,herwarmslipperson,andsittingdownintheeasychair,drewAmytoherlap,preparingtoenjoythehappiesthourofherbusyday。Thegirlsflewabout,tryingtomakethingscomfortable,eachinherownway。Megarrangedtheteatable,Jobroughtwoodandsetchairs,dropping,over-turning,andclatteringeverythingshetouched。Bethtrottedtoandfrobetweenparlorkitchen,quietandbusy,whileAmygavedirectionstoeveryone,asshesatwithherhandsfolded。
Astheygatheredaboutthetable,Mrs。Marchsaid,withaparticularlyhappyface,“I’vegotatreatforyouaftersupper。“
Aquick,brightsmilewentroundlikeastreakofsunshine。
Bethclappedherhands,regardlessofthebiscuitsheheld,andJotosseduphernapkin,crying,“Aletter!Aletter!
ThreecheersforFather!“
“Yes,anicelongletter。Heiswell,andthinksheshallgetthroughthecoldseasonbetterthanwefeared。HesendsallsortsoflovingwishesforChristmas,andanespecialmessagetoyougirls,“saidMrs。March,pattingherpocketasifshehadgotatreasurethere。
“Hurryandgetdone!Don’tstoptoquirkyourlittlefingerandsimperoveryourplate,Amy,“criedJo,chokingonherteaanddroppingherbread,buttersidedown,onthecarpetinherhastetogetatthetreat。
Bethatenomore,butcreptawaytositinhershadowycornerandbroodoverthedelighttocome,tilltheotherswereready。
“IthinkitwassosplendidinFathertogoaschaplainwhenhewastoooldtobedrafted,andnotstrongenoughforasoldier,“saidMegwarmly。
“Don’tIwishIcouldgoasadrummer,avivan——what’sitsname?Oranurse,soIcouldbenearhimandhelphim,“exclaimedJo,withagroan。
“Itmustbeverydisagreeabletosleepinatent,andeatallsortsofbad-tastingthings,anddrinkoutofatinmug,“
sighedAmy。
“Whenwillhecomehome,Marmee?askedBeth,withalittlequiverinhervoice。
“Notformanymonths,dear,unlessheissick。Hewillstayanddohisworkfaithfullyaslongashecan,andwewon’taskforhimbackaminutesoonerthanhecanbespared。Nowcomeandheartheletter。“
Theyalldrewtothefire,MotherinthebigchairwithBethatherfeet,MegandAmyperchedoneitherarmofthechair,andJoleaningontheback,wherenoonewouldseeanysignofemotionifthelettershouldhappentobetouching。Veryfewletterswerewritteninthosehardtimesthatwerenottouching,especiallythosewhichfatherssenthome。Inthisonelittlewassaidofthehardshipsendured,thedangersfaced,orthehomesicknessconquered。
Itwasacheerful,hopefulletter,fulloflivelydescriptionsofcamplife,marches,andmilitarynews,andonlyattheenddidthewriter’sheartover-flowwithfatherlyloveandlongingforthelittlegirlsathome。
“Givethemallofmydearloveandakiss。TellthemIthinkofthembyday,prayforthembynight,andfindmybestcomfortintheiraffectionatalltimes。AyearseemsverylongtowaitbeforeIseethem,butremindthemthatwhilewewaitwemayallwork,sothattheseharddaysneednotbewasted。IknowtheywillrememberallIsaidtothem,thattheywillbelovingchildrentoyou,willdotheirdutyfaithfully,fighttheirbosomenemiesbravely,andconquerthemselvessobeautifullythatwhenIcomebacktothemImaybefonderandprouderthaneverofmylittlewomen。“
Everybodysniffedwhentheycametothatpart。Jowasn’tashamedofthegreattearthatdroppedofftheendofhernose,andAmynevermindedtherumplingofhercurlsasshehidherfaceonhermother’sshoulderandsobbedout,“Iamaselfishgirl!ButI’lltrulytrytobebetter,sohemayn’tbedisappointedinmeby-and-by。“
Weallwill,“criedMeg。“Ithinktoomuchofmylooksandhatetowork,butwon’tanymore,ifIcanhelpit。“
“I’lltryandbewhathelovestocallme,`alittlewoman’
andnotberoughandwild,butdomydutyhereinsteadofwantingtobesomewhereelse,“saidJo,thinkingthatkeepinghertemperathomewasamuchhardertaskthanfacingarebelortwodownSouth。
Bethsaidnothing,butwipedawayhertearswiththebluearmysockandbegantoknitwithallhermight,losingnotimeindoingthedutythatlaynearesther,whilesheresolvedinherquietlittlesoultobeallthatFatherhopedtofindherwhentheyearbroughtroundthehappycominghome。
Mrs。MarchbrokethesilencethatfollowedJo’swords,bysayinginhercheeryvoice,“DoyourememberhowyouusedtoplayPilgrimsProgresswhenyouwerelittlethings?Nothingdelightedyoumorethantohavemetiemypiecebagsonyourbacksforburdens,giveyouhatsandsticksandrollsofpaper,andletyoutravelthroughthehousefromthecellar,whichwastheCityofDestruction,up,up,tothehousetop,whereyouhadallthelovelythingsyoucouldcollecttomakeaCelestialCity。“
“Whatfunitwas,especiallygoingbythelions,fightingApollyon,andpassingthroughthevalleywherethehob-goblinswere,“saidJo。
“Ilikedtheplacewherethebundlesfelloffandtumbleddownstairs,“saidMeg。
“Idon’tremembermuchaboutit,exceptthatIwasafraidofthecellarandthedarkentry,andalwayslikedthecakeandmilkwehadupatthetop。IfIwasn’ttoooldforsuchthings,I’dratherliketoplayitoveragain,“saidAmy,whobegantotalkofrenouncingchildishthingsatthematureageoftwelve。
“Weneveraretoooldforthis,mydear,becauseitisaplayweareplayingallthetimeinonewayoranother。Outburdensarehere,ourroadisbeforeus,andthelongingforgoodnessandhappinessistheguidethatleadsusthroughmanytroublesandmistakestothepeacewhichisatrueCelestialCity。Now,mylittlepilgrims,supposeyoubeginagain,notinplay,butinearnest,andseehowfaronyoucangetbeforeFathercomeshome。“
“Really,Mother?Whereareourbundles?“askedAmy,whowasaveryliteralyounglady。
“Eachofyoutoldwhatyourburdenwasjustnow,exceptBeth。
Iratherthinkshehasn’tgotany,“saidhermother。
“Yes,Ihave。Mineisdishesanddusters,andenvyinggirlswithnicepianos,andbeingafraidofpeople。“
Beth’sbundlewassuchafunnyonethateverybodywantedtolaugh,butnobodydid,foritwouldhavehurtherfeelingsverymuch。
“Letusdoit,“saidMegthoughtfully。“Itisonlyanothernamefortryingtobegood,andthestorymayhelpus,forthoughwedowanttobegood,it’shardworkandweforget,anddon’tdoourbest。“
“WewereintheSloughofDespondtonight,andMothercameandpulledusoutasHelpdidinthebook。Weoughttohaveourrollofdirections,likeChristian。Whatshallwedoaboutthat?“
askedJo,delightedwiththefancywhichlentalittleromancetotheverydulltaskofdoingherduty。
“Lookunderyourpillowschristmasmorning,andyouwillfindyourguidebook,“repliedMrs。March。
TheytalkedoverthenewplanwhileoldHannahclearedthetable,thenoutcamethefourlittleworkbaskets,andtheneedlesflewasthegirlsmadesheetsforAuntMarch。Itwasuninterestingsewing,buttonightnoonegrumbled。TheyadoptedJo’splanofdividingthelongseamsintofourparts,andcallingthequartersEurope,Asia,Africa,andAmerica,andinthatwaygotoncapitally,especiallywhentheytalkedaboutthedifferentcountriesastheystitchedtheirwaythroughthem。
Atninetheystoppedwork,andsang,asusual,beforetheywenttobed。NoonebutBethcouldgetmuchmusicoutoftheoldpiano,butshehadawayofsoftlytouchingtheyellowkeysandmakingapleasantaccompanimenttothesimplesongstheysang。
Meghadavoicelikeaflute,andsheandherrmotherledthelittlechoir。Amychirpedlikeacricket,andJowanderedthroughtheairsatherownsweetwill,alwayscomingoutatthewrongplacewithacroakoraquaverthatspoiledthemostpensivetune。Theyhadalwaysdonethisfromthetimetheycouldlisp……
Crinkle,crinkle,’ittle’tar,andithadbecomeahouseholdcustom,forthemotherwasabornsinger。Thefirstsoundinthemorningwashervoiceasshewentaboutthehousesinginglikealark,andthelastsoundatnightwasthesamecheerysound,forthegirlsnevergrewtoooldforthatfamiliarlullaby。