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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.
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 rosy-faced mandarin.
"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.
"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.
"That's my only comfort." And, touching her hat a` la Laurie,
away went Jo, feeling like a shorn sheep on a wintry day.
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.
My dearest Mother:
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
`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...
MEG
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.
My precious Marmee:
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.
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...
TOPSY-TURVY JO
A SONG FROM THE SUDS
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.
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!
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.
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!"
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