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- Луиза Мэй Олкотт
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- Стр. 23/451
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She
did
take
off
the
papers
,
but
no
cloud
of
ringlets
appeared
,
for
the
hair
came
with
the
papers
,
and
the
horrified
hairdresser
laid
a
row
of
little
scorched
bundles
on
the
bureau
before
her
victim
.
"
Oh
,
oh
,
oh
!
What
have
you
done
?
I
’
m
spoiled
!
I
can
’
t
go
!
My
hair
,
oh
,
my
hair
!
"
wailed
Meg
,
looking
with
despair
at
the
uneven
frizzle
on
her
forehead
.
"
Just
my
luck
!
You
shouldn
’
t
have
asked
me
to
do
it
.
I
always
spoil
everything
.
I
’
m
so
sorry
,
but
the
tongs
were
too
hot
,
and
so
I
’
ve
made
a
mess
,
"
groaned
poor
Jo
,
regarding
the
little
black
pancakes
with
tears
of
regret
.
"
It
isn
’
t
spoiled
.
Just
frizzle
it
,
and
tie
your
ribbon
so
the
ends
come
on
your
forehead
a
bit
,
and
it
will
look
like
the
last
fashion
.
I
’
ve
seen
many
girls
do
it
so
,
"
said
Amy
consolingly
.
"
Serves
me
right
for
trying
to
be
fine
.
I
wish
I
’
d
let
my
hair
alone
,
"
cried
Meg
petulantly
.
"
So
do
I
,
it
was
so
smooth
and
pretty
.
But
it
will
soon
grow
out
again
,
"
said
Beth
,
coming
to
kiss
and
comfort
the
shorn
sheep
.
After
various
lesser
mishaps
,
Meg
was
finished
at
last
,
and
by
the
united
exertions
of
the
entire
family
Jo
’
s
hair
was
got
up
and
her
dress
on
.
They
looked
very
well
in
their
simple
suits
,
Meg
’
s
in
silvery
drab
,
with
a
blue
velvet
snood
,
lace
frills
,
and
the
pearl
pin
.
Jo
in
maroon
,
with
a
stiff
,
gentlemanly
linen
collar
,
and
a
white
chrysanthemum
or
two
for
her
only
ornament
.
Each
put
on
one
nice
light
glove
,
and
carried
one
soiled
one
,
and
all
pronounced
the
effect
"
quite
easy
and
fine
"
.
Meg
’
s
high
-
heeled
slippers
were
very
tight
and
hurt
her
,
though
she
would
not
own
it
,
and
Jo
’
s
nineteen
hairpins
all
seemed
stuck
straight
into
her
head
,
which
was
not
exactly
comfortable
,
but
,
dear
me
,
let
us
be
elegant
or
die
.
"
Have
a
good
time
,
dearies
!
"
said
Mrs
.
March
,
as
the
sisters
went
daintily
down
the
walk
.
"
Don
’
t
eat
much
supper
,
and
come
away
at
eleven
when
I
send
Hannah
for
you
.
"
As
the
gate
clashed
behind
them
,
a
voice
cried
from
a
window
.
.
.
"
Girls
,
girls
!
Have
you
you
both
got
nice
pocket
handkerchiefs
?
"
