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- Луиза Мэй Олкотт
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As
everyone
was
out
of
the
way
but
herself
,
Jo
began
to
feel
that
she
ought
to
dispose
of
herself
with
all
speed
.
But
where
should
she
go
?
And
burning
to
lay
herself
upon
the
shrine
of
sisterly
devotion
,
she
sat
down
to
settle
that
point
.
Now
,
the
old
sofa
was
a
regular
patriarch
of
a
sofa
—
long
,
broad
,
well
-
cushioned
,
and
low
,
a
trifle
shabby
,
as
well
it
might
be
,
for
the
girls
had
slept
and
sprawled
on
it
as
babies
,
fished
over
the
back
,
rode
on
the
arms
,
and
had
menageries
under
it
as
children
,
and
rested
tired
heads
,
dreamed
dreams
,
and
listened
to
tender
talk
on
it
as
young
women
.
They
all
loved
it
,
for
it
was
a
family
refuge
,
and
one
corner
had
always
been
Jo
’
s
favorite
lounging
place
.
Among
the
many
pillows
that
adorned
the
venerable
couch
was
one
,
hard
,
round
,
covered
with
prickly
horsehair
,
and
furnished
with
a
knobby
button
at
each
end
.
This
repulsive
pillow
was
her
especial
property
,
being
used
as
a
weapon
of
defense
,
a
barricade
,
or
a
stern
preventive
of
too
much
slumber
.
Laurie
knew
this
pillow
well
,
and
had
cause
to
regard
it
with
deep
aversion
,
having
been
unmercifully
pummeled
with
it
in
former
days
when
romping
was
allowed
,
and
now
frequently
debarred
by
it
from
the
seat
he
most
coveted
next
to
Jo
in
the
sofa
corner
.
If
‘
the
sausage
’
as
they
called
it
,
stood
on
end
,
it
was
a
sign
that
he
might
approach
and
repose
,
but
if
it
lay
flat
across
the
sofa
,
woe
to
man
,
woman
,
or
child
who
dared
disturb
it
!
That
evening
Jo
forgot
to
barricade
her
corner
,
and
had
not
been
in
her
seat
five
minutes
,
before
a
massive
form
appeared
beside
her
,
and
with
both
arms
spread
over
the
sofa
back
,
both
long
legs
stretched
out
before
him
,
Laurie
exclaimed
,
with
a
sigh
of
satisfaction
.
.
.
"
Now
,
this
is
filling
at
the
price
.
"
"
No
slang
,
"
snapped
Jo
,
slamming
down
the
pillow
.
But
it
was
too
late
,
there
was
no
room
for
it
,
and
coasting
onto
the
floor
,
it
disappeared
in
a
most
mysterious
manner
.
"
Come
,
Jo
,
don
’
t
be
thorny
.
After
studying
himself
to
a
skeleton
all
the
week
,
a
fellow
deserves
petting
and
ought
to
get
it
.
"
"
Beth
will
pet
you
.
I
’
m
busy
.
"
"
No
,
she
’
s
not
to
be
bothered
with
me
,
but
you
like
that
sort
of
thing
,
unless
you
’
ve
suddenly
lost
your
taste
for
it
.
Have
you
?
Do
you
hate
your
boy
,
and
want
to
fire
pillows
at
him
?
"
