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The
old
lady
wouldn
’
t
speak
to
them
for
a
time
,
but
happening
to
meet
Jo
at
a
friend
’
s
,
something
in
her
comical
face
and
blunt
manners
struck
the
old
lady
’
s
fancy
,
and
she
proposed
to
take
her
for
a
companion
.
This
did
not
suit
Jo
at
all
,
but
she
accepted
the
place
since
nothing
better
appeared
and
,
to
every
one
’
s
surprise
,
got
on
remarkably
well
with
her
irascible
relative
.
There
was
an
occasional
tempest
,
and
once
Jo
marched
home
,
declaring
she
couldn
’
t
bear
it
longer
,
but
Aunt
March
always
cleared
up
quickly
,
and
sent
for
her
to
come
back
again
with
such
urgency
that
she
could
not
refuse
,
for
in
her
heart
she
rather
liked
the
peppery
old
lady
.
I
suspect
that
the
real
attraction
was
a
large
library
of
fine
books
,
which
was
left
to
dust
and
spiders
since
Uncle
March
died
.
Jo
remembered
the
kind
old
gentleman
,
who
used
to
let
her
build
railroads
and
bridges
with
his
big
dictionaries
,
tell
her
stories
about
queer
pictures
in
his
Latin
books
,
and
buy
her
cards
of
gingerbread
whenever
he
met
her
in
the
street
.
The
dim
,
dusty
room
,
with
the
busts
staring
down
from
the
tall
bookcases
,
the
cozy
chairs
,
the
globes
,
and
best
of
all
,
the
wilderness
of
books
in
which
she
could
wander
where
she
liked
,
made
the
library
a
region
of
bliss
to
her
.
The
moment
Aunt
March
took
her
nap
,
or
was
busy
with
company
,
Jo
hurried
to
this
quiet
place
,
and
curling
herself
up
in
the
easy
chair
,
devoured
poetry
,
romance
,
history
,
travels
,
and
pictures
like
a
regular
bookworm
.
But
,
like
all
happiness
,
it
did
not
last
long
,
for
as
sure
as
she
had
just
reached
the
heart
of
the
story
,
the
sweetest
verse
of
a
song
,
or
the
most
perilous
adventure
of
her
traveler
,
a
shrill
voice
called
,
"
Josy
-
phine
!
Josy
-
phine
!
"
and
she
had
to
leave
her
paradise
to
wind
yarn
,
wash
the
poodle
,
or
read
Belsham
’
s
Essays
by
the
hour
together
.
Jo
’
s
ambition
was
to
do
something
very
splendid
.
What
it
was
,
she
had
no
idea
as
yet
,
but
left
it
for
time
to
tell
her
,
and
meanwhile
,
found
her
greatest
affliction
in
the
fact
that
she
couldn
’
t
read
,
run
,
and
ride
as
much
as
she
liked
.
A
quick
temper
,
sharp
tongue
,
and
restless
spirit
were
always
getting
her
into
scrapes
,
and
her
life
was
a
series
of
ups
and
downs
,
which
were
both
comic
and
pathetic
.
But
the
training
she
received
at
Aunt
March
’
s
was
just
what
she
needed
,
and
the
thought
that
she
was
doing
something
to
support
herself
made
her
happy
in
spite
of
the
perpetual
"
Josy
-
phine
!
"
Beth
was
too
bashful
to
go
to
school
.
It
had
been
tried
,
but
she
suffered
so
much
that
it
was
given
up
,
and
she
did
her
lessons
at
home
with
her
father
.
Even
when
he
went
away
,
and
her
mother
was
called
to
devote
her
skill
and
energy
to
Soldiers
’
Aid
Societies
,
Beth
went
faithfully
on
by
herself
and
did
the
best
she
could
.
She
was
a
housewifely
little
creature
,
and
helped
Hannah
keep
home
neat
and
comfortable
for
the
workers
,
never
thinking
of
any
reward
but
to
be
loved
.
Long
,
quiet
days
she
spent
,
not
lonely
nor
idle
,
for
her
little
world
was
peopled
with
imaginary
friends
,
and
she
was
by
nature
a
busy
bee
.
There
were
six
dolls
to
be
taken
up
and
dressed
every
morning
,
for
Beth
was
a
child
still
and
loved
her
pets
as
well
as
ever
.
Not
one
whole
or
handsome
one
among
them
,
all
were
outcasts
till
Beth
took
them
in
,
for
when
her
sisters
outgrew
these
idols
,
they
passed
to
her
because
Amy
would
have
nothing
old
or
ugly
.
Beth
cherished
them
all
the
more
tenderly
for
that
very
reason
,
and
set
up
a
hospital
for
infirm
dolls
.
No
pins
were
ever
stuck
into
their
cotton
vitals
,
no
harsh
words
or
blows
were
ever
given
them
,
no
neglect
ever
saddened
the
heart
of
the
most
repulsive
,
but
all
were
fed
and
clothed
,
nursed
and
caressed
with
an
affection
which
never
failed
.
One
forlorn
fragment
of
dollanity
had
belonged
to
Jo
and
,
having
led
a
tempestuous
life
,
was
left
a
wreck
in
the
rag
bag
,
from
which
dreary
poorhouse
it
was
rescued
by
Beth
and
taken
to
her
refuge
.
Having
no
top
to
its
head
,
she
tied
on
a
neat
little
cap
,
and
as
both
arms
and
legs
were
gone
,
she
hid
these
deficiencies
by
folding
it
in
a
blanket
and
devoting
her
best
bed
to
this
chronic
invalid
.
If
anyone
had
known
the
care
lavished
on
that
dolly
,
I
think
it
would
have
touched
their
hearts
,
even
while
they
laughed
.
She
brought
it
bits
of
bouquets
,
she
read
to
it
,
took
it
out
to
breathe
fresh
air
,
hidden
under
her
coat
,
she
sang
it
lullabies
and
never
went
to
bed
without
kissing
its
dirty
face
and
whispering
tenderly
,
"
I
hope
you
’
ll
have
a
good
night
,
my
poor
dear
.
"
Beth
had
her
troubles
as
well
as
the
others
,
and
not
being
an
angel
but
a
very
human
little
girl
,
she
often
‘
wept
a
little
weep
’
as
Jo
said
,
because
she
couldn
’
t
take
music
lessons
and
have
a
fine
piano
.
She
loved
music
so
dearly
,
tried
so
hard
to
learn
,
and
practiced
away
so
patiently
at
the
jingling
old
instrument
,
that
it
did
seem
as
if
someone
(
not
to
hint
Aunt
March
)
ought
to
help
her
.
Nobody
did
,
however
,
and
nobody
saw
Beth
wipe
the
tears
off
the
yellow
keys
,
that
wouldn
’
t
keep
in
tune
,
when
she
was
all
alone
.
She
sang
like
a
little
lark
about
her
work
,
never
was
too
tired
for
Marmee
and
the
girls
,
and
day
after
day
said
hopefully
to
herself
,
"
I
know
I
’
ll
get
my
music
some
time
,
if
I
’
m
good
.
"
There
are
many
Beths
in
the
world
,
shy
and
quiet
,
sitting
in
corners
till
needed
,
and
living
for
others
so
cheerfully
that
no
one
sees
the
sacrifices
till
the
little
cricket
on
the
hearth
stops
chirping
,
and
the
sweet
,
sunshiny
presence
vanishes
,
leaving
silence
and
shadow
behind
.
