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- Луиза Мэй Олкотт
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- Стр. 393/451
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Feeling
that
she
had
not
mended
matters
much
,
Amy
took
the
offered
third
of
a
seat
,
shook
her
hair
over
her
face
,
and
accepted
an
oar
.
She
rowed
as
well
as
she
did
many
other
things
,
and
though
she
used
both
hands
,
and
Laurie
but
one
,
the
oars
kept
time
,
and
the
boat
went
smoothly
through
the
water
.
"
How
well
we
pull
together
,
don
’
t
we
?
"
said
Amy
,
who
objected
to
silence
just
then
.
"
So
well
that
I
wish
we
might
always
pull
in
the
same
boat
.
Will
you
,
Amy
?
"
very
tenderly
.
"
Yes
,
Laurie
,
"
very
low
.
Then
they
both
stopped
rowing
,
and
unconsciously
added
a
pretty
little
tableau
of
human
love
and
happiness
to
the
dissolving
views
reflected
in
the
lake
.
It
was
easy
to
promise
self
-
abnegation
when
self
was
wrapped
up
in
another
,
and
heart
and
soul
were
purified
by
a
sweet
example
.
But
when
the
helpful
voice
was
silent
,
the
daily
lesson
over
,
the
beloved
presence
gone
,
and
nothing
remained
but
loneliness
and
grief
,
then
Jo
found
her
promise
very
hard
to
keep
.
How
could
she
‘
comfort
Father
and
Mother
’
when
her
own
heart
ached
with
a
ceaseless
longing
for
her
sister
,
how
could
she
‘
make
the
house
cheerful
’
when
all
its
light
and
warmth
and
beauty
seemed
to
have
deserted
it
when
Beth
left
the
old
home
for
the
new
,
and
where
in
all
the
world
could
she
‘
find
some
useful
,
happy
work
to
do
’
,
that
would
take
the
place
of
the
loving
service
which
had
been
its
own
reward
?
She
tried
in
a
blind
,
hopeless
way
to
do
her
duty
,
secretly
rebelling
against
it
all
the
while
,
for
it
seemed
unjust
that
her
few
joys
should
be
lessened
,
her
burdens
made
heavier
,
and
life
get
harder
and
harder
as
she
toiled
along
.
Some
people
seemed
to
get
all
sunshine
,
and
some
all
shadow
.
It
was
not
fair
,
for
she
tried
more
than
Amy
to
be
good
,
but
never
got
any
reward
,
only
disappointment
,
trouble
and
hard
work
.
Poor
Jo
,
these
were
dark
days
to
her
,
for
something
like
despair
came
over
her
when
she
thought
of
spending
all
her
life
in
that
quiet
house
,
devoted
to
humdrum
cares
,
a
few
small
pleasures
,
and
the
duty
that
never
seemed
to
grow
any
easier
.
"
I
can
’
t
do
it
.
I
wasn
’
t
meant
for
a
life
like
this
,
and
I
know
I
shall
break
away
and
do
something
desperate
if
somebody
doesn
’
t
come
and
help
me
,
"
she
said
to
herself
,
when
her
first
efforts
failed
and
she
fell
into
the
moody
,
miserable
state
of
mind
which
often
comes
when
strong
wills
have
to
yield
to
the
inevitable
.
But
someone
did
come
and
help
her
,
though
Jo
did
not
recognize
her
good
angels
at
once
because
they
wore
familiar
shapes
and
used
the
simple
spells
best
fitted
to
poor
humanity
.
Often
she
started
up
at
night
,
thinking
Beth
called
her
,
and
when
the
sight
of
the
little
empty
bed
made
her
cry
with
the
bitter
cry
of
unsubmissive
sorrow
,
"
Oh
,
Beth
,
come
back
!
Come
back
!
"
she
did
not
stretch
out
her
yearning
arms
in
vain
.
For
,
as
quick
to
hear
her
sobbing
as
she
had
been
to
hear
her
sister
’
s
faintest
whisper
,
her
mother
came
to
comfort
her
,
not
with
words
only
,
but
the
patient
tenderness
that
soothes
by
a
touch
,
tears
that
were
mute
reminders
of
a
greater
grief
than
Jo
’
s
,
and
broken
whispers
,
more
eloquent
than
prayers
,
because
hopeful
resignation
went
hand
-
in
-
hand
with
natural
sorrow
.
Sacred
moments
,
when
heart
talked
to
heart
in
the
silence
of
the
night
,
turning
affliction
to
a
blessing
,
which
chastened
grief
and
strengthned
love
.
Feeling
this
,
Jo
’
s
burden
seemed
easier
to
bear
,
duty
grew
sweeter
,
and
life
looked
more
endurable
,
seen
from
the
safe
shelter
of
her
mother
’
s
arms
.
When
aching
heart
was
a
little
comforted
,
troubled
mind
likewise
found
help
,
for
one
day
she
went
to
the
study
,
and
leaning
over
the
good
gray
head
lifted
to
welcome
her
with
a
tranquil
smile
,
she
said
very
humbly
,
"
Father
,
talk
to
me
as
you
did
to
Beth
.
I
need
it
more
than
she
did
,
for
I
’
m
all
wrong
.
"
