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- Луиза Мэй Олкотт
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There
might
have
been
cause
for
maternal
anxiety
,
if
Demi
had
not
given
convincing
proofs
that
he
was
a
true
boy
,
as
well
as
a
budding
philosopher
,
for
often
,
after
a
discussion
which
caused
Hannah
to
prophesy
,
with
ominous
nods
,
"
That
child
ain
’
t
long
for
this
world
,
"
he
would
turn
about
and
set
her
fears
at
rest
by
some
of
the
pranks
with
which
dear
,
dirty
,
naughty
little
rascals
distract
and
delight
their
parent
’
s
souls
.
Meg
made
many
moral
rules
,
and
tried
to
keep
them
,
but
what
mother
was
ever
proof
against
the
winning
wiles
,
the
ingenious
evasions
,
or
the
tranquil
audacity
of
the
miniature
men
and
women
who
so
early
show
themselves
accomplished
Artful
Dodgers
?
"
No
more
raisins
,
Demi
.
They
’
ll
make
you
sick
,
"
says
Mamma
to
the
young
person
who
offers
his
services
in
the
kitchen
with
unfailing
regularity
on
plum
-
pudding
day
.
"
Me
likes
to
be
sick
.
"
"
I
don
’
t
want
to
have
you
,
so
run
away
and
help
Daisy
make
patty
cakes
.
"
He
reluctantly
departs
,
but
his
wrongs
weigh
upon
his
spirit
,
and
by
-
and
-
by
when
an
opportunity
comes
to
redress
them
,
he
outwits
Mamma
by
a
shrewd
bargain
.
"
Now
you
have
been
good
children
,
and
I
’
ll
play
anything
you
like
,
"
says
Meg
,
as
she
leads
her
assistant
cooks
upstairs
,
when
the
pudding
is
safely
bouncing
in
the
pot
.
"
Truly
,
Marmar
?
"
asks
Demi
,
with
a
brilliant
idea
in
his
well
-
powdered
head
.
"
Yes
,
truly
.
Anything
you
say
,
"
replies
the
shortsighted
parent
,
preparing
herself
to
sing
,
"
The
Three
Little
Kittens
"
half
a
dozen
times
over
,
or
to
take
her
family
to
"
Buy
a
penny
bun
,
"
regardless
of
wind
or
limb
.
But
Demi
corners
her
by
the
cool
reply
.
.
.
