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Little Women

Louisa May Alcott

This eBook is designed and published by Planet PDF. For more free

eBooks visit our Web site at http://www.planetpdf.com.

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CHAPTER ONE

‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,’

grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.

‘It’s so dreadful to be poor!’ sighed Meg, looking down

at her old dress.

‘I don’t think it’s fair for some girls to have plenty of

pretty things, and other girls nothing at all,’ added little

Amy, with an injured sniff.

‘We’ve got Father and Mother, and each other,’ said

Beth contentedly from her corner.

The four young faces on which the firelight shone

brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as Jo

said sadly, ‘We haven’t got Father, and shall not have him

for a long time.’ She didn’t say ‘perhaps never,’ but each

silently added it, thinking of Father far away, where the

fighting was.

Nobody spoke for a minute; then Meg said in an

altered tone, ‘You know the reason Mother proposed not

having any presents this Christmas was because it is going

to be a hard winter for everyone; and she thinks we ought

not to spend money for pleasure, when our men are

suffering so in the army. We can’t do much, but we can

make our little sacrifices, and ought to do it gladly. But I

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am afraid I don’t.’ And Meg shook her head, as she

thought regretfully of all the pretty things she wanted.

‘But I don’t think the little we should spend would do

any good. We’ve each got a dollar, and the army wouldn’t

be much helped by our giving that. I agree not to expect

anything from Mother or you, but I do want to buy

UNDINE AND SINTRAM for myself. I’ve wanted it so

long,’ said Jo, who was a bookworm.

‘I planned to spend mine in new music,’ said Beth,

with a little sigh, which no one heard but the hearth brush

and kettle holder.

‘I shall get a nice box of Faber’s drawing pencils. I

really need them,’ said Amy decidedly.

‘Mother didn’t say anything about our money, and she

won’t wish us to give up everything. Let’s each buy what

we want, and have a little fun. I’m sure we work hard

enough to earn it,’ cried Jo, examining the heels of her

shoes in a gentlemanly manner.

‘I know I do—teaching those tiresome children nearly

all day, when I’m longing to enjoy myself at home,’ began

Meg, in the complaining tone again.

‘You don’t have half such a hard time as I do,’ said Jo.

‘How would you like to be shut up for hours with a

nervous, fussy old lady, who keeps you trotting, is never

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satisfied, and worries you till you you’re ready to fly out

the window or cry?’

‘It’s naughty to fret, but I do think washing dishes and

keeping things tidy is the worst work in the world. It

makes me cross, and my hands get so stiff, I can’t practice

well at all.’ And Beth looked at her rough hands with a

sigh that any one could hear that time.

‘I don’t believe any of you suffer as I do,’ cried Amy,

‘for you don’t have to go to school with impertinent girls,

who plague you if you don’t know your lessons, and laugh

at your dresses, and label your father if he isn’t rich, and

insult you when your nose isn’t nice.’

‘If you mean libel, I’d say so, and not talk about labels,

as if Papa was a pickle bottle,’ advised Jo, laughing.

‘I know what I mean, and you needn’t be statirical

about it. It’s proper to use good words, and improve your

vocabilary,’ returned Amy, with dignity.

‘Don’t peck at one another, children. Don’t you wish

we had the money Papa lost when we were little, Jo? Dear

me! How happy and good we’d be, if we had no worries!’

said Meg, who could remember better times.

‘You said the other day you thought we were a deal

happier than the King children, for they were fighting and

fretting all the time, in spite of their money.’

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‘So I did, Beth. Well, I think we are. For though we

do have to work, we make fun of ourselves, and are a

pretty jolly set, as Jo would say.’

‘Jo does use such slang words!’ observed Amy, with a

reproving look at the long figure stretched on the rug.

Jo immediately sat up, put her hands in her pockets,

and began to whistle.

‘Don’t, Jo. It’s so boyish!’

‘That’s why I do it.’

‘I detest rude, unladylike girls!’

‘I hate affected, niminy-piminy chits!’

‘Birds in their little nests agree,’ sang Beth, the

peacemaker, with such a funny face that both sharp voices

softened to a laugh, and the ‘pecking’ ended for that time.

‘Really, girls, you are both to be blamed,’ said Meg,

beginning to lecture in her elder-sisterly fashion.’You are

old enough to leave off boyish tricks, and to behave

better, Josephine. It didn’t matter so much when you were

a little girl, but now you are so tall, and turn up your hair,

you should remember that you are a young lady.’

‘I’m not! And if turning up my hair makes me one, I’ll

wear it in two tails till I’m twenty,’ cried Jo, pulling off

her net, and shaking down a chestnut mane. ‘I hate to

think I’ve got to grow up, and be Miss March, and wear

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long gowns, and look as prim as a China Aster! It’s bad

enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boy’s games and

work and manners! I can’t get over my disappointment in

not being a boy. And it’s worse than ever now, for I’m

dying to go and fight with Papa. And I can only stay home

and knit, like a poky old woman!’

And Jo shook the blue army sock till the needles rattled

like castanets, and her ball bounded across the room.

‘Poor Jo! It’s too bad, but it can’t be helped. So you

must try to be contented with making your name boyish,

and playing brother to us girls,’ said Beth, stroking the

rough head with a hand that all the dish washing and

dusting in the world could not make ungentle in its touch.

‘As for you, Amy,’ continued Meg, ‘you are altogether

to particular and prim. Your airs are funny now, but you’ll

grow up an affected little goose, if you don’t take care. I I

like your nice manners and refined ways of speaking,

when you don’t try to be elegant. But your absurd words

are as bad as Jo’s slang.’

‘If Jo is a tomboy and Amy a goose, what am I, please?’

asked Beth, ready to share the lecture.

‘You’re a dear, and nothing else,’ answered Meg

warmly, and no one contradicted her, for the ‘Mouse’ was

the pet of the family.

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As young readers like to know ‘how people look’, we

will take this moment to give them a little sketch of the

four sisters, who sat knitting away in the twilight, while

the December snow fell quietly without, and the fire

crackled cheerfully within. It was a comfortable room,

though the carpet was faded and the furniture very plain,

for a good picture or two hung on the walls, books filled

the recesses, chrysanthemums and Christmas roses

bloomed in the windows, and a pleasant atmosphere of

home peace pervaded it.

Margaret, the eldest of the four, was sixteen, and very

pretty, being plump and fair, with large eyes, plenty of soft

brown hair, a sweet mouth, and white hands, of which she

was rather vain. Fifteen- year-old Jo was very tall, thin,

and brown, and reminded one of a colt, for she never

seemed to know what to do with her long limbs, which

were very much in her way. She had a decided mouth, a

comical nose, and sharp, gray eyes, which appeared to see

everything, and were by turns fierce, funny, or thoughtful.

Her long, thick hair was her one beauty, but it was usually

bundled into a net, to be out of her way. Round shoulders

had Jo, big hands and feet, a flyaway look to her clothes,

and the uncomfortable appearance of a girl who was

rapidly shooting up into a woman and didn’t like it.

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Elizabeth, or Beth, as everyone called her, was a rosy,

smooth- haired, bright-eyed girl of thirteen, with a shy

manner, a timid voice, and a ;peaceful expression which

was seldom disturbed. Her father called her ‘Little Miss

Tranquility’, and the name suited her excellently, for she

seemed to live in a happy world of her own, only

venturing out to meet the few whom she trusted and

loved. Amy, though the youngest, was a most important

person, in her own opinion at least. A regular snow

maiden, with blue eyes, and yellow hair curling on her

shoulders, pale and slender, and always carrying herself like

a young lady mindful of her manners. What the characters

of the four sisters were we will leave to be found out.

The clock struck six and, having swept up the hearth,

Beth put a pair of slippers down to warm. Somehow the

sight of the old shoes had a good effect upon the girls, for

Mother was coming, and everyone brightened to welcome

her. Meg stopped lecturing, and lighted the lamp, Amy

got out of the easy chair without being asked, and Jo

forgot how tired she was as she sat up to hold the slippers

nearer to the blaze.

‘They are quite worn out. Marmee must have a new

pair.’

‘I thought I’d get her some with my dollar,’ said Beth.

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‘No, I shall!’ cried Amy.

‘I’m the oldest,’ began Meg, but Jo cut in with a

decided, ‘I’m the man of the family now Papa is away, and

I shall provide the slippers, for he told me to take special

care of Mother while he was gone.’

‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do,’ said Beth, ‘let’s each get her

something for Christmas, land not get anything for

ourselves.’

‘That’s like you, dear! What will we get?’ exclaimed Jo.

Everyone thought soberly for a minute, then Meg

announced, as if the idea was suggested by the sight of her

own pretty hands, ‘I shall give her a nice pair of gloves.’

‘Army shoes, best to be had,’ cried Jo.

‘Some handkerchiefs, all hemmed,’ said Beth.

‘I’ll get a little bottle of cologne. She likes it, and it

won’t cost much, so I’ll have some left to buy my pencils,’

added Amy.

‘How will we give the things?’ asked Meg.

‘Put them on the table, and bring her in and see her

open the bundles. Don’t you remember how we used to

do on our birthdays?’ answered Jo.

‘I used to be so frightened when it was my turn to sit in

the chair with the crown on, and see you all come

marching round to give the presents, with a kiss. I liked

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the things and the kisses, but it was dreadful to have you

sit looking at me while I opened the bundles,’ said Beth,

who was toasting her face and the bread for tea at the same

time.

‘Let Marmee think we are getting things for ourselves,

and then surprise her. We must go shopping tomorrow

afternoon, Meg. There is so much to do about the play for

Christmas night,’ said Jo, marching up and down, with her

hands behind her back, and her nose in the air.

‘I don’t mean to act any more after this time. I’m

getting too old for such things,’ observed Meg, who was

as much a child as ever about ‘dressing-up’ frolics.

‘You won’t stop, I know, as long as you can trail round

in a white gown with your hair down, and wear gold-

paper jewelry. You are the best actress we’ve got, and

there’ll be an end of everything if you quit the boards,’

said Jo. ‘We ought to rehearse tonight. Come here, Amy,

and do the fainting scene, for you are as stiff as a poker in

that.’

‘I can’t help it. I never saw anyone faint, and I don’t

choose to make myself all black and blue, tumbling flat as

you do. If I can go down easily, I’ll drop. If I can’t, I shall

fall into a chair and be graceful. I don’t care if Hugo does

come at me with a pistol,’ returned Amy, who was not

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LittleWomenLouisaMayAlcottThiseBookisdesignedandpublishedbyPlanetPDF.FormorefreeeBooksvisitourWebsiteathttp://www.planetpdf.com.LittleWomen2of861CHAPTERONE‘Christmaswon’tbeChristmaswithoutanypresents,’grumbledJo,lyingontherug.‘It’ssodreadfultobepoor!’sighedMeg,lookingdownatherolddress.‘Idon’tthinkit...

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