Chapter 47 Harvest Time

For a year Jo and her Professor worked and waited, hoped and loved, met occasionally, and wrote such voluminous letters that the rise in the price of paper was accounted for, Laurie said. The second year began rather soberly, for their prospects did not brighten, and Aunt March died suddenly. But when their first sorrow was over--for they loved the old lady in spite of her sharp tongue--they found they had cause for rejoicing, for she had left Plumfield to Jo, which made all sorts of joyful things possible.

"It's a fine old place, and will bring a handsome sum, for of course you intend to sell it," said Laurie, as they were all talking the matter over some weeks later.

"No, I don't," was Jo's decided answer, as she petted the fat poodle, whom she had adopted, out of respect to his former mistress.

"You don't mean to live there?"

"Yes, I do."

"But, my dear girl, it's an immense house, and will take a power of money to keep it in order. The garden and orchard alone need two or three men, and farming isn't in Bhaer's line, I take it."

"He'll try his hand at it there, if I propose it."

"And you expect to live on the produce of the place? Well, that sounds paradisiacal, but you'll find it desperate hard work."

"The crop we are going to raise is a profitable one," and Jo laughed.

"Of what is this fine crop to consist, ma'am?"

"Boys. I want to open a school for little lads--a good, happy, homelike school, with me to take care of them and Fritz to teach them."

"That's a truly Joian plan for you! Isn't that just like her?" cried Laurie, appealing to the family, who looked as much surprised as he.

"I like it," said Mrs. March decidedly.

"So do I," added her husband, who welcomed the thought of a chance for trying the Socratic method of education on modern youth.

"It will be an immense care for Jo," said Meg, stroking the head of her one all-absorbing son.

"Jo can do it, and be happy in it. It's a splendid idea. Tell us all about it," cried Mr. Laurence, who had been longing to lend the lovers a hand, but knew that they would refuse his help.

"I knew you'd stand by me, sir. Amy does too--I see it in her eyes, though she prudently waits to turn it over in her mind before she speaks. Now, my dear people," continued Jo earnestly, "just understand that this isn't a new idea of mine, but a long cherished plan. Before my Fritz came, I used to think how, when I'd made my fortune, and no one needed me at home, I'd hire a big house, and pick up some poor, forlorn little lads who hadn't any mothers, and take care of them, and make life jolly for them before it was too late. I see so many going to ruin for want of help at the right minute, I love so to do anything for them, I seem to feel their wants, and sympathize with their troubles, and oh, I should so like to be a mother to them!"

Mrs. March held out her hand to Jo, who took it, smiling, with tears in her eyes, and went on in the old enthusiastic way, which they had not seen for a long while.

"I told my plan to Fritz once, and he said it was just what he would like, and agreed to try it when we got rich. Bless his dear heart, he's been doing it all his life--helping poor boys, I mean, not getting rich, that he'll never be. Money doesn't stay in his pocket long enough to lay up any. But now, thanks to my good old aunt, who loved me better than I ever deserved, I'm rich, at least I feel so, and we can live at Plumfield perfectly well, if we have a flourishing school. It's just the place for boys, the house is big, and the furniture strong and plain. There's plenty of room for dozens inside, and splendid grounds outside. They could help in the garden and orchard. Such work is healthy, isn't it, sir? Then Fritz could train and teach in his own way, and Father will help him. I can feed and nurse and pet and scold them, and Mother will be my stand-by. I've always longed for lots of boys, and never had enough, now I can fill the house full and revel in the little dears to my heart's content. Think what luxury-- Plumfield my own, and a wilderness of boys to enjoy it with me."

As Jo waved her hands and gave a sigh of rapture, the family went off into a gale of merriment, and Mr. Laurence laughed till they thought he'd have an apoplectic fit.

"I don't see anything funny," she said gravely, when she could be heard. "Nothing could be more natural and proper than for my Professor to open a school, and for me to prefer to reside in my own estate."

"She is putting on airs already," said Laurie, who regarded the idea in the light of a capital joke. "But may I inquire how you intend to support the establishment? If all the pupils are little ragamuffins, I'm afraid your crop won't be profitable in a worldly sense, Mrs. Bhaer."

"Now don't be a wet-blanket, Teddy. Of course I shall have rich pupils, also--perhaps begin with such altogether. Then, when I've got a start, I can take in a ragamuffin or two, just for a relish. Rich people's children often need care and comfort, as well as poor. I've seen unfortunate little creatures left to servants, or backward ones pushed forward, when it's real cruelty. Some are naughty through mismanagment or neglect, and some lose their mothers. Besides, the best have to get through the hobbledehoy age, and that's the very time they need most patience and kindness. People laugh at them, and hustle them about, try to keep them out of sight, and expect them to turn all at once from pretty children into fine young men. They don't complain much--plucky little souls--but they feel it. I've been through something of it, and I know all about it. I've a special interest in such young bears, and like to show them that I see the warm, honest, well-meaning boys' hearts, in spite of the clumsy arms and legs and the topsy-turvy heads. I've had experience, too, for haven't I brought up one boy to be a pride and honor to his family?"

"I'll testify that you tried to do it," said Laurie with a grateful look.

"And I've succeeded beyond my hopes, for here you are, a steady, sensible businessman, doing heaps of good with your money, and laying up the blessings of the poor, instead of dollars. But you are not merely a businessman, you love good and beautiful things, enjoy them yourself, and let others go halves, as you always did in the old times. I am proud of you, Teddy, for you get better every year, and everyone feels it, though you won't let them say so. Yes, and when I have my flock, I'll just point to you, and say 'There's your model, my lads'."

Poor Laurie didn't know where to look, for, man though he was, something of the old bashfulness came over him as this burst of praise made all faces turn approvingly upon him.

"I say, Jo, that's rather too much," he began, just in his old boyish way. "You have all done more for me than I can ever thank you for, except by doing my best not to disappoint you. You have rather cast me off lately, Jo, but I've had the best of help, nevertheless. So, if I've got on at all, you may thank these two for it," and he laid one hand gently on his grandfather's head, and the other on Amy's golden one, for the three were never far apart.

"I do think that families are the most beautiful things in all the world!" burst out Jo, who was in an unusually up-lifted frame of mind just then. "When I have one of my own, I hope it will be as happy as the three I know and love the best. If John and my Fritz were only here, it would be quite a little heaven on earth," she added more quietly. And that night when she went to her room after a blissful evening of family counsels, hopes, and plans, her heart was so full of happiness that she could only calm it by kneeling beside the empty bed always near her own, and thinking tender thoughts of Beth.

It was a very astonishing year altogether, for things seemed to happen in an unusually rapid and delightful manner. Almost before she knew where she was, Jo found herself married and settled at Plumfield. Then a family of six or seven boys sprung up like mushrooms, and flourished surprisingly, poor boys as well as rich, for Mr. Laurence was continually finding some touching case of destitution, and begging the Bhaers to take pity on the child, and he would gladly pay a trifle for its support. In this way, the sly old gentleman got round proud Jo, and furnished her with the style of boy in which she most delighted.

Of course it was uphill work at first, and Jo made queer mistakes, but the wise Professor steered her safely into calmer waters, and the most rampant ragamuffin was conquered in the end. How Jo did enjoy her 'wilderness of boys', and how poor, dear Aunt March would have lamented had she been there to see the sacred precincts of prim, well-ordered Plumfield overrun with Toms, Dicks, and Harrys! There was a sort of poetic justice about it, after all, for the old lady had been the terror of the boys for miles around, and now the exiles feasted freely on forbidden plums, kicked up the gravel with profane boots unreproved, and played cricket in the big field where the irritable 'cow with a crumpled horn' used to invite rash youths to come and be tossed. It became a sort of boys' paradise, and Laurie suggested that it should be called the 'Bhaer-garten', as a compliment to its master and appropriate to its inhabitants.

It never was a fashionable school, and the Professor did not lay up a fortune, but it was just what Jo intended it to be-- 'a happy, homelike place for boys, who needed teaching, care, and kindness'. Every room in the big house was soon full. Every little plot in the garden soon had its owner. A regular menagerie appeared in barn and shed, for pet animals were allowed. And three times a day, Jo smiled at her Fritz from the head of a long table lined on either side with rows of happy young faces, which all turned to her with affectionate eyes, confiding words, and grateful hearts, full of love for 'Mother Bhaer'. She had boys enough now, and did not tire of them, though they were not angels, by any means, and some of them caused both Professor and Professorin much trouble and anxiety. But her faith in the good spot which exists in the heart of the naughtiest, sauciest, most tantalizing little ragamuffin gave her patience, skill, and in time success, for no mortal boy could hold out long with Father Bhaer shining on him as benevolently as the sun, and Mother Bhaer forgiving him seventy times seven. Very precious to Jo was the friendship of the lads, their penitent sniffs and whispers after wrongdoing, their droll or touching little confidences, their pleasant enthusiasms, hopes, and plans, even their misfortunes, for they only endeared them to her all the more. There were slow boys and bashful boys, feeble boys and riotous boys, boys that lisped and boys that stuttered, one or two lame ones, and a merry little quadroon, who could not be taken in elsewhere, but who was welcome to the 'Bhaer-garten', though some people predicted that his admission would ruin the school.

Yes, Jo was a very happy woman there, in spite of hard work, much anxiety, and a perpetual racket. She enjoyed it heartily and found the applause of her boys more satisfying than any praise of the world, for now she told no stories except to her flock of enthusiastic believers and admirers. As the years went on, two little lads of her own came to increase her happiness--Rob, named for Grandpa, and Teddy, a happy-go-lucky baby, who seemed to have inherited his papa's sunshiny temper as well as his mother's lively spirit. How they ever grew up alive in that whirlpool of boys was a mystery to their grandma and aunts, but they flourished like dandelions in spring, and their rough nurses loved and served them well.

There were a great many holidays at Plumfield, and one of the most delightful was the yearly apple-picking. For then the Marches, Laurences, Brookes and Bhaers turned out in full force and made a day of it. Five years after Jo's wedding, one of these fruitful festivals occurred, a mellow October day, when the air was full of an exhilarating freshness which made the spirits rise and the blood dance healthily in the veins. The old orchard wore its holiday attire. Goldenrod and asters fringed the mossy walls. Grasshoppers skipped briskly in the sere grass, and crickets chirped like fairy pipers at a feast. Squirrels were busy with their small harvesting. Birds twittered their adieux from the alders in the lane, and every tree stood ready to send down its shower of red or yellow apples at the first shake. Everybody was there. Everybody laughed and sang, climbed up and tumbled down. Everybody declared that there never had been such a perfect day or such a jolly set to enjoy it, and everyone gave themselves up to the simple pleasures of the hour as freely as if there were no such things as care or sorrow in the world.

Mr. March strolled placidly about, quoting Tusser, Cowley, and Columella to Mr. Laurence, while enjoying . . .

The gentle apple's winey juice.

The Professor charged up and down the green aisles like a stout Teutonic knight, with a pole for a lance, leading on the boys, who made a hook and ladder company of themselves, and performed wonders in the way of ground and lofty tumbling. Laurie devoted himself to the little ones, rode his small daughter in a bushel-basket, took Daisy up among the bird's nests, and kept adventurous Rob from breaking his neck. Mrs. March and Meg sat among the apple piles like a pair of Pomonas, sorting the contributions that kept pouring in, while Amy with a beautiful motherly expression in her face sketched the various groups, and watched over one pale lad, who sat adoring her with his little crutch beside him.

Jo was in her element that day, and rushed about, with her gown pinned up, and her hat anywhere but on her head, and her baby tucked under her arm, ready for any lively adventure which might turn up. Little Teddy bore a charmed life, for nothing ever happened to him, and Jo never felt any anxiety when he was whisked up into a tree by one lad, galloped off on the back of another, or supplied with sour russets by his indulgent papa, who labored under the Germanic delusion that babies could digest anything, from pickled cabbage to buttons, nails, and their own small shoes. She knew that little Ted would turn up again in time, safe and rosy, dirty and serene, and she always received him back with a hearty welcome, for Jo loved her babies tenderly.

At four o'clock a lull took place, and baskets remained empty, while the apple pickers rested and compared rents and bruises. Then Jo and Meg, with a detachment of the bigger boys, set forth the supper on the grass, for an out-of-door tea was always the crowning joy of the day. The land literally flowed with milk and honey on such occasions, for the lads were not required to sit at table, but allowed to partake of refreshment as they liked--freedom being the sauce best beloved by the boyish soul. They availed themselves of the rare privilege to the fullest extent, for some tried the pleasing experiment of drinking milk while standing on their heads, others lent a charm to leapfrog by eating pie in the pauses of the game, cookies were sown broadcast over the field, and apple turnovers roosted in the trees like a new style of bird. The little girls had a private tea party, and Ted roved among the edibles at his own sweet will.

When no one could eat any more, the Professor proposed the first regular toast, which was always drunk at such times--"Aunt March, God bless her!" A toast heartily given by the good man, who never forgot how much he owed her, and quietly drunk by the boys, who had been taught to keep her memory green.

"Now, Grandma's sixtieth birthday! Long life to her, with three times three!"

That was given with a will, as you may well believe, and the cheering once begun, it was hard to stop it. Everybody's health was proposed, from Mr. Laurence, who was considered their special patron, to the astonished guinea pig, who had strayed from its proper sphere in search of its young master. Demi, as the oldest grandchild, then presented the queen of the day with various gifts, so numerous that they were transported to the festive scene in a wheelbarrow. Funny presents, some of them, but what would have been defects to other eyes were ornaments to Grandma's--for the children's gifts were all their own. Every stitch Daisy's patient little fingers had put into the handkerchiefs she hemmed was better than embroidery to Mrs. March. Demi's miracle of mechanical skill, though the cover wouldn't shut, Rob's footstool had a wiggle in its uneven legs that she declared was soothing, and no page of the costly book Amy's child gave her was so fair as that on which appeared in tipsy capitals, the words-- "To dear Grandma, from her little Beth."

During the ceremony the boys had mysteriously disappeared, and when Mrs. March had tried to thank her children, and broken down, while Teddy wiped her eyes on his pinafore, the Professor suddenly began to sing. Then, from above him, voice after voice took up the words, and from tree to tree echoed the music of the unseen choir, as the boys sang with all their hearts the little song that Jo had written, Laurie set to music, and the Professor trained his lads to give with the best effect. This was something altogether new, and it proved a grand success, for Mrs. March couldn't get over her surprise, and insisted on shaking hands with every one of the featherless birds, from tall Franz and Emil to the little quadroon, who had the sweetest voice of all.

After this, the boys dispersed for a final lark, leaving Mrs. March and her daughters under the festival tree.

"I don't think I ever ought to call myself 'unlucky Jo' again, when my greatest wish has been so beautifully gratified," said Mrs. Bhaer, taking Teddy's little fist out of the milk pitcher, in which he was rapturously churning.

"And yet your life is very different from the one you pictured so long ago. Do you remember our castles in the air?" asked Amy, smiling as she watched Laurie and John playing cricket with the boys.

"Dear fellows! It does my heart good to see them forget business and frolic for a day," answered Jo, who now spoke in a maternal way of all mankind. "Yes, I remember, but the life I wanted then seems selfish, lonely, and cold to me now. I haven't given up the hope that I may write a good book yet, but I can wait, and I'm sure it will be all the better for such experiences and illustrations as these," and Jo pointed from the lively lads in the distance to her father, leaning on the Professor's arm, as they walked to and fro in the sunshine, deep in one of the conversations which both enjoyed so much, and then to her mother, sitting enthroned among her daughters, with their children in her lap and at her feet, as if all found help and happiness in the face which never could grow old to them.

"My castle was the most nearly realized of all. I asked for splendid things, to be sure, but in my heart I knew I should be satisfied, if I had a little home, and John, and some dear children like these. I've got them all, thank God, and am the happiest woman in the world," and Meg laid her hand on her tall boy's head, with a face full of tender and devout content.

"My castle is very different from what I planned, but I would not alter it, though, like Jo, I don't relinquish all my artistic hopes, or confine myself to helping others fulfill their dreams of beauty. I've begun to model a figure of baby, and Laurie says it is the best thing I've ever done. I think so, myself, and mean to do it in marble, so that, whatever happens, I may at least keep the image of my little angel."

As Amy spoke, a great tear dropped on the golden hair of the sleeping child in her arms, for her one well-beloved daughter was a frail little creature and the dread of losing her was the shadow over Amy's sunshine. This cross was doing much for both father and mother, for one love and sorrow bound them closely together. Amy's nature was growing sweeter, deeper, and more tender. Laurie was growing more serious, strong, and firm, and both were learning that beauty, youth, good fortune, even love itself, cannot keep care and pain, loss and sorrow, from the most blessed for . . .

Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and sad and dreary.

"She is growing better, I am sure of it, my dear. Don't despond, but hope and keep happy," said Mrs. March, as tenderhearted Daisy stooped from her knee to lay her rosy cheek against her little cousin's pale one.

"I never ought to, while I have you to cheer me up, Marmee, and Laurie to take more than half of every burden," replied Amy warmly. "He never lets me see his anxiety, but is so sweet and patient with me, so devoted to Beth, and such a stay and comfort to me always that I can't love him enough. So, in spite of my one cross, I can say with Meg, 'Thank God, I'm a happy woman.'"

"There's no need for me to say it, for everyone can see that I'm far happier than I deserve," added Jo, glancing from her good husband to her chubby children, tumbling on the grass beside her. "Fritz is getting gray and stout. I'm growing as thin as a shadow, and am thirty. We never shall be rich, and Plumfield may burn up any night, for that incorrigible Tommy Bangs will smoke sweet-fern cigars under the bed-clothes, though he's set himself afire three times already. But in spite of these unromantic facts, I have nothing to complain of, and never was so jolly in my life. Excuse the remark, but living among boys, I can't help using their expressions now and then."

"Yes, Jo, I think your harvest will be a good one," began Mrs. March, frightening away a big black cricket that was staring Teddy out of countenance.

"Not half so good as yours, Mother. Here it is, and we never can thank you enough for the patient sowing and reaping you have done," cried Jo, with the loving impetuosity which she never would outgrow.

"I hope there will be more wheat and fewer tares every year," said Amy softly.

"A large sheaf, but I know there's room in your heart for it, Marmee dear," added Meg's tender voice.

Touched to the heart, Mrs. March could only stretch out her arms, as if to gather children and grandchildren to herself, and say, with face and voice full of motherly love, gratitude, and humility . . .

"Oh, my girls, however long you may live, I never can wish you a greater happiness than this!"

 

有一年光景，乔和教授工作着，等待着，希望着。他们谈情说爱，偶尔相会。他们写了那么多的情书，以致一时洛阳纸贵，劳里如是说。第二年开始冷静些了，因为他们还未见到光明的前景，马奇婶婶也突然过世了。他们最初的悲痛过去后--虽然老太太尖酸刻薄，他们还是爱她的--他们有理由高兴起来，因为她将梅园遗留给了乔，这使得种种欢乐之事成为可能。

“那是个很不错的老庄园，会带来大笔进项的，你肯定会打算卖掉它，”劳里这么说。

“不，我不卖，”乔决然回答。她抚弄着那只肥壮的长卷毛狗。出于对它原先的女主人的尊重，乔领养了它。

“你不是说要住在那儿吧？”

“是的，我要住那儿去。”

“可是，我亲爱的姑娘，那是间非常大的宅子，管理它要很多很多的钱。光是花园和果园就得两三个人照看。我想巴尔对农活也不在行。”“要是我这么提议，他会在那方面努力的。”“你期待靠那里的农产品过活？嗯，听起来其乐无穷，可你会发现农活非常艰苦。”“我们打算种的庄稼是有利可图的。”乔笑了起来。

“什么样的庄稼这么让你心驰神往，夫人？”“男孩子，我想为小孩子们办一个学校一个愉快的、家庭般的好学校。我来照顾他们，弗里茨教他们。”“那可真是乔式计划！这不正是她的风格吗？”劳里听着，向其他家庭成员吁求赞同。他们和他一样吃惊不已。

“我喜欢那个计划，”马奇太太决然说道。

“我也喜欢，”她丈夫补充道。想到有机会对现代青年试行苏格拉底的教育法，他便十分赞同了。

“这对乔是个很大的牵累，”梅格说，一边抚摸儿子的头，儿子正全神贯注地听着。

“乔能这么做的，她会为之幸福，这是个绝妙的主意。把一切都告诉我们吧，“劳伦斯叫道。他一直渴望帮这对情侣的忙，可是他知道他们会拒绝他的帮助。

“我知道你会支持我的，先生。艾美也会的--我从她的眼神看出来了，虽然她小心谨慎，三思而后行。好啦，我亲爱的人们，”乔认真地说道，”你们得理解这不是我一时心血来潮，而是酝酿已久的计划。在弗里茨来之前，我常想着，等我发了财，家里又没人需要我时，我就去租间大房子，收养那些没有母亲照顾的、可怜的小弃儿，让他们的生活及时得到改善。我看到许多弃儿因为得不到适时的帮助而走向堕落。

我非常乐意为他们做些事情。我似乎能感觉到他们的需要，我同情他们的烦恼。哦，我是多么地希望做他们的母亲啊！”马奇太太向乔伸出了手，乔也握住妈妈的手。她热泪盈眶了，脸上却挂着笑。她像以前那样热情洋溢地说起话来。她们已很长时间没有看到她这样热烈的情绪了。

“我曾经将我的计划告诉过弗里茨，他说那正是他想做的，他同意等我富裕了就着手去做。上帝保佑那好心人！他一生都在这么做--我是说，他帮助穷孩子们，自己富不起来，将来也决富不了。钱在他的袋子里搁不长，积蓄不起来，而现在多亏了我那善良的老婶子，我不配得到她这样的爱。我富有了，至少我这样认为。要是我们成功地开办一个学校，我们能在梅园生活得相当不错。那地方正适合男孩子们，宅子很大，家具既结实又简单。有许多屋子可容下十几个孩子，屋外有非常好的场地。孩子们能在花园和果园帮忙：这样的工作有益健康，是不是，先生？而且弗里茨可以用他的方式训练、教育孩子们。爸爸会帮弗里茨的。我可以照顾他们的饮食起居，爱抚他们，管教他们，妈妈会支持我的。我一直盼望能有许多孩子，尽情和这些可爱的小东西们狂欢作乐。想想那是什么样的享受！ -我拥有了梅园，还有一大群孩子和我一起共享田庄！”乔兴奋地手舞足蹈，全家人爆发了一阵欢笑。劳伦斯先生大笑着，使得他们担心他会笑出中风来。

“我看不出有什么好笑的，”笑声停止时，乔神情严肃地说，”我的教授开办学校，而我宁愿住在我自己的田庄，没有什么比这更自然、更适当的了。”“她已经摆出架子了，”劳里说。他把这个想法当成了一个天大的笑话。”我可以请教你打算用什么来维持学校呢？要是所有的学生都是流浪儿，用世俗的观点来看，我恐怕你的庄稼不会有利可图的，巴尔夫人。”“哎呀，特迪，别扫兴，我当然也会收些有钱的学生--也许就像那样开始，然后等到学校开起来了，我就能收下一两个流浪儿，只为增添兴趣。富人的孩子和穷人的孩子一样，也需要照顾和安慰。我见过一些不幸的小东西们，他们被丢给仆人管。还有些迟钝的孩子被逼着上进。这真是残忍。一些孩子因为调教不当或被忽视而变得不规矩，还有些孩子失去了母亲。而且，即使是最好的孩子也要经过少年时期，那一时期最需要人们耐心友善地对待他们。可是，人们嘲笑他们，粗暴地对待他们，尽量地让他们处于视线之外，人们期望着他们突然从小孩子一变而成气质优良的大小伙子。他们极少抱怨 -这些胆大的小东西们- 但是他们有感觉的。

我见识过，完全了解。对这些小莽汉们我特别有兴趣，我想让他们知道，尽管他们笨手笨脚，头脑不清，我看出这些男孩子们心地善良、热情、诚实。我也有过经验，难道我不是教育了一个男孩，使他的家人为之感到自豪、光荣吗？”“我作证你作出过那样的努力，”劳里带着感激的神情说。

“而且，我的成功超出我所预料的，因为，瞧你，一个稳重、精明的商人，用你的钱财做了大量的好事。你不是在积蓄美元，而是在积蓄穷人的祝福。你不仅仅是个商人，你崇尚善美之事，并享有其中的乐趣，你让别人分享你一半的财富，就像过去常做的那样。特迪，我真为你骄傲，你日见长进，虽然你不让大家说，但大家都感到了这一点。是的，等我有了一群孩子，我就会指着你对他们说：'孩子们，那就是你们的榜样。'”可怜的劳里眼睛不知往哪儿看了，因为这一阵赞扬使得所有的脸都转向他，大家赞许地看着他，他又产生了以前那种羞怯。

“我说，乔，那太过分了，”他又以从前那种男孩气语调开了腔，”你是为我做了许多，我无法感激你，只能尽力不让你失望。最近你完全抛弃我了，乔，可我还是得到了最好的帮助，所以，要说我有什么长进，你得感谢这两位。”他一只手轻轻地放在爷爷花白的头上，另一只手放在艾美的金发上，这三个人从来离不开多远。

“我真的认为世界上最美好的事就是家庭！”乔脱口而出。

此时她的精神异常高涨。”我自己成了家后，希望和另外三个家庭一样幸福。我了解也非常喜欢那三个家庭，要是约翰和弗里茨也在这里，那真是地球上的一个小天堂，”她接着说道，声音放低了些。那天晚上，一家人快活地谈论着家庭计划、希望、打算，乔回到自己的房间时，心中溢满了幸福。她跪在一直靠近自己的那张空床边，柔情万端地想着贝思，以此平静自己的心情。

那一年过得令人非常吃惊，事情似乎发生得非同寻常地迅速顺利。乔几乎还没有反应过来是怎么回事，就已经结了婚，在梅园安顿了下来，接着，六七个小男孩如雨后春笋般地冒出来，学校办得火红，令人惊奇。学生们有穷孩子，也有富孩子，因为，劳伦斯先生不断地发现引人怜悯的贫穷人家，恳求巴尔夫妇可怜孩子，而他会高兴地付些钱加以资助。

有心的老先生用这种方式智胜了高傲的乔，为她带来了她心愿所系的那些孩子。

这工作开始时自然费力，乔犯着莫名其妙的错误，然而，教授安全地将她引进平静的水面，最不受管束的流浪儿，最终也被征服了。乔是多么地欣赏她的"男孩荒野"啊！梅园以前干干净净，井然有序，如今，大批的汤姆们、迪克们、哈里们出没于这片神圣的领地。要是那可敬可怜的马奇婶婶看到这一切，她老人家会怎样地悲叹啊！然而，毕竟这事情中还有某种劝善惩恶的成份，因为方园几里路之内的男孩子们都非常害怕老太太，现在小亡命者们无拘无束地大吃着禁果李子，不受责骂地用肮脏的靴子踢着砾石，在大空场地上玩着板球，而以前那儿有着易怒的"有着弯角的牛"，吸引着鲁莽的小家伙们过去，被牛角挑起。如今这里成了这种男孩子的天堂。劳里建议它应叫作"巴尔花院"，这对主人是种赞扬，对居住在这里的人们来说比喻贴切。

学校决不赶时尚，教授也没积蓄其钱财，但是正像乔计划的那样- "对那些需要教导、照料、爱抚的男孩子们，这个地方幸福，像家一样。”很快，大宅子里每间屋子都满了，花园里每一小块地都有了主人，仓库与棚屋里出现了定期的动物展览，因为允许他们养宠物。一天三次，乔坐在长餐桌的一端向她的弗里茨笑着，桌子两边各坐着一排幸福的孩子，他们都很有感情地看着她，他们对"巴尔妈妈”吐露知心话，对她心存感激，充满爱恋。现在，她有足够的男孩子了，她从不厌烦他们，虽然他们决不是天使，有些孩子使教授及夫人大伤脑筋。但是，她相信，即使在最淘气、最莽撞、最让应为花园：巴尔英语发音不标准，劳里是在模仿他的发音。

人烦心的小流浪儿们身上也有优点，这给了她耐心、技巧，最终使她成功。巴尔爸爸像太阳一样亲切地照耀着他们，巴尔妈妈一天要宽恕他们七七四十九次，在这种情况下，只要那男孩是凡人，就不可能顽抗到底。这些孩子们对她的友谊，他们干了坏事后悔罪时鼻子的抽齐声和低声说话声，他们有趣又感人的小秘密话，他们可爱的热情、希望和计划，甚至他们的不幸，这些对乔来说都是非常珍贵的，因为那使她更加喜爱他们。这些男孩子们有的迟钝，有的腼腆；有的虚弱，有的闹人；有的孩子说话口齿不清，有的说话结结巴巴；有一两个孩子跛腿；还有一个快乐的小混血儿，别的地方都不接受他，而"巴尔花院"却欢迎他，尽管有些人预料接受他会毁了这学校。

的确，尽管工作繁忙，焦虑重重，还有永无止境的忙乱，乔在那里是个幸福的妇人。她由衷地欣赏这一切，她感到男孩们对她的称颂要比世间任何赞扬都更令人满意。现在，她只对她一群热情的信徒及敬慕者讲故事。随着岁月的流逝，她自己的两个孩子出世了，为她增添了幸福 -罗布，以爷爷的名字命名；特迪，一个无忧无虑的小家伙，他似乎继承了爸爸快活的脾气、妈妈旺盛的精神。在那一群混乱的男孩堆里，他们怎样能活泼地成长，这始终是奶奶和几个姨的一个谜。然而，他们如同春天的蒲公英茁壮成长。那些粗鲁的保姆们很爱他们，对他们照顾得也很好。

梅园有许许多多节假日，最愉快的节日便是每年一度摘苹果的时候。那时，马奇夫妇、劳伦斯夫妇、布鲁克夫妇，还有巴尔夫妇全体出动，干上一整天。乔结婚五年后，又到了那天，乔如鱼得水。她用针别起了身上的长袍，帽子压根儿没戴在头上。她胳膊下夹着儿子，四处奔着，随时准备应付可能出现的惊险事件。小特迪有刀枪不入的能耐，他没发生过任何事情。乔从来没担心过他，无论是他被一个男孩一下弄上树去，还是另一个男孩驮着他飞跑开去，还是当他那溺爱的爸爸给他吃酸味的冬季粗苹果时，她都不担心。他爸爸带有日耳曼人的幻想，认为孩子们能消化任何东西，从腌菜到钮扣、钉子，还有他们的小鞋。他知道她的小特迪最后总会安然无恙，面色红润，脏兮兮却静悄悄地出现的，她总是热情欢迎他回来，乔百般柔情地爱她的孩子们。

四点时，劳动暂停。篮子空了，摘苹果的人休息了，他们互相比着衣服的撕裂处和身上的擦伤。乔，梅格，还有一支大男孩组成的小分队，在草地上摆着晚餐。这顿户外茶点总是这一天最快乐的时分。在这种场合，不夸张地说，地上流淌着牛奶与蜂蜜，因为，他们不要孩子们坐在桌边吃，而是允许他们随意吃茶点--这种自由是个刺激，男孩子们心中热爱它。他们最大限度地充分利用了这个难得的特权。一些孩子做着有趣的实验，倒立着喝牛奶，另一些孩子做着蛙跳游戏，中间停顿时便吃着馅饼，使游戏更有诱惑力。饼干撒遍了田野，吃了一半的苹果栖息在树上，像是一种新的鸟类。小女孩们私下开着茶会，小特迪在能吃的东西之间随心所欲地徘徊着。

大家都再也吃不下东西了，这时，教授第一次正式提议干杯，在这种时候总是要干杯的"马奇婶婶，上帝保佑她！”那好人由衷地敬酒。他决忘不了他欠老太太太多。男孩子们静静地喝干酒。他们一直受着教诲：脑中常记老太太。

“现在，为奶奶六十岁生日干杯！祝她长寿，三呼万岁！”这是由衷的提议，读者完全可以相信。他们又一次开始欢呼起来，很难止祝他们为每个人的健康都干了杯，从劳伦斯先生到那只吃惊的豚鼠--劳伦斯先生被视为他们特别的恩主，而那只豚鼠离开它适当的属地来寻找它的小主人。然后，德米作为长孙，向当天的女人赠送各种礼品。礼品太多了，只好用独轮手推车运到喜庆场地。一些礼品很好笑，然而，在别人眼里看来有瑕疵的东西，奶奶看着都能用作装饰品 孩子们的礼品都是他们自己制作的。黛西的小手指耐心地为手帕镶了边，那一针一线在马奇太太看来都比刺绣的要好；德米的鞋盒子是机械技艺的奇迹，虽然那盒子盖不上；罗布的脚凳腿扭动着立不稳定，她却说令人舒服；艾美的孩子送给她的书上用大写字母东倒西歪地写着- "赠亲爱的奶奶，她的小贝思。”任何贵重的书都不及这本书好。

在赠礼仪式进行中间，那帮男孩子神秘地消失不见了。马奇太太想感谢她的孙儿孙女们，却感动得不能自持，小特迪用他的围裙为奶奶擦去泪水。教授突然开始唱了起来。于是，从他们头上方，不同的声音接上了歌词，一颗颗树间回荡着看不见的合唱队的歌声。男孩子们诚心诚意地唱着。这支小歌是乔写的词，劳里谱的曲，教授训练孩子们唱的。在这个场合演唱效果极佳。这真是一件新鲜事，结果大获成功，马奇太太遏制不住惊喜，她坚持要和每一只没有父亲的鸟儿握手，从高个儿的弗朗兹和埃米尔到那小混血儿，这些孩子们声音非常甜美动听。

这一切结束后，孩子们四下散开去做最后的嬉戏，马奇太太和女儿们留在节日的树下。

“我想，我不应该再把自己叫做'不幸的乔’了，我最大的愿望已经这样美妙地得到了满足，”巴尔太太说着，一边将小特迪的小拳头拽出了牛奶罐，她正兴高采烈地用手在罐里搅和着呢。”可是，你的生活和你很久以前想象的大不相同，你可记得我们的空中楼阁？”艾美问道。她看着劳里和约翰在和孩子们玩着板球。

“亲爱的人们！看到他们忘掉事务嬉耍一天，真让我高兴，”乔回答。她现在说话带上了人类母亲式的慈爱口气。

“是的，我记得。可是我那时向往的生活现在看来似乎自私、孤寂、清冷。然而，我并没有放弃写本好书的希望，我可以等待，我确信我生活里有了这样的经验和例证，书会写得更好。”乔指着远处蹦蹦跳跳的孩子们，又指指爸爸。爸爸倚着教授的胳膊，两人在阳光里正走来走去，热烈地谈着什么两人都非常感兴趣的话题。乔接着指了指坐在那里的妈妈。女儿们崇敬地围绕着她。她膝上、脚边坐着她的孙儿孙女，好像大家都从她那儿得到了帮助和幸福，她那张脸在他们看来永远不会衰老。

“我的空想几乎都实现了，的确，我那时希求美好的事物，但是，我心中知道，假如我有一个小家，有约翰和一些这样可爱的孩子，我就应该满足了。我得到了这一切，感谢上帝。

我是世上最幸福的女人。”梅格将手放在她的高个子儿子的头上，脸上的表情充满温柔与虔诚的满足。

“我的楼阁和我的计划完全两样。但是，我不会像乔那样更改的。我没放弃我所有的艺术希望，也没把自己局限于帮助别人实现美梦。我已经开始制作一个孩子塑像。劳里说那是我做的最好的一件。我自己也这么认为。我打算用大理石制作。这样不管发生什么事，至少我可以保留我的小天使的形象。”艾美说着，一大滴泪珠落在了睡在她臂弯里的孩子的金发上，她深深爱着的这个女儿，弱不经风，失去她的担心是艾美幸福生活中的阴影，这个不幸对父亲母亲都有很大影响，因为爱情与痛苦把两个人紧密地联结在一起。艾美的性情变得更加甜美、深沉、温柔，劳里变得更加严肃、强舰坚强。

两个人都懂得了，美貌、青春、好运，甚至爱情自身都不能使幸运的人免于焦虑、疼痛、损失与痛苦，因为 -每个人生活中都会有不幸的雨点落下，一些日子会变得黑暗、哀伤、凄凉。

“她身体有起色了呢，我确信这一点，亲爱的，别灰心，要有希望，要保持快乐，”马奇太太说道。心地温和的黛西从奶奶膝上俯过身去，将她红润的脸颊贴在了小表妹苍白的脸颊上。

“我根本就不应灰心，我有你鼓励，妈咪，有劳里承担一大半负担，”艾美热情地说，”他从不让我看出他的焦虑。他对我那么温柔、耐心，对小贝思又是那么尽心。这对我来说总是很大的支持与安慰，我怎么爱他都不过分。所以，尽管我有这个不幸，我还是能像梅格那样说：'感谢上帝，我是个幸福的女人。'”“我没有必要再说了。大家都看得出来，我得到的幸福远远超过了我应享有的，”乔接着说。她扫视她的好丈夫和在她身边草地上翻滚着的胖孩子们。”弗里茨越来越老，越来越胖了，而我像个影子日渐消瘦了。我已经三十岁了，我们根本富不起来！梅园说不上哪天夜里会给烧掉，因为那个不肯改悔的汤米·邦斯非要在被褥下抽香蕨木烟。他已经三次烧着了自己。可是尽管有这些不太浪漫的事情，我也没什么可抱怨的了，我一生中从来没有像这样快活过。请原谅我的措辞。

和那些男孩们生活在一起，我时不时禁不住用他们的表述法。”“是的，乔，我想，你将会有个好收成的，”马奇太太开口说，她吓走了一只大黑蟋蟀。它盯着小特迪看，吓得他脸上变了色。

“收获没你的一半好，妈妈。你看，你耐心地播下种子，然后收获，为此我们怎么也谢不够你，”乔带着她那可爱的急躁叫道。她的急躁年龄再大也改不了。

“我希望，每年多一些麦子，少一些稗子，”艾美轻轻地说。

“一大捆麦子，但是我知道，你心里有地方装下它的，亲爱的妈咪，”梅格语调温柔地补充道。

马奇太太深深地感动了。她只能伸开双臂，仿佛要把她的儿孙们搂抱过来。她的表情和声音里都充满了母亲的慈爱、感谢与谦让- “哦，我的姑娘们，不管你们今后怎样，我想，没有什么比这更能给你们巨大的幸福了！”