Chapter 1 Ten Years Later
     'If anyone had told me what wonderful changes were to take place herein ten years, I wouldn't have believed it,' said Mrs Jo to Mrs Meg,as they sat on the piazza at Plumfield one summer day, looking aboutthem with faces full of pride and pleasure.
 
　　'This is the sort of magic that money and kind hearts can work. I amsure Mr Laurence could have no nobler monument than the college he sogenerously endowed; and a home like this will keep Aunt March'smemory green as long as it lasts,' answered Mrs Meg, always glad topraise the absent.
 
　　'We used to believe in fairies, you remember, and plan what we'd askfor if we could have three wishes. Doesn't it seem as if mine hadbeen really granted at last? Money, fame, and plenty of the work Ilove,' said Mrs Jo, carelessly rumpling up her hair as she claspedher hands over her head just as she used to do when a girl.
 
　　'I have had mine, and Amy is enjoying hers to her heart's content.
 
　　If dear Marmee, John, and Beth were here, it would be quite perfect,'
 
　　added Meg, with a tender quiver in her voice; for Marmee's place wasempty now.
 
　　Jo put her hand on her sister's, and both sat silent for a littlewhile, surveying the pleasant scene before them with mingled sad andhappy thoughts.
 
　　It certainly did look as if magic had been at work, for quietPlumfield was transformed into a busy little world. The house seemedmore hospitable than ever, refreshed now with new paint, added wings,well-kept lawn and garden, and a prosperous air it had not worn whenriotous boys swarmed everywhere and it was rather difficult for theBhaers to make both ends meet. On the hill, where kites used to beflown, stood the fine college which Mr Laurence's munificent legacyhad built. Busy students were going to and fro along the paths oncetrodden by childish feet, and many young men and women were enjoyingall the advantages that wealth, wisdom, and benevolence could givethem.
 
　　Just inside the gates of Plumfield a pretty brown cottage, very likethe Dovecote, nestled among the trees, and on the green slopewestward Laurie's white-pillared mansion glittered in the sunshine;for when the rapid growth of the city shut in the old house, spoiltMeg's nest, and dared to put a soap-factory under Mr Laurence'sindignant nose, our friends emigrated to Plumfield, and the greatchanges began.
 
　　These were the pleasant ones; and the loss of the dear old people wassweetened by the blessings they left behind; so all prospered now inthe little community, and Mr Bhaer as president, and Mr March aschaplain of the college, saw their long-cherished dream beautifullyrealized. The sisters divided the care of the young people amongthem, each taking the part that suited her best. Meg was the motherlyfriend of the young women, Jo the confidante and defender of all theyouths, and Amy the lady Bountiful who delicately smoothed the wayfor needy students, and entertained them all so cordially that it wasno wonder they named her lovely home Mount Parnassus, so full was itof music, beauty, and the culture hungry young hearts and fancieslong for.
 
　　The original twelve boys had of course scattered far and wide duringthese years, but all that lived still remembered old Plumfield, andcame wandering back from the four quarters of the earth to tell theirvarious experiences, laugh over the pleasures of the past, and facethe duties of the present with fresh courage; for such home-comingskeep hearts tender and hands helpful with the memories of young andhappy days. A few words will tell the history of each, and then wecan go on with the new chapter of their lives.
 
　　Franz was with a merchant kinsman in Hamburg, a man of twenty-sixnow, and doing well. Emil was the jolliest tar that ever 'sailed theocean blue'. His uncle sent him on a long voyage to disgust him withthis adventurous life; but he came home so delighted with it that itwas plain this was his profession, and the German kinsman gave him agood chance in his ships; so the lad was happy. Dan was a wandererstill; for after the geological researches in South America he triedsheep-farming in Australia, and was now in California looking upmines. Nat was busy with music at the Conservatory, preparing for ayear or two in Germany to finish him off. Tom was studying medicineand trying to like it. Jack was in business with his father, bent ongetting rich. Dolly was in college with Stuffy and Ned reading law.
 
　　Poor little Dick was dead, so was Billy; and no one could mourn forthem, since life would never be happy, afflicted as they were in mindand body.
 
　　Rob and Teddy were called the 'Lion and the Lamb'; for the latter wasas rampant as the king of beasts, and the former as gentle as anysheep that ever baaed. Mrs Jo called him 'my daughter', and found himthe most dutiful of children, with plenty of manliness underlying thequiet manners and tender nature. But in Ted she seemed to see all thefaults, whims, aspirations, and fun of her own youth in a new shape.
 
　　With his tawny locks always in wild confusion, his long legs andarms, loud voice, and continual activity, Ted was a prominent figureat Plumfield. He had his moods of gloom, and fell into the Slough ofDespond about once a week, to be hoisted out by patient Rob or hismother, who understood when to let him alone and when to shake himup. He was her pride and joy as well as torment, being a very brightlad for his age, and so full of all sorts of budding talent, that hermaternal mind was much exercised as to what this remarkable boy wouldbecome.
 
　　Demi had gone through College with honour, and Mrs Meg had set herheart on his being a minister--picturing in her fond fancy the firstsermon her dignified young parson would preach, as well as the long,useful, and honoured life he was to lead. But John, as she called himnow, firmly declined the divinity school, saying he had had enough ofbooks, and needed to know more of men and the world, and caused thedear woman much disappointment by deciding to try a journalist'scareer. It was a blow; but she knew that young minds cannot bedriven, and that experience is the best teacher; so she let himfollow his own inclinations, still hoping to see him in the pulpit.
 
　　Aunt Jo raged when she found that there was to be a reporter in thefamily, and called him 'Jenkins' on the spot. She liked his literarytendencies, but had reason to detest official Paul Prys, as we shallsee later. Demi knew his own mind, however, and tranquilly carriedout his plans, unmoved by the tongues of the anxious mammas or thejokes of his mates. Uncle Teddy encouraged him, and painted asplendid career, mentioning Dickens and other celebrities who beganas reporters and ended as famous novelists or newspaper men.
 
　　The girls were all flourishing. Daisy, as sweet and domestic as ever,was her mother's comfort and companion. Josie at fourteen was a mostoriginal young person, full of pranks and peculiarities, the latestof which was a passion for the stage, which caused her quiet motherand sister much anxiety as well as amusement. Bess had grown into atall, beautiful girl looking several years older than she was, withthe same graceful ways and dainty tastes which the little Princesshad, and a rich inheritance of both the father's and mother's gifts,fostered by every aid love and money could give. But the pride of thecommunity was naughty Nan; for, like so many restless, wilfulchildren, she was growing into a woman full of the energy and promisethat suddenly blossoms when the ambitious seeker finds the work sheis fitted to do well. Nan began to study medicine at sixteen, and attwenty was getting on bravely; for now, thanks to other intelligentwomen, colleges and hospitals were open to her. She had never waveredin her purpose from the childish days when she shocked Daisy in theold willow by saying: 'I don't want any family to fuss over. I shallhave an office, with bottles and pestle things in it, and drive roundand cure folks.' The future foretold by the little girl the youngwoman was rapidly bringing to pass, and finding so much happiness init that nothing could win her from the chosen work. Several worthyyoung gentlemen had tried to make her change her mind and choose, asDaisy did, 'a nice little house and family to take care of'. But Nanonly laughed, and routed the lovers by proposing to look at thetongue which spoke of adoration, or professionally felt the pulse inthe manly hand offered for her acceptance. So all departed but onepersistent youth, who was such a devoted Traddles it was impossibleto quench him.
 
　　This was Tom, who was as faithful to his child sweetheart as she toher 'pestle things', and gave a proof of fidelity that touched hervery much. He studied medicine for her sake alone, having no tastefor it, and a decided fancy for a mercantile life. But Nan was firm,and Tom stoutly kept on, devoutly hoping he might not kill many ofhis fellow-beings when he came to practise. They were excellentfriends, however, and caused much amusement to their comrades, by thevicissitudes of this merry love-chase.
 
　　Both were approaching Plumfield on the afternoon when Mrs Meg and MrsJo were talking on the piazza. Not together; for Nan was walkingbriskly along the pleasant road alone, thinking over a case thatinterested her, and Tom was pegging on behind to overtake her, as ifby accident, when the suburbs of the city were past--a little way ofhis, which was part of the joke.
 
　　Nan was a handsome girl, with a fresh colour, clear eye, quick smile,and the self-poised look young women with a purpose always have. Shewas simply and sensibly dressed, walked easily, and seemed full ofvigour, with her broad shoulders well back, arms swinging freely, andthe elasticity of youth and health in every motion. The few peopleshe met turned to look at her, as if it was a pleasant sight to see ahearty, happy girl walking countryward that lovely day; and thered-faced young man steaming along behind, hat off and every tightcurl wagging with impatience, evidently agreed with them.
 
　　Presently a mild 'Hallo!' was borne upon the breeze, and pausing,with an effort to look surprised that was an utter failure, Nan saidaffably:
 
　　'Oh, is that you, Tom?'
 
　　'Looks like it. Thought you might be walking out today'; and Tom'sjovial face beamed with pleasure.
 
　　'You knew it. How is your throat?' asked Nan in her professionaltone, which was always a quencher to undue raptures.
 
　　'Throat? Oh, ah! yes, I remember. It is well. The effect of thatprescription was wonderful. I'll never call homoeopathy a humbugagain.'
 
　　'You were the humbug this time, and so were the unmedicated pellets Igave you. If sugar or milk can cure diphtheria in this remarkablemanner, I'll make a note of it. O Tom, Tom, will you never be doneplaying tricks?'
 
　　'O Nan, Nan, will you never be done getting the better of me?' Andthe merry pair laughed at one another just as they did in the oldtimes, which always came back freshly when they went to Plumfield.
 
　　'Well, I knew I shouldn't see you for a week if I didn't scare upsome excuse for a call at the office. You are so desperately busy allthe time I never get a word,' explained Tom.
 
　　'You ought to be busy too, and above such nonsense. Really, Tom, ifyou don't give your mind to your lectures, you'll never get on,' saidNan soberly.
 
　　'I have quite enough of them as it is,' answered Tom with an air ofdisgust. 'A fellow must lark a bit after dissecting corpuses all day.
 
　　I can't stand it long at a time, though some people seem to enjoy itimmensely.'
 
　　'Then why not leave it, and do what suits you better? I alwaysthought it a foolish thing, you know,' said Nan, with a trace ofanxiety in the keen eyes that searched for signs of illness in a faceas ruddy as a Baldwin apple.
 
　　'You know why I chose it, and why I shall stick to it if it kills me.
 
　　I may not look delicate, but I've a deep-seated heart complaint, andit will carry me off sooner or later; for only one doctor in theworld can cure it, and she won't.'
 
　　There was an air of pensive resignation about Tom that was both comicand pathetic; for he was in earnest, and kept on giving hints of thissort, without the least encouragement.
 
　　Nan frowned; but she was used to it, and knew how to treat him.
 
　　'She is curing it in the best and only way; but a more refractorypatient never lived. Did you go to that ball, as I directed?'
 
　　'I did.'
 
　　'And devote yourself to pretty Miss West?'
 
　　'Danced with her the whole evening.'
 
　　'No impression made on that susceptible organ of yours?'
 
　　'Not the slightest. I gaped in her face once, forgot to feed her, andgave a sigh of relief when I handed her over to her mamma.'
 
　　'Repeat the dose as often as possible, and note the symptoms. Ipredict that you'll "cry for it" by and by.'
 
　　'Never! I'm sure it doesn't suit my constitution.'
 
　　'We shall see. Obey orders!' sternly.
 
　　'Yes, Doctor,' meekly.
 
　　Silence reigned for a moment; then, as if the bone of contention wasforgotten in the pleasant recollections called up by familiarobjects, Nan said suddenly:
 
　　'What fun we used to have in that wood! Do you remember how youtumbled out of the big nut-tree and nearly broke your collar-bones?'
 
　　'Don't I! and how you steeped me in wormwood till I was a finemahogany colour, and Aunt Jo wailed over my spoilt jacket,' laughedTom, a boy again in a minute.
 
　　'And how you set the house afire?'
 
　　'And you ran off for your band-box?'
 
　　'Do you ever say "Thunder-turtles" now?'
 
　　'Do people ever call you "Giddy-gaddy"?'
 
　　'Daisy does. Dear thing, I haven't seen her for a week.'
 
　　'I saw Demi this morning, and he said she was keeping house forMother Bhaer.'
 
　　'She always does when Aunt Jo gets into a vortex. Daisy is a modelhousekeeper; and you couldn't do better than make your bow to her, ifyou can't go to work and wait till you are grown up before you beginlovering.'
 
　　'Nat would break his fiddle over my head if I suggested such a thing.
 
　　No, thank you. Another name is engraved upon my heart as indelibly asthe blue anchor on my arm. "Hope" is my motto, and "No surrender",yours; see who will hold out longest.'
 
　　'You silly boys think we must pair off as we did when children; butwe shall do nothing of the kind. How well Parnassus looks from here!'
 
　　said Nan, abruptly changing the conversation again.
 
　　'It is a fine house; but I love old Plum best. Wouldn't Aunt Marchstare if she could see the changes here?' answered Tom, as they bothpaused at the great gate to look at the pleasant landscape beforethem.
 
　　A sudden whoop startled them, as a long boy with a wild yellow headcame leaping over a hedge like a kangaroo, followed by a slendergirl, who stuck in the hawthorn, and sat there laughing like a witch.
 
　　A pretty little lass she was, with curly dark hair, bright eyes, anda very expressive face. Her hat was at her back, and her skirts agood deal the worse for the brooks she had crossed, the trees she hadclimbed, and the last leap, which added several fine rents.
 
　　'Take me down, Nan, please. Tom, hold Ted; he's got my book, and Iwill have it,' called Josie from her perch, not at all daunted by theappearance of her friends.
 
　　Tom promptly collared the thief, while Nan picked Josie from amongthe thorns and set her on her feet without a word of reproof; forhaving been a romp in her own girlhood, she was very indulgent tolike tastes in others. 'What's the matter, dear?' she asked, pinningup the longest rip, while Josie examined the scratches on her hands.
 
　　'I was studying my part in the willow, and Ted came slyly up andpoked the book out of my hands with his rod. It fell in the brook,and before I could scrabble down he was off. You wretch, give it backthis moment or I'll box your ears,' cried Josie, laughing andscolding in the same breath.
 
　　Escaping from Tom, Ted struck a sentimental attitude, and with tenderglances at the wet, torn young person before him, delivered ClaudeMelnotte's famous speech in a lackadaisical way that was irresistiblyfunny, ending with 'Dost like the picture, love?' as he made anobject of himself by tying his long legs in a knot and distorting hisface horribly.
 
　　The sound of applause from the piazza put a stop to these antics, andthe young folks went up the avenue together very much in the oldstyle when Tom drove four in hand and Nan was the best horse in theteam. Rosy, breathless, and merry, they greeted the ladies and satdown on the steps to rest, Aunt Meg sewing up her daughter's ragswhile Mrs Jo smoothed the Lion's mane, and rescued the book. Daisyappeared in a moment to greet her friend, and all began to talk.
 
　　'Muffins for tea; better stay and eat 'em; Daisy's never fail,' saidTed hospitably.
 
　　'He's a judge; he ate nine last time. That's why he's so fat,' addedJosie, with a withering glance at her cousin, who was as thin as alath.
 
　　'I must go and see Lucy Dove. She has a whitlow, and it's time tolance it. I'll tea at college,' answered Nan, feeling in her pocketto be sure she had not forgotten her case of instruments.
 
　　'Thanks, I'm going there also. Tom Merryweather has granulated lids,and I promised to touch them up for him. Save a doctor's fee and begood practice for me. I'm clumsy with my thumbs,' said Tom, bound tobe near his idol while he could.
 
　　'Hush! Daisy doesn't like to hear you saw-bones talk of your work.
 
　　Muffins suit us better'; and Ted grinned sweetly, with a view tofuture favours in the eating line.
 
　　'Any news of the Commodore?' asked Tom.
 
　　'He is on his way home, and Dan hopes to come soon. I long to see myboys together, and have begged the wanderers to come to Thanksgiving,if not before,' answered Mrs Jo, beaming at the thought.
 
　　'They'll come, every man of them, if they can. Even Jack will risklosing a dollar for the sake of one of our jolly old dinners,'
 
　　laughed Tom.
 
　　'There's the turkey fattening for the feast. I never chase him now,but feed him well; and he's "swellin' wisibly", bless hisdrumsticks!' said Ted, pointing out the doomed fowl proudly paradingin a neighbouring field.
 
　　'If Nat goes the last of the month we shall want a farewell frolicfor him. I suppose the dear old Chirper will come home a second OleBull,' said Nan to her friend.
 
　　A pretty colour came into Daisy's cheek, and the folds of muslin onher breast rose and fell with a quick breath; but she answeredplacidly: 'Uncle Laurie says he has real talent, and after thetraining he will get abroad he can command a good living here, thoughhe may never be famous.'
 
　　'Young people seldom turn out as one predicts, so it is of little useto expect anything,' said Mrs Meg with a sigh. 'If our children aregood and useful men and women, we should be satisfied; yet it's verynatural to wish them to be brilliant and successful.'
 
　　'They are like my chickens, mighty uncertain. Now, that fine-lookingcockerel of mine is the stupidest one of the lot, and the ugly,long-legged chap is the king of the yard, he's so smart; crows loudenough to wake the Seven Sleepers; but the handsome one croaks, andis no end of a coward. I get snubbed; but you wait till I grow up,and then see'; and Ted looked so like his own long-legged pet thateveryone laughed at his modest prediction.
 
　　'I want to see Dan settled somewhere. "A rolling stone gathers nomoss", and at twenty-five he is still roaming about the world withouta tie to hold him, except this'; and Mrs Meg nodded towards hersister.
 
　　'Dan will find his place at last, and experience is his best teacher.
 
　　He is rough still, but each time he comes home I see a change for thebetter, and never lose my faith in him. He may never do anythinggreat, or get rich; but if the wild boy makes an honest man, I'msatisfied,' said Mrs Jo, who always defended the black sheep of herflock.
 
　　'That's right, mother, stand by Dan! He's worth a dozen Jacks andNeds bragging about money and trying to be swells. You see if hedoesn't do something to be proud of and take the wind out of theirsails,' added Ted, whose love for his 'Danny' was now strengthened bya boy's admiration for the bold, adventurous man.
 
　　'Hope so, I'm sure. He's just the fellow to do rash things and cometo glory--climbing the Matterhorn, taking a "header" into Niagara, orfinding a big nugget. That's his way of sowing wild oats, and perhapsit's better than ours,' said Tom thoughtfully; for he had gained agood deal of experience in that sort of agriculture since he became amedical student.
 
　　'Much better!' said Mrs Jo emphatically. 'I'd rather send my boys offto see the world in that way than leave them alone in a city full oftemptations, with nothing to do but waste time, money, and health, asso many are left. Dan has to work his way, and that teaches himcourage, patience, and self-reliance. I don't worry about him as muchas I do about George and Dolly at college, no more fit than twobabies to take care of themselves.'
 
　　'How about John? He's knocking round town as a newspaper man,reporting all sorts of things, from sermons to prize-fights,' askedTom, who thought that sort of life would be much more to his owntaste than medical lectures and hospital wards.
 
　　'Demi has three safeguards--good principles, refined tastes, and awise mother. He won't come to harm, and these experiences will beuseful to him when he begins to write, as I'm sure he will in time,'
 
　　began Mrs Jo in her prophetic tone; for she was anxious to have someof her geese turn out swans.
 
　　'Speak of Jenkins, and you'll hear the rustling of his paper,' criedTom, as a fresh-faced, brown-eyed young man came up the avenue,waving a newspaper over his head.
 
　　'Here's your Evening Tattler! Latest Edition! Awful murder! Bankclerk absconded! Powder-mill explosion, and great strike of the LatinSchool boys!' roared Ted, going to meet his cousin with the gracefulgait of a young giraffe.
 
　　'The Commodore is in, and will cut his cable and run before the windas soon as he can get off,' called Demi, with 'a nice derangement ofnautical epitaphs', as he came up smiling over his good news.
 
　　Everyone talked together for a moment, and the paper passed from handto hand that each eye might rest on the pleasant fact that theBrenda, from Hamburg, was safe in port.
 
　　'He'll come lurching out by tomorrow with his usual collection ofmarine monsters and lively yarns. I saw him, jolly and tarry andbrown as a coffee-berry. Had a good run, and hopes to be second mate,as the other chap is laid up with a broken leg,' added Demi.
 
　　'Wish I had the setting of it,' said Nan to herself, with aprofessional twist of her hand.
 
　　'How's Franz?' asked Mrs Jo.
 
　　'He's going to be married! There's news for you. The first of theflock, Aunty, so say good-bye to him. Her name is Ludmilla HeldegardBlumenthal; good family, well-off, pretty, and of course an angel.
 
　　The dear old boy wants Uncle's consent, and then he will settle downto be a happy and an honest burgher. Long life to him!'
 
　　'I'm glad to hear it. I do so like to settle my boys with a good wifeand a nice little home. Now, if all is right, I shall feel as ifFranz was off my mind,' said Mrs Jo, folding her hands contentedly;for she often felt like a distracted hen with a large brood of mixedchickens and ducks upon her hands.
 
　　'So do I,' sighed Tom, with a sly glance at Nan. 'That's what afellow needs to keep him steady; and it's the duty of nice girls tomarry as soon as possible, isn't it, Demi?'
 
　　'If there are enough nice fellows to go round. The female populationexceeds the male, you know, especially in New England; which accountsfor the high state of culture we are in, perhaps,' answered John, whowas leaning over his mother's chair, telling his day's experiences ina whisper.
 
　　'It is a merciful provision, my dears; for it takes three or fourwomen to get each man into, through, and out of the world. You arecostly creatures, boys; and it is well that mothers, sisters, wives,and daughters love their duty and do it so well, or you would perishoff the face of the earth,' said Mrs Jo solemnly, as she took up abasket filled with dilapidated hose; for the good Professor was stillhard on his socks, and his sons resembled him in that respect.
 
　　'Such being the case, there is plenty for the "superfluous women" todo, in taking care of these helpless men and their families. I seethat more clearly every day, and am very glad and grateful that myprofession will make me a useful, happy, and independent spinster.'
 
　　Nan's emphasis on the last word caused Tom to groan, and the rest tolaugh.
 
　　'I take great pride and solid satisfaction in you, Nan, and hope tosee you very successful; for we do need just such helpful women inthe world. I sometimes feel as if I've missed my vocation and oughtto have remained single; but my duty seemed to point this way, and Idon't regret it,' said Mrs Jo, folding a large and very ragged bluesock to her bosom.
 
　　'Neither do I. What should I ever have done without my dearest Mum?'
 
　　added Ted, with a filial hug which caused both to disappear behindthe newspaper in which he had been mercifully absorbed for a fewminutes.
 
　　'My darling boy, if you would wash your hands semi-occasionally, fondcaresses would be less disastrous to my collar. Never mind, myprecious touslehead, better grass stains and dirt than no cuddlingsat all'; and Mrs Jo emerged from that brief eclipse looking muchrefreshed, though her back hair was caught in Ted's buttons and hercollar under one ear.
 
　　Here Josie, who had been studying her part at the other end of thepiazza, suddenly burst forth with a smothered shriek, and gaveJuliet's speech in the tomb so effectively that the boys applauded,Daisy shivered, and Nan murmured: 'Too much cerebral excitement forone of her age.'
 
　　'I'm afraid you'll have to make up your mind to it, Meg. That childis a born actress. We never did anything so well, not even theWitch's Curse,' said Mrs Jo, casting a bouquet of many-coloured socksat the feet of her flushed and panting niece, when she fellgracefully upon the door-mat.
 
　　'It is a sort of judgement upon me for my passion for the stage whena girl. Now I know how dear Marmee felt when I begged to be anactress. I never can consent, and yet I may be obliged to give up mywishes, hopes, and plans again.'
 
　　There was an accent of reproach in his mother's voice, which madeDemi pick up his sister with a gentle shake, and the stern command to'drop that nonsense in public'.
 
　　'Drop me, Minion, or I'll give you the Maniac Bride, with my bestHa-ha!' cried Josie, glaring at him like an offended kitten. Beingset on her feet, she made a splendid courtesy, and dramaticallyproclaiming, 'Mrs Woffington's carriage waits,' swept down the stepsand round the corner, trailing Daisy's scarlet shawl majesticallybehind her.
 
　　'Isn't she great fun? I couldn't stop in this dull place if I hadn'tthat child to make it lively for me. If ever she turns prim, I'm off;so mind how you nip her in the bud,' said Teddy, frowning at Demi,who was now writing out shorthand notes on the steps.
 
　　'You two are a team, and it takes a strong hand to drive you, but Irather like it. Josie ought to have been my child, and Rob yours,Meg. Then your house would have been all peace and mine all Bedlam.
 
　　Now I must go and tell Laurie the news. Come with me, Meg, a littlestroll will do us good'; and sticking Ted's straw hat on her head,Mrs Jo walked off with her sister, leaving Daisy to attend to themuffins, Ted to appease Josie, and Tom and Nan to give theirrespective patients a very bad quarter of an hour.
Chapter 2 Parnassus
 It was well named; and the Muses seemed to be at home that day, foras the newcomers went up the slope appropriate sights and soundsgreeted them. Passing an open window, they looked in upon a librarypresided over by Clio, Calliope, and Urania; Melpomene and Thaliawere disporting themselves in the hall, where some young people weredancing and rehearsing a play; Erato was walking in the garden withher lover, and in the music-room Phoebus himself was drilling atuneful choir.
 
　　A mature Apollo was our old friend Laurie, but comely and genial asever; for time had ripened the freakish boy into a noble man. Careand sorrow, as well as ease and happiness, had done much for him; andthe responsibility of carrying out his grandfather's wishes had beena duty most faithfully performed. Prosperity suits some people, andthey blossom best in a glow of sunshine; others need the shade, andare the sweeter for a touch of frost. Laurie was one of the formersort, and Amy was another; so life had been a kind of poem to themsince they married--not only harmonious and happy, but earnest,useful, and rich in the beautiful benevolence which can do so muchwhen wealth and wisdom go hand in hand with charity. Their house wasfull of unostentatious beauty and comfort, and here the art-lovinghost and hostess attracted and entertained artists of all kinds.
 
　　Laurie had music enough now, and was a generous patron to the classhe most liked to help. Amy had her proteges among ambitious youngpainters and sculptors, and found her own art double dear as herdaughter grew old enough to share its labours and delights with her;for she was one of those who prove that women can be faithful wivesand mothers without sacrificing the special gift bestowed upon themfor their own development and the good of others.
 
　　Her sisters knew where to find her, and Jo went at once to thestudio, where mother and daughter worked together. Bess was busy withthe bust of a little child, while her mother added the last touchesto a fine head of her husband. Time seemed to have stood still withAmy, for happiness had kept her young and prosperity given her theculture she needed. A stately, graceful woman, who showed how elegantsimplicity could be made by the taste with which she chose her dressand the grace with which she wore it. As someone said: 'I never knowwhat Mrs Laurence has on, but I always receive the impression thatshe is the best-dressed lady in the room.'
 
　　It was evident that she adored her daughter, and well she might; forthe beauty she had longed for seemed, to her fond eyes at least, tobe impersonated in this younger self. Bess inherited her mother'sDiana-like figure, blue eyes, fair skin, and golden hair, tied up inthe same classic knot of curls. Also--ah! never-ending source of joyto Amy--she had her father's handsome nose and mouth, cast in afeminine mould. The severe simplicity of a long linen pinafore suitedher; and she worked away with the entire absorption of the trueartist, unconscious of the loving eyes upon her, till Aunt Jo came inexclaiming eagerly:
 
　　'My dear girls, stop your mud-pies and hear the news!'
 
　　Both artists dropped their tools and greeted the irrepressible womancordially, though genius had been burning splendidly and her comingspoilt a precious hour. They were in the full tide of gossip whenLaurie, who had been summoned by Meg, arrived, and sitting downbetween the sisters, with no barricade anywhere, listened withinterest to the news of Franz and Emil.
 
　　'The epidemic has broke out, and now it will rage and ravage yourflock. Be prepared for every sort of romance and rashness for thenext ten years, Jo. Your boys are growing up and will plunge headlonginto a sea of worse scrapes than any you have had yet,' said Laurie,enjoying her look of mingled delight and despair.
 
　　'I know it, and I hope I shall be able to pull them through and landthem safely; but it's an awful responsibility, for they will come tome and insist that I can make their poor little loves run smoothly. Ilike it, though, and Meg is such a mush of sentiment she revels inthe prospect,' answered Jo, feeling pretty easy about her own boys,whose youth made them safe for the present.
 
　　'I'm afraid she won't revel when our Nat begins to buzz too near herDaisy. Of course you see what all that means? As musical director Iam also his confidante, and would like to know what advice to give,'
 
　　said Laurie soberly. 'Hush! you forget that child,' began Jo, noddingtowards Bess, who was at work again.
 
　　'Bless you! she's in Athens, and doesn't hear a word. She ought toleave off, though, and go out. My darling, put the baby to sleep, andgo for a run. Aunt Meg is in the parlour; go and show her the newpictures till we come,' added Laurie, looking at his tall girl asPygmalion might have looked at Galatea; for he considered her thefinest statue in the house.
 
　　'Yes, papa; but please tell me if it is good'; and Bess obedientlyput down her tools, with a lingering glance at the bust.
 
　　'My cherished daughter, truth compels me to confess that one cheek isplumper than the other; and the curls upon its infant brow are rathertoo much like horns for perfect grace; otherwise it rivals Raphael'sChanting Cherubs, and I'm proud of it.'
 
　　Laurie was laughing as he spoke; for these first attempts were solike Amy's early ones, it was impossible to regard them as soberly asthe enthusiastic mamma did.
 
　　'You can't see beauty in anything but music,' answered Bess, shakingthe golden head that made the one bright spot in the cool northlights of the great studio.
 
　　'Well, I see beauty in you, dear. And if you are not art, what is? Iwish to put a little more nature into you, and get you away from thiscold clay and marble into the sunshine, to dance and laugh as theothers do. I want a flesh-and-blood girl, not a sweet statue in agrey pinafore, who forgets everything but her work.' As he spoke, twodusty hands came round his neck, and Bess said earnestly, punctuatingher words with soft touches of her lips:
 
　　'I never forget you, papa; but I do want to do something beautifulthat you may be proud of me by and by. Mamma often tells me to stop;but when we get in here we forget there is any world outside, we areso busy and so happy. Now I'll go and run and sing, and be a girl toplease you.' And throwing away the apron, Bess vanished from theroom, seeming to take all the light with her.
 
　　'I'm glad you said that. The dear child is too much absorbed in herartistic dreams for one so young. It is my fault; but I sympathize sodeeply in it all, I forget to be wise,' sighed Amy, carefullycovering the baby with a wet towel.
 
　　'I think this power of living in our children is one of the sweetestthings in the world; but I try to remember what Marmee once said toMeg--that fathers should have their share in the education of bothgirls and boys; so I leave Ted to his father all I can, and Fritzlends me Rob, whose quiet ways are as restful and good for me asTed's tempests are for his father. Now I advise you, Amy, to let Bessdrop the mud-pies for a time, and take up music with Laurie; then shewon't be one-sided, and he won't be jealous.'
 
　　'Hear, hear! A Daniel--a very Daniel!' cried Laurie, well pleased. 'Ithought you'd lend a hand, Jo, and say a word for me. I am a littlejealous of Amy, and want more of a share in my girl. Come, my lady,let me have her this summer, and next year, when we go to Rome, I'llgive her up to you and high art. Isn't that a fair bargain?'
 
　　'I agree; but in trying your hobby, nature, with music thrown in,don't forget that, though only fifteen, our Bess is older than mostgirls of that age, and cannot be treated like a child. She is so veryprecious to me, I feel as if I wanted to keep her always as pure andbeautiful as the marble she loves so well.'
 
　　Amy spoke regretfully as she looked about the lovely room where shehad spent so many happy hours with this dear child of hers.
 
　　'"Turn and turn about is fair play", as we used to say when we allwanted to ride on Ellen Tree or wear the russet boots,' said Jobriskly; 'so you must share your girl between you, and see who willdo the most for her.'
 
　　'We will,' answered the fond parents, laughing at the recollectionsJo's proverb brought up to them.
 
　　'How I did use to enjoy bouncing on the limbs of that old apple-tree!
 
　　No real horse ever gave me half the pleasure or the exercise,' saidAmy, looking out of the high window as if she saw the dear oldorchard again and the little girls at play there.
 
　　'And what fun I had with those blessed boots!' laughed Jo. 'I've gotthe relics now. The boys reduced them to rags; but I love them still,and would enjoy a good theatrical stalk in them if it were possible.'
 
　　'My fondest memories twine about the warming-pan and the sausage.
 
　　What larks we had! And how long ago it seems!' said Laurie, staringat the two women before him as if he found it hard to realize thatthey ever had been little Amy and riotous Jo.
 
　　'Don't suggest that we are growing old, my Lord. We have onlybloomed; and a very nice bouquet we make with our buds about us,'
 
　　answered Mrs Amy, shaking out the folds of her rosy muslin with muchthe air of dainty satisfaction the girl used to show in a new dress.
 
　　'Not to mention our thorns and dead leaves,' added Jo, with a sigh;for life had never been very easy to her, and even now she had hertroubles both within and without.
 
　　'Come and have a dish of tea, old dear, and see what the young folksare about. You are tired, and want to be "stayed with flagons andcomforted with apples",' said Laurie, offering an arm to each sister,and leading them away to afternoon tea, which flowed as freely onParnassus as the nectar of old.
 
　　They found Meg in the summer-parlour, an airy and delightful room,full now of afternoon sunshine and the rustle of trees; for the threelong windows opened on the garden. The great music-room was at oneend, and at the other, in a deep alcove hung with purple curtains, alittle household shrine had been made. Three portraits hung there,two marble busts stood in the corners, and a couch, an oval table,with its urn of flowers, were the only articles of furniture the nookcontained. The busts were John Brooke and Beth--Amy's work--bothexcellent likenesses, and both full of the placid beauty which alwaysrecalls the saying, that 'Clay represents life; plaster, death;marble, immortality'. On the right, as became the founder of thehouse, hung the portrait of Mr Laurence, with its expression ofmingled pride and benevolence, as fresh and attractive as when hecaught the girl Jo admiring it. Opposite was Aunt March--a legacy toAmy--in an imposing turban, immense sleeves, and long mittensdecorously crossed on the front of her plum-coloured satin gown. Timehad mellowed the severity of her aspect; and the fixed regard of thehandsome old gentleman opposite seemed to account for the amiablesimper on lips that had not uttered a sharp word for years.
 
　　In the place of honour, with the sunshine warm upon it, and a greengarland always round it, was Marmee's beloved face, painted withgrateful skill by a great artist whom she had befriended when poorand unknown. So beautifully lifelike was it that it seemed to smiledown upon her daughters, saying cheerfully:
 
　　'Be happy; I am with you still.'
 
　　The three sisters stood a moment looking up at the beloved picturewith eyes full of tender reverence and the longing that never leftthem; for this noble mother had been so much to them that no onecould ever fill her place. Only two years since she had gone away tolive and love anew, leaving such a sweet memory behind her that itwas both an inspiration and a comforter to all the household. Theyfelt this as they drew closer to one another, and Laurie put it intowords as he said earnestly:
 
　　'I can ask nothing better for my child than that she may be a womanlike our mother. Please God, she shall be, if I can do it; for I owethe best I have to this dear saint.'
 
　　Just then a fresh voice began to sing 'Ave Maria' in the music-room,and Bess unconsciously echoed her father's prayer for her as shedutifully obeyed his wishes. The soft sound of the air Marmee used tosing led the listeners back into the world again from that momentaryreaching after the loved and lost, and they sat down together nearthe open windows enjoying the music, while Laurie brought them tea,making the little service pleasant by the tender care he gave to it.
 
　　Nat came in with Demi, soon followed by Ted and Josie, the Professorand his faithful Rob, all anxious to hear more about 'the boys'. Therattle of cups and tongues grew brisk, and the setting sun saw acheerful company resting in the bright room after the varied laboursof the day.
 
　　Professor Bhaer was grey now, but robust and genial as ever; for hehad the work he loved, and did it so heartily that the whole collegefelt his beautiful influence. Rob was as much like him as it waspossible for a boy to be, and was already called the 'youngProfessor', he so adored study and closely imitated his honouredfather in all ways.
 
　　'Well, heart's dearest, we go to have our boys again, all two, andmay rejoice greatly,' said Mr Bhaer, seating himself beside Jo with abeaming face and a handshake of congratulation.
 
　　'Oh, Fritz, I'm so delighted about Emil, and if you approve aboutFranz also. Did you know Ludmilla? Is it a wise match?' asked Mrs Jo,handing him her cup of tea and drawing closer, as if she welcomed herrefuge in joy as well as sorrow.
 
　　'It all goes well. I saw the Madchen when I went over to place Franz.
 
　　A child then, but most sweet and charming. Blumenthal is satisfied, Ithink, and the boy will be happy. He is too German to be content awayfrom Vaterland, so we shall have him as a link between the new andthe old, and that pleases me much.'
 
　　'And Emil, he is to be second mate next voyage; isn't that fine? I'mso happy that both your boys have done well; you gave up so much forthem and their mother. You make light of it, dear, but I never forgetit,' said Jo, with her hand in his as sentimentally as if she was agirl again and her Fritz had come a-wooing.
 
　　He laughed his cheery laugh, and whispered behind her fan: 'If I hadnot come to America for the poor lads, I never should have found myJo. The hard times are very sweet now, and I bless Gott for all Iseemed to lose, because I gained the blessing of my life.'
 
　　'Spooning! spooning! Here's an awful flirtation on the sly,' criedTeddy, peering over the fan just at that interesting moment, much tohis mother's confusion and his father's amusement; for the Professornever was ashamed of the fact that he still considered his wife thedearest woman in the world. Rob promptly ejected his brother from onewindow, to see him skip in at the other, while Mrs Jo shut her fanand held it ready to rap her unruly boy's knuckles if he came nearher again.
 
　　Nat approached in answer to Mr Bhaer's beckoning teaspoon, and stoodbefore them with a face full of the respectful affection he felt forthe excellent man who had done so much for him.
 
　　'I have the letters ready for thee, my son. They are two old friendsof mine in Leipzig, who will befriend thee in that new life. It iswell to have them, for thou wilt be heartbroken with Heimweh at thefirst, Nat, and need comforting,' said the Professor, giving himseveral letters.
 
　　'Thanks, sir. Yes, I expect to be pretty lonely till I get started,then my music and the hope of getting on will cheer me up,' answeredNat, who both longed and dreaded to leave all these friends behindhim and make new ones.
 
　　He was a man now; but the blue eyes were as honest as ever, the mouthstill a little weak, in spite of the carefully cherished moustacheover it, and the broad forehead more plainly than ever betrayed themusic-loving nature of the youth. Modest, affectionate, and dutiful,Nat was considered a pleasant though not a brilliant success by MrsJo. She loved and trusted him, and was sure he would do his best, butdid not expect that he would be great in any way, unless the stimulusof foreign training and self-dependence made him a better artist anda stronger man than now seemed likely.
 
　　'I've marked all your things--or rather, Daisy did--and as soon asyour books are collected, we can see about the packing,' said Mrs Jo,who was so used to fitting boys off for all quarters of the globethat a trip to the North Pole would not have been too much for her.
 
　　Nat grew red at mention of that name--or was it the last glow ofsunset on his rather pale cheek?--and his heart beat happily at thethought of the dear girl working Ns and Bs on his humble socks andhandkerchiefs; for Nat adored Daisy, and the cherished dream of hislife was to earn a place for himself as a musician and win this angelfor his wife. This hope did more for him than the Professor'scounsels, Mrs Jo's care, or Mr Laurie's generous help. For her sakehe worked, waited, and hoped, finding courage and patience in thedream of that happy future when Daisy should make a little home forhim and he fiddle a fortune into her lap. Mrs Jo knew this; andthough he was not exactly the man she would have chosen for herniece, she felt that Nat would always need just the wise and lovingcare Daisy could give him, and that without it there was danger ofhis being one of the amiable and aimless men who fail for want of theright pilot to steer them safely through the world. Mrs Meg decidedlyfrowned upon the poor boy's love, and would not hear of giving herdear girl to any but the best man to be found on the face of theearth. She was very kind, but as firm as such gentle souls can be;and Nat fled for comfort to Mrs Jo, who always espoused the interestsof her boys heartily. A new set of anxieties was beginning now thatthe aforesaid boys were growing up, and she foresaw no end of worryas well as amusement in the love-affairs already budding in herflock. Mrs Meg was usually her best ally and adviser, for she lovedromances as well now as when a blooming girl herself. But in thiscase she hardened her heart, and would not hear a word of entreaty.
 
　　'Nat was not man enough, never would be, no one knew his family, amusician's life was a hard one; Daisy was too young, five or sixyears hence when time had proved both perhaps. Let us see whatabsence will do for him.' And that was the end of it, for when thematernal Pelican was roused she could be very firm, though for herprecious children she would have plucked her last feather and giventhe last drop of her blood.
 
　　Mrs Jo was thinking of this as she looked at Nat while he talked withher husband about Leipzig, and she resolved to have a clearunderstanding with him before he went; for she was used toconfidences, and talked freely with her boys about the trials andtemptations that beset all lives in the beginning, and so often marthem, for want of the right word at the right moment.
 
　　This is the first duty of parents, and no false delicacy should keepthem from the watchful care, the gentle warning, which makesself-knowledge and self-control the compass and pilot of the young asthey leave the safe harbour of home.
 
　　'Plato and his disciples approach,' announced irreverent Teddy, as MrMarch came in with several young men and women about him; for thewise old man was universally beloved, and ministered so beautifullyto his flock that many of them thanked him all their lives for thehelp given to both hearts and souls.
 
　　Bess went to him at once; for since Marmee died, Grandpapa was herspecial care, and it was sweet to see the golden head bend over thesilver one as she rolled out his easy-chair and waited on him withtender alacrity.
 
　　'Aesthetic tea always on tap here, sir; will you have a flowing bowlor a bit of ambrosia?' asked Laurie, who was wandering about with asugar-basin in one hand and a plate of cake in the other; forsweetening cups and feeding the hungry was work he loved.
 
　　'Neither, thanks; this child has taken care of me'; and Mr Marchturned to Bess, who sat on one arm of his chair, holding a glass offresh milk.
 
　　'Long may she live to do it, sir, and I be here to see this prettycontradiction of the song that "youth and age cannot live together"!'
 
　　answered Laurie, smiling at the pair. '"Crabbed age", papa; thatmakes all the difference in the world,' said Bess quickly; for sheloved poetry, and read the best.
 
　　'Wouldst thou see fresh roses growIn a reverend bed of snow?'
 
　　quoted Mr March, as Josie came and perched on the other arm, lookinglike a very thorny little rose; for she had been having a hotdiscussion with Ted, and had got the worst of it.
 
　　'Grandpa, must women always obey men and say they are the wisest,just because they are the strongest?' she cried, looking fiercely ather cousin, who came stalking up with a provoking smile on the boyishface that was always very comical atop of that tall figure.
 
　　'Well, my dear, that is the old-fashioned belief, and it will takesome time to change it. But I think the woman's hour has struck; andit looks to me as if the boys must do their best, for the girls areabreast now, and may reach the goal first,' answered Mr March,surveying with paternal satisfaction the bright faces of the youngwomen, who were among the best students in the college.
 
　　'The poor little Atalantas are sadly distracted and delayed by theobstacles thrown in their way--not golden apples, by any means -- butI think they will stand a fair chance when they have learned to runbetter,' laughed Uncle Laurie, stroking Josie's breezy hair, whichstood up like the fur of an angry kitten.
 
　　'Whole barrels of apples won't stop me when I start, and a dozen Tedswon't trip me up, though they may try. I'll show him that a woman canact as well, if not better, than a man. It has been done, and will beagain; and I'll never own that my brain isn't as good as his, thoughit may be smaller,' cried the excited young person.
 
　　'If you shake your head in that violent way you'll addle what brainsyou have got; and I'd take care of 'em, if I were you,' began teasingTed.
 
　　'What started this civil war?' asked Grandpapa, with a gentleemphasis on the adjective, which caused the combatants to calm theirardour a little.
 
　　'Why, we were pegging away at the Iliad and came to where Zeus tellsJuno not to inquire into his plans or he'll whip her, and Jo wasdisgusted because Juno meekly hushed up. I said it was all right, andagreed with the old fellow that women didn't know much and ought toobey men,' explained Ted, to the great amusement of his hearers.
 
　　'Goddesses may do as they like, but those Greek and Trojan women werepoor-spirited things if they minded men who couldn't fight their ownbattles and had to be hustled off by Pallas, and Venus, and Juno,when they were going to get beaten. The idea of two armies stoppingand sitting down while a pair of heroes flung stones at one another!
 
　　I don't think much of your old Homer. Give me Napoleon or Grant formy hero.'
 
　　Josie's scorn was as funny as if a humming-bird scolded at anostrich, and everyone laughed as she sniffed at the immortal poet andcriticized the gods.
 
　　'Napoleon's Juno had a nice time; didn't she? That's just the waygirls argue--first one way and then the other,' jeered Ted.
 
　　'Like Johnson's young lady, who was "not categorical, but allwiggle-waggle",' added Uncle Laurie, enjoying the battle immensely.
 
　　'I was only speaking of them as soldiers. But if you come to thewoman side of it, wasn't Grant a kind husband and Mrs Grant a happywoman? He didn't threaten to whip her if she asked a naturalquestion; and if Napoleon did do wrong about Josephine, he couldfight, and didn't want any Minerva to come fussing over him. Theywere a stupid set, from dandified Paris to Achilles sulking in hisships, and I won't change my opinion for all the Hectors andAgamemnons in Greece,' said Josie, still unconquered.
 
　　'You can fight like a Trojan, that's evident; and we will be the twoobedient armies looking on while you and Ted have it out,' beganUncle Laurie, assuming the attitude of a warrior leaning on hisspear.
 
　　'I fear we must give it up, for Pallas is about to descend and carryoff our Hector,' said Mr March, smiling, as Jo came to remind her sonthat suppertime was near.
 
　　'We will fight it out later when there are no goddesses tointerfere,' said Teddy, as he turned away with unusual alacrity,remembering the treat in store.
 
　　'Conquered by a muffin, by Jove!' called Josie after him, exulting inan opportunity to use the classical exclamation forbidden to her sex.
 
　　But Ted shot a Parthian arrow as he retired in good order byreplying, with a highly virtuous expression:
 
　　'Obedience is a soldier's first duty.'
 
　　Bent on her woman's privilege of having the last word, Josie ranafter him, but never uttered the scathing speech upon her lips, for avery brown young man in a blue suit came leaping up the steps with acheery 'Ahoy! ahoy! where is everybody?'
 
　　'Emil! Emil!' cried Josie, and in a moment Ted was upon him, and thelate enemies ended their fray in a joyful welcome to the newcomer.
 
　　Muffins were forgotten, and towing their cousin like two fussy littletugs with a fine merchantman, the children returned to the parlour,where Emil kissed all the women and shook hands with all the menexcept his uncle; him he embraced in the good old German style, tothe great delight of the observers.
 
　　'Didn't think I could get off today, but found I could, and steeredstraight for old Plum. Not a soul there, so I luffed and bore awayfor Parnassus, and here is every man Jack of you. Bless your hearts,how glad I am to see you all!' exclaimed the sailor boy, beaming atthem, as he stood with his legs apart as if he still felt the rockingdeck under his feet.
 
　　'You ought to "shiver your timbers", not "bless our hearts", Emil;it's not nautical at all. Oh, how nice and shippy and tarry you dosmell!' said Josie, sniffing at him with great enjoyment of the freshsea odours he brought with him. This was her favourite cousin, andshe was his pet; so she knew that the bulging pockets of the bluejacket contained treasures for her at least.
 
　　'Avast, my hearty, and let me take soundings before you dive,'
 
　　laughed Emil, understanding her affectionate caresses, and holdingher off with one hand while with the other he rummaged out sundryforeign little boxes and parcels marked with different names, andhanded them round with appropriate remarks, which caused muchlaughter; for Emil was a wag.
 
　　'There's a hawser that will hold our little cock-boat still aboutfive minutes,' he said, throwing a necklace of pretty pink coral overJosie's head; 'and here's something the mermaids sent to Undine,' headded, handing Bess a string of pearly shells on a silver chain.
 
　　I thought Daisy would like a fiddle, and Nat can find her a beau,'
 
　　continued the sailor, with a laugh, as he undid a dainty filigreebrooch in the shape of a violin.
 
　　'I know she will, and I'll take it to her,' answered Nat, as hevanished, glad of an errand, and sure that he could find Daisy thoughEmil had missed her.
 
　　Emil chuckled, and handed out a quaintly carved bear whose headopened, showing a capacious ink-stand. This he presented, with ascrape, to Aunt Jo.
 
　　'Knowing your fondness for these fine animals, I brought this one toyour pen.'
 
　　'Very good, Commodore! Try again,' said Mrs Jo, much pleased with hergift, which caused the Professor to prophesy 'works of Shakespeare'
 
　　from its depths, so great would be the inspiration of the belovedbruin.
 
　　'As Aunt Meg will wear caps, in spite of her youth, I got Ludmilla toget me some bits of lace. Hope you'll like 'em'; and out of a softpaper came some filmy things, one of which soon lay like a net ofsnowflakes on Mrs Meg's pretty hair.
 
　　'I couldn't find anything swell enough for Aunt Amy, because she haseverything she wants, so I brought a little picture that always makesme think of her when Bess was a baby'; and he handed her an ovalivory locket, on which was painted a goldenhaired Madonna, with arosy child folded in her blue mantle.
 
　　'How lovely!' cried everyone; and Aunt Amy at once hung it about herneck on the blue ribbon from Bess's hair, charmed with her gift; forit recalled the happiest year of her life.
 
　　'Now, I flatter myself I've got just the thing for Nan, neat but notgaudy, a sort of sign you see, and very appropriate for a doctor,'
 
　　said Emil, proudly displaying a pair of lava earrings shaped likelittle skulls.
 
　　'Horrid!' And Bess, who hated ugly things, turned her eyes to her ownpretty shells.
 
　　'She won't wear earrings,' said Josie.
 
　　'Well, she'll enjoy punching your ears then. She's never so happy aswhen she's overhauling her fellow creatures and going for 'em with aknife,' answered Emil, undisturbed. 'I've got a lot of plunder foryou fellows in my chest, but I knew I should have no peace till mycargo for the girls was unloaded. Now tell me all the news.' And,seated on Amy's best marbletopped table, the sailor swung his legsand talked at the rate of ten knots an hour, till Aunt Jo carriedthem all off to a grand family tea in honour of the Commodore.
Chapter 3 Jo's Last Scrape
 The March family had enjoyed a great many surprises in the course oftheir varied career, but the greatest of all was when the UglyDuckling turned out to be, not a swan, but a golden goose, whoseliterary eggs found such an unexpected market that in ten years Jo'swildest and most cherished dream actually came true. How or why ithappened she never clearly understood, but all of a sudden she foundherself famous in a small way, and, better still, with a snug littlefortune in her pocket to clear away the obstacles of the present andassure the future of her boys.
 
　　It began during a bad year when everything went wrong at Plumfield;times were hard, the school dwindled, Jo overworked herself and had along illness; Laurie and Amy were abroad, and the Bhaers too proud toask help even of those as near and dear as this generous pair.
 
　　Confined to her room, Jo got desperate over the state of affairs,till she fell back upon the long-disused pen as the only thing shecould do to help fill up the gaps in the income. A book for girlsbeing wanted by a certain publisher, she hastily scribbled a littlestory describing a few scenes and adventures in the lives of herselfand sisters, though boys were more in her line, and with very slighthopes of success sent it out to seek its fortune.
 
　　Things always went by contraries with Jo. Her first book, labouredover for years, and launched full of the high hopes and ambitiousdreams of youth, foundered on its voyage, though the wreck continuedto float long afterward, to the profit of the publisher at least. Thehastily written story, sent away with no thought beyond the fewdollars it might bring, sailed with a fair wind and a wise pilot atthe helm into public favour, and came home heavily laden with anunexpected cargo of gold and glory.
 
　　A more astonished woman probably never existed than Josephine Bhaerwhen her little ship came into port with flags flying, cannon thathad been silent before now booming gaily, and, better than all, manykind faces rejoicing with her, many friendly hands grasping hers withcordial congratulations. After that it was plain sailing, and shemerely had to load her ships and send them off on prosperous trips,to bring home stores of comfort for all she loved and laboured for.
 
　　The fame she never did quite accept; for it takes very little fire tomake a great deal of smoke nowadays, and notoriety is not real glory.
 
　　The fortune she could not doubt, and gratefully received; though itwas not half so large a one as a generous world reported it to be.
 
　　The tide having turned continued to rise, and floated the familycomfortably into a snug harbour where the older members could restsecure from storms, and whence the younger ones could launch theirboats for the voyage of life.
 
　　All manner of happiness, peace, and plenty came in those years tobless the patient waiters, hopeful workers, and devout believers inthe wisdom and justice of Him who sends disappointment, poverty, andsorrow to try the love of human hearts and make success the sweeterwhen it comes. The world saw the prosperity, and kind souls rejoicedover the improved fortunes of the family; but the success Jo valuedmost, the happiness that nothing could change or take away, few knewmuch about.
 
　　It was the power of making her mother's last years happy and serene;to see the burden of care laid down for ever, the weary hands atrest, the dear face untroubled by any anxiety, and the tender heartfree to pour itself out in the wise charity which was its delight. Asa girl, Jo's favourite plan had been a room where Marmee could sit inpeace and enjoy herself after her hard, heroic life. Now the dreamhad become a happy fact, and Marmee sat in her pleasant chamber withevery comfort and luxury about her, loving daughters to wait on heras infirmities increased, a faithful mate to lean upon, andgrand-children to brighten the twilight of life with their dutifulaffection. A very precious time to all, for she rejoiced as onlymothers can in the good fortunes of their children. She had lived toreap the harvest she sowed; had seen prayers answered, hopes blossom,good gifts bear fruit, peace and prosperity bless the home she hadmade; and then, like some brave, patient angel, whose work was done,turned her face heavenward, glad to rest.
 
　　This was the sweet and sacred side of the change; but it had itsdroll and thorny one, as all things have in this curious world ofours. After the first surprise, incredulity, and joy, which came toJo, with the ingratitude of human nature, she soon tired of renown,and began to resent her loss of liberty. For suddenly the admiringpublic took possession of her and all her affairs, past, present, andto come. Strangers demanded to look at her, question, advise, warn,congratulate, and drive her out of her wits by well-meant but verywearisome attentions. If she declined to open her heart to them, theyreproached her; if she refused to endow her pet charities, relieveprivate wants, or sympathize with every ill and trial known tohumanity, she was called hard-hearted, selfish, and haughty; if shefound it impossible to answer the piles of letters sent her, she wasneglectful of her duty to the admiring public; and if she preferredthe privacy of home to the pedestal upon which she was requested topose, 'the airs of literary people' were freely criticized.
 
　　She did her best for the children, they being the public for whom shewrote, and laboured stoutly to supply the demand always in the mouthsof voracious youth--'More stories; more right away!' Her familyobjected to this devotion at their expense, and her health suffered;but for a time she gratefully offered herself up on the altar ofjuvenile literature, feeling that she owed a good deal to the littlefriends in whose sight she had found favour after twenty years ofeffort.
 
　　But a time came when her patience gave out; and wearying of being alion, she became a bear in nature as in name, and returning to herden, growled awfully when ordered out. Her family enjoyed the fun,and had small sympathy with her trials, but Jo came to consider itthe worse scrape of her life; for liberty had always been her dearestpossession, and it seemed to be fast going from her. Living in alantern soon loses its charm, and she was too old, too tired, and toobusy to like it. She felt that she had done all that could reasonablybe required of her when autographs, photographs, and autobiographicalsketches had been sown broadcast over the land; when artists hadtaken her home in all its aspects, and reporters had taken her in thegrim one she always assumed on these trying occasions; when a seriesof enthusiastic boarding-schools had ravaged her grounds fortrophies, and a steady stream of amiable pilgrims had worn herdoorsteps with their respectful feet; when servants left after aweek's trial of the bell that rang all day; when her husband wasforced to guard her at meals, and the boys to cover her retreat outof back windows on certain occasions when enterprising guests walkedin unannounced at unfortunate moments.
 
　　A sketch of one day may perhaps explain the state of things, offersome excuse for the unhappy woman, and give a hint to theautograph-fiend now rampant in the land; for it is a true tale.
 
　　'There ought to be a law to protect unfortunate authors,' said Mrs Joone morning soon after Emil's arrival, when the mail brought her anunusually large and varied assortment of letters. 'To me it is a morevital subject than international copyright; for time is money, peaceis health, and I lose both with no return but less respect for myfellow creatures and a wild desire to fly into the wilderness, sinceI cannot shut my doors even in free America.'
 
　　'Lion-hunters are awful when in search of their prey. If they couldchange places for a while it would do them good; and they'd see whatbores they were when they "do themselves the honour of calling toexpress their admiration of our charming work",' quoted Ted, with abow to his parent, now frowning over twelve requests for autographs.
 
　　'I have made up my mind on one point,' said Mrs Jo with greatfirmness. 'I will not answer this kind of letter. I've sent at leastsix to this boy, and he probably sells them. This girl writes from aseminary, and if I send her one all the other girls will at oncewrite for more. All begin by saying they know they intrude, and thatI am of course annoyed by these requests; but they venture to askbecause I like boys, or they like the books, or it is only one.
 
　　Emerson and Whittier put these things in the wastepaper-basket; andthough only a literary nursery-maid who provides moral pap for theyoung, I will follow their illustrious example; for I shall have notime to eat or sleep if I try to satisfy these dear unreasonablechildren'; and Mrs Jo swept away the entire batch with a sigh ofrelief.
 
　　'I'll open the others and let you eat your breakfast in peace, liebeMutter,' said Rob, who often acted as her secretary. 'Here's one fromthe South'; and breaking an imposing seal, he read:
 
　　'MADAM, As it has pleased Heaven to bless your effortswith a large fortune, I feel no hesitation in asking youto supply funds to purchase a new communion-service forour church. To whatever denomination you belong, you willof course respond with liberality to such a request,'Respectfully yours,'MRS X.Y. ZAVIER'
 
　　'Send a civil refusal, dear. All I have to give must go to feed andclothe the poor at my gates. That is my thank-offering for success.
 
　　Go on,' answered his mother, with a grateful glance about her happyhome.
 
　　'A literary youth of eighteen proposes that you put your name to anovel he has written; and after the first edition your name is to betaken off and his put on. There's a cool proposal for you. I guessyou won't agree to that, in spite of your soft-heartedness towardsmost of the young scribblers.'
 
　　'Couldn't be done. Tell him so kindly, and don't let him send themanuscript. I have seven on hand now, and barely time to read myown,' said Mrs Jo, pensively fishing a small letter out of theslop-bowl and opening it with care, because the down-hill addresssuggested that a child wrote it.
 
　　'I will answer this myself. A little sick girl wants a book, and sheshall have it, but I can't write sequels to all the rest to pleaseher. I should never come to an end if I tried to suit these voraciouslittle Oliver Twists, clamouring for more. What next, Robin?'
 
　　'This is short and sweet.
 
　　'DEAR MRS BHAER, I am now going to give you my opinion ofyour works. I have read them all many times, and call themfirst-rate. Please go ahead.
 
　　'Your admirer,'BILLY BABCOCK'
 
　　'Now that is what I like. Billy is a man of sense and a critic worthhaving, since he had read my works many times before expressing hisopinion. He asks for no answer, so send my thanks and regards.'
 
　　'Here's a lady in England with seven girls, and she wishes to knowyour views upon education. Also what careers they shall follow theoldest being twelve. Don't wonder she's worried,' laughed Rob.
 
　　'I'll try to answer it. But as I have no girls, my opinion isn'tworth much and will probably shock her, as I shall tell her to letthem run and play and build up good, stout bodies before she talksabout careers. They will soon show what they want, if they are letalone, and not all run in the same mould.'
 
　　'Here's a fellow who wants to know what sort of a girl he shallmarry, and if you know of any like those in your stories.'
 
　　'Give him Nan's address, and see what he'll get,' proposed Ted,privately resolving to do it himself if possible.
 
　　'This is from a lady who wants you to adopt her child and lend hermoney to study art abroad for a few years. Better take it, and tryyour hand at a girl, mother.'
 
　　'No, thank you, I will keep to my own line of business. What is thatblotted one? It looks rather awful, to judge by the ink,' asked MrsJo, who beguiled her daily task by trying to guess from the outsidewhat was inside her many letters. This proved to be a poem from aninsane admirer, to judge by its incoherent style.
 
　　'TO J.M.B.
 
　　'Oh, were I a heliotrope,I would play poet,And blow a breeze of fragranceTo you; and none should know it.
 
　　'Your form like the stately elmWhen Phoebus gilds the morning ray;Your cheeks like the ocean bedThat blooms a rose in May.
 
　　'Your words are wise and bright,I bequeath them to you a legacy given;And when your spirit takes its flight,May it bloom aflower in heaven.
 
　　'My tongue in flattering language spoke,And sweeter silence never brokein busiest street or loneliest glen.
 
　　I take you with the flashes of my pen.
 
　　'Consider the lilies, how they grow;They toil not, yet are fair,Gems and flowers and Solomon's seal.
 
　　The geranium of the world is J. M. Bhaer.
 
　　'JAMES'
 
　　While the boys shouted over this effusion--which is a true one--their mother read several liberal offers from budding magazines forher to edit them gratis; one long letter from a young girlinconsolable because her favourite hero died, and 'would dear MrsBhaer rewrite the tale, and make it end good?' another from an irateboy denied an autograph, who darkly foretold financial ruin and lossof favour if she did not send him and all other fellows who askedautographs, photographs, and auto-biographical sketches; a ministerwished to know her religion; and an undecided maiden asked which ofher two lovers she should marry. These samples will suffice to show afew of the claims made on a busy woman's time, and make my readerspardon Mrs Jo if she did not carefully reply to all.
 
　　'That job is done. Now I will dust a bit, and then go to my work.
 
　　I'm all behind-hand, and serials can't wait; so deny me to everybody,Mary. I won't see Queen Victoria if she comes today.' And Mrs Bhaerthrew down her napkin as if defying all creation.
 
　　'I hope the day will go well with thee, my dearest,' answered herhusband, who had been busy with his own voluminous correspondence. 'Iwill dine at college with Professor Plock, who is to visit us today.
 
　　The Junglings can lunch on Parnassus; so thou shalt have a quiettime.' And smoothing the worried lines out of her forehead with hisgood-bye kiss, the excellent man marched away, both pockets full ofbooks, an old umbrella in one hand, and a bag of stones for thegeology class in the other.
 
　　'If all literary women had such thoughtful angels for husbands, theywould live longer and write more. Perhaps that wouldn't be a blessingto the world though, as most of us write too much now,' said Mrs Jo,waving her feather duster to her spouse, who responded withflourishes of the umbrella as he went down the avenue.
 
　　Rob started for school at the same time, looking so much like himwith his books and bag and square shoulders and steady air that hismother laughed as she turned away, saying heartily: 'Bless both mydear professors, for better creatures never lived!'
 
　　Emil was already gone to his ship in the city; but Ted lingered tosteal the address he wanted, ravage the sugar-bowl, and talk with'Mum'; for the two had great larks together. Mrs Jo always arrangedher own parlour, refilled her vases, and gave the little touches thatleft it cool and neat for the day. Going to draw down the curtain,she beheld an artist sketching on the lawn, and groaned as shehastily retired to the back window to shake her duster.
 
　　At that moment the bell rang and the sound of wheels was heard in theroad.
 
　　'I'll go; Mary lets 'em in'; and Ted smoothed his hair as he made forthe hall.
 
　　'Can't see anyone. Give me a chance to fly upstairs,' whispered MrsJo, preparing to escape. But before she could do so, a man appearedat the door with a card in his hand. Ted met him with a stern air,and his mother dodged behind the window-curtains to bide her time forescape.
 
　　'I am doing a series of articles for the Saturday Tattler, and Icalled to see Mrs Bhaer the first of all,' began the newcomer in theinsinuating tone of his tribe, while his quick eyes were taking inall they could, experience having taught him to make the most of histime, as his visits were usually short ones.
 
　　'Mrs Bhaer never sees reporters, sir.'
 
　　'But a few moments will be all I ask,' said the man, edging his wayfarther in.
 
　　'You can't see her, for she is out,' replied Teddy, as a backwardglance showed him that his unhappy parent had vanished--through thewindow, he supposed, as she sometimes did when hard bestead.
 
　　'Very sorry. I'll call again. Is this her study? Charming room!' Andthe intruder fell back on the parlour, bound to see something and baga fact if he died in the attempt. 'It is not,' said Teddy, gently butfirmly backing him down the hall, devoutly hoping that his mother hadescaped round the corner of the house.
 
　　'If you could tell me Mrs Bhaer's age and birthplace, date ofmarriage, and number of children, I should be much obliged,'
 
　　continued the unabashed visitor as he tripped over the door-mat.
 
　　'She is about sixty, born in Nova Zembla, married just forty yearsago today, and has eleven daughters. Anything else, sir?' And Ted'ssober face was such a funny contrast to his ridiculous reply that thereporter owned himself routed, and retired laughing just as a ladyfollowed by three beaming girls came up the steps.
 
　　'We are all the way from Oshkosh, and couldn't go home without seein'
 
　　dear Aunt Jo. My girls just admire her works, and lot on gettin' asight of her. I know it's early; but we are goin' to see Holmes andLongfeller, and the rest of the celebrities, so we ran out here fustthing. Mrs Erastus Kingsbury Parmalee, of Oshkosh, tell her. We don'tmind waitin'; we can look round a spell if she ain't ready to seefolks yet.'
 
　　All this was uttered with such rapidity that Ted could only standgazing at the buxom damsels, who fixed their six blue eyes upon himso beseechingly that his native gallantry made it impossible to denythem a civil reply at least.
 
　　'Mrs Bhaer is not visible today--out just now, I believe; but you cansee the house and grounds if you like,' he murmured, falling back asthe four pressed in gazing rapturously about them.
 
　　'Oh, thank you! Sweet, pretty place I'm sure! That's where shewrites, ain't it? Do tell me if that's her picture! Looks just as Iimagined her!'
 
　　With these remarks the ladies paused before a fine engraving of theHon. Mrs Norton, with a pen in her hand and a rapt expression ofcountenance, likewise a diadem and pearl necklace.
 
　　Keeping his gravity with an effort, Teddy pointed to a very badportrait of Mrs Jo, which hung behind the door, and afforded her muchamusement, it was so dismal, in spite of a curious effect of lightupon the end of the nose and cheeks as red as the chair she sat in.
 
　　'This was taken for my mother; but it is not very good,' he said,enjoying the struggles of the girls not to look dismayed at the saddifference between the real and the ideal. The youngest, aged twelve,could not conceal her disappointment, and turned away, feeling as somany of us have felt when we discover that our idols are veryordinary men and women.
 
　　'I thought she'd be about sixteen and have her hair braided in twotails down her back. I don't care about seeing her now,' said thehonest child, walking off to the hall door, leaving her mother toapologize, and her sisters to declare that the bad portrait was'perfectly lovely, so speaking and poetic, you know, 'specially aboutthe brow'.
 
　　'Come girls, we must be goin', if we want to get through today. Youcan leave your albums and have them sent when Mrs Bhaer has written asentiment in 'em. We are a thousand times obliged. Give our best loveto your ma, and tell her we are so sorry not to see her.' Just asMrs. Erastus Kingsbury Parmalee uttered the words her eye fell upona middle-aged woman in a large checked apron, with a handkerchieftied over her head, busily dusting an end room which looked like astudy.
 
　　'One peep at her sanctum since she is out,' cried the enthusiasticlady, and swept across the hall with her flock before Teddy couldwarn his mother, whose retreat had been cut off by the artist infront, the reporter at the back of the house--for he hadn't gone andthe ladies in the hall.
 
　　'They've got her!' thought Teddy, in comical dismay. 'No use for herto play housemaid since they've seen the portrait.'
 
　　Mrs Jo did her best, and being a good actress, would have escaped ifthe fatal picture had not betrayed her. Mrs Parmalee paused at thedesk, and regardless of the meerschaum that lay there, the man'sslippers close by, and a pile of letters directed to 'Prof. F.
 
　　Bhaer', she clasped her hands, exclaiming impressively: 'Girls, thisis the spot where she wrote those sweet, those moral tales which havethrilled us to the soul! Could I--ah, could I take one morsel ofpaper, an old pen, a postage stamp even, as a memento of this giftedwoman?'
 
　　'Yes'm, help yourselves,' replied the maid, moving away with a glanceat the boy, whose eyes were now full of merriment he could notsuppress.
 
　　The oldest girl saw it, guessed the truth, and a quick look at thewoman in the apron confirmed her suspicion. Touching her mother, shewhispered: 'Ma, it's Mrs Bhaer herself. I know it is.'
 
　　'No? yes? it is! Well, I do declare, how nice that is!' And hastilypursuing the unhappy woman, who was making for the door, Mrs Parmaleecried eagerly:
 
　　'Don't mind us! I know you're busy, but just let me take your handand then we'll go.'
 
　　Giving herself up for lost, Mrs Jo turned and presented her hand likea tea-tray, submitting to have it heartily shaken, as the matronsaid, with somewhat alarming hospitality:
 
　　'If ever you come to Oshkosh, your feet won't be allowed to touch thepavement; for you'll be borne in the arms of the populace, we shallbe so dreadful glad to see you.'
 
　　Mentally resolving never to visit that effusive town, Jo responded ascordially as she could; and having written her name in the albums,provided each visitor with a memento, and kissed them all round, theyat last departed, to call on 'Longfeller, Holmes, and the rest'--whowere all out, it is devoutly to be hoped.
 
　　'You villain, why didn't you give me a chance to whip away? Oh, mydear, what fibs you told that man! I hope we shall be forgiven oursins in this line, but I don't know what is to become of us if wedon't dodge. So many against one isn't fair play.' And Mrs Jo hung upher apron in the hall closet, with a groan at the trials of her lot.
 
　　'More people coming up the avenue! Better dodge while the coast isclear! I'll head them off!' cried Teddy, looking back from the steps,as he was departing to school.
 
　　Mrs Jo flew upstairs, and having locked her door, calmly viewed ayoung ladies' seminary camp on the lawn, and being denied the house,proceed to enjoy themselves by picking the flowers, doing up theirhair, eating lunch, and freely expressing their opinion of the placeand its possessors before they went.
 
　　A few hours of quiet followed, and she was just settling down to along afternoon of hard work, when Rob came home to tell her that theYoung Men's Christian Union would visit the college, and two or threeof the fellows whom she knew wanted to pay their respects to her onthe way.
 
　　'It is going to rain, so they won't come, I dare say; but fatherthought you'd like to be ready, in case they do call. You always seethe boys, you know, though you harden your heart to the poor girls,'
 
　　said Rob, who had heard from his brother about the morningvisitations.
 
　　'Boys don't gush, so I can stand it. The last time I let in a partyof girls one fell into my arms and said, "Darling, love me!" I wantedto shake her,' answered Mrs Jo, wiping her pen with energy.
 
　　'You may be sure the fellows won't do it, but they will wantautographs, so you'd better be prepared with a few dozen,' said Rob,laying out a quire of notepaper, being a hospitable youth andsympathizing with those who admired his mother.
 
　　'They can't outdo the girls. At X College I really believe I wrotethree hundred during the day I was there, and I left a pile of cardsand albums on my table when I came away. It is one of the most absurdand tiresome manias that ever afflicted the world.'
 
　　Nevertheless Mrs Jo wrote her name a dozen times, put on her blacksilk, and resigned herself to the impending call, praying for rain,however, as she returned to her work.
 
　　The shower came, and feeling quite secure, she rumpled up her hair,took off her cuffs, and hurried to finish her chapter; for thirtypages a day was her task, and she liked to have it well done beforeevening. Josie had brought some flowers for the vases, and was justputting the last touches when she saw several umbrellas bobbing downthe hill.
 
　　'They are coming, Aunty! I see uncle hurrying across the field toreceive them,' she called at the stair-foot.
 
　　'Keep an eye on them, and let me know when they enter the avenue. Itwill take but a minute to tidy up and run down,' answered Mrs Jo,scribbling away for dear life, because serials wait for no man, noteven the whole Christian Union en masse.
 
　　'There are more than two or three. I see half a dozen at least,'
 
　　called sister Ann from the hall door. 'No! a dozen, I do believe;Aunty, look out; they are all coming! What shall we do?' And Josiequailed at the idea of facing the black throng rapidly approaching.
 
　　'Mercy on us, there are hundreds! Run and put a tub in the back entryfor their umbrellas to drip into. Tell them to go down the hall andleave them, and pile their hats on the table; the tree won't holdthem all. No use to get mats; my poor carpets!' And down went Mrs Joto prepare for the invasion, while Josie and the maids flew aboutdismayed at the prospect of so many muddy boots.
 
　　On they came, a long line of umbrellas, with splashed legs andflushed faces underneath; for the gentlemen had been having a goodtime all over the town, undisturbed by the rain. Professor Bhaer metthem at the gate, and was making a little speech of welcome, when MrsJo, touched by their bedraggled state, appeared at the door,beckoning them in. Leaving their host to orate bareheaded in the wet,the young men hastened up the steps, merry, warm, and eager,clutching off their hats as they came, and struggling with theirumbrellas, as the order was passed to march in and stack arms.
 
　　Tramp, tramp, tramp, down the hall went seventy-five pairs of boots;soon seventy-five umbrellas dripped sociably in the hospitable tub,while their owners swarmed all over the lower part of the house; andseventy-five hearty hands were shaken by the hostess without amurmur, though some were wet, some very warm, and nearly all boretrophies of the day's ramble. One impetuous party flourished a smallturtle as he made his compliments; another had a load of sticks cutfrom noted spots; and all begged for some memento of Plumfield. Apile of cards mysteriously appeared on the table, with a writtenrequest for autographs; and despite her morning vow, Mrs Jo wroteeveryone, while her husband and boys did the honours of the house.
 
　　Josie fled to the back parlour, but was discovered by exploringyouths, and mortally insulted by one of them, who innocently inquiredif she was Mrs Bhaer. The reception did not last long, and the endwas better than the beginning; for the rain ceased, and a rainbowshone beautifully over them as the good fellows stood upon the lawnsinging sweetly for a farewell. A happy omen, that bow of promisearched over the young heads, as if Heaven smiled upon their union,and showed them that above the muddy earth and rainy skies theblessed sun still shone for all. Three cheers, and then away theywent, leaving a pleasant recollection of their visit to amuse thefamily as they scraped the mud off the carpets with shovels andemptied the tub half-full of water.
 
　　'Nice, honest, hard-working fellows, and I don't begrudge myhalf-hour at all; but I must finish, so don't let anyone disturb metill tea-time,' said Mrs Jo, leaving Mary to shut up the house; forpapa and the boys had gone off with the guests, and Josie had runhome to tell her mother about the fun at Aunt Jo's.
 
　　Peace reigned for an hour, then the bell rang and Mary came gigglingup to say: 'A queer kind of a lady wants to know if she can catch agrasshopper in the garden.'
 
　　'A what?' cried Mrs Jo, dropping her pen with a blot; for of all theodd requests ever made, this was the oddest.
 
　　'A grasshopper, ma'am. I said you was busy, and asked what shewanted, and says she: "I've got grasshoppers from the grounds ofseveral famous folks, and I want one from Plumfield to add to mycollection." Did you ever?' And Mary giggled again at the idea.
 
　　'Tell her to take all there are and welcome. I shall be glad to getrid of them; always bouncing in my face and getting in my dress,'
 
　　laughed Mrs Jo.
 
　　Mary retired, to return in a moment nearly speechless with merriment.
 
　　'She's much obliged, ma'am, and she'd like an old gown or a pair ofstockings of yours to put in a rug she's making. Got a vest ofEmerson's, she says, and a pair of Mr. Holmes's trousers, and a dressof Mrs Stowe's. She must be crazy!'
 
　　'Give her that old red shawl, then I shall make a gay show among thegreat ones in that astonishing rug. Yes, they are all lunatics, theselion-hunters; but this seems to be a harmless maniac, for she doesn'ttake my time, and gives me a good laugh,' said Mrs Jo, returning toher work after a glance from the window, which showed her a tall,thin lady in rusty black, skipping wildly to and fro on the lawn inpursuit of the lively insect she wanted.
 
　　No more interruptions till the light began to fade, then Mary poppedher head in to say a gentleman wished to see Mrs Bhaer, and wouldn'ttake no for an answer.
 
　　'He must. I shall not go down. This has been an awful day, and Iwon't be disturbed again,' replied the harassed authoress, pausing inthe midst of the grand finale of her chapter.
 
　　'I told him so, ma'am; but he walked right in as bold as brass. Iguess he's another crazy one, and I declare I'm 'most afraid of him,he's so big and black, and cool as cucumbers, though I will say he'sgood-looking,' added Mary, with a simper; for the stranger hadevidently found favour in her sight despite his boldness.
 
　　'My day has been ruined, and I will have this last half-hour tofinish. Tell him to go away; I won't go down,' cried Mrs Jo,fiercely.
 
　　Mary went; and listening, in spite of herself, her mistress heardfirst a murmur of voices, then a cry from Mary, and remembering theways of reporters, also that her maid was both pretty and timid, MrsBhaer flung down her pen and went to the rescue. Descending with hermost majestic air she demanded in an awe-inspiring voice, as shepaused to survey the somewhat brigandish intruder, who seemed to bestorming the staircase which Mary was gallantly defending:
 
　　'Who is this person who insists on remaining when I have declined tosee him?'
 
　　'I'm sure I don't know, ma'am. He won't give no name, and says you'llbe sorry if you don't see him,' answered Mary, retiring flushed andindignant from her post.
 
　　'Won't you be sorry?' asked the stranger, looking up with a pair ofblack eyes full of laughter, the flash of white teeth through a longbeard, and both hands out as he boldly approached the irate lady.
 
　　Mrs Jo gave one keen look, for the voice was familiar; then completedMary's bewilderment by throwing both arms round the brigand's neck,exclaiming joyfully: 'My dearest boy, where did you come from?'
 
　　'California, on purpose to see you, Mother Bhaer. Now won't you besorry if I go away?' answered Dan, with a hearty kiss.
 
　　'To think of my ordering you out of the house when I've been longingto see you for a year,' laughed Mrs Jo, and she went down to have agood talk with her returned wanderer, who enjoyed the joke immensely.
Chapter 4 Dan
 Mrs Jo often thought that Dan had Indian blood in him, not onlybecause of his love of a wild, wandering life, but his appearance;for as he grew up, this became more striking. At twenty-five he wasvery tall, with sinewy limbs, a keen, dark face, and the alert lookof one whose senses were all alive; rough in manner, full of energy,quick with word and blow, eyes full of the old fire, always watchfulas if used to keep guard, and a general air of vigour and freshnessvery charming to those who knew the dangers and delights of hisadventurous life. He was looking his best as he sat talking with'Mother Bhaer', one strong brown hand in hers, and a world ofaffection in his voice as he said:
 
　　'Forget old friends! How could I forget the only home I ever knew?
 
　　Why, I was in such a hurry to come and tell my good luck that Ididn't stop to fix up, you see; though I knew you'd think I lookedmore like a wild buffalo than ever,' with a shake of his shaggy blackhead, a tug at his beard, and a laugh that made the room ring.
 
　　'I like it; I always had a fancy for banditti--and you look just likeone. Mary, being a newcomer, was frightened at your looks andmanners. Josie won't know you, but Ted will recognize his Danny inspite of the big beard and flowing mane. They will all be here soonto welcome you; so before they come tell me more about yourself. Why,Dan, dear! it's nearly two years since you were here! Has it gonewell with you?' asked Mrs Jo, who had been listening with maternalinterest to his account of life in California, and the unexpectedsuccess of a small investment he had made.
 
　　'First-rate! I don't care for the money, you know. I only want atrifle to pay my way--rather earn as I go, and not be bothered withthe care of a lot. It's the fun of the thing coming to me, and mybeing able to give away, that I like. No use to lay up; I shan't liveto be old and need it,--my sort never do,' said Dan, looking as ifhis little fortune rather oppressed him.
 
　　'But if you marry and settle somewhere, as I hope you will, you musthave something to begin with, my son. So be prudent and invest yourmoney; don't give it away, for rainy days come to all of us, anddependence would be very hard for you to bear,' answered Mrs Jo witha sage air, though she liked to see that the money-making fever hadnot seized her lucky boy yet.
 
　　Dan shook his head, and glanced about the room as if he already foundit rather confined and longed for all out-of-doors again.
 
　　'Who would marry a jack-o'-lantern like me? Women like a steady-goingman; I shall never be that.'
 
　　'My dear boy, when I was a girl I liked just such adventurous fellowsas you are. Anything fresh and daring, free and romantic, is alwaysattractive to us womenfolk. Don't be discouraged; you'll find ananchor some day, and be content to take shorter voyages and bringhome a good cargo.'
 
　　'What should you say if I brought you an Indian squaw some day?'
 
　　asked Dan, with a glimmer of mischief in the eyes that rested on amarble bust of Galatea gleaming white and lovely in the corner.
 
　　'Welcome her heartily, if she was a good one. Is there a prospect ofit?' and Mrs Jo peered at him with the interest which even literaryladies take in love affairs.
 
　　'Not at present, thank you. I'm too busy "to gallivant", as Ted callsit. How is the boy?' asked Dan, skilfully turning the conversation,as if he had had enough of sentiment.
 
　　Mrs Jo was off at once, and expatiated upon the talents and virtuesof her sons till they came bursting in and fell upon Dan like twoaffectionate young bears, finding a vent for their joyful emotions ina sort of friendly wrestling-match; in which both got worsted, ofcourse, for the hunter soon settled them. The Professor followed, andtongues went like mill-clappers while Mary lighted up and cookdevoted herself to an unusually good supper, instinctively diviningthat this guest was a welcome one.
 
　　After tea Dan was walking up and down the long rooms as he talked,with occasional trips into the hall for a fresher breath of air, hislungs seeming to need more than those of civilized people. In one ofthese trips he saw a white figure framed in the dark doorway, andpaused to look at it. Bess paused also, not recognizing her oldfriend, and quite unconscious of the pretty picture she madestanding, tall and slender, against the soft gloom of the summernight, with her golden hair like a halo round her head, and the endsof a white shawl blown out like wings by the cool wind sweepingthrough the hail. 'Is it Dan?' she asked, coming in with a gracioussmile and outstretched hand.
 
　　'Looks like it; but I didn't know you, Princess. I thought it was aspirit,' answered Dan, looking down at her with a curious softnessand wonder in his face.
 
　　'I've grown very much, but two years have changed you entirely'; andBess looked up with girlish pleasure at the picturesque figure beforeher--for it was a decided contrast to the well-dressed people abouther.
 
　　Before they could say more, Josie rushed in, and, forgetfull of thenewly acquired dignity of her teens, let Dan catch her up and kissher like a child. Not till he set her down did he discover she alsowas changed, and exclaimed in comic dismay:
 
　　'Hallo! Why, you are growing up too! What am I going to do, with noyoung one to play with? Here's Ted going it like a beanstalk, andBess a young lady, and even you, my mustard-seed, letting down yourfrocks and putting on airs.'
 
　　The girls laughed, and Josie blushed as she stared at the tall man,conscious that she had leaped before she looked. They made a prettycontrast, these two young cousins--one as fair as a lily, the other alittle wild rose. And Dan gave a nod of satisfaction as he surveyedthem; for he had seen many bonny girls in his travels, and was gladthat these old friends were blooming so beautifully.
 
　　'Here! we can't allow any monopoly of Dan!' called Mrs Jo. 'Bring himback and keep an eye on him, or he will be slipping off for anotherlittle run of a year or two before we have half seen him.'
 
　　Led by these agreeable captors, Dan returned to the parlour toreceive a scolding from Josie for getting ahead of all the other boysand looking like a man first.
 
　　'Emil is older; but he's only a boy, and dances jigs and sings sailorsongs just as he used to. You look about thirty, and as big and blackas a villain in a play. Oh, I've got a splendid idea! You are justthe thing for Arbaces in The Last Days of Pompeii. We want to act it;have the lion and the gladiators and the eruption. Tom and Ted aregoing to shower bushels of ashes down and roll barrels of stonesabout. We wanted a dark man for the Egyptian; and you will begorgeous in red and white shawls. Won't he, Aunt Jo?'
 
　　This deluge of words made Dan clap his hands over his ears; andbefore Mrs Bhaer could answer her impetuous niece the Laurences, withMeg and her family, arrived, soon followed by Tom and Nan, and allsat down to listen to Dan's adventures--told in brief yet effectivemanner, as the varying expressions of interest, wonder, merriment,and suspense painted on the circle of faces round him plainly showed.
 
　　The boys all wanted to start at once for California and makefortunes; the girls could hardly wait for the curious and prettythings he had picked up for them in his travels; while the eldersrejoiced heartily over the energy and good prospects of their wildboy.
 
　　'Of course you will want to go back for another stroke of luck; and Ihope you will have it. But speculation is a dangerous game, and youmay lose all you've won,' said Mr Laurie, who had enjoyed thestirring tale as much as any of the boys, and would have liked torough it with Dan as well as they.
 
　　'I've had enough of it, for a while at least; too much like gambling.
 
　　The excitement is all I care for, and it isn't good for me. I have anotion to try farming out West. It's grand on a large scale; and Ifeel as if steady work would be rather jolly after loafing round solong. I can make a beginning, and you can send me your black sheep tostock my place with. I tried sheep-farming in Australia, and knowsomething about black ones, any way.'
 
　　A laugh chased away the sober look in Dan's face as he ended; andthose who knew him best guessed that he had learned a lesson there inSan Francisco, and dared not try again.
 
　　'That is a capital idea, Dan!' cried Mrs Jo, seeing great hope inthis desire to fix himself somewhere and help others. 'We shall knowwhere you are, and can go and see you, and not have half the worldbetween us. I'll send my Ted for a visit. He's such a restlessspirit, it would do him good. With you he would be safe while heworked off his surplus energies and learned a wholesome business.'
 
　　'I'll use the "shubble and de hoe" like a good one, if I get a chanceout there; but the Speranza mines sound rather jollier,' said Ted,examining the samples of ore Dan had brought for the Professor.
 
　　'You go and start a new town, and when we are ready to swarm we willcome out and settle there. You will want a newspaper very soon, and Ilike the idea of running one myself much better than grinding away asI do now,' observed Demi, panting to distinguish himself in thejournalistic line.
 
　　'We could easily plant a new college there. These sturdy Westernersare hungry for learning, and very quick to see and choose the best,'
 
　　added ever-young Mr March, beholding with his prophetic eye manyduplicates of their own flourishing establishment springing up in thewide West.
 
　　'Go on, Dan. It is a fine plan, and we will back you up. I shouldn'tmind investing in a few prairies and cowboys myself,' said Mr Laurie,always ready to help the lads to help themselves, both by his cheerywords and ever-open purse.
 
　　'A little money sort of ballasts a fellow, and investing it in landanchors him--for a while, at least. I'd like to see what I can do,but I thought I'd consult you before I decided. Have my doubts aboutit suiting me for many years; but I can cut loose when I'm tired,'
 
　　answered Dan, both touched and pleased at the eager interest of thesefriends in his plans.
 
　　'I know you won't like it. After having the whole world to roam over,one farm will seem dreadfully small and stupid,' said Josie, who muchpreferred the romance of the wandering life which brought herthrilling tales and pretty things at each return.
 
　　'Is there any art out there?' asked Bess, thinking what a good studyin black and white Dan would make as he stood talking, half turnedfrom the light.
 
　　'Plenty of nature, dear; and that is better. You will find splendidanimals to model, and scenery such as you never saw in Europe topaint. Even prosaic pumpkins are grand out there. You can playCinderella in one of them, Josie, when you open your theatre inDansville,' said Mr Laurie, anxious that no cold water should bethrown on the new plan.
 
　　Stage-struck Josie was caught at once, and being promised all thetragic parts on the yet unbuilt stage, she felt a deep interest inthe project and begged Dan to lose no time in beginning hisexperiment. Bess also confessed that studies from nature would begood for her, and wild scenery improve her taste, which might growover-nice if only the delicate and beautiful were set before her.
 
　　'I speak for the practice of the new town,' said Nan, always eagerfor fresh enterprises. 'I shall be ready by the time you get wellstarted--towns grow so fast out there.'
 
　　'Dan isn't going to allow any woman under forty in his place. Hedoesn't like them, 'specially young and pretty ones,' put in Tom, whowas raging with jealousy, because he read admiration for Nan in Dan'seyes.
 
　　'That won't affect me, because doctors are exceptions to all rules.
 
　　There won't be much sickness in Dansville, everyone will lead suchactive, wholesome lives, and only energetic young people will gothere. But accidents will be frequent, owing to wild cattle, fastriding, Indian scrimmages, and the recklessness of Western life. Thatwill just suit me. I long for broken bones, surgery is so interestingand I get so little here,' answered Nan, yearning to put out hershingle and begin.
 
　　'I'll have you, Doctor, and be glad of such a good sample of what wecan do in the East. Peg away, and I'll send for you as soon as I havea roof to cover you. I'll scalp a few red fellows or smash up a dozenor so of cowboys for your special benefit,' laughed Dan, well pleasedwith the energy and fine physique which made Nan a conspicuous figureamong other girls.
 
　　'Thanks. I'll come. Would you just let me feel your arm? Splendidbiceps! Now, boys, see here: this is what I call muscle.' And Nandelivered a short lecture with Dan's sinewy arm to illustrate it.
 
　　Tom retired to the alcove and glowered at the stars, while he swunghis own right arm with a vigour suggestive of knocking someone down.
 
　　'Make Tom sexton; he'll enjoy burying the patients Nan kills. He'strying to get up the glum expression proper to the business. Don'tforget him, Dan,' said Ted, directing attention to the blighted beingin the corner.
 
　　But Tom never sulked long, and came out from his brief eclipse withthe cheerful proposition:
 
　　'Look here, we'll get the city to ship out to Dansville all the casesof yellow fever, smallpox, and cholera that arrive; then Nan will behappy and her mistakes won't matter much with emigrants andconvicts.'
 
　　'I should advise settling near Jacksonville, or some such city, thatyou might enjoy the society of cultivated persons. The Plato Club isthere, and a most ardent thirst for philosophy. Everything from theEast is welcomed hospitably, and new enterprises would flourish insuch kindly soil,' observed Mr March, mildly offering a suggestion,as he sat among the elders enjoying the lively scene.
 
　　The idea of Dan studying Plato was very funny; but no one exceptnaughty Ted smiled, and Dan made haste to unfold another planseething in that active brain of his.
 
　　'I'm not sure the farming will succeed, and have a strong leaningtowards my old friends the Montana Indians. They are a peacefultribe, and need help awfully; hundreds have died of starvationbecause they don't get their share. The Sioux are fighters, thirtythousand strong, so Government fears 'em, and gives 'em all theywant. I call that a damned shame!' Dan stopped short as the oathslipped out, but his eyes flashed, and he went on quickly: 'It isjust that, and I won't beg pardon. If I'd had any money when I wasthere I'd have given every cent to those poor devils, cheated out ofeverything, and waiting patiently, after being driven from their ownland to places where nothing will grow. Now, honest agents could domuch, and I've a feeling that I ought to go and lend a hand. I knowtheir lingo, and I like 'em. I've got a few thousands, and I ain'tsure I have any right to spend it on myself and settle down to enjoyit. Hey?'
 
　　Dan looked very manly and earnest as he faced his friends, flushedand excited by the energy of his words; and all felt that littlethrill of sympathy which links hearts together by the tie of pity forthe wronged.
 
　　'Do it, do it!' cried Mrs Jo, fired at once; for misfortune was muchmore interesting to her than good luck.
 
　　'Do it, do it!' echoed Ted, applauding as if at a play, 'and take mealong to help. I'm just raging to get among those fine fellows andhunt.'
 
　　'Let us hear more and see if it is wise,' said Mr Laurie, privatelyresolving to people his as yet unbought prairies with MontanaIndians, and increase his donations to the society that sentmissionaries to this much wronged people.
 
　　Dan plunged at once into the history of what he saw among theDakotas, and other tribes in the Northwest, telling of their wrongs,patience, and courage as if they were his brothers.
 
　　'They called me Dan Fire Cloud, because my rifle was the best theyever saw. And Black Hawk was as good a friend as a fellow would want;saved my life more than once, and taught me just what will be usefulif I go back. They are down on their luck, now, and I'd like to paymy debts.'
 
　　By this time everyone was interested, and Dansville began to lose itscharm. But prudent Mr Bhaer suggested that one honest agent amongmany could not do much, and noble as the effort would be, it waswiser to think over the matter carefully, get influence and authorityfrom the right quarters, and meantime look at lands before deciding.
 
　　'Well, I will. I'm going to take a run to Kansas and see how thatpromises. Met a fellow in 'Frisco who'd been there, and he spoke wellof it. The fact is, there's so much to be done every where that Idon't know where to catch on, and half wish I hadn't any money,'
 
　　answered Dan, knitting his brows in the perplexity all kind soulsfeel when anxious to help at the great task of the world's charity.
 
　　'I'll keep it for you till you decide. You are such an impetuous ladyou'll give it to the first beggar that gets hold of you. I'll turnit over while you are prospecting, and hand it back when you areready to invest, shall I?' asked Mr Laurie, who had learned wisdomsince the days of his own extravagant youth.
 
　　'Thanky, sir, I'd be glad to get rid of it. You just hold on till Isay the word; and if anything happens to me this time, keep it tohelp some other scamp as you helped me. This is my will, and you allwitness it. Now I feel better.' And Dan squared his shoulders as ifrelieved of a burden, after handing over the belt in which he carriedhis little fortune.
 
　　No one dreamed how much was to happen before Dan came to take hismoney back, nor how nearly that act was his last will and testament;and while Mr Laurie was explaining how he would invest it, a cheeryvoice was heard singing:
 
　　'Oh, Peggy was a jolly lass,Ye heave ho, boys, ye heave ho!
 
　　She never grudged her Jack a glass,Ye heave ho, boys, ye heave ho!
 
　　And when he sailed the raging main,She faithful was unto her swain,Ye heave ho, boys, ye heave ho!'
 
　　Emil always announced his arrival in that fashion, and in a moment hecame hurrying in with Nat, who had been giving lessons in town allday. It was good to see the latter beam at his friend as he nearlyshook his hand off; better still to see how Dan gratefully rememberedall he owed Nat, and tried to pay the debt in his rough way; and bestof all to hear the two travellers compare notes and reel off yarns todazzle the land-lubbers and home-keepers.
 
　　After this addition the house would not contain the gay youngsters,so they migrated to the piazza and settled on the steps, like a flockof night-loving birds. Mr March and the Professor retired to thestudy, Meg and Amy went to look after the little refection of fruitand cake which was to come, and Mrs Jo and Mr Laurie sat in the longwindow listening to the chat that went on outside.
 
　　'There they are, the flower of our flock!' she said, pointing to thegroup before them. 'The others are dead or scattered, but these sevenboys and four girls are my especial comfort and pride. CountingAlice Heath, my dozen is made up, and my hands are full trying toguide these young lives as far as human skill can do it.'
 
　　'When we remember how different they are, from what some of themcame, and the home influences about others, I think we may feelpretty well satisfied so far,' answered Mr Laurie soberly, as hiseyes rested on one bright head among the black and brown ones, forthe young moon shone alike on all.
 
　　'I don't worry about the girls; Meg sees to them, and is so wise andpatient and tender they can't help doing well; but my boys are morecare every year, and seem to drift farther away from me each timethey go,' sighed Mrs Jo. 'They will grow up, and I can only hold themby one little thread, which may snap at any time, as it has with Jackand Ned. Dolly and George still like to come back, and I can say myword to them; and dear old Franz is too true ever to forget his own.
 
　　But the three who are soon going out into the world again I can'thelp worrying about. Emil's good heart will keep him straight, Ihope, and'"A sweet little cherub sits up aloft,To look out for the life of poor Jack."'
 
　　Nat is to make his first flight, and he's weak in spite of yourstrengthening influence; and Dan is still untamed. I fear it willtake some hard lesson to do that.'
 
　　'He's a fine fellow, Jo, and I almost regret this farming project. Alittle polish would make a gentleman of him, and who knows what hemight become here among us,' answered Mr Laurie, leaning over MrsBhaer's chair, just as he used to do years ago when they hadmischievous secrets together.
 
　　'It wouldn't be safe, Teddy. Work and the free life he loves willmake a good man of him, and that is better than any amount of polish,with the dangers an easy life in a city would bring him. We can'tchange his nature--only help it to develop in the right direction.
 
　　The old impulses are there, and must be controlled, or he will gowrong. I see that; but his love for us is a safeguard, and we mustkeep a hold on him till he is older or has a stronger tie to helphim.'
 
　　Mrs Jo spoke earnestly, for, knowing Dan better than anyone else, shesaw that her colt was not thoroughly broken yet, and feared while shehoped, knowing that life would always be hard for one like him. Shewas sure that before he went away again, in some quiet moment hewould give her a glimpse of his inner self, and then she could saythe word of warning or encouragement that he needed. So she bided hertime, studying him meanwhile, glad to see all that was promising, andquick to detect the harm the world was doing him. She was veryanxious to make a success of her 'firebrand' because others predictedfailure; but having learned that people cannot be moulded like clay,she contented herself with the hope that this neglected boy mightbecome a good man, and asked no more. Even that was much to expect,so full was he of wayward impulses, strong passions, and the lawlessnature born in him. Nothing held him but the one affection of hislife--the memory of Plumfield, the fear of disappointing thesefaithful friends, the pride, stronger than principle, that made himwant to keep the regard of the mates who always had admired and lovedhim in spite of all his faults.
 
　　'Don't fret, old dear; Emil is one of the happy-go-lucky sort whoalways fall on their legs. I'll see to Nat, and Dan is in a good waynow. Let him take a look at Kansas, and if the farm plan loses itscharm, he can fall back on poor Lo, and really do good out there.
 
　　He's unusually fitted for that peculiar task and I hope he'll decideto do it. Fighting oppressors, and befriending the oppressed willkeep those dangerous energies of his busy, and the life will suit himbetter than sheep-folds and wheat-fields.'
 
　　'I hope so. What is that?' and Mrs Jo leaned forward to listen, asexclamations from Ted and Josie caught her ear.
 
　　'A mustang! a real, live one; and we can ride it. Dan, you are afirst-class trump!' cried the boy.
 
　　'A whole Indian dress for me! Now I can play Namioka, if the boys actMetamora,' added Josie, clapping her hands.
 
　　'A buffalo's head for Bess! Good gracious, Dan, why did you bringsuch a horrid thing as that to her?' asked Nan.
 
　　'Thought it would do her good to model something strong and natural.
 
　　She'll never amount to anything if she keeps on making namby-pambygods and pet kittens,' answered irreverent Dan, remembering that whenhe was last here Bess was vibrating distractedly between a head ofApollo and her Persian cat as models.
 
　　'Thank you; I'll try it, and if I fail we can put the buffalo up inthe hall to remind us of you,' said Bess, indignant at the insultoffered the gods of her idolatry, but too well bred to show it exceptin her voice, which was as sweet and as cold as ice-cream.
 
　　'I suppose you won't come out to see our new settlement when the restdo? Too rough for you?' asked Dan, trying to assume the deferentialair all the boys used when addressing their Princess.
 
　　'I am going to Rome to study for years. All the beauty and art of theworld is there, and a lifetime isn't long enough to enjoy it,'
 
　　answered Bess.
 
　　'Rome is a mouldy old tomb compared to the "Garden of the gods" andmy magnificent Rockies. I don't care a hang for art; nature is asmuch as I can stand, and I guess I could show you things that wouldknock your old masters higher than kites. Better come, and whileJosie rides the horses you can model 'em. If a drove of a hundred orso of wild ones can't show you beauty, I'll give up,' cried Dan,waxing enthusiastic over the wild grace and vigour which he couldenjoy but had no power to describe.
 
　　'I'll come some day with papa, and see if they are better than thehorses of St Mark and those on Capitol Hill. Please don't abuse mygods, and I will try to like yours,' said Bess, beginning to thinkthe West might be worth seeing, though no Raphael or Angelo had yetappeared there.
 
　　'That's a bargain! I do think people ought to see their own countrybefore they go scooting off to foreign parts, as if the new worldwasn't worth discovering,' began Dan, ready to bury the hatchet.
 
　　'It has some advantages, but not all. The women of England can vote,and we can't. I'm ashamed of America that she isn't ahead in all goodthings,' cried Nan, who held advanced views on all reforms, and wasanxious about her rights, having had to fight for some of them.
 
　　'Oh, please don't begin on that. People always quarrel over thatquestion, and call names, and never agree. Do let us be quiet andhappy tonight,' pleaded Daisy, who hated discussion as much as Nanloved it.
 
　　'You shall vote as much as you like in our new town, Nan; be mayorand aldermen, and run the whole concern. It's going to be as free asair, or I can't live in it,' said Dan, adding, with a laugh, 'I seeMrs Giddygaddy and Mrs Shakespeare Smith don't agree any better thanthey used to.'
 
　　'If everyone agreed, we should never get on. Daisy is a dear, butinclined to be an old fogy; so I stir her up; and next fall she willgo and vote with me. Demi will escort us to do the one thing we areallowed to do as yet.'
 
　　'Will you take 'em, Deacon?' asked Dan, using the old name as if heliked it. 'It works capitally in Wyoming.'
 
　　'I shall be proud to do it. Mother and the aunts go every year, andDaisy will come with me. She is my better half still; and I don'tmean to leave her behind in anything,' said Demi, with an arm roundhis sister of whom he was fonder than ever.
 
　　Dan looked at them wistfully, thinking how sweet it must be to havesuch a tie; and his lonely youth seemed sadder than ever as herecalled its struggles. A gusty sigh from Tom made sentimentimpossible, as he said pensively:
 
　　'I always wanted to be a twin. It's so sociable and so cosy to havesomeone glad to lean on a fellow and comfort him, if other girls arecruel.'
 
　　As Tom's unrequited passion was the standing joke of the family, thisallusion produced a laugh, which Nan increased by whipping out abottle of Nux, saying, with her professional air:
 
　　'I knew you ate too much lobster for tea. Take four pellets, and yourdyspepsia will be all right. Tom always sighs and is silly when he'sovereaten.'
 
　　'I'll take 'em. These are the only sweet things you ever give me.'
 
　　And Tom gloomily crunched his dose.
 
　　'"Who can minister to a mind diseased, or pluck out a rooted sorrow?"quoted Josie tragically from her perch on the railing.
 
　　'Come with me, Tommy, and I'll make a man of you. Drop your pills andpowders, and cavort round the world a spell, and you'll soon forgetyou've got a heart, or a stomach either,' said Dan, offering his onepanacea for all ills.
 
　　'Ship with me, Tom. A good fit of seasickness will set you up, and astiff north-easter blow your blue-devils away. Come along assurgeon--easy berth, and no end of larks.'
 
　　'"And if your Nancy frowns, my lad,And scorns a jacket blue,Just hoist your sails for other ports,And find a maid more true."'
 
　　added Emil, who had a fragment of song to cheer every care andsorrow, and freely offered them to his friends.
 
　　'Perhaps I'll think of it when I've got my diploma. I'm not going togrind three mortal years and have nothing to show for it. Till then,--'
 
　　'I'll never desert Mrs Micawber,' interrupted Teddy, with a gurglingsob. Tom immediately rolled him off the step into the wet grassbelow; and by the time this slight skirmish was over, the jingle ofteaspoons suggested refreshments of a more agreeable sort. In formertimes the little girls waited on the boys, to save confusion; now theyoung men flew to serve the ladies, young and old; and that slightfact showed plainly how the tables were turned by time. And what apleasant arrangement it was! Even Josie sat still, and let Emil bringher berries; enjoying her young lady-hood, till Ted stole her cake,when she forgot manners, and chastised him with a rap on theknuckles. As guest of honour, Dan was only allowed to wait on Bess,who still held the highest place in this small world. Tom carefullyselected the best of everything for Nan, to be crushed by the remark:
 
　　'I never eat at this hour; and you will have a nightmare if you do.'
 
　　So, dutifully curbing the pangs of hunger, he gave the plate toDaisy, and chewed rose-leaves for his supper.
 
　　When a surprising quantity of wholesome nourishment had beenconsumed, someone said, 'Let's sing!' and a tuneful hour followed.
 
　　Nat fiddled, Demi piped, Dan strummed the old banjo, and Emil warbleda doleful ballad about the wreck of the Bounding Betsey; theneverybody joined in the old songs till there was very decidedly'music in the air'; and passers-by said, as they listened smiling:
 
　　'Old Plum is gay tonight!'
 
　　When all had gone Dan lingered on the piazza, enjoying the balmy windthat blew up from the hayfields, and brought the breath of flowersfrom Parnassus; and as he leaned there romantically in the moonlight,Mrs Jo came to shut the door.
 
　　'Dreaming dreams, Dan?' she asked, thinking the tender moment mighthave come. Imagine the shock when, instead of some interestingconfidence or affectionate word, Dan swung round, saying bluntly:
 
　　'I was wishing I could smoke.'
 
　　Mrs Jo laughed at the downfall of her hopes, and answered kindly:
 
　　'You may, in your room; but don't set the house afire.'
 
　　Perhaps Dan saw a little disappointment in her face, or the memory ofthe sequel of that boyish frolic touched his heart; for he stoopedand kissed her, saying in a whisper: 'Good night, mother.' And Mrs Jowas half satisfied.
Chatper 5 Vacation
 Everyone was glad of a holiday next morning, and all lingered overthe breakfast-table, till Mrs Jo suddenly exclaimed:
 
　　'Why, there's a dog!' And on the threshold of the door appeared agreat deer-hound, standing motionless, with his eyes fixed on Dan.
 
　　'Hallo, old boy! Couldn't you wait till I came for you? Have you cutaway on the sly? Own up now, and take your whipping like a man,' saidDan, rising to meet the dog, who reared on his hind legs to look hismaster in the face and bark as if uttering an indignant denial of anydisobedience.
 
　　'All right; Don never lies.' And Dan gave the tall beast a hug,adding as he glanced out of the window, where a man and horse wereseen approaching:
 
　　'I left my plunder at the hotel over night, not knowing how I shouldfind you. Come out and see Octoo, my mustang; she's a beauty.' AndDan was off, with the family streaming after him, to welcome thenewcomer.
 
　　They found her preparing to go up the steps in her eagerness to reachher master, to the great dismay of the man, who was holding her back.
 
　　'Let her come,' called Dan; 'she climbs like a cat and jumps like adeer. Well, my girl, do you want a gallop?' he asked, as the prettycreature clattered up to him and whinnied with pleasure as he rubbedher nose and slapped her glossy flank.
 
　　'That's what I call a horse worth having,' said Ted, full ofadmiration and delight; for he was to have the care of her duringDan's absence.
 
　　'What intelligent eyes! She looks as if she would speak,' said Mrs Jo.
 
　　'She talks like a human in her way. Very little that she don't know.
 
　　Hey, old Lass?' and Dan laid his cheek to hers as if the little blackmare was very dear to him.
 
　　'What does "Octoo" mean?' asked Rob.
 
　　'Lightning; she deserves it, as you'll see. Black Hawk gave her to mefor my rifle, and we've had high times together out yonder. She'ssaved my life more than once. Do you see that scar?'
 
　　Dan pointed to a small one, half hidden by the long mane; andstanding with his arm about Octoo's neck, he told the story of it.
 
　　'Black Hawk and I were after buffalo one time, but didn't find 'em assoon as we expected; so our food gave out, and there we were ahundred miles from Red Deer River, where our camp was. I thought wewere done for, but my brave pal says: "Now I'll show you how we canlive till we find the herds." We were unsaddling for the night by alittle pond; there wasn't a living creature in sight anywhere, noteven a bird, and we could see for miles over the prairies. What doyou think we did?' And Dan looked into the faces round him.
 
　　'Ate worms like the Australian fellows,' said Rob. 'Boiled grass orleaves,' added Mrs Jo.
 
　　'Perhaps filled the stomach with clay, as we read of savages doing?'
 
　　suggested Mr Bhaer.
 
　　'Killed one of the horses,' cried Ted, eager for bloodshed of somesort.
 
　　'No; but we bled one of them. See, just here; filled a tin cup, putsome wild sage leaves in it, with water, and heated it over a fire ofsticks. It was good, and we slept well.'
 
　　'I guess Octoo didn't.' And Josie patted the animal, with a face fullof sympathy.
 
　　'Never minded it a bit. Black Hawk said we could live on the horsesseveral days and still travel before they felt it. But by anothermorning we found the buffalo, and I shot the one whose head is in mybox, ready to hang up and scare brats into fits. He's a fierce oldfellow, you bet.'
 
　　'What is this strap for?' asked Ted, who was busily examining theIndian saddle, the single rein and snaffle, with lariat, and roundthe neck the leather band he spoke of.
 
　　'We hold on to that when we lie along the horse's flank farthest fromthe enemy, and fire under the neck as we gallop round and round. I'llshow you.' And springing into the saddle, Dan was off down the steps,tearing over the lawn at a great pace, sometimes on Octoo's back,sometimes half hidden as he hung by stirrup and strap, and sometimesoff altogether, running beside her as she loped along, enjoying thefun immensely; while Don raced after, in a canine rapture at beingfree again and with his mates.
 
　　It was a fine sight--the three wild things at play, so full ofvigour, grace, and freedom, that for the moment the smooth lawnseemed a prairie; and the spectators felt as if this glimpse ofanother life made their own seem rather tame and colourless.
 
　　'This is better than a circus!' cried Mrs Jo, wishing she were a girlagain, that she might take a gallop on this chained lightning of ahorse. 'I foresee that Nan will have her hands full setting bones,for Ted will break every one of his trying to rival Dan.'
 
　　'A few falls will not harm, and this new care and pleasure will begood for him in all ways. But I fear Dan will never follow a ploughafter riding a Pegasus like that,' answered Mr Bhaer, as the blackmare leaped the gate and came flying up the avenue, to stop at a wordand stand quivering with excitement, while Dan swung himself off andlooked up for applause.
 
　　He received plenty of it, and seemed more pleased for his pet's sakethan for his own. Ted clamoured for a lesson at once, and was soon atease in the queer saddle, finding Octoo gentle as a lamb, as hetrotted away to show off at college. Bess came hastening down thehill, having seen the race from afar; and all collected on the piazzawhile Dan 'yanked' the cover off the big box the express had 'dumped'
 
　　before the door--to borrow his own words.
 
　　Dan usually travelled in light marching order, and hated to have moreluggage than he could carry in his well-worn valise. But now that hehad a little money of his own, he had cumbered himself with acollection of trophies won by his bow and spear, and brought themhome to bestow upon his friends.
 
　　'We shall be devoured with moths,' thought Mrs Jo, as the shaggy headappeared, followed by a wolf-skin rug for her feet, a bear-skin dittofor the Professor's study, and Indian garments bedecked with foxes'
 
　　tails for the boys.
 
　　All nice and warm for a July day, but received with delightnevertheless. Ted and Josie immediately 'dressed up', learned thewar-whoop, and proceeded to astonish their friends by a series ofskirmishes about the house and grounds, with tomahawks and bows andarrows, till weariness produced a lull.
 
　　Gay birds' wings, plumy pampas grass, strings of wampum, and prettywork in beads, bark, and feathers, pleased the girls. Minerals,arrow-heads, and crude sketches interested the Professor; and whenthe box was empty, Dan gave Mr Laurie, as his gift, several plaintiveIndian songs written on birch-bark.
 
　　'We only want a tent over us to be quite perfect. I feel as if Iought to give you parched corn and dried meat for dinner, my braves.
 
　　Nobody will want lamb and green peas after this splendid pow-wow,'
 
　　said Mrs Jo, surveying the picturesque confusion of the long hall,where people lay about on the rugs, all more or less bedecked withfeathers, moccasins, or beads.
 
　　'Moose noses, buffalo tongues, bear steaks, and roasted marrow-boneswould be the thing, but I don't mind a change; so bring on yourbaa-baa and green meat,' answered Dan from the box, where he sat instate like a chief among his tribe, with the great hound at his feet.
 
　　The girls began to clear up, but made little headway; for everythingthey touched had a story, and all were thrilling, comical, or wild;so they found it hard to settle to their work, till Dan was carriedoff by Mr Laurie.
 
　　This was the beginning of the summer holiday, and it was curious tosee what a pleasant little stir Dan's and Emil's coming made in thequiet life of the studious community; for they seemed to bring afresh breeze with them that enlivened everyone. Many of thecollegians remained during vacation; and Plumfield and Parnassus didtheir best to make these days pleasant for them, since most came fromdistant States, were poor, and had few opportunities but this forculture or amusement. Emil was hail-fellow-well-met with men andmaids, and went rollicking about in true sailor fashion; but Danstood rather in awe of the 'fair girl-graduates', and was silent whenamong them, eyeing them as an eagle might a flock of doves. He got onbetter with the young men, and was their hero at once. Theiradmiration for his manly accomplishments did him good; because hefelt his educational defects keenly, and often wondered if he couldfind anything in books to satisfy him as thoroughly as did thelessons he was learning from Nature's splendidly illustrated volume.
 
　　In spite of his silence, the girls found out his good qualities, andregarded 'the Spaniard', as they named him, with great favour; forhis black eyes were more eloquent than his tongue, and the kindcreatures tried to show their friendly interests in many charmingways.
 
　　He saw this, and endeavoured to be worthy of it--curbing his freespeech, toning down his rough manners, and watching the effect of allhe said and did, anxious to make a good impression. The socialatmosphere warmed his lonely heart, the culture excited him to do hisbest, and the changes which had taken place during his absence, bothin himself and others, made the old home seem like a new world. Afterthe life in California, it was sweet and restful to be here, withthese familiar faces round him, helping him to forget much that heregretted, and to resolve to deserve more entirely the confidence ofthese good fellows, the respect of these innocent girls.
 
　　So there was riding, rowing, and picnicking by day, music, dancing,and plays by night; and everyone said there had not been so gay avacation for years. Bess kept her promise, and let the dust gather onher beloved clay while she went pleasuring with her mates or studiedmusic with her father, who rejoiced over the fresh roses in hercheeks and the laughter which chased away the dreamy look she used towear. Josie quarrelled less with Ted; for Dan had a way of looking ather which quelled her instantly, and had almost as good an effectupon her rebellious cousin. But Octoo did even more for the livelyyouth, who found that her charms entirely eclipsed those of thebicycle which had been his heart's delight before. Early and late herode this untiring beast, and began to gain flesh--to the great joyof his mother, who feared that her beanstalk was growing too fast forhealth.
 
　　Demi, finding business dull, solaced his leisure by photographingeverybody he could induce to sit or stand to him, producing someexcellent pictures among many failures; for he had a pretty taste ingrouping, and endless patience. He might be said to view the worldthrough the lens of his camera, and seemed to enjoy himself very muchsquinting at his fellow beings from under a bit of black cambric. Danwas a treasure to him; for he took well, and willingly posed in hisMexican costume, with horse and hound, and all wanted copies of theseeffective photographs. Bess, also, was a favourite sitter; and Demireceived a prize at the Amateur Photographic Exhibition for one ofhis cousin with all her hair about her face, which rose from thecloud of white lace draping the shoulders. These were freely handedround by the proud artist; and one copy had a tender little historyyet to be told.
 
　　Nat was snatching every minute he could get with Daisy before thelong parting; and Mrs Meg relented somewhat, feeling sure thatabsence would quite cure this unfortunate fancy. Daisy said little;but her gentle face was sad when she was alone, and a few quiet tearsdropped on the handkerchiefs she marked so daintily with her ownhair. She was sure Nat would not forget her; and life looked ratherforlorn without the dear fellow who had been her friend since thedays of patty-pans and confidences in the willow-tree. She was anold-fashioned daughter, dutiful and docile, with such love andreverence for her mother that her will was law; and if love wasforbidden, friendship must suffice. So she kept her little sorrow toherself, smiled cheerfully at Nat, and made his last days ofhome-life very happy with every comfort and pleasure she could give,from sensible advice and sweet words to a well-filled work-bag forhis bachelor establishment and a box of goodies for the voyage.
 
　　Tom and Nan took all the time they could spare from their studies toenjoy high jinks at Plumfield with their old friends; for Emil's nextvoyage was to be a long one, Nat's absence was uncertain, and no oneever knew when Dan would turn up again. They all seemed to feel thatlife was beginning to grow serious; and even while they enjoyed thoselovely summer days together they were conscious that they werechildren no longer, and often in the pauses of their fun talkedsoberly of their plans and hopes, as if anxious to know and help oneanother before they drifted farther apart on their different ways.
 
　　A few weeks were all they had; then the Brenda was ready, Nat was tosail from New York, and Dan went along to see him off; for his ownplans fermented in his head, and he was eager to be up and doing. Afarewell dance was given on Parnassus in honour of the travellers,and all turned out in their best array and gayest spirits. George andDolly came with the latest Harvard airs and graces, radiant tobehold, in dress-suits and 'crushed hats', as Josie called theespecial pride and joy of their boyish souls. Jack and Ned sentregrets and best wishes, and no one mourned their absence; for theywere among what Mrs Jo called her failures. Poor Tom got intotrouble, as usual, by deluging his head with some highly scentedpreparation in the vain hope of making his tight curls lie flat andsmooth, as was the style. Unhappily, his rebellious crop only kinkedthe closer, and the odour of many barbers' shops clung to him inspite of his frantic efforts to banish it. Nan wouldn't allow himnear her, and flapped her fan vigorously whenever he was in sight;which cut him to the heart, and made him feel like the Peri shut outfrom Paradise. Of course his mates jeered at him, and nothing but theunquenchable jollity of his nature kept him from despair.
 
　　Emil was resplendent in his new uniform, and danced with an abandonwhich only sailors know. His pumps seemed to be everywhere, and hispartners soon lost breath trying to keep up with him; but the girlsall declared he steered like an angel, and in spite of his pace nocollisions took place; so he was happy, and found no lack of damselsto ship with him.
 
　　Having no dress-suit, Dan had been coaxed to wear his Mexicancostume, and feeling at ease in the many-buttoned trousers, loosejacket, and gay sash, flung his serape over his shoulder with aflourish and looked his best, doing great execution with his longspurs, as he taught Josie strange steps or rolled his black eyesadmiringly after certain blonde damsels whom he dared not address.
 
　　The mammas sat in the alcove, supplying pins, smiles, and kindlywords to all, especially the awkward youths new to such scenes, andthe bashful girls conscious of faded muslins and cleaned gloves. Itwas pleasant to see stately Mrs Amy promenade on the arm of a tallcountry boy, with thick boots and a big forehead, or Mrs Jo dancelike a girl with a shy fellow whose arms went like pump-handles, andwhose face was scarlet with confusion and pride at the honour oftreading on the toes of the president's wife. Mrs Meg always hadroom on her sofa for two or three girls, and Mr Laurie devotedhimself to these plain, poorly dressed damsels with a kindly gracethat won their hearts and made them happy. The good Professorcirculated like refreshments, and his cheerful face shone on allalike, while Mr March discussed Greek comedy in the study with suchserious gentlemen as never unbent their mighty minds to frivolousjoys.
 
　　The long music-room, parlour, hall, and piazza were full ofwhite-gowned maidens with attendant shadows; the air was full oflively voices, and hearts and feet went lightly together as the homeband played vigorously, and the friendly moon did her best to addenchantment to the scene.
 
　　'Pin me up, Meg; that dear Dunbar boy has nearly rent me "in sunder",as Mr Peggotty would say. But didn't he enjoy himself, bumpingagainst his fellow men and swinging me round like a mop. On theseoccasions I find that I'm not as young as I was, nor as light offoot. In ten years more we shall be meal-bags, sister; so beresigned.' And Mrs Jo subsided into a corner, much dishevelled by herbenevolent exertions.
 
　　'I know I shall be stout; but you won't keep still long enough to getmuch flesh on your bones, dear; and Amy will always keep her lovelyfigure. She looks about eighteen tonight, in her white gown androses,' answered Meg, busily pinning up one sister's torn frills,while her eyes fondly followed the other's graceful movements; forMeg still adored Amy in the old fashion.
 
　　It was one of the family jokes that Jo was getting fat, and she keptit up, though as yet she had only acquired a matronly outline, whichwas very becoming. They were laughing over the impending doublechins, when Mr Laurie came off duty for a moment.
 
　　'Repairing damages as usual, Jo? You never could take a little gentleexercise without returning in rags. Come and have a quiet stroll withme and cool off before supper. I've a series of pretty tableaux toshow you while Meg listens to the raptures of lisping Miss Carr, whomI made happy by giving her Demi for a partner.'
 
　　As he spoke, Laurie led Jo to the music-room, nearly empty now aftera dance which sent the young people into garden and hall. Pausingbefore the first of the four long windows that opened on a very widepiazza, he pointed to a group outside, saying: 'The name of this is"Jack Ashore".'
 
　　A pair of long, blue legs, ending in very neat pumps, hung from theveranda roof among the vines; and roses, gathered by unseen hands,evidently appertaining to aforesaid legs, were being dropped into thelaps of several girls perched like a flock of white birds on therailing below; while a manly voice 'fell like a falling star', as itsung this pensive ditty to a most appreciative audience:
 
　　MARY'S DREAMThe moon had climbed the eastern hillWhich rises o'er the sands of Dee,And from its highest summit shedA silver light on tower and tree,When Mary laid her down to sleep(Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea);When soft and low a voice was heard,Saying, 'Mary, weep no more for me.'
 
　　She from her pillow gently raisedHer head, to see who there might be,And saw young Sandy, shivering standWith visage pale and hollow e'e.
 
　　'Oh Mary dear, cold is my clay;It lies beneath the stormy sea;Far, far from thee, I sleep in death.
 
　　Dear Mary, weep no more for me.
 
　　'Three stormy nights and stormy daysWe tossed upon the raging main.
 
　　And long we strove our bark to save;But all our striving was in vain.
 
　　E'en then, when terror chilled my blood,My heart was filled with love of thee.
 
　　The storm is past, and I'm at rest;So, Mary, weep no more for me.
 
　　'Oh maiden dear, yourself prepare;We soon shall meet upon that shoreWhere love is free from doubt and care,And you and I shall part no more.'
 
　　Loud crew the cock, the shadow fled;No more her Sandy did she see;But soft the passing spirit said,'Sweet Mary, weep no more for me.'
 
　　'The constant jollity of that boy is worth a fortune to him. He'llnever sink with such a buoyant spirit to keep him afloat throughlife,' said Mrs Jo, as the roses were tossed back with much applausewhen the song ended.
 
　　'Not he; and it's a blessing to be grateful for, isn't it? We moodypeople know its worth. Glad you like my first tableau. Come and seenumber two. Hope it isn't spoilt; it was very pretty just now. Thisis "Othello telling his adventures to Desdemona".'
 
　　The second window framed a very picturesque group of three. Mr Marchin an arm-chair, with Bess on a cushion at his feet, was listening toDan, who, leaning against a pillar, was talking with unusualanimation. The old man was in shadow, but little Desdemona waslooking up with the moonlight full upon her into young Othello'sface, quite absorbed in the story he was telling so well. The gaydrapery over Dan's shoulder, his dark colouring, and the gesture ofhis arm made the picture very striking, and both spectators enjoyedit with silent pleasure, till Mrs Jo said in a quick whisper:
 
　　'I'm glad he's going away. He's too picturesque to have here among somany romantic girls. Afraid his "grand, gloomy, and peculiar" stylewill be too much for our simple maids.'
 
　　'No danger; Dan is in the rough as yet, and always will be, I fancy;though he is improving in many ways. How well Queenie looks in thatsoft light!'
 
　　'Dear little Goldilocks looks well everywhere.' And with a backwardglance full of pride and fondness, Mrs Jo went on. But that scenereturned to her long afterward and her own prophetic words also.
 
　　Number three was a tragical tableau at first sight; and Mr Lauriestifled a laugh as he whispered 'The Wounded Knight', pointing to Tomwith his head enveloped in a large handkerchief, as he knelt beforeNan, who was extracting a thorn or splinter from the palm of his handwith great skill, to judge from the patient's blissful expression ofcountenance.
 
　　'Do I hurt you?' she asked, turning the hand to the moonlight for abetter view.
 
　　'Not a bit; dig away; I like it,' answered Tom, regardless of hisaching knees and the damage done to his best trousers.
 
　　'I won't keep you long.'
 
　　'Hours, if you please. Never so happy as here.'
 
　　Quite unmoved by this tender remark, Nan put on a pair of large,round-eyed glasses, saying in a matter-of-fact tone: 'Now I see it.
 
　　Only a splinter, and there it is.
 
　　'My hand is bleeding; won't you bind it up?' asked Tom, wishing toprolong the situation.
 
　　'Nonsense; suck it. Only take care of it tomorrow if you dissect.
 
　　Don't want any more blood-poisoning.'
 
　　'That was the only time you were kind to me. Wish I'd lost my arm.'
 
　　'I wish you'd lost your head; it smells more like turpentine andkerosene than ever. Do take a run in the garden and air it.'
 
　　Fearing to betray themselves by laughter, the watchers went on,leaving the Knight to rush away in despair, and the Lady to bury hernose in the cup of a tall lily for refreshment.
 
　　'Poor Tom, his fate is a hard one, and he's wasting his time! Doadvise him to quit philandering and go to work, Jo.'
 
　　'I have, Teddy, often; but it will take some great shock to make thatboy wise. I wait with interest to see what it will be. Bless me!
 
　　what is all this?'
 
　　She might well ask; for on a rustic stool stood Ted trying to pose onone foot, with the other extended, and both hands waving in the air.
 
　　Josie, with several young mates, was watching his contortions withdeep interest as they talked about 'little wings', 'gilded wiretwisted', and a 'cunning skull-cap'.
 
　　'This might be called "Mercury Trying to Fly",' said Mr Laurie, asthey peeped through the lace curtains.
 
　　'Bless the long legs of that boy! how does he expect to manage them?
 
　　They are planning for the Owlsdark Marbles, and a nice muddle theywill make of my gods and goddesses with no one to show them how,'
 
　　answered Mrs Jo, enjoying this scene immensely. 'Now, he's got it!'
 
　　'That's perfectly splendid!' 'See how long you can keep so!' criedthe girls, as Ted managed to maintain his equilibrium a moment byresting one toe on the trellis. Unfortunately this brought all hisweight on the other foot; the straw seat of the stool gave way, andthe flying Mercury came down with a crash, amid shrieks of laughterfrom the girls. Being accustomed to ground and lofty tumbling, hequickly recovered himself, and hopped gaily about, with one legthrough the stool as he improvised a classic jig.
 
　　'Thanks for four nice little pictures. You have given me an idea, andI think some time we will get up regular tableaux of this sort andmarch our company round a set of dissolving views. New and striking;I'll propose it to our manager and give you all the glory,' said MrsJo, as they strolled towards the room whence came the clash of glassand china, and glimpses of agitated black coats.
 
　　Let us follow the example of our old friends and stroll about amongthe young people, eavesdropping, so gathering up various littlethreads to help in the weaving of the story. George and Dolly were atsupper, and having served the ladies in their care stood in a cornerabsorbing nourishment of all kinds with a vain attempt to concealhearty appetites under an air of elegant indifference.
 
　　'Good spread, this; Laurence does things in style. First-rate coffee,but no wine, and that's a mistake,' said Stuffy, who still deservedhis name, and was a stout youth with a heavy eye and biliouscomplexion.
 
　　'Bad for boys, he says. Jove! wish he could see us at some of ourwines. Don't we just "splice the main brace" as Emil says,' answeredDolly, the dandy, carefully spreading a napkin over the glossyexpanse of shirt-front whereon a diamond stud shone like a lone star.
 
　　His stutter was nearly outgrown; but he, as well as George, spoke inthe tone of condescension, which, with the blase airs they assumed,made a very funny contrast to their youthful faces and foolishremarks. Good-hearted little fellows both, but top-heavy with thepride of being Sophs and the freedom that college life gave them.
 
　　'Little Jo is getting to be a deuced pretty girl, isn't she?' saidGeorge, with a long sigh of satisfaction as his first mouthful of icewent slowly down his throat.
 
　　'H'm--well, fairish. The Princess is rather more to my taste. I like'em blonde and queenly and elegant, don't you know.'
 
　　'Yes, Jo is too lively; might as well dance with a grasshopper. I'vetried her, and she's one too many for me. Miss Perry is a nice,easy-going girl. Got her for the german.'
 
　　'You'll never be a dancing man. Too lazy. Now I'll undertake to steerany girl and dance down any fellow you please. Dancing's my forte.'
 
　　And Dolly glanced from his trim feet to his flashing gem with thedefiant air of a young turkey-cock on parade.
 
　　'Miss Grey is looking for you. Wants more grub. Just see if MissNelson's plate is empty, there's a good fellow. Can't eat ice in ahurry.' And George remained in his safe corner, while Dolly struggledthrough the crowd to do his duty, coming back in a fume, with asplash of salad dressing on his coat-cuff.
 
　　'Confound these country chaps! they go blundering round like so manydor-bugs, and make a deuce of a mess. Better stick to books and nottry to be society men. Can't do it. Beastly stain. Give it a rub, andlet me bolt a mouthful, I'm starved. Never saw girls eat such a lot.
 
　　It proves that they ought not to study so much. Never liked co-ed,'
 
　　growled Dolly, much ruffled in spirit.
 
　　'So they do. 'Tisn't ladylike. Ought to be satisfied with an ice anda bit of cake, and eat it prettily. Don't like to see a girl feed. Wehard-working men need it, and, by Jove, I mean to get some more ofthat meringue if it's not all gone. Here, waiter! bring along thatdish over there, and be lively,' commanded Stuffy, poking a young manin a rather shabby dress-suit, who was passing with a tray ofglasses.
 
　　His order was obeyed promptly; but George's appetite was taken awaythe next moment by Dolly's exclaiming, as he looked up from hisdamaged coat, with a scandalized face:
 
　　'You've put your foot in it now, old boy! that's Morton, Mr Bhaer'scrack man. Knows everything, no end of a "dig", and bound to carryoff all the honours. You won't hear the last of it in a hurry.' AndDolly laughed so heartily that a spoonful of ice flew upon the headof a lady sitting below him, and got him into a scrape also.
 
　　Leaving them to their despair, let us listen to the whispered chat oftwo girls comfortably seated in a recess waiting till their escortswere fed.
 
　　'I do think the Laurences give lovely parties. Don't you enjoy them?'
 
　　asked the younger, looking about her with the eager air of one unusedto this sort of pleasure.
 
　　'Very much, only I never feel as if I was dressed right. My thingsseemed elegant at home, and I thought I'd be over over-dressed ifanything; but I look countrified and dowdy here. No time or money tochange now, even if I knew how to do it,' answered the other,glancing anxiously at her bright pink silk grown, trimmed with cheaplace.
 
　　'You must get Mrs Brooke to tell you how to fix your things. She wasvery kind to me. I had a green silk, and it looked so cheap andhorrid by the side of the nice dresses here I felt regularly unhappyabout it, and asked her how much a dress like one Mrs Laurence hadwould cost. That looked so simple and elegant I thought it wouldn'tbe costly; but it was India mull and Valenciennes lace, so, ofcourse, I couldn't have it. Then Mrs Brooke said: "Get some muslin tocover the green silk, and wear hops or some white flowers, instead ofpink, in your hair, and you will have a pretty suit." Isn't it lovelyand becoming?' And Miss Burton surveyed herself with girlishsatisfaction; for a little taste had softened the harsh green, andhop-bells became her red hair better than roses.
 
　　'It's sweet: I've been admiring it. I'll do mine so and ask about mypurple one. Mrs Brooke has helped me to get rid of my headaches, andMary Clay's dyspepsia is all gone since she gave up coffee and hotbread.'
 
　　'Mrs Laurence advised me to walk and run and use the gymnasium tocure my round shoulders and open my chest, and I'm a much betterfigure than I was.'
 
　　'Did you know that Mr Laurence pays all Amelia Merrill's bills? Herfather failed, and she was heartbroken at having to leave college;but that splendid man just stepped in and made it all right.' 'Yes,and Professor Bhaer has several of the boys down at his houseevenings to help them along so they can keep up with the rest; andMrs Bhaer took care of Charles Mackey herself when he had a feverlast year. I do think they are the best and kindest people in theworld.'
 
　　'So do I, and my time here will be the happiest and most useful yearsof my life.'
 
　　And both girls forgot their gowns and their suppers for a moment tolook with grateful, affectionate eyes at the friends who tried tocare for bodies and for souls as well as minds.
 
　　Now come to a lively party supping on the stairs, girls like foam atthe top, and a substratum of youths below, where the heaviestparticles always settle. Emil, who never sat if he could climb orperch, adorned the newel-post; Tom, Nat, Demi, and Dan were camped onthe steps, eating busily, as their ladies were well served and theyhad earned a moment's rest, which they enjoyed with their eyes fixedon the pleasing prospect above them.
 
　　'I'm so sorry the boys are going. It will be dreadfully dull withoutthem. Now they have stopped teasing and are polite, I really enjoythem,' said Nan, who felt unusually gracious tonight as Tom's mishapkept him from annoying her.
 
　　'So do I; and Bess was mourning about it today, though as a generalthing she doesn't like boys unless they are models of elegance. Shehas been doing Dan's head, and it is not quite finished. I never sawher so interested in any work, and it's very well done. He is sostriking and big he always makes me think of the Dying Gladiator orsome of those antique creatures. There's Bess now. Dear child, howsweet she looks tonight!' answered Daisy, waving her hand as thePrincess went by with Grandpa on her arm.
 
　　'I never thought he would turn out so well. Don't you remember how weused to call him "the bad boy" and be sure he would become a pirateor something awful because he glared at us and swore sometimes? Nowhe is the handsomest of all the boys, and very entertaining with hisstories and plans. I like him very much; he's so big and strong andindependent. I'm tired of mollycoddles and book-worms,' said Nan inher decided way.
 
　　'Not handsomer that Nat!' cried loyal Daisy, contrasting two facesbelow, one unusually gay, the other sentimentally sober even in theact of munching cake. 'I like Dan, and am glad he is doing well; buthe tires me, and I'm still a little afraid of him. Quiet people suitme best.'
 
　　'Life is a fight, and I like a good soldier. Boys take things tooeasily, don't see how serious it all is and go to work in earnest.
 
　　Look at that absurd Tom, wasting his time and making an object ofhimself just because he can't have what he wants, like a baby cryingfor the moon. I've no patience with such nonsense,' scolded Nan,looking down at the jovial Thomas, who was playfully puttingmacaroons in Emil's shoes, and trying to beguile his exile as best hecould.
 
　　'Most girls would be touched by such fidelity. I think it'sbeautiful,' said Daisy behind her fan; for other girls sat justbelow.
 
　　'You are a sentimental goose and not a judge. Nat will be twice theman when he comes back after his trip. I wish Tom was going with him.
 
　　My idea is that if we girls have any influence we should use it forthe good of these boys, and not pamper them up, making slaves ofourselves and tyrants of them. Let them prove what they can do and bebefore they ask anything of us, and give us a chance to do the same.
 
　　Then we know where we are, and shall not make mistakes to mourn overall our lives.'
 
　　'Hear, hear!' cried Alice Heath, who was a girl after Nan's ownheart, and had chosen a career, like a brave and sensible youngwoman. 'Only give us a chance, and have patience till we can do ourbest. Now we are expected to be as wise as men who have hadgenerations of all the help there is, and we scarcely anything. Letus have equal opportunities, and in a few generations we will seewhat the judgement is. I like justice, and we get very little of it.'
 
　　'Still shouting the battle-cry of freedom?' asked Demi, peeringthrough the banisters at this moment. 'Up with your flag! I'll standby and lend a hand if you want it. With you and Nan to lead the van,I think you won't need much help.'
 
　　'You are a great comfort, Demi, and I'll call on you in allemergencies; for you are an honest boy, and don't forget that you owemuch to your mother and your sisters and your aunts,' continued Nan.
 
　　'I do like men who come out frankly and own that they are not gods.
 
　　How can we think them so when such awful mistakes are being made allthe time by these great creatures? See them sick, as I do, then youknow them.'
 
　　'Don't hit us when we are down; be merciful, and set us up to blessand believe in you evermore,' pleaded Demi from behind the bars.
 
　　'We'll be kind to you if you will be just to us. I don't saygenerous, only just. I went to a suffrage debate in the Legislaturelast winter; and of all the feeble, vulgar twaddle I ever heard, thatwas the worst; and those men were our representatives. I blushed forthem, and the wives and mothers. I want an intelligent man torepresent me, if I can't do it myself, not a fool.'
 
　　'Nan is on the stump. Now we shall catch it,' cried Tom, putting upan umbrella to shield his unhappy head; for Nan's earnest voice wasaudible, and her indignant eye happened to rest on him as she spoke.
 
　　'Go on, go on! I'll take notes, and put in "great applause"liberally,' added Demi, producing his ball-book and pencil, with hisJenkins air.
 
　　Daisy pinched his nose through the bars, and the meeting was rathertumultuous for a moment, for Emil called: 'Avast, avast, here's asquall to wind'ard'; Tom applauded wildly; Dan looked up as if theprospect of a fight, even with words, pleased him, and Nat went tosupport Demi, as his position seemed to be a good one. At thiscrisis, when everyone laughed and talked at once, Bess came floatingthrough the upper hall and looked down like an angel of peace uponthe noisy group below, as she asked, with wondering eyes and smilinglips:
 
　　'What is it?'
 
　　'An indignation meeting. Nan and Alice are on the rampage, and we areat the bar to be tried for our lives. Will Your Highness preside andjudge between us?' answered Demi, as a lull at once took place; forno one rioted in the presence of the Princess.
 
　　'I'm not wise enough. I'll sit here and listen. Please go on.' AndBess took her place above them all as cool and calm as a littlestatue of Justice, with fan and nosegay in place of sword and scales.
 
　　'Now, ladies, free your minds, only spare us till morning; for we'vegot a german to dance as soon as everyone is fed, and Parnassusexpects every man to do his duty. Mrs President Giddy-gaddy has thefloor,' said Demi, who liked this sort of fun better than the verymild sort of flirtation which was allowed at Plumfield, for thesimple reason that it could not be entirely banished, and is a partof all education, co- or otherwise.
 
　　'I have only one thing to say, and it is this,' began Nan soberly,though her eyes sparkled with a mixture of fun and earnestness. 'Iwant to ask every boy of you what you really think on this subject.
 
　　Dan and Emil have seen the world and ought to know their own minds.
 
　　Tom and Nat have had five examples before them for years. Demi isours and we are proud of him. So is Rob. Ted is a weathercock, andDolly and George, of course, are fogies in spite of the Annex, andgirls at Girton going ahead of the men. Commodore, are you ready forthe question?'
 
　　'Ay, ay, skipper.'
 
　　'Do you believe in Woman's Suffrage?'
 
　　'Bless your pretty figger head! I do, and I'll ship a crew of girlsany time you say so. Aren't they worse than a press-gang to carry afellow out of his moorings? Don't we all need one as pilot to steerus safe to port? and why shouldn't they share our mess afloat andashore since we are sure to be wrecked without 'em?'
 
　　'Good for you, Emil! Nan will take you for first mate after thathandsome speech,' said Demi, as the girls applauded, and Tomglowered. 'Now, Dan, you love liberty so well yourself, are youwilling we should have it?'
 
　　'All you can get, and I'll fight any man who's mean enough to say youdon't deserve it.'
 
　　This brief and forcible reply delighted the energetic President, andshe beamed upon the member from California, as she said briskly:
 
　　'Nat wouldn't dare to say he was on the other side even if he were,but I hope he has made up his mind to pipe for us, at least when wetake the field, and not be one of those who wait till the battle iswon, and then beat the drums and share the glory.'
 
　　Mrs Giddy-gaddy's doubts were most effectually removed, and her sharpspeech regretted, as Nat looked up blushing, but with a new sort ofmanliness in face and manner, saying, in a tone that touched themall:
 
　　'I should be the most ungrateful fellow alive if I did not love,honour, and serve women with all my heart and might, for to them Iowe everything I am or ever shall be.'
 
　　Daisy clapped her hands, and Bess threw her bouquet into Nat's lap,while the other girls waved their fans, well pleased; for realfeeling made his little speech eloquent.
 
　　'Thomas B. Bangs, come into court, and tell the truth, the wholetruth, and nothing but the truth, if you can,' commanded Nan, with arap to call the meeting to order.
 
　　Tom shut the umbrella, and standing up raised his hand, sayingsolemnly:
 
　　'I believe in suffrage of all kinds. I adore all women, and will diefor them at any moment if it will help the cause.'
 
　　'Living and working for it is harder, and therefore more honourable.
 
　　Men are always ready to die for us, but not to make our lives worthhaving. Cheap sentiment and bad logic. You will pass, Tom, only don'ttwaddle. Now, having taken the sense of the meeting we will adjourn,as the hour for festive gymnastics has arrived. I am glad to see thatold Plum has given six true men to the world, and hope they willcontinue to be staunch to her and the principles she has taught them,wherever they may go. Now, girls, don't sit in draughts, and, boys,beware of ice-water when you are warm.'
 
　　With this characteristic close Nan retired from office, and the girlswent to enjoy one of the few rights allowed them.
Chapter 6 Last Words
 The next day was Sunday, and a goodly troop of young and old setforth to church.--some driving, some walking, all enjoying the lovelyweather and the happy quietude which comes to refresh us when thework and worry of the week are over. Daisy had a headache; and AuntJo remained at home to keep her company, knowing very well that theworst ache was in the tender heart struggling dutifully against thelove that grew stronger as the parting drew nearer.
 
　　'Daisy knows my wishes, and I trust her. You must keep an eye on Nat,and let him clearly understand that there is to be no "lovering", orI shall forbid the letter-writing. I hate to seem cruel, but it istoo soon for my dear girl to bind herself in any way,' said Mrs Meg,as she rustled about in her best grey silk, while waiting for Demi,who always escorted his pious mother to church as a peace-offeringfor crossing her wishes in other things.
 
　　'I will, dear; I'm lying in wait for all three boys today, like anold spider; and I will have a good talk with each. They know Iunderstand them, and they always open their hearts sooner or later.
 
　　You look like a nice, plump little Quakeress, Meg; and no one willbelieve that big boy is your son,' added Mrs Jo, as Demi came inshining with Sunday neatness, from his well-blacked boots to hissmooth brown head.
 
　　'You flatter me, to soften my heart toward your boy. I know yourways, Jo, and I don't give in. Be firm, and spare me a scene by andby. As for John, as long as he is satisfied with his old mother, Idon't care what people think,' answered Mrs Meg, accepting with asmile the little posy of sweet peas and mignonette Demi brought her.
 
　　Then, having buttoned her dove-coloured gloves with care, she tookher son's arm and went proudly away to the carriage, where Amy andBess waited, while Jo called after them, just as Marmee used to do:
 
　　'Girls, have you got nice pocket-handkerchiefs?' They all smiled atthe familiar words, and three white banners waved as they drove away,leaving the spider to watch for her first fly. She did not wait long.
 
　　Daisy was lying down with a wet cheek on the little hymnbook out ofwhich she and Nat used to sing together; so Mrs Jo strolled about thelawn, looking very like a wandering mushroom with her large buffumbrella.
 
　　Dan had gone for a ten-mile stroll; and Nat was supposed to haveaccompanied him, but presently came sneaking back, unable to tearhimself away from the Dovecote or lose a moment of nearness to hisidol that last day. Mrs Jo saw him at once, and beckoned him to arustic seat under the old elm, where they could have theirconfidences undisturbed, and both keep an eye on a certainwhite-curtained window, half hidden in vines.
 
　　'Nice and cool here. I'm not up to one of Dan's tramps today--it's sowarm, and he goes so like a steam-engine. He headed for the swampwhere his pet snakes used to live, and I begged to be excused,' saidNat, fanning himself with his straw hat, though the day was notoppressive.
 
　　'I'm glad you did. Sit and rest with me, and have one of our good oldtalks. We've both been so busy lately, I feel as if I didn't halfknow your plans; and I want to,' answered Mrs Jo, feeling sure thatthough they might start with Leipzig they would bring up atPlumfield,'You are very kind, and there's nothing I'd like better. I don'trealize I'm going so far--suppose I shan't till I get afloat. It's asplendid start, and I don't know how I can ever thank Mr Laurie forall he's done, or you either,' added Nat, with a break in his voice;for he was a tender-hearted fellow, and never forgot a kindness.
 
　　'You can thank us beautifully by being and doing all we hope andexpect of you, my dear. In the new life you are going to there willbe a thousand trials and temptations, and only your own wit andwisdom to rely on. That will be the time to test the principles wehave tried to give you, and see how firm they are. Of course, youwill make mistakes--we all do; but don't let go of your conscienceand drift along blindly. Watch and pray, dear Nat; and while yourhand gains skill, let your head grow wiser, and keep your heart asinnocent and warm as it is now.'
 
　　'I'll try, Mother Bhaer, my very best to be a credit to you. I know Ishall improve in my music--can't help it there; but I never shall bevery wise, I'm afraid. As for my heart, you know, I leave it behindme in good keeping.'
 
　　As he spoke, Nat's eyes were fixed on the window with a look of loveand longing that made his quiet face both manly and sad-- plainlyshowing how strong a hold this boyish affection had upon him.
 
　　'I want to speak of that; and I know you will forgive what seemshard, because I do most heartily sympathize with you,' said Mrs Jo,glad to have her say.
 
　　'Yes, do talk about Daisy! I think of nothing but leaving and losingher. I have no hope--I suppose it is too much to ask; only I can'thelp loving her, wherever I am!' cried Nat, with a mixture ofdefiance and despair in his face that rather startled Mrs Jo.
 
　　'Listen to me and I'll try to give you both comfort and good advice.
 
　　We all know that Daisy is fond of you, but her mother objects, andbeing a good girl she tries to obey. Young people think they nevercan change, but they do in the most wonderful manner, and very fewdie of broken hearts.' Mrs Jo smiled as she remembered another boywhom she had once tried to comfort, and then went soberly on whileNat listened as if his fate hung upon her lips.
 
　　'One of two things will happen. You will find someone else to love,or, better still, be so busy and happy in your music that you will bewilling to wait for time to settle the matter for you both. Daisywill perhaps forget when you are gone, and be glad you are onlyfriends. At any rate it is much wiser to have no promises made; thenboth are free, and in a year or two may meet to laugh over the littleromance nipped in the bud.'
 
　　'Do you honestly think that?' asked Nat, looking at her so keenlythat the truth had to come; for all his heart was in those frank blueeyes of his.
 
　　'No, I don't!' answered Mrs Jo. 'Then if you were in my place, whatwould you do?' he added, with a tone of command never heard in hisgentle voice before.
 
　　'Bless me! the boy is in dead earnest, and I shall forget prudence insympathy I'm afraid,' thought Mrs Jo, surprised and pleased by theunexpected manliness Nat showed.
 
　　'I'll tell you what I should do. I'd say to myself:
 
　　"I'll prove that my love is strong and faithful, and make Daisy'smother proud to give her to me by being not only a good musician butan excellent man, and so command respect and confidence. This I willtry for; and if I fail, I shall be the better for the effort, andfind comfort in the thought that I did my best for her sake."'
 
　　'That is what I meant to do. But I wanted a word of hope to give mecourage,' cried Nat, firing up as if the smouldering spark was setablaze by a breath of encouragement. 'Other fellows, poorer andstupider than I, have done great things and come to honour. Why maynot I, though I'm nothing now? I know Mrs Brooke remembers what Icame from, but my father was honest though everything went wrong; andI have nothing to be ashamed of though I was a charity boy. I neverwill be ashamed of my people or myself, and I'll make other folksrespect me if I can.'
 
　　'Good! that's the right spirit, Nat. Hold to it and make yourself aman. No one will be quicker to see and admire the brave work than mysister Meg. She does not despise your poverty or your past; butmothers are very tender over their daughters, and we Marches, thoughwe have been poor, are, I confess, a little proud of our good family.
 
　　We don't care for money; but a long line of virtuous ancestors issomething to desire and to be proud of.'
 
　　'Well, the Blakes are a good lot. I looked 'em up, and not one wasever in prison, hanged, or disgraced in any way. We used to be richand honoured years ago, but we've died out and got poor, and fatherwas a street musician rather than beg; and I'll be one again beforeI'll do the mean things some men do and pass muster.'
 
　　Nat was so excited that Mrs Jo indulged in a laugh to calm him, andboth went on more quietly.
 
　　'I told my sister all that and it pleased her. I am sure if you dowell these next few years that she will relent and all be happilysettled, unless that wonderful change, which you don't believepossible, should occur. Now, cheer up; don't be lackadaisical andblue. Say good-bye cheerfully and bravely, show a manly front, andleave a pleasant memory behind you. We all wish you well and hopemuch for you. Write to me every week and I'll send a good, gossipyanswer. Be careful what you write to Daisy; don't gush or wail, forsister Meg will see the letters; and you can help your cause verymuch by sending sensible, cheery accounts of your life to us all.'
 
　　'I will; I will; it looks brighter and better already, and I won'tlose my one comfort by any fault of my own. Thank you so much, MotherBhaer, for taking my side. I felt so ungrateful and mean and crushedwhen I thought you all considered me a sneak who had no business tolove such a precious girl as Daisy. No one said anything, but I knewhow you felt, and that Mr Laurie sent me off partly to get me out ofthe way. Oh dear, life is pretty tough sometimes, isn't it?' And Nattook his head in both hands as if it ached with the confusion ofhopes and fears, passions and plans that proved boyhood was past andmanhood had begun.
 
　　'Very tough, but it is that very struggle with obstacles which doesus good. Things have been made easy for you in many ways, but no onecan do everything. You must paddle your own canoe now, and learn toavoid the rapids and steer straight to the port you want to reach. Idon't know just what your temptations will be for you have no badhabits and seem to love music so well, nothing can lure you from it.
 
　　I only hope you won't work too hard.'
 
　　'I feel as if I could work like a horse, I'm so eager to get on; butI'll take care. Can't waste time being sick, and you've given medoses enough to keep me all right, I guess.' Nat laughed as heremembered the book of directions Mrs Jo had written for him toconsult on all occasions.
 
　　She immediately added some verbal ones on the subject of foreignmesses, and having mounted one of her pet hobbies, was in full gallopwhen Emil was seen strolling about on the roof of the old house, thatbeing his favourite promenade; for there he could fancy himselfwalking the deck, with only blue sky and fresh air about him.
 
　　'I want a word with the Commodore, and up there we shall be nice andquiet. Go and play to Daisy: it will put her to sleep and do you bothgood. Sit in the porch, so I can keep an eye on you as I promised';and with a motherly pat on the shoulder Mrs Jo left Nat to hisdelightful task and briskly ascended to the house-top, not up thetrellis as of old but by means of the stairs inside.
 
　　Emerging on the platform she found Emil cutting his initials afreshin the wood-work and singing 'Pull for the Shore', like the tunefulmariner he was.
 
　　'Come aboard and make yourself at home, Aunty,' he said, with aplayful salute. 'I'm just leaving a P.P.C. in the old place, so whenyou fly up here for refuge you'll remember me.'
 
　　'Ah, my dear, I'm not likely to forget you. It doesn't need E. B. H.
 
　　cut on all the trees and railings to remind me of my sailor boy'; andMrs Jo took the seat nearest the blue figure astride the balustrade,not quite sure how to begin the little sermon she wanted to preach.
 
　　'Well, you don't pipe your eye and look squally when I sheer off asyou used to, and that's a comfort. I like to leave port in fairweather and have a jolly send-off all round. Specially this time, forit will be a year or more before we drop anchor here again,' answeredEmil, pushing his cap back, and glancing about him as if he loved oldPlum and would be sorry never to see it any more.
 
　　'You have salt water enough without my adding to it. I'm going to bequite a Spartan mother, and send my sons to battle with no wailing,only the command:
 
　　"With your shield or on it",' said Mrs Jo cheerfully, adding after apause: 'I often wish I could go too, and some day I will, when youare captain and have a ship of your own--as I've no doubt you willbefore long, with Uncle Herman to push you on.'
 
　　'When I do I'll christen her the Jolly Jo and take you as first mate.
 
　　It would be regular larks to have you aboard, and I'd be a proud manto carry you round the world you've wanted to see so long and nevercould,' answered Emil, caught at once by this splendid vision.
 
　　'I'll make my first voyage with you and enjoy myself immensely inspite of seasickness and all the stormy winds that blow. I've alwaysthought I'd like to see a wreck, a nice safe one with all saved aftergreat danger and heroic deeds, while we clung like Mr Pillicoddy tomain-top jibs and lee scuppers.'
 
　　'No wrecks yet, ma'am, but we'll try to accommodate customers.
 
　　Captain says I'm a lucky dog and bring fair weather, so we'll savethe dirty weather for you if you want it,' laughed Emil, digging atthe ship in full sail which he was adding to his design.
 
　　'Thanks, I hope you will. This long voyage will give you newexperiences, and being an officer, you will have new duties andresponsibilities. Are you ready for them? You take everything sogaily, I've been wondering if you realized that now you will have notonly to obey but to command also, and power is a dangerous thing. Becareful that you don't abuse it or let it make a tyrant of you.'
 
　　'Right you are, ma'am. I've seen plenty of that, and have got mybearings pretty well, I guess. I shan't have very wide swing withPeters over me, but I'll see that the boys don't get abused when he'sbowsed up his jib. No right to speak before, but now I won't standit.'
 
　　'That sounds mysteriously awful; could I ask what nautical torture"bowsing jibs" is?' asked Mrs Jo, in a tone of deep interest.
 
　　'Getting drunk. Peters can hold more grog than any man I ever saw; hekeeps right side up, but is as savage as a norther, and makes thingslively all round. I've seen him knock a fellow down with a belayingpin, and couldn't lend a hand. Better luck now, I hope.' And Emilfrowned as if he already trod the quarter-deck, lord of all hesurveyed.
 
　　'Don't get into trouble, for even Uncle Herman's favour won't coverinsubordination, you know. You have proved yourself a good sailor;now be a good officer, which is a harder thing, I fancy. It takes afine character to rule justly and kindly; you will have to put byyour boyish ways and remember your dignity. That will be excellenttraining for you, Emil, and sober you down a bit. No more skylarkingexcept here, so mind your ways, and do honour to your buttons,' saidMrs Jo, tapping one of the very bright brass ones that ornamented thenew suit Emil was so proud of.
 
　　'I'll do my best. I know my time for skirmshander (chaff) is over,and I must steer a straighter course; but don't you fear, Jack ashoreis a very different craft from what he is with blue water under hiskeel. I had a long talk with Uncle last night and got my orders; Iwon't forget 'em nor all I owe him. As for you, I'll name my firstship as I say, and have your bust for the figurehead, see if Idon't,' and Emil gave his aunt a hearty kiss to seal the vow, whichproceeding much amused Nat, playing softly in the porch of theDovecote.
 
　　'You do me proud, Captain. But, dear, I want to say one thing andthen I'm done; for you don't need much advice of mine after my goodman has spoken. I read somewhere that every inch of rope used in theBritish Navy has a strand of red in it, so that wherever a bit of itis found it is known. That is the text of my little sermon to you.
 
　　Virtue, which means honour, honesty, courage, and all that makescharacter, is the red thread that marks a good man wherever he is.
 
　　Keep that always and everywhere, so that even if wrecked bymisfortune, that sign shall still be found and recognized. Yours is arough life, and your mates not all we could wish, but you can be agentleman in the true sense of the word; and no matter what happensto your body, keep your soul clean, your heart true to those who loveyou, and do your duty to the end.'
 
　　As she spoke Emil had risen and stood listening with his cap off anda grave, bright look as if taking orders from a superior officer;when she ended, he answered briefly, but heartily:
 
　　'Please God, I will!'
 
　　'That's all; I have little fear for you, but one never knows when orhow the weak moment may come, and sometimes a chance word helps us,as so many my dear mother spoke come back to me now for my owncomfort and the guidance of my boys,' said Mrs Jo, rising; for thewords had been said and no more were needed.
 
　　'I've stored 'em up and know where to find 'em when wanted. Often andoften in my watch I've seen old Plum, and heard you and Uncle talkingso plainly, I'd have sworn I was here. It is a rough life, Aunty, buta wholesome one if a fellow loves it as I do, and has an anchor towindward as I have. Don't worry about me, and I'll come home nextyear with a chest of tea that will cheer your heart and give youideas enough for a dozen novels. Going below? All right, steady inthe gangway! I'll be along by the time you've got out the cake-box.
 
　　Last chance for a good old lunch ashore.'
 
　　Mrs Jo descended laughing, and Emil finished his ship whistlingcheerfully, neither dreaming when and where this little chat on thehouse-top would return to the memory of one of them.
 
　　Dan was harder to catch, and not until evening did a quiet momentcome in that busy family; when, while the rest were roaming about,Mrs Jo sat down to read in the study, and presently Dan looked in atthe window.
 
　　'Come and rest after your long tramp; you must be tired,' she called,with an inviting nod towards the big sofa where so many boys hadreposed--as much as that active animal ever does.
 
　　'Afraid I shall disturb you'; but Dan looked as if he wanted to stayhis restless feet somewhere.
 
　　'Not a bit; I'm always ready to talk, shouldn't be a woman if I werenot,' laughed Mrs Jo, as Dan swung himself in and sat down with anair of contentment very pleasant to see.
 
　　'Last day is over, yet somehow I don't seem to hanker to be off.
 
　　Generally, I'm rather anxious to cut loose after a short stop. Odd,ain't it?' asked Dan, gravely picking grass and leaves out of hishair and beard; for he had been lying on the grass, thinking manythoughts in the quiet summer night.
 
　　'Not at all; you are beginning to get civilized. It's a good sign,and I'm glad to see it,' answered Mrs Jo promptly. 'You've had yourswing, and want a change. Hope the farming will give it to you,though helping the Indians pleases me more: it is so much better towork for others than for one's self alone.'
 
　　'So 'tis,' assented Dan heartily. 'I seem to want to root somewhereand have folks of my own to take care of. Tired of my own company, Isuppose, now I've seen so much better. I'm a rough, ignorant lot, andI've been thinking maybe I've missed it loafing round creation,instead of going in for education as the other chaps did. Hey?'
 
　　He looked anxiously at Mrs Jo; and she tried to hide the surprisethis new outburst caused her; for till now Dan had scorned books andgloried in his freedom.
 
　　'No; I don't think so in your case. So far I'm sure the free life wasbest. Now that you are a man you can control that lawless naturebetter; but as a boy only great activity and much adventure couldkeep you out of mischief. Time is taming my colt, you see, and Ishall yet be proud of him, whether he makes a pack-horse of himselfto carry help to the starving or goes to ploughing as Pegasus did.'
 
　　Dan liked the comparison, and smiled as he lounged in thesofa-corner, with the new thoughtfulness in his eyes.
 
　　'Glad you think so. The fact is it's going to take a heap of tamingto make me go well in harness anywhere. I want to, and I try now andthen, but always kick over the traces and run away. No lives lostyet; but I shouldn't wonder if there was some time, and a generalsmash-up.'
 
　　'Why, Dan, did you have any dangerous adventures during this lastabsence? I fancied so, but didn't ask before, knowing you'd tell meif I could help in any way. Can I?' And Mrs Jo looked anxiously athim; for a sudden lowering expression had come into his face, and heleaned forward as if to hide it.
 
　　'Nothing very bad; but 'Frisco isn't just a heaven on earth, you know,and it's harder to be a saint there than here,' he answered slowly;then, as if he had made up his mind to ''fess', as the children usedto say, he sat up, and added rapidly, in a half-defiant,half-shamefaced way, 'I tried gambling, and it wasn't good for me.'
 
　　'Was that how you made your money?'
 
　　'Not a penny of it! That's all honest, if speculation isn't a biggersort of gambling. I won a lot; but I lost or gave it away, and cutthe whole concern before it got the better of me.'
 
　　'Thank heaven for that! Don't try it again; it may have the terriblefascination for you it has for so many. Keep to your mountains andprairies, and shun cities, if these things tempt you, Dan. Betterlose your life than your soul, and one such passion leads to worsesins, as you know better than I.'
 
　　Dan nodded, and seeing how troubled she was, said, in a lighter tone,though still the shadow of that past experience remained:
 
　　'Don't be scared; I'm all right now; and a burnt dog dreads the fire.
 
　　I don't drink, or do the things you dread; don't care for 'em; but Iget excited, and then this devilish temper of mine is more than I canmanage. Fighting a moose or a buffalo is all right; but when youpitch into a man, no matter how great a scamp he is, you've got tolook out. I shall kill someone some day; that's all I'm afraid of. Ido hate a sneak!' And Dan brought his fist down on the table with ablow that made the lamp totter and the books skip.
 
　　'That always was your trial, Dan, and I can sympathize with you; forI've been trying to govern my own temper all my life, and haven'tlearnt yet,' said Mrs Jo, with a sigh. 'For heaven's sake, guard yourdemon well, and don't let a moment's fury ruin all your life. As Isaid to Nat, watch and pray, my dear boy. There is no other help orhope for human weakness but God's love and patience.'
 
　　Tears were in Mrs Jo's eyes as she spoke; for she felt this deeply,and knew how hard a task it is to rule these bosom sins of ours. Danlooked touched, also uncomfortable, as he always did when religion ofany sort was mentioned, though he had a simple creed of his own, andtried to live up to it in his blind way.
 
　　'I don't do much praying; don't seem to come handy to me; but I canwatch like a redskin, only it's easier to mount guard over a lurkinggrizzly than my own cursed temper. It's that I'm afraid of, if Isettle down. I can get on with wild beasts first-rate; but men rileme awfully, and I can't take it out in a free fight, as I can with abear or a wolf. Guess I'd better head for the Rockies, and stay therea spell longer--till I'm tame enough for decent folks, if I ever am.'
 
　　And Dan leaned his rough head on his hands in a despondent attitude.
 
　　'Try my sort of help, and don't give up. Read more, study a little,and try to meet a better class of people, who won't "rile", butsoothe and strengthen you. We don't make you savage, I'm sure; foryou have been as meek as a lamb, and made us very happy.'
 
　　'Glad of it; but I've felt like a hawk in a hen-house all the same,and wanted to pounce and tear more than once. Not so much as I used,though,' added Dan, after a short laugh at Mrs Jo's surprised face.
 
　　'I'll try your plan, and keep good company this bout if I can; but aman can't pick and choose, knocking about as I do.'
 
　　'Yes, you can this time; for you are going on a peaceful errand andcan keep clear of temptation if you try. Take some books and read;that's an immense help; and books are always good company if you havethe right sort. Let me pick out some for you.' And Mrs Jo made abee-line to the well-laden shelves, which were the joy of her heartand the comfort of her life.
 
　　'Give me travels and stories, please; don't want any pious works,can't seem to relish 'em, and won't pretend I do,' said Dan,following to look over her head with small favour at the long linesof well-worn volumes.
 
　　Mrs Jo turned short round, and putting a hand on either broadshoulder, looked him in the eye, saying soberly:
 
　　'Now, Dan, see here; never sneer at good things or pretend to beworse than you are. Don't let false shame make you neglect thereligion without which no man can live. You needn't talk about it ifyou don't like, but don't shut your heart to it in whatever shape itcomes. Nature is your God now; she has done much for you; let her domore, and lead you to know and love a wiser and more tender teacher,friend, and comforter than she can ever be. That is your only hope;don't throw it away, and waste time; for sooner or later you willfeel the need of Him, and He will come to you and hold you up whenall other help fails.'
 
　　Dan stood motionless, and let her read in his softened eyes the dumbdesire that lived in his heart, though he had no words to tell it,and only permitted her to catch a glimpse of the divine spark whichsmoulders or burns clearly in every human soul. He did not speak; andglad to be spared some answer which should belie his real feelings,Mrs Jo hastened to say, with her most motherly smile:
 
　　'I saw in your room the little Bible I gave you long ago; it was wellworn outside, but fresh within, as if not much read. Will you promiseme to read a little once a week, dear, for my sake? Sunday is a quietday everywhere, and this book is never old nor out of place. Beginwith the stories you used to love when I told them to you boys. Davidwas your favourite, you remember? Read him again; he'll suit you evenbetter now, and you'll find his sins and repentance useful readingtill you come to the life and work of a diviner example than he. Youwill do it, for love of mother Bhaer, who always loved her"firebrand" and hoped to save him?'
 
　　'I will,' answered Dan, with a sudden brightening of face that waslike a sunburst through a cloud, full of promise though soshort-lived and rare.
 
　　Mrs Jo turned at once to the books and began to talk of them, knowingwell that Dan would not hear any more just then. He seemed relieved;for it was always hard for him to show his inner self, and he tookpride in hiding it as an Indian does in concealing pain or fear.
 
　　'Hallo, here's old Sintram! I remember him; used to like him and histantrums, and read about 'em to Ted. There he is riding ahead withDeath and the Devil alongside.'
 
　　As Dan looked at the little picture of the young man with horse andhound going bravely up the rocky defile, accompanied by thecompanions who ride beside most men through this world, a curiousimpulse made Mrs Jo say quickly:
 
　　'That's you, Dan, just you at this time! Danger and sin are near youin the life you lead; moods and passions torment you; the bad fatherleft you to fight alone, and the wild spirit drives you to wander upand down the world looking for peace and self-control. Even thehorse and hound are there, your Octoo and Don, faithful friends,unscared by the strange mates that go with you. You have not got thearmour yet, but I'm trying to show you where to find it. Rememberthe mother Sintram loved and longed to find, and did find when hisbattle was bravely fought, his reward well earned? You can recollectyour mother; and I have always felt that all the good qualities youpossess come from her. Act out the beautiful old story in this as inthe other parts, and try to give her back a son to be proud of.'
 
　　Quite carried away by the likeness of the quaint tale to Dan's lifeand needs, Mrs Jo went on pointing to the various pictures whichillustrated it, and when she looked up was surprised to see howstruck and interested he seemed to be. Like all people of histemperament he was very impressionable, and his life among huntersand Indians had made him superstitious; he believed in dreams, likedweird tales, and whatever appealed to the eye or mind, vividlyimpressed him more than the wisest words. The story of poor,tormented Sintram came back clearly as he looked and listened,symbolizing his secret trials even more truly than Mrs Jo knew; andjust at that moment this had an effect upon him that never wasforgotten. But all he said was:
 
　　'Small chance of that. I don't take much stock in the idea of meetingfolks in heaven. Guess mother won't remember the poor little brat sheleft so long ago; why should she?'
 
　　'Because true mothers never forget their children; and I know she wasone, from the fact that she ran away from the cruel husband, to saveher little son from bad influences. Had she lived, life would havebeen happier for you, with this tender friend to help and comfortyou. Never forget that she risked everything for your sake, and don'tlet it be in vain.'
 
　　Mrs Jo spoke very earnestly, knowing that this was the one sweetmemory of Dan's early life, and glad to have recalled it at thismoment; for suddenly a great tear splashed down on the page whereSintram kneels at his mother's feet, wounded, but victorious over sinand death. She looked up, well pleased to have touched Dan to theheart's core, as that drop proved; but a sweep of the arm brushedaway the tell-tale, and his beard hid the mate to it, as he shut thebook, saying with a suppressed quiver in his strong voice:
 
　　'I'll keep this, if nobody wants it. I'll read it over, and maybe itwill do me good. I'd like to meet her anywhere, but don't believe Iever shall.'
 
　　'Keep it and welcome. My mother gave it to me; and when you read ittry to believe that neither of your mothers will ever forget you.'
 
　　Mrs Jo gave the book with a caress; and simply saying: 'Thanks; goodnight,' Dan thrust it into his pocket, and walked straight away tothe river to recover from this unwonted mood of tenderness andconfidence.
 
　　Next day the travellers were off. All were in good spirits, and acloud of handkerchiefs whitened the air as they drove away in the oldbus, waving their hats to everyone and kissing their hands,especially to mother Bhaer, who said in her prophetic tone as shewiped her eyes, when the familiar rumble died away:
 
　　'I have a feeling that something is going to happen to some of them,and they will never come back to me, or come back changed. Well, Ican only say, God be with my boys!'
 
　　And He was.
Chapter 7 The Lion and the Lamb
 When the boys were gone a lull fell upon Plumfield, and the familyscattered to various places for brief outings, as August had come andall felt the need of change. The Professor took Mrs Jo to themountains. The Laurences were at the seashore, and there Meg's familyand the Bhaer boys took turns to visit, as someone must always be athome to keep things in order.
 
　　Mrs Meg, with Daisy, was in office when the events occurred which weare about to relate. Rob and Ted were just up from Rocky Nook, andNan was passing a week with her friend as the only relaxation sheallowed herself. Demi was off on a run with Tom, so Rob was man ofthe house, with old Silas as general overseer. The sea air seemed tohave gone to Ted's head, for he was unusually freakish, and led hisgentle aunt and poor Rob a life of it with his pranks. Octoo was wornout with the wild rides he took, and Don openly rebelled when orderedto leap and show off his accomplishments; while the girls at collegewere both amused and worried by the ghosts who haunted the grounds atnight, the unearthly melodies that disturbed their studious hours,and the hairbreadth escapes of this restless boy by flood and fieldand fire. Something happened at length which effectually sobered Tedand made a lasting impression on both the boys; for sudden danger anda haunting fear turned the Lion into a lamb and the Lamb into a lion,as far as courage went.
 
　　On the first of September--the boys never forgot the date--after apleasant tramp and good luck with their fishing, the brothers werelounging in the barn; for Daisy had company, and the lads kept out ofthe way.
 
　　'I tell you what it is, Bobby, that dog is sick. He won't play, noreat, nor drink, and acts queerly. Dan will kill us if anythinghappens to him,' said Ted, looking at Don, who lay near his kennelresting a moment after one of the restless wanderings which kept himvibrating between the door of Dan's room and the shady corner of theyard, where his master had settled him with an old cap to guard tillhe came back.
 
　　'It's the hot weather, perhaps. But I sometimes think he's pining forDan. Dogs do, you know, and the poor fellow has been low in his mindever since the boys went. Maybe something has happened to Dan. Donhowled last night and can't rest. I've heard of such things,'
 
　　answered Rob thoughtfully.
 
　　'Pooh! he can't know. He's cross. I'll stir him up and take him for arun. Always makes me feel better. Hi, boy! wake up and be jolly'; andTed snapped his fingers at the dog, who only looked at him with grimindifference.
 
　　'Better let him alone. If he isn't right tomorrow, we'll take him toDr Watkins and see what he says.' And Rob went on watching theswallows as he lay in the hay polishing up some Latin verses he hadmade.
 
　　The spirit of perversity entered into Ted, and merely because he wastold not to tease Don he went on doing it, pretending that it was forthe dog's good. Don took no heed of his pats, commands, reproaches,or insults, till Ted's patience gave out; and seeing a convenientswitch near by he could not resist the temptation to conquer thegreat hound by force, since gentleness failed to win obedience. Hehad the wisdom to chain Don up first; for a blow from any hand buthis master's made him savage, and Ted had more than once tried theexperiment, as the dog remembered. This indignity roused Don and hesat up with a growl. Rob heard it, and seeing Ted raise the switch,ran to interfere, exclaiming:
 
　　'Don't touch him! Dan forbade it! Leave the poor thing in peace; Iwon't allow it.'
 
　　Rob seldom commanded, but when he did Master Ted had to give in. Histemper was up, and Rob's masterful tone made it impossible to resistone cut at the rebellious dog before he submitted. Only a singleblow, but it was a costly one; for as it fell, the dog sprang at Tedwith a snarl, and Rob, rushing between the two, felt the sharp teethpierce his leg. A word made Don let go and drop remorsefully at Rob'sfeet, for he loved him and was evidently sorry to have hurt hisfriend by mistake. With a forgiving pat Rob left him, to limp to thebarn followed by Ted, whose wrath was changed to shame and sorrowwhen he saw the red drops on Rob's sock and the little wounds in hisleg.
 
　　'I'm awfully sorry. Why did you get in the way? Here, wash it up, andI'll get a rag to tie on it,' he said quickly filling a sponge withwater and pulling out a very demoralized handkerchief. Rob usuallymade light of his own mishaps and was over ready to forgive if otherswere to blame; but now he sat quite still, looking at the purplemarks with such a strange expression on his white face that Ted wastroubled, though he added with a laugh: 'Why, you're not afraid of alittle dig like that, are you, Bobby?'
 
　　'I am afraid of hydrophobia. But if Don is mad I'd rather be the oneto have it,' answered Rob, with a smile and a shiver.
 
　　At that dreadful word Ted turned whiter than his brother, and,dropping sponge and handkerchief, stared at him with a frightenedface, whispering in a tone of despair:
 
　　'Oh, Rob, don't say it! What shall we do, what shall we do?'
 
　　'Call Nan; she will know. Don't scare Aunty, or tell a soul but Nan;she's on the back piazza; get her out here as quick as you can. I'llwash it till she comes. Maybe it's nothing; don't look so staggered,Ted. I only thought it might be, as Don is queer.'
 
　　Rob tried to speak bravely; but Ted's long legs felt strangely weakas he hurried away, and it was lucky he met no one, for his facewould have betrayed him. Nan was swinging luxuriously in a hammock,amusing herself with a lively treatise on croup, when an agitated boysuddenly clutched her, whispering, as he nearly pulled her overboard:
 
　　'Come to Rob in the barn! Don's mad and he's bitten him, and we don'tknow what to do; it's all my fault; no one must know. Oh, do bequick!'
 
　　Nan was on her feet at once, startled, but with her wits about her,and both were off without more words as they dodged round the housewhere unconscious Daisy chatted with her friends in the parlour andAunt Meg peacefully took her afternoon nap upstairs.
 
　　Rob was braced up, and was as calm and steady as ever when they foundhim in the harness-room, whither he had wisely retired, to escapeobservation. The story was soon told, and after a look at Don, now inhis kennel, sad and surly, Nan said slowly, with her eye on the fullwater-pan:
 
　　'Rob, there is one thing to do for the sake of safety, and it must bedone at once. We can't wait to see if Don is--sick--or to go for adoctor. I can do it, and I will; but it is very painful, and I hateto hurt you, dear.'
 
　　A most unprofessional quiver got into Nan's voice as she spoke, andher keen eyes dimmed as she looked at the two anxious young facesturned so confidingly to her for help.
 
　　'I know, burn it; well, do it, please; I can bear it. But Ted bettergo away,' said Rob, with a firm setting of his lips, and a nod at hisafflicted brother.
 
　　'I won't stir; I can stand it if he can, only it ought to be me!'
 
　　cried Ted, with a desperate effort not to cry, so full of grief andfear and shame was he that it seemed as if he couldn't bear it like aman.
 
　　'He'd better stay and help; do him good,' answeredNan sternly, because, her heart was faint within her, knowing as shedid all that might be in store for both poor boys. 'Keep quiet; I'llbe back in a minute,' she added, going towards the house, while herquick mind hastily planned what was best to be done.
 
　　It was ironing day, and a hot fire still burned in the empty kitchen,for the maids were upstairs resting. Nan put a slender poker to heat,and as she sat waiting for it, covered her face with her hands,asking help in this sudden need for strength, courage, and wisdom;for there was no one else to call upon, and young as she was, sheknew what was to be done if she only had the nerve to do it. Anyother patient would have been calmly interesting, but dear, goodRobin, his father's pride, his mother's comfort, everyone's favouriteand friend, that he should be in danger was very terrible; and a fewhot tears dropped on the well-scoured table as Nan tried to calm hertrouble by remembering how very likely it was to be all a mistake, anatural but vain alarm.
 
　　'I must make light of it, or the boys will break down, and then therewill be a panic. Why afflict and frighten everyone when all is indoubt? I won't. I'll take Rob to Dr Morrison at once, and have thedog man see Don. Then, having done all we can, we will either laughat our scare--if it is one--or be ready for whatever comes. Now formy poor boy.'
 
　　Armed with the red-hot poker, a pitcher of ice-water, and severalhandkerchiefs from the clotheshorse, Nan went back to the barn readyto do her best in this her most serious 'emergency case'. The boyssat like statues, one of despair, the other of resignation; and ittook all Nan's boasted nerve to do her work quickly and well.
 
　　'Now, Rob, only a minute, then we are safe. Stand by, Ted; he may bea bit faintish.'
 
　　Rob shut his eyes, clinched his hands, and sat like a hero. Ted kneltbeside him, white as a sheet, and as weak as a girl; for the pangs ofremorse were rending him, and his heart failed at the thought of allthis pain because of his wilfulness. It was all over in a moment,with only one little groan; but when Nan looked to her assistant tohand the water, poor Ted needed it the most, for he had fainted away,and lay on the floor in a pathetic heap of arms and legs.
 
　　Rob laughed, and, cheered by that unexpected sound, Nan bound up thewound with hands that never trembled, though great drops stood on herforehead; and she shared the water with patient number one before sheturned to patient number two. Ted was much ashamed, and quite brokenin spirit, when he found how he had failed at the critical moment,and begged them not to tell, as he really could not help it; then byway of finishing his utter humiliation, a burst of hysterical tearsdisgraced his manly soul, and did him a world of good.
 
　　'Never mind, never mind, we are all right now, and no one need be thewiser,' said Nan briskly, as poor Ted hiccoughed on Rob's shoulder,laughing and crying in the most tempestuous manner, while his brothersoothed him, and the young doctor fanned both with Silas's old strawhat.
 
　　'Now, boys, listen to me and remember what I say. We won't alarmanyone yet, for I've made up my mind our scare is all nonsense. Donwas out lapping the water as I came by, and I don't believe he's madany more than I am. Still, to ease our minds and compose our spirits,and get our guilty faces out of sight for a while, I think we hadbetter drive into town to my old friend Dr Morrison, and let him justtake a look at my work, and give us some quieting little dose; for weare all rather shaken by this flurry. Sit still, Rob; and Ted, youharness up while I run and get my hat and tell Aunty to excuse me toDaisy. I don't know those Penniman girls, and she will be glad of ourroom at tea, and we'll have a cosy bite at my house, and come home asgay as larks.'
 
　　Nan talked on as a vent for the hidden emotions which professionalpride would not allow her to show, and the boys approved her plan atonce; for action is always easier than quiet waiting. Ted wentstaggering away to wash his face at the pump, and rub some colourinto his cheeks before he harnessed the horse. Rob lay tranquilly onthe hay, looking up at the swallows again as he lived through somevery memorable moments. Boy as he was, the thought of death comingsuddenly to him, and in this way, might well make him sober; for itis a very solemn thing to be arrested in the midst of busy life bythe possibility of the great change. There were no sins to berepented of, few faults, and many happy, dutiful years to rememberwith infinite comfort. So Rob had no fears to daunt him, no regretsto sadden, and best of all, a very strong and simple piety to sustainand cheer him.
 
　　'Mein Vater,' was his first thought; for Rob was very near theProfessor's heart, and the loss of his eldest would have been abitter blow. These words, whispered with a tremble of the lips thathad been so firm when the hot iron burned, recalled that other Fatherwho is always near, always tender and helpful; and, folding hishands, Rob said the heartiest little prayer he ever prayed, there onthe hay, to the soft twitter of the brooding birds. It did him good;and wisely laying all his fear and doubt and trouble in God's hand,the boy felt ready for whatever was to come, and from that hour keptsteadily before him the one duty that was plain--to be brave andcheerful, keep silent, and hope for the best.
 
　　Nan stole her hat, and left a note on Daisy's pincushion, saying shehad taken the boys to drive, and all would be out of the way tillafter tea. Then she hurried back and found her patients much better,the one for work, the other for rest. In they got, and, putting Robon the back seat with his leg up drove away, looking as gay andcare-free as if nothing had happened.
 
　　Dr Morrison made light of the affair, but told Nan she had doneright; and as the much-relieved lads went downstairs, he added in awhisper: 'Send the dog off for a while, and keep your eye on the boy.
 
　　Don't let him know it, and report to me if anything seems wrong. Onenever knows in these cases. No harm to be careful.'
 
　　Nan nodded, and feeling much relieved now that the responsibility wasoff her shoulders, took the lads to Dr Watkins, who promised to comeout later and examine Don. A merry tea at Nan's house, which was keptopen for her all summer, did them good, and by the time they got homein the cool of the evening no sign of the panic remained but Ted'sheavy eyes, and a slight limp when Rob walked. As the guests werestill chattering on the front piazza they retired to the back, andTed soothed his remorseful soul by swinging Rob in the hammock, whileNan told stories till the dog man arrived.
 
　　He said Don was a little under the weather, but no more mad than thegrey kitten that purred round his legs while the examination went on.
 
　　'He wants his master, and feels the heat. Fed too well, perhaps. I'llkeep him a few weeks and send him home all right,' said Dr Watkins,as Don laid his great head in his hand, and kept his intelligent eyeson his face, evidently feeling that this man understood his trials,and knew what to do for him.
 
　　So Don departed without a murmur, and our three conspirators tookcounsel together how to spare the family all anxiety, and give Robthe rest his leg demanded. Fortunately, he always spent many hours inhis little study, so he could lie on the sofa with a book in his handas long as he liked, without exciting any remark. Being of a quiettemperament, he did not worry himself or Nan with useless fears, butbelieved what was told him, and dismissing all dark possibilities,went cheerfully on his way, soon recovering from the shock of what hecalled 'our scare'.
 
　　But excitable Ted was harder to manage, and it took all Nan's wit andwisdom to keep him from betraying the secret; for it was best to saynothing and spare all discussion of the subject for Rob's sake. Ted'sremorse preyed upon him, and having no 'Mum' to confide in, he wasvery miserable. By day he devoted himself to Rob, waiting on him,talking to him, gazing anxiously at him, and worrying the good fellowvery much; though he wouldn't own it, since Ted found comfort in it.
 
　　But at night, when all was quiet, Ted's lively imagination and heavyheart got the better of him, and kept him awake, or set him walkingin his sleep. Nan had her eye on him, and more than once administereda little dose to give him a rest, read to him, scolded him, and whenshe caught him haunting the house in the watches of the night,threatened to lock him up if he did not stay in his bed. This woreoff after a while; but a change came over the freakish boy, andeveryone observed it, even before his mother returned to ask whatthey had done to quench the Lion's spirits. He was gay, but not soheedless; and often when the old wilfulness beset him, he would checkit sharply, look at Rob, and give up, or stalk away to have his sulkout alone. He no longer made fun of his brother's old-fashioned waysand bookish tastes, but treated him with a new and very markedrespect, which touched and pleased modest Rob, and much amazed allobservers. It seemed as if he felt that he owed him reparation forthe foolish act that might have cost him his life; and love beingstronger than will, Ted forgot his pride, and paid his debt like anhonest boy.
 
　　'I don't understand it,' said Mrs Jo, after a week of home life, muchimpressed by the good behaviour of her younger son. 'Ted is such asaint, I'm afraid we are going to lose him. Is it Meg's sweetinfluence, or Daisy's fine cooking, or the pellets I catch Nan givinghim on the sly? Some witchcraft has been at work during my absence,and this will-o'-the-wisp is so amiable, quiet, and obedient, I don'tknow him.'
 
　　'He is growing up, heart's-dearest, and being a precocious plant, hebegins to bloom early. I also see a change in my Robchen. He is moremanly and serious than ever, and is seldom far from me, as if hislove for the old papa was growing with his growth. Our boys willoften surprise us in this way, Jo, and we can only rejoice over themand leave them to become what Gott pleases.'
 
　　As the Professor spoke, his eyes rested proudly on the brothers, whocame walking up the steps together, Ted's arm over Rob's shoulder ashe listened attentively to some geological remarks Rob was making ona stone he held. Usually, Ted made fun of such tastes, and loved tolay boulders in the student's path, put brickbats under his pillow,gravel in his shoes, or send parcels of dirt by express to 'Prof. R.
 
　　M. Bhaer'. Lately, he had treated Rob's hobbies respectfully, and hadbegun to appreciate the good qualities of this quiet brother whom hehad always loved but rather undervalued, till his courage under firewon Ted's admiration, and made it impossible to forget a fault, theconsequences of which might have been so terrible. The leg was stilllame, though doing well, and Ted was always offering an arm assupport, gazing anxiously at his brother, and trying to guess hiswants; for regret was still keen in Ted's soul, and Rob's forgivenessonly made it deeper. A fortunate slip on the stairs gave Rob anexcuse for limping, and no one but Nan and Ted saw the wound; so thesecret was safe up to this time.
 
　　'We are talking about you, my lads. Come in and tell us what goodfairy has been at work while we were gone. Or is it because absencesharpens our eyes, that we find such pleasant changes when we comeback?' said Mrs Jo, patting the sofa on either side, while theProfessor forgot his piles of letters to admire the pleasing prospectof his wife in a bower of arms, as the boys sat down beside her,smiling affectionately, but feeling a little guilty; for till now'Mum' and 'Vater' knew every event in their boyish lives.
 
　　'Oh, it's only because Bobby and I have been alone so much; we aresort of twins. I stir him up a bit, and he steadies me a great deal.
 
　　You and father do the same, you know. Nice plan. I like it'; and Tedfelt that he had settled the matter capitally.
 
　　'Mother won't thank you for comparing yourself to her, Ted. I'mflattered at being like father in any way. I try to be,' answeredRob, as they laughed at Ted's compliment.
 
　　'I do thank him, for it's true; and if you, Robin, do half as muchfor your brother as Papa has for me, your life won't be a failure,'
 
　　said Mrs Jo heartily. 'I'm very glad to see you helping one another.
 
　　It's the right way, and we can't begin too soon to try to understandthe needs, virtues, and failings of those nearest us. Love should notmake us blind to faults, nor familiarity make us too ready to blamethe shortcomings we see. So work away, my sonnies, and give us moresurprises of this sort as often as you like.'
 
　　'The liebe Mutter has said all. I too am well pleased at the friendlybrother-warmth I find. It is good for everyone; long may it last!'
 
　　and Professor Bhaer nodded at the boys, who looked gratified, butrather at a loss how to respond to these flattering remarks.
 
　　Rob wisely kept silent, fearing to say too much; but Ted burst out,finding it impossible to help telling something:
 
　　'The fact is I've been finding out what a brave good chap Bobby is,and I'm trying to make up for all the bother I've been to him. I knewhe was awfully wise, but I thought him rather soft, because he likedbooks better than larks, and was always fussing about his conscience.
 
　　But I begin to see that it isn't the fellows who talk the loudest andshow off best that are the manliest. No, sir! quiet old Bob is a heroand a trump, and I'm proud of him; so would you be if you knew allabout it.'
 
　　Here a look from Rob brought Ted up with a round turn; he stoppedshort, grew red, and clapped his hand on his mouth in dismay.
 
　　'Well, are we not to "know all about it"?' asked Mrs Jo quickly; forher sharp eye saw signs of danger and her maternal heart felt thatsomething had come between her and her sons. 'Boys,' she went onsolemnly, 'I suspect that the change we talk about is not altogetherthe effect of growing up, as we say. It strikes me that Ted has beenin mischief and Rob has got him out of some scrape; hence the lovelymood of my bad boy and the sober one of my conscientious son, whonever hides anything from his mother.'
 
　　Rob was as red as Ted now, but after a moment's hesitation he lookedup and answered with an air of relief:
 
　　'Yes, mother, that's it; but it's all over and no harm done, and Ithink we'd better let it be, for a while at least. I did feel guiltyto keep anything from you, but now you know so much I shall not worryand you needn't either. Ted's sorry, I don't mind, and it has done usboth good.'
 
　　Mrs Jo looked at Ted, who winked hard but bore the look like a man;then she turned to Rob, who smiled at her so cheerfully that she feltreassured; but something in his face struck her, and she saw what itwas that made him seem older, graver, yet more lovable than ever. Itwas the look pain of mind, as well as body, brings, and the patienceof a sweet submission to some inevitable trial. Like a flash sheguessed that some danger had been near her boy, and the glances shehad caught between the two lads and Nan confirmed her fears.
 
　　'Rob, dear, you have been ill, hurt, or seriously troubled by Ted?
 
　　Tell me at once; I will not have any secrets now. Boys sometimessuffer all their lives from neglected accidents or carelessness.
 
　　Fritz, make them speak out!'
 
　　Mr Bhaer put down his papers and came to stand before them, saying ina tone that quieted Mrs Jo, and gave the boys courage:
 
　　'My sons, give us the truth. We can bear it; do not hold it back tospare us. Ted knows we forgive much because we love him, so be frank,all two.'
 
　　Ted instantly dived among the sofa pillows and kept there, with onlya pair of scarlet ears visible, while Rob in a few words told thelittle story, truthfully, but as gently as he could, hastening to addthe comfortable assurance that Don was not mad, the wound nearlywell, and no danger would ever come of it.
 
　　But Mrs Jo grew so pale he had to put his arms about her, and hisfather turned and walked away, exclaiming: 'Ach Himmel!' in a tone ofsuch mingled pain, relief, and gratitude, that Ted pulled an extrapillow over his head to smother the sound. They were all right in aminute; but such news is always a shock, even if the peril is past,and Mrs Jo hugged her boy close till his father came and took himaway, saying with a strong shake of both hands and a quiver in hisvoice:
 
　　'To be in danger of one's life tries a man's mettle, and you bear itwell; but I cannot spare my good boy yet; thank Gott, we keep himsafe!'
 
　　A smothered sound, between a choke and a groan, came from under thepillows, and the writhing of Ted's long legs so plainly expresseddespair that his mother relented towards him, and burrowing till shefound a tousled yellow head, pulled it out and smoothed it,exclaiming with an irrepressible laugh, though her cheeks were wetwith tears:
 
　　'Come and be forgiven, poor sinner! I know you have suffered enough,and I won't say a word; only if harm had come to Rob you would havemade me more miserable than yourself. Oh, Teddy, Teddy, do try tocure that wilful spirit of yours before it is too late!'
 
　　'Oh, Mum, I do try! I never can forget this--I hope it's cured me; ifit hasn't, I am afraid I ain't worth saving,' answered Ted, pullinghis own hair as the only way of expressing his deep remorse.
 
　　'Yes, you are, my dear; I felt just so at fifteen when Amy was nearlydrowned, and Marmee helped me as I'll help you. Come to me, Teddy,when the evil one gets hold of you, and together we'll rout him. Ah,me! I've had many a tussle with that old Apollyon, and often gotworsted, but not always. Come under my shield, and we'll fight tillwe win.'
 
　　No one spoke for a minute as Ted and his mother laughed and cried inone handkerchief, and Rob stood with his father's arm round him sohappy that all was told and forgiven, though never to be forgotten;for such experiences do one good, and knit hearts that love moreclosely together.
 
　　Presently Ted rose straight up and going to his father, said bravelyand humbly:
 
　　'I ought to be punished. Please do it; but first say you forgive me,as Rob does.'
 
　　'Always that, mein Sohn, seventy time seven, if needs be, else I amnot worthy the name you give me. The punishment has come; I can giveno greater. Let it not be in vain. It will not with the help of themother and the All Father. Room here for both, always!'
 
　　The good Professor opened his arms and embraced his boys like a trueGerman, not ashamed to express by gesture or by word the fatherlyemotions an American would have compressed into a slap on theshoulder and a brief 'All right'.
 
　　Mrs Jo sat and enjoyed the prospect like a romantic soul as she was,and then they had a quiet talk together, saying freely all that wasin their hearts, and finding much comfort in the confidence whichcomes when love casts out fear. It was agreed that nothing be saidexcept to Nan, who was to be thanked and rewarded for her courage,discretion, and fidelity.
 
　　'I always knew that girl had the making of a fine woman in her, andthis proves it. No panics and shrieks and faintings and fuss, butcalm sense and energetic skill. Dear child, what can I give or do toshow my gratitude?' said Mrs Jo enthusiastically.
 
　　'Make Tom clear out and leave her in peace,' suggested Ted, almosthimself again, though a pensive haze still partially obscured hisnative gaiety.
 
　　'Yes, do! he frets her like a mosquito. She forbade him to come outhere while she stayed, and packed him off with Demi. I like old Tom,but he is a regular noodle about Nan,' added Rob, as he went away tohelp his father with the accumulated letters.
 
　　'I'll do it!' said Mrs Jo decidedly. 'That girl's career shall not behampered by a foolish boy's fancy. In a moment of weariness she maygive in, and then it's all over. Wiser women have done so andregretted it all their lives. Nan shall earn her place first, andprove that she can fill it; then she may marry if she likes, and canfind a man worthy of her.'
 
　　But Mrs Jo's help was not needed; for love and gratitude can workmiracles, and when youth, beauty, accident, and photography areadded, success is sure; as was proved in the case of the unsuspectingbut too susceptible Thomas.
Chapter 8 Josie Plays Mermaid
 While the young Bhaers were having serious experiences at home, Josiewas enjoying herself immensely at Rocky Nook; for the Laurences knewhow to make summer idleness both charming and wholesome. Bess wasvery fond of her little cousin; Mrs Amy felt that whether her niecewas an actress or not she must be a gentlewoman, and gave her thesocial training which marks the well-bred woman everywhere; whileUncle Laurie was never happier than when rowing, riding, playing, orlounging with two gay girls beside him. Josie bloomed like a wildflower in this free life, Bess grew rosy, brisk, and merry, and bothwere great favourites with the neighbours, whose villas were by theshore or perched on the cliffs along the pretty bay.
 
　　One crumpled rose-leaf disturbed Josie's peace, one baffled wishfilled her with a longing which became a mania, and kept her asrestless and watchful as a detective with a case to 'work up'. MissCameron, the great actress, had hired one of the villas and retiredthither to rest and 'create' a new part for next season. She saw noone but a friend or two, had a private beach, and was invisibleexcept during her daily drive, or when the opera-glasses of curiousgazers were fixed on a blue figure disporting itself in the sea. TheLaurences knew her, but respected her privacy, and after a call lefther in peace till she expressed a wish for society--a courtesy whichshe remembered and repaid later, as we shall see.
 
　　But Josie was like a thirsty fly buzzing about a sealed honey-pot,for this nearness to her idol was both delightful and maddening. Shepined to see, hear, talk with, and study this great and happy womanwho could thrill thousands by her art, and win friends by her virtue,benevolence, and beauty. This was the sort of actress the girl meantto be, and few could object if the gift was really hers; for thestage needs just such women to purify and elevate the professionwhich should teach as well as amuse. If kindly Miss Cameron had knownwhat passionate love and longing burned in the bosom of the littlegirl whom she idly observed skipping over the rocks, splashing aboutthe beach, or galloping past her gate on a Shetland pony, she wouldhave made her happy by a look or a word. But being tired with herwinter's work and busy with her new part, the lady took no morenotice of this young neighbour than of the sea-gulls in the bay orthe daisies dancing in the fields. Nosegays left on her doorstep,serenades under her garden-wall, and the fixed stare of admiring eyeswere such familiar things that she scarcely minded them; and Josiegrew desperate when all her little attempts failed.
 
　　'I might climb that pine-tree and tumble off on her piazza roof, orget Sheltie to throw me just at her gate and be taken in fainting.
 
　　It's no use to try to drown myself when she is bathing. I can't sink,and she'd only send a man to pull me out. What can I do? I will seeher and tell her my hopes and make her say I can act some day. Mammawould believe her; and if--oh, if she only would let me study withher, what perfect joy that would be!'
 
　　Josie made these remarks one afternoon as she and Bess prepared for aswim, a fishing party having prevented their morning bathe.
 
　　'You must bide your time, dear, and not be so impatient. Papapromised to give you a chance before the season is over, and healways manages things nicely. That will be better than any queerprank of yours,' answered Bess, tying her pretty hair in a white netto match her suit, while Josie made a little lobster of herself inscarlet.
 
　　'I hate to wait; but I suppose I must. Hope she will bathe thisafternoon, though it is low tide. She told Uncle she should have togo in then because in the morning people stared so and went on herbeach. Come and have a good dive from the big rock. No one round butnurses and babies, so we can romp and splash as much as we like.'
 
　　Away they went to have a fine time; for the little bay was free fromother bathers, and the babies greatly admired their aquaticgymnastics, both being expert swimmers.
 
　　As they sat dripping on the big rock Josie suddenly gave a clutchthat nearly sent Bess overboard, as she cried excitedly:
 
　　'There she is! Look! coming to bathe. How splendid! Oh, if she onlywould drown a little and let me save her! or even get her toe nippedby a crab; anything so I could go and speak!'
 
　　'Don't seem to look; she comes to be quiet and enjoy herself.
 
　　Pretend we don't see her, that's only civil,' answered Bess,affecting to be absorbed in a white-winged yacht going by.
 
　　'Let's carelessly float that way as if going for seaweed on therocks. She can't mind if we are flat on our backs, with only ournoses out. Then when we can't help seeing her, we'll swim back as ifanxious to retire. That will impress her, and she may call to thankthe very polite young ladies who respect her wishes,' proposed Josie,whose lively fancy was always planning dramatic situations.
 
　　Just as they were going to slip from their rock, as if Fate relentedat last, Miss Cameron was seen to beckon wildly as she stoodwaist-deep in the water, looking down. She called to her maid, whoseemed searching along the beach for something, and not finding whatshe sought, waved a towel towards the girls as if summoning them tohelp her.
 
　　'Run, fly! she wants us, she wants us!' cried Josie, tumbling intothe water like a very energetic turtle, and swimming away in her beststyle towards this long desired haven of joy. Bess followed moreslowly, and both came panting and smiling up to Miss Cameron, whonever lifted her eyes, but said in that wonderful voice of hers:
 
　　'I've dropped a bracelet. I see it, but can't get it. Will the littleboy find me a long stick? I'll keep my eye on it, so the water shallnot wash it away.'
 
　　'I'll dive for it with pleasure; but I'm not a boy,' answered Josie,laughing as she shook the curly head which at a distance had deceivedthe lady.
 
　　'I beg your pardon. Dive away, child; the sand is covering it fast. Ivalue it very much. Never forgot to take it off before.'
 
　　'I'll get it!' and down went Josie, to come up with a handful ofpebbles, but no bracelet.
 
　　'It's gone; never mind--my fault,' said Miss Cameron, disappointed,but amused at the girl's dismay as she shook the water out of hereyes and gasped bravely:
 
　　'No, it isn't. I'll have it, if I stay down all night!' and with onelong breath Josie dived again, leaving nothing but a pair of agitatedfeet to be seen.
 
　　'I'm afraid she will hurt herself,' said Miss Cameron, looking atBess, whom she recognized by her likeness to her mother.
 
　　'Oh, no; Josie is a little fish. She likes it'; and Bess smiledhappily at this wonderful granting of her cousin's desire.
 
　　'You are Mr Laurence's daughter, I think? How d'ye do, dear? Tellpapa I'm coming to see him soon. Too tired before. Quite savage.
 
　　Better now. Ah! here's our pearl of divers. What luck?' she asked, asthe heels went down and a dripping head came up.
 
　　Josie could only choke and splutter at first, being half strangled;but though her hands had failed again, her courage had not; and witha resolute shake of her wet hair, a bright look at the tall lady, anda series of puffs to fill her lungs, she said calmly:
 
　　'"Never give up" is my motto. I'm going to get it, if I go toLiverpool for it! Now, then!' and down went the mermaid quite out ofsight this time, groping like a real lobster at the bottom of thesea.
 
　　'Plucky little girl! I like that. Who is she?' asked the lady,sitting down on a half-covered stone to watch her diver, since thebracelet was lost sight of.
 
　　Bess told her, adding, with the persuasive smile of her father:
 
　　'Josie longs to be an actress, and has waited for a month to see you.
 
　　This is a great happiness for her.'
 
　　'Bless the child! why didn't she come and call? I'd have let her in;though usually I avoid stage-struck girls as I do reporters,' laughedMiss Cameron.
 
　　There was no time for more; a brown hand, grasping the bracelet, roseout of the sea, followed by a purple face as Josie came up so blindand dizzy she could only cling to Bess, half drowned but triumphant.
 
　　Miss Cameron drew her to the rock where she sat, and pushing the hairout of her eyes, revived her with a hearty 'Bravo! bravo!' whichassured the girl that her first act was a hit. Josie had oftenimagined her meeting with the great actress--the dignity and gracewith which she would enter and tell her ambitious hopes, theeffective dress she would wear, the witty things she would say, thedeep impression her budding genius would make. But never in herwildest moments had she imagined an interview like this; scarlet,sandy, streaming, and speechless she leaned against the illustriousshoulder, looking like a beautiful seal as she blinked and wheezedtill she could smile joyfully and exclaim proudly:
 
　　'I did get it! I'm so glad!'
 
　　'Now get your breath, my dear; then I shall be glad also. It was verynice of you to take all that trouble for me. How shall I thank you?'
 
　　asked the lady, looking at her with the beautiful eyes that could sayso many things without words.
 
　　Josie clasped her hands with a wet spat which rather destroyed theeffect of the gesture, and answered in a beseeching tone that wouldhave softened a far harder heart than Miss Cameron's:
 
　　'Let me come and see you once--only once! I want you to tell me if Ican act; you will know. I'll abide by what you say; and if you thinkI can--by and by, when I've studied very hard--I shall be thehappiest girl in the world. May I?'
 
　　'Yes; come tomorrow at eleven. We'll have a good talk; you shall showme what you can do, and I'll give you my opinion. But you won't likeit.'
 
　　'I will, no matter if you tell me I'm a fool. I want it settled; sodoes mamma. I'll take it bravely if you say no; and if you say yes,I'll never give up till I've done my best--as you did.'
 
　　'Ah, my child, it's a weary road, and there are plenty of thornsamong the roses when you've won them. I think you have the courage,and this proves that you have perseverance. Perhaps you'll do. Come,and we'll see.'
 
　　Miss Cameron touched the bracelet as she spoke, and smiled so kindlythat impetuous Josie wanted to kiss her; but wisely refrained, thoughher eyes were wet with softer water than any in the sea as shethanked her.
 
　　'We are keeping Miss Cameron from her bath, and the tide is goingout. Come, Josie,' said thoughtful Bess, fearing to outstay theirwelcome.
 
　　'Run over the beach and get warm. Thank you very much, littlemermaid. Tell papa to bring his daughter to see me any time.
 
　　Good-bye'; and with a wave of her hand the tragedy queen dismissedher court, but remained on her weedy throne watching the two lithefigures race over the sand with twinkling feet till they were out ofsight. Then, as she calmly bobbed up and down in the water, she saidto herself: 'The child has a good stage face, vivid, mobile; fineeyes, abandon, pluck, will. Perhaps she'll do. Good stock--talent inthe family. We shall see.'
 
　　Of course Josie never slept a wink, and was in a fever of joyfulexcitement next day. Uncle Laurie enjoyed the episode very much, andAunt Amy looked out her most becoming white dress for the grandoccasion; Bess lent her most artistic hat, and Josie ranged the woodand marsh for a bouquet of wild roses, sweet white azalea, ferns, andgraceful grasses, as the offering of a very grateful heart.
 
　　At ten she solemnly arrayed herself, and then sat looking at her neatgloves and buckled shoes till it was time to go, growing pale andsober with the thought that her fate was soon to be decided; for,like all young people she was sure that her whole life could besettled by one human creature, quite forgetting how wonderfullyProvidence trains us by disappointment, surprises us with unexpectedsuccess, and turns our seeming trials into blessings.
 
　　'I will go alone: we shall be freer so. Oh, Bess, pray that she maytell me rightly! So much depends on that! Don't laugh, uncle! It is avery serious moment for me. Miss Cameron knows that, and will tellyou so. Kiss me, Aunt Amy, since mamma isn't here. If you say I looknice, I'm quite satisfied. Good-bye.' And with a wave of the hand asmuch like her model's as she could make it, Josie departed, lookingvery pretty and feeling very tragical.
 
　　Sure now of admittance, she boldly rang at the door which excluded somany, and being ushered into a shady parlour, feasted her eyes uponseveral fine portraits of great actors while she waited. She had readabout most of them, and knew their trials and triumphs so well thatshe soon forgot herself, and tried to imitate Mrs Siddons as LadyMacbeth, looking up at the engraving as she held her nosegay like thecandle in the sleep-walking scene, and knit her youthful browsdistressfully while murmuring the speech of the haunted queen. Sobusy was she that Miss Cameron watched her for several minutesunseen, then startled her by suddenly sweeping in with the words uponher lips, the look upon her face, which made that one of her greatestscenes.
 
　　'I never can do it like that; but I'll keep trying, if you say Imay,' cried Josie, forgetting her manners in the intense interest ofthe moment.
 
　　'Show me what you can do,' answered the actress, wisely plunging intothe middle of things at once, well knowing that no common chat wouldsatisfy this very earnest little person.
 
　　'First let me give you these. I thought you'd like wild things betterthan hot-house flowers; and I loved to bring them, as I'd no otherway to thank you for your great kindness to me,' said Josie, offeringher nosegay with a simple warmth that was very sweet.
 
　　'I do love them best, and keep my room full of the posies some goodfairy hangs on my gate. Upon my word, I think I've found the fairyout--these are so like,' she added quickly, as her eye went from theflowers in her hand to others that stood near by, arranged with thesame taste.
 
　　Josie's blush and smile betrayed her before she said, with a lookfull of girlish adoration and humility: 'I couldn't help it; I admireyou so much. I know it was a liberty; but as I couldn't get inmyself, I loved to think my posies pleased you.'
 
　　Something about the child and her little offering touched the woman,and, drawing Josie to her, she said, with no trace of actress in faceor voice:
 
　　'They did please me, dear, and so do you. I'm tired of praise; andlove is very sweet, when it is simple and sincere like this.'
 
　　Josie remembered to have heard, among many other stories, that MissCameron lost her lover years ago, and since had lived only for art.
 
　　Now she felt that this might have been true; and pity for thesplendid, lonely life made her face very eloquent, as well asgrateful. Then, as if anxious to forget the past, her new friendsaid, in the commanding way that seemed natural to her:
 
　　'Let me see what you can do. Juliet, of course. All begin with that.
 
　　Poor soul, how she is murdered!'
 
　　Now, Josie had intended to begin with Romeo's much-enduringsweetheart, and follow her up with Bianca, Pauline, and several ofthe favourite idols of stage-struck girls; but being a shrewd littleperson, she suddenly saw the wisdom of Uncle Laurie's advice, andresolved to follow it. So instead of the rant Miss Cameron expected,Josie gave poor Ophelia's mad scene, and gave it very well, havingbeen trained by the college professor of elocution and done it manytimes. She was too young, of course, but the white gown, the loosehair, the real flowers she scattered over the imaginary grave, addedto the illusion; and she sung the songs sweetly, dropped her patheticcurtsies, and vanished behind the curtain that divided the rooms witha backward look that surprised her critical auditor into a quickgesture of applause. Cheered by that welcome sound, Josie ran back asa little hoyden in one of the farces she had often acted, telling astory full of fun and naughtiness at first, but ending with a sob ofrepentance and an earnest prayer for pardon.
 
　　'Very good! Try again. Better than I expected,' called the voice ofthe oracle.
 
　　Josie tried Portia's speech, and recited very well, giving dueemphasis to each fine sentence. Then, unable to refrain from what sheconsidered her greatest effort, she burst into Juliet's balconyscene, ending with the poison and the tomb. She felt sure that shesurpassed herself, and waited for applause. A ringing laugh made hertingle with indignation and disappointment, as she went to standbefore Miss Cameron, saying in a tone of polite surprise:
 
　　'I have been told that I did it very well. I'm sorry you don't thinkso.'
 
　　'My dear, it's very bad. How can it help being so? What can a childlike you know of love and fear and death? Don't try it yet. Leavetragedy alone till you are ready for it.'
 
　　'But you clapped Ophelia.'
 
　　'Yes, that was very pretty. Any clever girl can do it effectively.
 
　　But the real meaning of Shakespeare is far above you yet, child. Thecomedy bit was best. There you showed real talent. It was both comicand pathetic. That's art. Don't lose it. The Portia was gooddeclamation. Go on with that sort of thing; it trains the voice--teaches shades of expression. You've a good voice and naturalgrace--great helps both, hard to acquire.'
 
　　'Well, I'm glad I've got something,' sighed Josie, sitting meekly ona stool, much crestfallen, but not daunted yet, and bound to have hersay out.
 
　　'My dear little girl, I told you that you would not like what Ishould say to you; yet I must be honest if I would really help you.
 
　　I've had to do it for many like you; and most of them have neverforgiven me, though my words have proved true, and they are what Iadvised them to be--good wives and happy mothers in quiet homes. Afew have kept on, and done fairly well. One you will hear of soon, Ithink; for she has talent, indomitable patience, and mind as well asbeauty. You are too young to show to which class you belong. Geniusesare very rare, and even at fifteen seldom give much promise of futurepower.'
 
　　'Oh, I don't think I'm a genius!' cried Josie, growing calm and soberas she listened to the melodious voice and looked into the expressiveface that filled her with confidence, so strong, sincere, and kindlywas it. 'I only want to find out if I have talent enough to go on,and after years of study to be able to act well in any of the goodplays people never tire of seeing. I don't expect to be a Mrs Siddonsor a Miss Cameron, much as I long to be; but it does seem as if I hadsomething in me which can't come out in any way but this. When I actI'm perfectly happy. I seem to live, to be in my own world, and eachnew part is a new friend. I love Shakespeare, and am never tired ofhis splendid people. Of course, I don't understand it all; but it'slike being alone at night with the mountains and the stars, solemnand grand, and I try to imagine how it will look when the sun comesup, and all is glorious and clear to me. I can't see, but I feel thebeauty, and long to express it.'
 
　　As she spoke with the most perfect self-forgetfulness Josie was palewith excitement, her eyes shone, her lips trembled, and all herlittle soul seemed trying to put into words the emotions that filledit to overflowing. Miss Cameron understood, felt that this wassomething more than a girlish whim; and when she answered there was anew tone of sympathy in her voice, a new interest in her face, thoughshe wisely refrained from saying all she thought, well knowing whatsplendid dreams young people build upon a word, and how bitter is thepain when the bright bubbles burst.
 
　　'If you feel this, I can give you no better advice than to go onloving and studying our great master,' she said slowly; but Josiecaught the changed tone, and felt, with a thrill of joy, that her newfriend was speaking to her now as to a comrade. 'It is an educationin itself, and a lifetime is not long enough to teach you all hissecret. But there is much to do before you can hope to echo hiswords. Have you the patience, courage, strength, to begin at thebeginning, and slowly, painfully, lay the foundation for future work?
 
　　Fame is a pearl many dive for and only a few bring up. Even when theydo, it is not perfect, and they sigh for more, and lose better thingsin struggling for them.'
 
　　The last words seemed spoken more to herself than to her hearer, butJosie answered quickly, with a smile and an expressive gesture:
 
　　'I got the bracelet in spite of all the bitter water in my eyes.'
 
　　'You did! I don't forget it. A good omen. We will accept it.'
 
　　Miss Cameron answered the smile with one that was like sunshine tothe girl, and stretched her white hands as if taking some invisiblegift. Then added in a different tone, watching the effect of herwords on the expressive face before her:
 
　　'Now you will be disappointed, for instead of telling you to come andstudy with me, or go and act in some second-rate theatre at once, Iadvise you to go back to school and finish your education. That isthe first step, for all accomplishments are needed, and a singletalent makes a very imperfect character. Cultivate mind and body,heart and soul, and make yourself an intelligent, graceful,beautiful, and healthy girl. Then, at eighteen or twenty, go intotraining and try your powers. Better start for the battle with yourarms in order, and save the hard lesson which comes when we rush ontoo soon. Now and then genius carries all before it, but not often.
 
　　We have to climb slowly, with many slips and falls. Can you wait aswell as work?'
 
　　'I will!'
 
　　'We shall see. It would be pleasant to me to know that when I quitthe stage I leave behind me a well-trained, faithful, gifted comradeto more than fill my place, and carry on what I have much at heart--the purification of the stage. Perhaps you are she; but remember,mere beauty and rich costumes do not make an actress, nor are theefforts of a clever little girl to play great characters real art. Itis all dazzle and sham, and a disgrace and disappointment now. Whywill the public be satisfied with opera bouffe, or the trash calledsociety plays when a world of truth and beauty, poetry and pathoslies waiting to be interpreted and enjoyed?'
 
　　Miss Cameron had forgotten to whom she spoke, and walked to and fro,full of the noble regret all cultivated people feel at the low stateof the stage nowadays.
 
　　'That's what Uncle Laurie says; and he and Aunt Jo try to plan playsabout true and lovely things--simple domestic scenes that touchpeople's hearts, and make them laugh and cry and feel better. Unclesays that sort is my style, and I must not think of tragedy. Butit's so much nicer to sweep about in crowns and velvet trains than towear everyday clothes, and just be myself, though it is so easy.'
 
　　'Yet that is high art, child, and what we need for a time till we areready for the masters. Cultivate that talent of yours. It is aspecial gift, this power to bring tears and smiles, and a sweetertask to touch the heart than to freeze the blood or fire theimagination. Tell your uncle he is right, and ask your aunt to try aplay for you. I'll come and see it when you are ready.'
 
　　'Will you? Oh! will you? We are going to have some at Christmas, witha nice part for me. A simple little thing, but I can do it, andshould be so proud, so happy to have you there.'
 
　　Josie rose as she spoke, for a glance at the clock showed her thather call was a long one; and hard as it was to end this momentousinterview, she felt that she must go. Catching up her hat she went toMiss Cameron, who stood looking at her so keenly that she felt astransparent as a pane of glass, and coloured prettily as she lookedup, saying, with a grateful little tremor in her voice:
 
　　'I can never thank you for this hour and all you have told me. Ishall do just what you advise, and mamma will be very glad to see mesettled at my books again. I can study now with all my heart, becauseit is to help me on; and I won't hope too much, but work and wait,and try to please you, as the only way to pay my debt.'
 
　　'That reminds me that I have not paid mine. Little friend, wear thisfor my sake. It is fit for a mermaid, and will remind you of yourfirst dive. May the next bring up a better jewel, and leave no bitterwater on your lips!'
 
　　As she spoke, Miss Cameron took from the lace at her throat a prettypin of aquamarine, and fastened it like an order on Josie's proudbosom; then lifting the happy little face, she kissed it verytenderly, and watched it go smiling away with eyes that seemed to seeinto a future full of the trials and the triumphs which she knew sowell.
 
　　Bess expected to see Josie come flying in, all raptures andexcitement, or drowned in tears of disappointment, but was surprisedat the expression of calm content and resolution which she wore.
 
　　Pride and satisfaction, and a new feeling of responsibility bothsobered and sustained her, and she felt that any amount of dry studyand long waiting would be bearable, if in the glorious future shecould be an honour to her profession and a comrade to the new friendwhom she already adored with girlish ardour.
 
　　She told her little story to a deeply interested audience, and allfelt that Miss Cameron's advice was good. Mrs Amy was relieved at theprospect of delay; for she did not want her niece to be an actressand hoped the fancy would die out.
 
　　Uncle Laurie was full of charming plans and prophecies and wrote oneof his most delightful notes to thank their neighbour for herkindness; while Bess, who loved art of all kinds, fully sympathizedwith her cousin's ambitious hopes, only wondering why she preferredto act out her visions rather than embody them in marble.
 
　　That first interview was not the last; for Miss Cameron was reallyinterested, and had several memorable conversations with theLaurences, while the girls sat by, drinking in every word with thedelight all artists feel in their own beautiful world, and learningto see how sacred good gifts are, how powerful, and how faithfullythey should be used for high ends, each in its own place helping toeducate, refine, and refresh.
 
　　Josie wrote reams to her mother; and when the visit ended rejoicedher heart by bringing her a somewhat changed little daughter, whofell to work at the once-detested books with a patient energy whichsurprised and pleased everyone. The right string had been touched,and even French exercises and piano practice became endurable, sinceaccomplishments would be useful by and by; dress, manners, and habitswere all interesting now, because 'mind and body, heart and soul,must be cultivated', and while training to become an 'intelligent,graceful, healthy girl', little Josie was unconsciously fittingherself to play her part well on whatever stage the great Managermight prepare for her.
Chapter 9 The Worm Turns
 Two very superior bicycles went twinkling up the road to Plumfieldone September afternoon, bearing two brown and dusty riders evidentlyreturning from a successful run, for though their legs might be atrifle weary, their faces beamed as they surveyed the world fromtheir lofty perches with the air of calm content all wheelmen wearafter they have learned to ride; before that happy period anguish ofmind and body is the chief expression of the manly countenance.
 
　　'Go ahead and report, Tom; I'm due here. See you later,' said Demi,swinging himself down at the door of the Dovecote.
 
　　'Don't peach, there's a good fellow. Let me have it out with MotherBhaer first,' returned Tom, wheeling in at the gate with a heavysigh.
 
　　Demi laughed, and his comrade went slowly up the avenue, devoutlyhoping that the coast was clear; for he was the bearer of tidingswhich would, he thought, convulse the entire family with astonishmentand dismay.
 
　　To his great joy Mrs Jo was discovered alone in a grove ofproof-sheets, which she dropped, to greet the returning wanderercordially. But after the first glance she saw that something was thematter, recent events having made her unusually sharp-eyed andsuspicious.
 
　　'What is it now, Tom?' she asked, as he subsided into an easy-chairwith a curious expression of mingled fear, shame, amusement, anddistress in his brick-red countenance.
 
　　'I'm in an awful scrape, ma'am.'
 
　　'Of course; I'm always prepared for scrapes when you appear. What isit? Run over some old lady who is going to law about it?' asked MrsJo cheerfully.
 
　　'Worse than that,' groaned Tom.
 
　　'Not poisoned some trusting soul who asked you to prescribe, I hope?'
 
　　'Worse than that.'
 
　　'You haven't let Demi catch any horrid thing and left him behind,have you?'
 
　　'Worse even than that.'
 
　　'I give it up. Tell me quick; I hate to wait for bad news.'
 
　　Having got his listener sufficiently excited, Tom launched histhunderbolt in one brief sentence, and fell back to watch the effect.
 
　　'I'm engaged!'
 
　　Mrs Jo's proof-sheets flew wildly about as she clasped her hands,exclaiming in dismay:
 
　　'If Nan has yielded, I'll never forgive her!'
 
　　'She hasn't; it's another girl.'
 
　　Tom's face was so funny as he said the words, that it was impossibleto help laughing; for he looked both sheepish and pleased, besidesvery much perplexed and worried.
 
　　'I'm glad, very glad indeed! Don't care who it is; and I hope you'llbe married soon. Now tell me all about it,' commanded Mrs Jo, so muchrelieved that she felt ready for anything.
 
　　'What will Nan say?' demanded Tom, rather taken aback at this view ofhis predicament.
 
　　'She will be rejoiced to get rid of the mosquito who has plagued herso long. Don't worry about Nan. Who is this "other girl"?'
 
　　'Demi hasn't written about her?'
 
　　'Only something about your upsetting a Miss West down at Quitno; Ithought that was scrape enough.'
 
　　'That was only the beginning of a series of scrapes. Just my luck!
 
　　Of course after sousing the poor girl I had to be attentive to her,hadn't I? Everyone seemed to think so, and I couldn't get away, andso I was lost before I knew it. It's all Demi's fault, he would staythere and fuss with his old photos, because the views were good andall the girls wanted to be taken. Look at these, will you, ma'am?
 
　　That's the way we spent our time when we weren't playing tennis'; andTom pulled a handful of pictures from his pocket, displaying severalin which he was conspicuous, either holding a sun-umbrella over avery pretty young lady on the rocks, reposing at her feet in thegrass, or perched on a piazza railing with other couples in seasidecostumes and effective attitudes.
 
　　'This is she of course?' asked Mrs Jo, pointing to the much-ruffleddamsel with the jaunty hat, coquettish shoes, and racquet in herhand.
 
　　'That's Dora. Isn't she lovely?' cried Tom, forgetting histribulations for a moment and speaking with lover-like ardour.
 
　　'Very nice little person to look at. Hope she is not a Dickens Dora?
 
　　That curly crop looks like it.'
 
　　'Not a bit; she's very smart; can keep house, and sew, and do lots ofthings, I assure you, ma'am. All the girls like her, and she'ssweet-tempered and jolly, and sings like a bird, and dancesbeautifully, and loves books. Thinks yours are splendid, and made metalk about you no end.'
 
　　'That last sentence is to flatter me and win my help to get you outof the scrape. Tell me first how you got in'; and Mrs Jo settledherself to listen with interest, never tired of boys' affairs.
 
　　Tom gave his head a rousing rub all over to clear his wits, andplunged into his story with a will.
 
　　'Well, we've met her before, but I didn't know she was there. Demiwanted to see a fellow, so we went, and finding it nice and coolrested over Sunday. Found some pleasant people and went out rowing; Ihad Dora, and came to grief on a confounded rock. She could swim, noharm done, only the scare and the spoilt gown. She took it well, andwe got friendly at once--couldn't help it, scrambling into that beastof a boat while the rest laughed at us. Of course we had to stayanother day to see that Dora was all right. Demi wanted to. AliceHeath is down there and two other girls from our college, so we sortof lingered along, and Demi kept taking pictures, and we danced, andgot into a tennis tournament; and that was as good exercise aswheeling, we thought. Fact is, tennis is a dangerous game, ma'am. Agreat deal of courting goes on in those courts, and we fellows findthat sort of "serving" mighty agreeable, don't you know?'
 
　　'Not much tennis in my day, but I understand perfectly,' said Mrs Jo,enjoying it all as much as Tom did.
 
　　'Upon my word, I hadn't the least idea of being serious,' hecontinued slowly, as if this part of his tale was hard to tell; 'buteveryone else spooned, so I did. Dora seemed to like it and expectit, and of course I was glad to be agreeable. She thought I amountedto something, though Nan does not, and it was pleasant to beappreciated after years of snubbing. Yes, it was right down jolly tohave a sweet girl smile at you all day, and blush prettily when yousaid a neat thing to her, and look glad when you came, sorry when youleft, and admire all you did, and make you feel like a man and actyour best. That's the sort of treatment a fellow enjoys and ought toget if he behaves himself; not frowns and cold shoulders year in andyear out, and made to look like a fool when he means well, and isfaithful, and has loved a girl ever since he was a boy. No, by Jove,it's not fair, and I won't stand it!'
 
　　Tom waxed warm and eloquent as he thought over his wrongs, andbounced up to march about the room, wagging his head and trying tofeel aggrieved as usual, but surprised to find that his heart did notache a bit.
 
　　'I wouldn't. Drop the old fancy, for it was nothing more, and take upthe new one, if it is genuine. But how came you to propose, Tom, asyou must have done to be engaged?' asked Mrs Jo, impatient for thecrisis of the tale.
 
　　'Oh, that was an accident. I didn't mean it at all; the donkey didit, and I couldn't get out of the scrape without hurting Dora'sfeelings, you see,' began Tom, seeing that the fatal moment had come.
 
　　'So there were two donkeys in it, were there?' said Mrs Jo,foreseeing fun of some sort.
 
　　'Don't laugh! It sounds funny, I know; but it might have been awful,'
 
　　answered Tom darkly, though a twinkle of the eye showed that his lovetrials did not quite blind him to the comic side of the adventure.
 
　　'The girls admired our new wheels, and of course we liked to showoff. Took 'em to ride, and had larks generally. Well, one day, Dorawas on behind, and we were going nicely along a good bit of road,when a ridiculous old donkey got right across the way. I thought he'dmove, but he didn't, so I gave him a kick; he kicked back, and overwe went in a heap, donkey and all. Such a mess! I thought only ofDora, and she had hysterics; at least, she laughed till she cried,and that beast brayed, and I lost my head. Any fellow would, with apoor girl gasping in the road, and he wiping her tears and beggingpardon, not knowing whether her bones were broken or not. I calledher my darling, and went on like a fool in my flurry, till she grewcalmer, and said, with such a look: "I forgive you, Tom. Pick me up,and let us go on again."'Wasn't that sweet now, after I'd upset her for the second time? Ittouched me to the heart; and I said I'd like to go on for ever withsuch an angel to steer for, and--well I don't know what I did say;but you might have knocked me down with a feather when she put herarm round my neck and whispered: "Tom, dear, with you I'm not afraidof any lions in the path." She might have said donkeys; but she wasin earnest, and she spared my feelings. Very nice of the dear girl;but there I am with two sweethearts on my hands, and in a deuce of ascrape.'
 
　　Finding it impossible to contain herself another moment, Mrs Jolaughed till the tears ran down her cheeks at this characteristicepisode; and after one reproachful look, which only added to hermerriment, Tom burst into a jolly roar that made the room ring.
 
　　'Tommy Bangs! Tommy Bangs! who but you could ever get into such acatastrophe?' said Mrs Jo, when she recovered her breath.
 
　　'Isn't it a muddle all round, and won't everyone chaff me to deathabout it? I shall have to quit old Plum for a while,' answered Tom,as he mopped his face, trying to realize the full danger of hisposition.
 
　　'No, indeed; I'll stand by you, for I think it the best joke of theseason. But tell me how things ended. Is it really serious, or only asummer flirtation? I don't approve of them, but boys and girls willplay with edged tools and cut their fingers.'
 
　　'Well, Dora considers herself engaged, and wrote to her people atonce. I couldn't say a word when she took it all in solemn earnestand seemed so happy. She's only seventeen, never liked anyone before,and is sure all will be all right; as her father knows mine, and weare both well off. I was so staggered that I said:
 
　　'"Why, you can't love me really when we know so little of oneanother?" But she answered right out of her tender little heart:
 
　　"Yes, I do, dearly, Tom; you are so gay and kind and honest, Icouldn't help it." Now, after that what could I do but go ahead andmake her happy while I stayed, and trust to luck to straighten thesnarl out afterwards?'
 
　　'A truly Tomian way of taking things easy. I hope you told yourfather at once.'
 
　　'Oh yes, I wrote off and broke it to him in three lines. I said:
 
　　"Dear Father, I'm engaged to Dora West, and I hope she will suit thefamily. She suits me tip-top. Yours ever, Tom." He was all right,never liked Nan, you know; but Dora will suit him down to theground.' And Tom looked entirely satisfied with his own tact andtaste.
 
　　'What did Demi say to this rapid and funny lovemaking? Wasn't hescandalized?' asked Mrs Jo, trying not to laugh again as she thoughtof the unromantic spectacle of donkey, bicycle, boy, and girl all inthe dust together.
 
　　'Not a bit. He was immensely interested and very kind; talked to melike a father; said it was a good thing to steady a fellow, only Imust be honest with her and myself and not trifle a moment. Demi is aregular Solomon, especially when he is in the same boat,' answeredTom, looking wise.
 
　　'You don't mean--?' gasped Mrs Jo, in sudden alarm at the bare ideaof more love-affairs just yet.
 
　　'Yes, I do, please, ma'am; it's a regular sell all the way through,and I owe Demi one for taking me into temptation blindfold. He saidhe went to Quitno to see Fred Wallace, but he never saw the fellow.
 
　　How could he, when Wallace was off in his yacht all the time we werethere? Alice was the real attraction, and I was left to my fate,while they were maundering round with that old camera. There werethree donkeys in this affair, and I'm not the worst one, though Ishall have to bear the laugh. Demi will look innocent and sober, andno one will say a word to him.'
 
　　'The midsummer madness has broken out, and no one knows who will bestricken next. Well, leave Demi to his mother, and let us see whatyou are going to do, Tom.'
 
　　'I don't know exactly; it's awkward to be in love with two girls atonce. What do you advise?'
 
　　'A common-sense view of the case, by all means. Dora loves you andthinks you love her. Nan does not care for you, and you only care forher as a friend, though you have tried to do more. It is my opinion,Tom, that you love Dora, or are on the way to it; for in all theseyears I've never seen you look or speak about Nan as you do aboutDora. Opposition has made you obstinately cling to her till accidenthas shown you a more attractive girl. Now, I think you had bettertake the old love for a friend, the new one for a sweetheart, and indue time, if the sentiment is genuine, marry her.'
 
　　If Mrs Jo had any doubts about the matter, Tom's face would haveproved the truth of her opinion; for his eyes shone, his lips smiled,and in spite of dust and sunburn a new expression of happiness quiteglorified him as he stood silent for a moment, trying to understandthe beautiful miracle which real love works when it comes to a youngman's heart.
 
　　'The fact is I meant to make Nan jealous, for she knows Dora, and Iwas sure would hear of our doings. I was tired of being walked on,and I thought I'd try to break away and not be a bore and alaughing-stock any more,' he said slowly, as if it relieved him topour out his doubts and woes and hopes and joys to his old friend.
 
　　'I was regularly astonished to find it so easy and so pleasant. Ididn't mean to do any harm, but drifted along beautifully, and toldDemi to mention things in his letters to Daisy, so Nan might know.
 
　　Then I forgot Nan altogether, and saw, heard, felt, cared for no onebut Dora, till the donkey--bless his old heart!--pitched her into myarms and I found she loved me. Upon my soul, I don't see why sheshould! I'm not half good enough.'
 
　　'Every honest man feels that when an innocent girl puts her hand inhis. Make yourself worthy of her, for she isn't an angel, but a womanwith faults of her own for you to bear, and forgive, and you musthelp one another,' said Mrs Jo, trying to realize that this soberyouth was her scapegrace Tommy.
 
　　'What troubles me is that I didn't mean it when I began, and wasgoing to use the dear girl as an instrument of torture for Nan. Itwasn't right, and I don't deserve to be so happy. If all my scrapesended as well as this, what a state of bliss I should be in!' and Tombeamed again at the rapturous prospect.
 
　　'My dear boy, it is not a scrape, but a very sweet experiencesuddenly dawning upon you,' answered Mrs Jo, speaking very soberly;for she saw he was in earnest. 'Enjoy it wisely and be worthy of it,for it is a serious thing to accept a girl's love and trust, and lether look up to you for tenderness and truth in return. Don't letlittle Dora look in vain, but be a man in all things for her sake,and make this affection a blessing to you both.'
 
　　'I'll try. Yes, I do love her, only I can't believe it just yet. Wishyou knew her. Dear little soul, I long to see her already! She criedwhen we parted last night and I hated to go.' Tom's hand went to hischeek as if he still felt the rosy little seal Dora had set upon hispromise not to forget her, and for the first time in hishappy-go-lucky life Tommy Bangs understood the difference betweensentiment and sentimentality. The feeling recalled Nan, for he hadnever known that tender thrill when thinking of her, and the oldfriendship seemed rather a prosaic affair beside this delightfulmingling of romance, surprise, love, and fun. 'I declare, I feel asif a weight was off me, but what the dickens will Nan say when sheknows it!' he exclaimed with a chuckle.
 
　　'Knows what?' asked a clear voice that made both start and turn, forthere was Nan calmly surveying them from the doorway.
 
　　Anxious to put Tom out of suspense and see how Nan would take thenews, Mrs Jo answered quickly:
 
　　'Tom's engagement to Dora West.'
 
　　'Really?' and Nan looked so surprised that Mrs Jo was afraid shemight be fonder of her old playmate than she knew; but her next wordsset the fear at rest, and made everything comfortable and merry atonce.
 
　　'I knew my prescription would work wonders if he only took it longenough. Dear old Tom, I'm so glad. Bless you! bless you!' And sheshook both his hands with hearty affection.
 
　　'It was an accident, Nan. I didn't mean to, but I'm always gettinginto messes, and I couldn't seem to get out of this any other way.
 
　　Mother Bhaer will tell you all about it. I must go and make myselftidy. Going to tea with Demi. See you later.'
 
　　Stammering, blushing, and looking both sheepish and gratified, Tomsuddenly bolted, leaving the elder lady to enlighten the younger atlength, and have another laugh over this new sort of courtship, whichmight well be called accidental. Nan was deeply interested, for sheknew Dora, thought her a nice little thing, and predicted that intime she would make Tom an excellent wife, since she admired and'appreciated' him so much.
 
　　'I shall miss him of course, but it will be a relief to me and betterfor him; dangling is so bad for a boy. Now he will go into businesswith his father and do well, and everyone be happy. I shall give Doraan elegant family medicine-chest for a wedding-present, and teach herhow to use it. Tom can't be trusted, and is no more fit for theprofession than Silas.'
 
　　The latter part of this speech relieved Mrs Jo's mind, for Nan hadlooked about her as if she had lost something valuable when shebegan; but the medicine-chest seemed to cheer her, and the thought ofTom in a safe profession was evidently a great comfort.
 
　　'The worm has turned at last, Nan, and your bond-man is free. Let himgo, and give your whole mind to your work; for you are fitted for theprofession, and will be an honour to it by and by,' she saidapprovingly.
 
　　'I hope so. That reminds me--measles are in the village, and you hadbetter tell the girls not to call where there are children. It wouldbe bad to have a run of them just as term begins. Now I'm off toDaisy. Wonder what she will say to Tom. Isn't he great fun?' And Nandeparted, laughing over the joke with such genuine satisfaction thatit was evident no sentimental regrets disturbed her 'maidenmeditation, fancy-free'.
 
　　'I shall have my eye on Demi, but won't say a word. Meg likes tomanage her children in her own way, and a very good way it is. Butthe dear Pelican will be somewhat ruffled if her boy has caught theepidemic which seems to have broken out among us this summer.'
 
　　Mrs Jo did not mean the measles, but that more serious malady calledlove, which is apt to ravage communities, spring and autumn, whenwinter gaiety and summer idleness produce whole bouquets ofengagements, and set young people to pairing off like the birds.
 
　　Franz began it, Nat was a chronic and Tom a sudden case; Demi seemedto have the symptoms; and worst of all, her own Ted had only the daybefore calmly said to her: 'Mum, I think I should be happier if I hada sweetheart, like the other boys.' If her cherished son had askedher for dynamite to play with, she would hardly have been morestartled, or have more decidedly refused the absurd request.
 
　　'Well, Barry Morgan said I ought to have one and offered to pick meout a nice one among our set. I asked Josie first, and she hooted atthe idea, so I thought I'd let Barry look round. You say it steadiesa fellow, and I want to be steady,' explained Ted in a serious tone,which would have convulsed his parent at any other time.
 
　　'Good lack! What are we coming to in this fast age when babes andboys make such demands and want to play with one of the most sacredthings in life?' exclaimed Mrs Jo, and having in a few words set thematter in its true light, sent her son away to wholesome baseball andOctoo for a safe sweetheart.
 
　　Now, here was Tom's bomb-shell to explode in their midst, carryingwidespread destruction, perhaps; for though one swallow does not makea summer, one engagement is apt to make several, and her boys were,most of them, at the inflammable age when a spark ignites the flame,which soon flickers and dies out, or burns warm and clear for life.
 
　　Nothing could be done about it but to help them make wise choices,and be worthy of good mates. But of all the lessons Mrs Jo had triedto teach her boys, this great one was the hardest; for love is apt tomake lunatics of even saints and sages, so young people cannot beexpected to escape the delusions, disappointments, and mistakes, aswell as the delights, of this sweet madness.
 
　　'I suppose it is inevitable, since we live in America, so I won'tborrow trouble, but hope that some of the new ideas of education willproduce a few hearty, happy, capable, and intelligent girls for mylads. Lucky for me that I haven't the whole twelve on my hands, Ishould lose my wits if I had, for I foresee complications andtroubles ahead worse than Tom's boats, bicycles, donkeys, and Doras,'
 
　　meditated Mrs Jo, as she went back to her neglected proof-sheets.
 
　　Tom was quite satisfied with the tremendous effect his engagementproduced in the little community at Plumfield.
 
　　'It was paralysing,' as Demi said; and astonishment left most ofTom's mates little breath for chaff. That he, the faithful one,should turn from the idol to strange goddesses, was a shock to theromantic and a warning to the susceptible. It was comical to see theairs our Thomas put on; for the most ludicrous parts of the affairwere kindly buried in oblivion by the few who knew them, and Tomburst forth as a full-blown hero who had rescued the maiden from awatery grave, and won her gratitude and love by his daring deed.
 
　　Dora kept the secret, and enjoyed the fun when she came to see MotherBhaer and pay her respects to the family generally. Everyone likedher at once, for she was a gay and winning little soul; fresh, frank,and so happy, it was beautiful to see her innocent pride in Tom, whowas a new boy, or man rather; for with this change in his life agreat change took place in him. Jolly he would always be, andimpulsive, but he tried to become all that Dora believed him, and hisbest side came uppermost for everyday wear. It was surprising to seehow many good traits Tom had; and his efforts to preserve the manlydignity belonging to his proud position as an engaged man was verycomical. So was the entire change from his former abasement anddevotion to Nan to a somewhat lordly air with his little betrothed;for Dora made an idol of him, and resented the idea of a fault or aflaw in her Tom. This new state of things suited both, and the onceblighted being bloomed finely in the warm atmosphere of appreciation,love, and confidence. He was very fond of the dear girl, but meant tobe a slave no longer, and enjoyed his freedom immensely, quiteunconscious that the great tyrant of the world had got hold of himfor life.
 
　　To his father's satisfaction he gave up his medical studies, andprepared to go into business with the old gentleman, who was aflourishing merchant, ready now to make the way smooth and smile uponhis marriage with Mr West's well-endowed daughter. The only thorn inTom's bed of roses was Nan's placid interest in his affairs, andevident relief at his disloyalty. He did not want her to suffer, buta decent amount of regret at the loss of such a lover would havegratified him; a slight melancholy, a word of reproach, a glance ofenvy as he passed with adoring Dora on his arm, seemed but thefitting tribute to such years of faithful service and sincereaffection. But Nan regarded him with a maternal sort of air thatnettled him very much, and patted Dora's curly head with aworldlywise air worthy of the withered spinster, Julia Mills, inDavid Copperfield.
 
　　It took some time to get the old and the new emotions comfortablyadjusted, but Mrs Jo helped him, and Mr Laurie gave him some wiseadvice upon the astonishing gymnastic feats the human heart canperform, and be all the better for it if it only held fast to thebalancing-pole of truth and common sense. At last our Tommy got hisbearings, and as autumn came on Plumfield saw but little of him; forhis new lode star was in the city, and business kept him hard atwork. He was evidently in his right place now, and soon throvefinely, to his father's great contentment; for his jovial presencepervaded the once quiet office like a gale of fresh wind, and hislively wits found managing men and affairs much more congenialemployment than studying disease, or playing unseemly pranks withskeletons.
 
　　Here we will leave him for a time and turn to the more seriousadventures of his mates, though this engagement, so merrily made, wasthe anchor which kept our mercurial Tom happy, and made a man of him.
Chapter 10 Demi Settles
 'Mother, can I have a little serious conversation with you?' askedDemi one evening, as they sat together enjoying the first fire of theseason, while Daisy wrote letters upstairs and Josie was studying inthe little library close by.
 
　　'Certainly, dear. No bad news, I hope?' and Mrs Meg looked up fromher sewing with a mixture of pleasure and anxiety on her motherlyface; for she dearly loved a good talk with her son, and knew that healways had something worth telling.
 
　　'It will be good news for you, I think,' answered Demi, smiling as hethrew away his paper and went to sit beside her on the little sofawhich just held two.
 
　　'Let me hear it, then, at once.'
 
　　'I know you don't like the reporting, and will be glad to hear that Ihave given it up.'
 
　　'I am very glad! It is too uncertain a business, and there is noprospect of getting on for a long time. I want you settled in somegood place where you can stay, and in time make money. I wish youliked a profession; but as you don't, any clean, well-establishedbusiness will do.'
 
　　'What do you say to a railroad office?'
 
　　'I don't like it. A noisy, hurried kind of place, I know, with allsorts of rough men about. I hope it isn't that, dear?'
 
　　'I could have it; but does book-keeping in a wholesale leatherbusiness please you better?'
 
　　'No; you'll get round-shouldered writing at a tall desk; and theysay, once a book-keeper always a book-keeper.'
 
　　'How does a travelling agent suit your views?'
 
　　'Not at all; with all those dreadful accidents, and the exposure andbad food as you go from place to place, you are sure to get killed orlose your health.'
 
　　'I could be private secretary to a literary man; but the salary issmall, and may end any time.'
 
　　'That would be better, and more what I want. It isn't that I objectto honest work of any kind; but I don't want my son to spend his bestyears grubbing for a little money in a dark office, or be knockedabout in a rough-and-tumble scramble to get on. I want to see you insome business where your tastes and talents can be developed and madeuseful; where you can go on rising, and in time put in your littlefortune and be a partner; so that your years of apprenticeship willnot be wasted, but fit you to take your place among the honourablemen who make their lives and work useful and respected. I talked itall over with your dear father when you were a child; and if he hadlived he would have shown you what I mean, and helped you to be whathe was.'
 
　　Mrs Meg wiped away a quiet tear as she spoke; for the memory of herhusband was a very tender one, and the education of his children hadbeen a sacred task to which she gave all her heart and life, and sofar she had done wonderfully well--as her good son and lovingdaughters tried to prove. Demi's arm was round her now, as he said,in a voice so like his father's that it was the sweetest music to herear:
 
　　'Mother dear, I think I have got just what you want for me; and itshall not be my fault if I don't become the man you hope to see me.
 
　　Let me tell you all about it. I didn't say anything till it was surebecause it would only worry you; but Aunt Jo and I have been on thelook-out for it some time, and now it has come. You know herpublisher, Mr Tiber, is one of the most successful men in thebusiness; also generous, kind, and the soul of honour--as histreatment of Aunty proves. Well, I've rather hankered for that place;for I love books, and as I can't make them I'd like to publish them.
 
　　That needs some literary taste and judgement, it brings you incontact with fine people, and is an education in itself. Whenever Igo into that large, handsome room to see Mr Tiber for Aunt Jo, Ialways want to stay; for it's lined with books and pictures, famousmen and women come and go, and Mr Tiber sits at his desk like a sortof king, receiving his subjects; for the greatest authors are humbleto him, and wait his Yes or No with anxiety. Of course I've nothingto do with all that, and may never have; but I like to see it, andthe atmosphere is so different from the dark offices and hurly-burlyof many other trades, where nothing but money is talked about, thatit seems another world, and I feel at home in it. Yes, I'd ratherbeat the door-mats and make fires there than be head clerk in thegreat hide and leather store at a big salary.' Here Demi paused forbreath; and Mrs Meg, whose face had been growing brighter andbrighter, exclaimed eagerly:
 
　　'Just what I should like! Have you got it? Oh, my dear boy! yourfortune is made if you go to that well-established and flourishingplace, with those good men to help you along!'
 
　　'I think I have, but we mustn't be too sure of anything yet. I maynot suit; I'm only on trial, and must begin at the beginning and workmy way up faithfully. Mr Tiber was very kind, and will push me on asfast as is fair to the other fellows, and as I prove myself fit to goup. I'm to begin the first of next month in the book-room, fillingorders; and I go round and get orders, and do various other things ofthe sort. I like it. I am ready to do anything about books, if it'sonly to dust them,' laughed Demi, well pleased with his prospects,for, after trying various things, he seemed at last to have found thesort of work he liked, and a prospect that was very inviting to him.
 
　　'You inherit that love of books from grandpa; he can't live withoutthem. I'm glad of it. Tastes of that kind show a refined nature, andare both a comfort and a help all one's life. I am truly glad andgrateful, John, that at last you want to settle, and have got such anentirely satisfactory place. Most boys begin much earlier; but Idon't believe in sending them out to face the world so young, justwhen body and soul need home care and watchfulness. Now you are aman, and must begin your life for yourself. Do your best, and be ashonest, useful, and happy as your father, and I won't care aboutmaking a fortune.'
 
　　'I'll try, mother. Couldn't have a better chance; for Tiber & Co.
 
　　treat their people like gentlemen, and pay generously for faithfulwork. Things are done in a businesslike way there, and that suits me.
 
　　I hate promises that are not kept, and shiftless or tyrannical waysanywhere. Mr Tiber said: "This is only to teach you the ropes,Brooke; I shall have other work for you by and by." Aunty told him Ihad done book notices, and had rather a fancy for literature; sothough I can't produce any "works of Shakespeare", as she says, I mayget up some little things later. If I don't, I think it a veryhonourable and noble profession to select and give good books to theworld; and I'm satisfied to be a humble helper in the work.'
 
　　'I'm glad you feel so. It adds so much to one's happiness to love thetask one does. I used to hate teaching; but housekeeping for my ownfamily was always sweet, though much harder in many ways. Isn't AuntJo pleased about all this?' asked Mrs Meg, already seeing in hermind's eye a splendid sign with 'Tiber, Brooke & Co.' over the doorof a famous publishing house.
 
　　'So pleased that I could hardly keep her from letting the cat out ofthe bag too soon. I've had so many plans, and disappointed you sooften, I wanted to be very sure this time. I had to bribe Rob and Tedto keep her at home tonight till I'd told my news, she was eager torush down and tell you herself. The castles that dear woman has builtfor me would fill all Spain, and have kept us jolly while we waitedto know our fate. Mr Tiber doesn't do things in a hurry; but when hemakes up his mind, you are all right; and I feel that I am fairlylaunched.'
 
　　'Bless you, dear, I hope so! It is a happy day for me, because I'vebeen so anxious lest, with all my care, I have been too easy andindulgent, and my boy, with his many good gifts, might fritter histime away in harmless but unsatisfactory things. Now I am at easeabout you. If only Daisy can be happy, and Josie give up her dream, Ishall be quite contented.'
 
　　Demi let his mother enjoy herself for a few minutes, while he smiledover a certain little dream of his own, not ready yet for thetelling; then he said, in the paternal tone which he unconsciouslyused when speaking of his sisters:
 
　　'I'll see to the girls; but I begin to think grandpa is right insaying we must each be what God and nature makes us. We can't changeit much--only help to develop the good and control the bad elementsin us. I have fumbled my way into my right place at last, I hope. LetDaisy be happy in her way, since it is a good and womanly one. If Natcomes home all right, I'd say: "Bless you, my children," and givethem a nest of their own. Then you and I will help little Jo to findout if it is to be "All the world's a stage" or "Home, sweet home",for her.'
 
　　'I suppose we must, John; but I can't help making plans, and hopingthey will come to pass. I see that Daisy is bound up in Nat; and ifhe is worthy of her I shall let them be happy in their own way, as myparents let me. But Josie will be a trial, I foresee; and much as Ilove the stage, and always did, I don't see how I can ever let mylittle girl be an actress, though she certainly has great talent forit.'
 
　　'Whose fault is that?' asked Demi, smiling, as he remembered hismother's early triumphs and unquenchable interest in the dramaticefforts of the young people round her.
 
　　'Mine, I know. How could it be otherwise when I acted Babes in theWood with you and Daisy before you could speak, and taught Josie todeclaim Mother Goose in her cradle. Ah, me! the tastes of the mothercome out in her children, and she must atone for them by letting themhave their own way, I suppose.' And Mrs Meg laughed, even while sheshook her head over the undeniable fact that the Marches were atheatrical family.
 
　　'Why not have a great actress of our name, as well as an authoress, aminister, and an eminent publisher? We don't choose our talents, butwe needn't hide them in a napkin because they are not just what wewant. I say, let Jo have her way, and do what she can. Here am I totake care of her; and you can't deny you'd enjoy fixing herfurbelows, and seeing her shine before the footlights, where you usedto long to be. Come, mother, better face the music and march gaily,since your wilful children will "gang their ain gait".'
 
　　'I don't see but I must, and "leave the consequences to the Lord", asMarmee used to say when she had to decide, and only saw a step of theroad. I should enjoy it immensely, if I could only feel that the lifewould not hurt my girl, and leave her unsatisfied when it was toolate to change; for nothing is harder to give up than the excitementsof that profession. I know something of it; and if your blessedfather had not come along, I'm afraid I should have been an actressin spite of Aunt March and all our honoured ancestors.'
 
　　'Let Josie add new honour to the name, and work out the family talentin its proper place. I'll play dragon to her, and you play nurse, andno harm can come to our little Juliet, no matter how many Romeosspoon under her balcony. Really, ma'am, opposition comes badly froman old lady who is going to wring the hearts of our audience in theheroine's part in Aunty's play next Christmas. It's the mostpathetic thing I ever saw, mother; and I'm sorry you didn't become anactress, though we should be nowhere if you had.'
 
　　Demi was on his legs now, with his back to the fire, in the lordlyattitude men like to assume when things go well with them, or theywant to lay down the law on any subject.
 
　　Mrs Meg actually blushed at her son's hearty praise, and could notdeny that the sound of applause was as sweet now as when she playedthe Witch's Curse and The Moorish Maiden's Vow long years ago.
 
　　'It's perfectly absurd for me to do it, but I couldn't resist when Joand Laurie made the part for me, and you children were to act in it.
 
　　The minute I get on the old mother's dress I forget myself and feelthe same thrill at the sound of the bell that I used to feel when wegot up plays in the garret. If Daisy would only take the daughter'spart it would be so complete; for with you and Josie I am hardlyacting, it is all so real.'
 
　　'Especially the hospital scene, where you find the wounded son. Why,mother, do you know when we did that at last rehearsal my face waswet with real tears as you cried over me. It will bring down thehouse; but don't forget to wipe 'em off, or I shall sneeze,' saidDemi, laughing at the recollection of his mother's hit.
 
　　'I won't; but it almost broke my heart to see you so pale anddreadful. I hope there will never he another war in my time, for Ishould have to let you go; and I never want to live through the sameexperience we had with father.'
 
　　'Don't you think Alice does the part better than Daisy would? Daisyhasn't a bit of the actress in her, and Alice puts life into thedullest words she speaks. I think the Marquise is just perfect in ourpiece,' said Demi, strolling about the room as if the warmth of thefire sent a sudden colour to his face.
 
　　'So do I. She is a dear girl, and I'm proud and fond of her. Where isshe tonight?'
 
　　'Pegging away at her Greek, I suppose. She usually is in the evening.
 
　　More's the pity,' added Demi, in a low tone, as he stared intently atthe book-case, though he couldn't read a title.
 
　　'Now, there is a girl after my own heart. Pretty, well-bred,well-educated, and yet domestic, a real companion as well ashelp-meet for some good and intelligent man. I hope she will findone.'
 
　　'So do I,' muttered Demi.
 
　　Mrs Meg had taken up her work again, and was surveying ahalf-finished buttonhole with so much interest that her son's faceescaped her eye. He shed a beaming smile upon the rows of poets, asif even in their glass prison they could sympathize and rejoice withhim at the first rosy dawn of the great passion which they knew sowell. But Demi was a wise youth, and never leaped before lookingcarefully. He hardly knew his own heart yet, and was contented towait till the sentiment, the fluttering of those folded wings hebegan to feel, should escape from the chrysalis and be ready to soaraway in the sunshine to seek and claim its lovely mate. He had saidnothing; but the brown eyes were eloquent, and there was anunconscious underplot to all the little plays he and Alice Heathacted so well together. She was busy with her books, bound tograduate with high honours, and he was trying to do the same in thatlarger college open to all, and where each man has his own prize towin or lose. Demi had nothing but himself to offer and, being amodest youth, considered that a poor gift till he had proved hispower to earn his living, and the right to take a woman's happinessinto his keeping.
 
　　No one guessed that he had caught the fever except sharp-eyed Josie,and she, having a wholesome fear of her brother--who could be ratherawful when she went too far--wisely contented herself with watchinghim like a little cat, ready to pounce on the first visible sign ofweakness. Demi had taken to playing pensively upon his flute after hewas in his room for the night, making this melodious friend hisconfidante, and breathing into it all the tender hopes and fears thatfilled his heart. Mrs Meg, absorbed in domestic affairs, and Daisy,who cared for no music but Nat's violin, paid no heed to thesechamber concerts, but Josie always murmured to herself, with anaughty chuckle, 'Dick Swiveller is thinking of his Sophy Wackles,'
 
　　and bided her time to revenge certain wrongs inflicted upon her byDemi, who always took Daisy's side when she tried to curb the spiritsof her unruly little sister.
 
　　This evening she got her chance, and made the most of it. Mrs Meg wasjust rounding off her buttonhole, and Demi still strolling restlesslyabout the room, when a book was heard to slam in the study, followedby an audible yawn and the appearance of the student looking as ifsleep and a desire for mischief were struggling which should bemaster.
 
　　'I heard my name; have you been saying anything bad about me?' shedemanded, perching on the arm of an easychair.
 
　　Her mother told the good news, over which Josie duly rejoiced, andDemi received her congratulations with a benignant air which made herfeel that too much satisfaction was not good for him, and incited herto put a thorn into his bed of roses at once.
 
　　'I caught something about the play just now, and I want to tell youthat I'm going to introduce a song into my part to liven it up a bit.
 
　　How would this do?' and seating herself at the piano she began tosing to these words the air of 'Kathleen Mavourneen':
 
　　'Sweetest of maidens, oh, how can I tellThe love that transfigures the whole earth to me?
 
　　The longing that causes my bosom to swell,When I dream of a life all devoted to thee?'
 
　　She got no further, for Demi, red with wrath, made a rush at her, andthe next moment a very agile young person was seen dodging roundtables and chairs with the future partner of Tiber & Co. in hotpursuit. 'You monkey, how dare you meddle with my papers?' cried theirate poet, making futile grabs at the saucy girl, who skipped to andfro, waving a bit of paper tantalizingly before him.
 
　　'Didn't; found it in the big "Dic". Serves you right if you leaveyour rubbish about. Don't you like my song? It's very pretty.'
 
　　'I'll teach you one that you won't like if you don't give me myproperty.'
 
　　'Come and get it if you can'; and Josie vanished into the study tohave out her squabble in peace, for Mrs Meg was already saying:
 
　　'Children, children! don't quarrel.'
 
　　The paper was in the fire by the time Demi arrived and he at oncecalmed down, seeing that the bone of contention was out of the way.
 
　　'I'm glad it's burnt; I don't care for it, only some verse I wastrying to set to music for one of the girls. But I'll trouble you tolet my papers alone, or I shall take back the advice I gave mothertonight about allowing you to act as much as you like.'
 
　　Josie was sobered at once by this dire threat, and in her mostwheedling tone begged to know what he had said. By way of heapingcoals of fire on her head he told her, and this diplomaticperformance secured him an ally on the spot.
 
　　'You dear old boy! I'll never tease you again though you moon andspoon both day and night. If you stand by me, I'll stand by you andnever say a word. See here! I've got a note for you from Alice.
 
　　Won't that be a peace-offering and soothe your little feelings?'
 
　　Demi's eyes sparkled as Josie held up a paper cocked hat, but as heknew what was probably in it, he took the wind out of Josie's sails,and filled her with blank astonishment by saying carelessly:
 
　　'That's nothing; it's only to say whether she will go to the concertwith us tomorrow night. You can read it if you like.'
 
　　With the natural perversity of her sex Josie ceased to be curious themoment she was told to read it, and meekly handed it over; but shewatched Demi as he calmly read the two lines it contained and thenthrew it into the fire. 'Why, Jack, I thought you'd treasure everyscrap the "sweetest maid" touched. Don't you care for her?'
 
　　'Very much; we all do; but "mooning and spooning", as you elegantlyexpress it, is not in my line. My dear little girl, your plays makeyou romantic, and because Alice and I act lovers sometimes you takeit into your silly head that we are really so. Don't waste timehunting mares nests, but attend to your own affairs and leave me tomine. I forgive you, but don't do it again; it's bad taste, andtragedy queens don't romp.'
 
　　The last cut finished Josie; she humbly begged pardon and went off tobed, while Demi soon followed, feeling that he had not only settledhimself but his too inquisitive little sister also. But if he hadseen her face as she listened to the soft wailing of his flute hewould not have been so sure, for she looked as cunning as a magpie asshe said, with a scornful sniff: 'Pooh, you can't deceive me; I knowDick is serenading Sophy Wackles.'
Chapter 11 Emil's Thanksgiving
 The Brenda was scudding along with all sail set to catch the risingwind, and everyone on board was rejoicing, for the long voyage wasdrawing towards an end.
 
　　'Four weeks more, Mrs Hardy, and we'll give you a cup of tea such asyou never had before,' said second mate Hoffmann, as he paused besidetwo ladies sitting in a sheltered corner of the deck.
 
　　'I shall be glad to get it, and still gladder to put my feet on solidground,' answered the elder lady, smiling; for our friend Emil was afavourite, as well he might be, since he devoted himself to thecaptain's wife and daughter, who were the only passengers on board.
 
　　'So shall I, even if I have to wear a pair of shoes like Chinesejunks. I've tramped up and down the deck so much, I shall bebarefooted if we don't arrive soon,' laughed Mary, the daughter,showing two shabby little boots as she glanced up at the companion ofthese tramps, remembering gratefully how pleasant he had made them.
 
　　'Don't think there are any small enough in China,' answered Emil,with a sailor's ready gallantry, privately resolving to hunt up thehandsomest shoes he could find the moment he landed.
 
　　'I don't know what you would have done for exercise, dear, if MrHoffmann had not made you walk every day. This lazy life is bad foryoung people, though it suits an old body like me well enough in calmweather. Is this likely to be a gale, think ye?' added Mrs Hardy,with an anxious glance at the west, where the sun was setting redly.
 
　　'Only a capful of wind, ma'am, just enough to send us along lively,'
 
　　answered Emil, with a comprehensive glance aloft and alow.
 
　　'Please sing, Mr Hoffmann, it's so pleasant to have music at thistime. We shall miss it very much when we get ashore,' said Mary, in apersuasive tone which would have won melody from a shark, if such athing were possible.
 
　　Emil had often blessed his one accomplishment during these months,for it cheered the long days, and made the twilight hour his happiesttime, wind and weather permitting. So now he gladly tuned his pipe,and leaning on the taffrail near the girl, watched the brown locksblowing in the wind as he sang her favourite song:
 
　　'Give me freshening breeze, my boys,A white and swelling sail,A ship that cuts the dashing waves,And weathers every gale.
 
　　What life is like a sailor's life,So free, so bold, so brave?
 
　　His home the ocean's wide expanse,A coral bed his grave.'
 
　　Just as the last notes of the clear, strong voice died away, MrsHardy suddenly exclaimed: 'What's that?' Emil's quick eye saw at oncethe little puff of smoke coming up a hatchway where no smoke shouldbe, and his heart seemed to stand still for an instant as the dreadword 'Fire!' flashed through his mind. Then he was quite steady, andstrolled away saying quietly:
 
　　'Smoking not allowed there, I'll go and stop it.' But the instant hewas out of sight his face changed, and he leaped down the hatchway,thinking, with a queer smile on his lips: 'If we are afire, shouldn'twonder if I did make a coral bed my grave!'
 
　　He was gone a few minutes, and when he came up, half stifled withsmoke, he was as white as a very brown man could be, but calm andcool as he went to report to the captain.
 
　　'Fire in the hold, sir.'
 
　　'Don't frighten the women,' was Captain Hardy's first order; thenboth be stirred themselves to discover how strong the treacherousenemy was, and to rout it if possible.
 
　　The Brenda's cargo was a very combustible one, and in spite of thestreams of water poured into the hold it was soon evident that theship was doomed. Smoke began to ooze up between the plankseverywhere, and the rising gale soon fanned the smouldering fire toflames that began to break out here and there, telling the dreadfultruth too plainly for anyone to hide. Mrs Hardy and Mary bore theshock bravely when told to be ready to quit the ship at a minute'snotice; the boats were hastily prepared, and the men worked with awill to batten down every loophole whence the fire might escape. Soonthe poor Brenda was a floating furnace, and the order to 'Take to theboats!' came for all. The women first, of course, and it wasfortunate that, being a merchantman, there were no more passengers onboard, so there was no panic, and one after the other the boatspushed off. That in which the women were lingered near, for the bravecaptain would be the last to leave his ship.
 
　　Emil stayed by him till ordered away, and reluctantly obeyed; but itwas well for him he went, for just as he had regained the boat,rocking far below, half hidden by a cloud of smoke, a mast,undermined by the fire now raging in the bowels of the ship, fellwith a crash, knocking Captain Hardy overboard. The boat soon reachedhim as he floated out from the wreck, and Emil sprung into the sea torescue him, for he was wounded and senseless. This accident made itnecessary for the young man to take command, and he at once orderedthe men to pull for their lives, as an explosion might occur at anymoment.
 
　　The other boats were out of danger and all lingered to watch thesplendid yet awesome spectacle of the burning ship alone on the widesea, reddening the night and casting a lurid glare upon the water,where floated the frail boats filled with pale faces, all turned fora last look at the fated Brenda, slowly settling to her watery grave.
 
　　No one saw the end, however, for the gale soon swept the watchers faraway and separated them, some never to meet again till the sea givesup its dead.
 
　　The boat whose fortunes we must follow was alone when dawn came up,showing these survivors all the dangers of their situation. Food andwater had been put in, and such provision for comfort and safety astime allowed; but it was evident that with a badly wounded man, twowomen, and seven sailors, their supply would not last long, and helpwas sorely needed. Their only hope was in meeting a ship, althoughthe gale, which had raged all night, had blown them out of theircourse. To this hope all clung, and wiled away the weary hours,watching the horizon and cheering one another with prophecies ofspeedy rescue.
 
　　Second mate Hoffmann was very brave and helpful, though hisunexpected responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders; for thecaptain's state seemed desperate, the poor wife's grief wrung hisheart, and the blind confidence of the young girl in his power tosave them made him feel that no sign of doubt or fear must lessen it.
 
　　The men did their part readily now, but Emil knew that if starvationand despair made brutes of them, his task might be a terrible one. Sohe clutched his courage with both handg, kept up a manly front, andspoke so cheerily of their good chances, that all instinctivelyturned to him for guidance and support.
 
　　The first day and night passed in comparative comfort, but when thethird came, things looked dark and hope began to fail. The woundedman was delirious, the wife worn out with anxiety and suspense, thegirl weak for want of food, having put away half her biscuit for hermother, and given her share of water to wet her father's feverishlips. The sailors ceased rowing and sat grimly waiting, openlyreproaching their leader for not following their advice, othersdemanding more food, all waxing dangerous as privation and painbrought out the animal instincts lurking in them. Emil did his best,but mortal man was helpless there, and he could only turn his haggardface from the pitiless sky, that dropped no rain for their thirst, tothe boundless sea where no sail appeared to gladden their longingeyes. All day he tried to cheer and comfort them, while hungergnawed, thirst parched, and growing fear lay heavy at his heart. Hetold stories to the men, implored them to bear up for the helplesswomen's sake, and promised rewards if they would pull while they hadstrength to regain the lost route, as nearly as he could make it out,and increase their chance of rescue. He rigged an awning ofsailcloth over the suffering man and tended him like a son, comfortedthe wife, and tried to make the pale girl forget herself, by singingevery song he knew or recounting his adventures by land and sea, tillshe smiled and took heart; for all ended well.
 
　　The fourth day came and the supply of food and water was nearly gone.
 
　　Emil proposed to keep it for the sick man and the women, but two ofthe men rebelled, demanding their share. Emil gave up his as anexample, and several of the good fellows followed it, with the quietheroism which so often crops up in rough but manly natures. Thisshamed the others, and for another day an ominous peace reigned inthat little world of suffering and suspense. But during the night,while Emil, worn out with fatigue, left the watch to the mosttrustworthy sailor, that he might snatch an hour's rest, these twomen got at the stores and stole the last of the bread and water, andthe one bottle of brandy, which was carefully hoarded to keep uptheir strength and make the brackish water drinkable. Half mad withthirst, they drank greedily and by morning one was in a stupor, fromwhich he never woke; the other so crazed by the strong stimulant,that when Emil tried to control him, he leaped overboard and waslost. Horror-stricken by this terrible scene, the other men weresubmissive henceforth, and the boat floated on and on with its sadfreight of suffering souls and bodies.
 
　　Another trial came to them that left all more despairing than before.
 
　　A sail appeared, and for a time a frenzy of joy prevailed, to beturned to bitterest disappointment when it passed by, too far away tosee the signals waved to them or hear the frantic cries for help thatrang across the sea. Emil's heart sank then, for the captain seemeddying, and the women could not hold out much longer. He kept up tillnight came; then in the darkness, broken only by the feeble murmuringof the sick man, the whispered prayers of the poor wife, theceaseless swash of waves, Emil hid his face, and had an hour ofsilent agony that aged him more than years of happy life could havedone. It was not the physical hardship that daunted him, though wantand weakness tortured him; it was his dreadful powerlessness toconquer the cruel fate that seemed hanging over them. The men hecared little for, since these perils were but a part of the life theychose; but the master he loved, the good woman who had been so kindto him, the sweet girl whose winsome presence had made the longvoyage so pleasant for them all--if he could only save these dear andinnocent creatures from a cruel death, he felt that he couldwillingly give his life for them.
 
　　As he sat there with his head in his hands, bowed down by the firstgreat trial of his young life, the starless sky overhead, therestless sea beneath, and all around him suffering, for which he hadno help, a soft sound broke the silence, and he listened like one ina dream. It was Mary singing to her mother, who lay sobbing in herarms, spent with this long anguish. A very faint and broken voice itwas, for the poor girl's lips were parched with thirst; but theloving heart turned instinctively to the great Helper in this hour ofdespair, and He heard her feeble cry. It was a sweet old hynm oftensung at Plumfield; and as he listened, all the happy past came backso clearly that Emil forgot the bitter present, and was at homeagain. His talk on the housetop with Aunt Jo seemed but yesterday,and, with a pang of self-reproach, he thought:
 
　　'The scarlet strand! I must remember it, and do my duty to the end.
 
　　Steer straight, old boy; and if you can't come into port, go downwith all sail set.'
 
　　Then, as the soft voice crooned on to lull the weary woman to afitful sleep, Emil for a little while forgot his burden in a dream ofPlumfield. He saw them all, heard the familiar voices, felt the gripof welcoming hands, and seemed to say to himself: 'Well, they shallnot be ashamed of me if I never see them any more.'
 
　　A sudden shout startled him from that brief rest, and a drop on hisforehead told him that the blessed rain had come at last, bringingsalvation with it; for thirst is harder to bear than hunger, heat, orcold. Welcomed by cries of joy, all lifted up their parched lips,held out their hands, and spread their garments to catch the greatdrops that soon came pouring down to cool the sick man's fever,quench the agony of thirst, and bring refreshment to every weary bodyin the boat. All night it fell, all night the castaways revelled inthe saving shower, and took heart again, like dying plants revived byheaven's dew. The clouds broke away at dawn, and Emil sprung up,wonderfully braced and cheered by those hours of silent gratitude forthis answer to their cry for help. But this was not all; as his eyeswept the horizon, clear against the rosy sky shone the white sailsof a ship, so near that they could see the pennon at her mast-headand black figures moving on the deck.
 
　　One cry broke from all those eager throats, and rang across the sea,as every man waved hat or handkerchief and the women stretchedimploring hands towards this great white angel of deliverance comingdown upon them as if the fresh wind filled every sail to help her on.
 
　　No disappointment now; answering signals assured them of help; and inthe rapture of that moment the happy women fell on Emil's neck,giving him his reward in tears and blessings as their grateful heartsoverflowed. He always said that was the proudest moment of his life,as he stood there holding Mary in his arms; for the brave girl, whohad kept up so long, broke down then, and clung to him half fainting;while her mother busied herself about the invalid, who seemed to feelthe joyful stir, and gave an order, as if again on the deck of hislost ship.
 
　　It was soon over; and then all were safely aboard the good Urania,homeward bound. Emil saw his friends in tender hands, his men amongtheir mates, and told the story of the wreck before he thought ofhimself. The savoury odour of the soup, carried by to the cabin forthe ladies, reminded him that he was starving, and a sudden staggerbetrayed his weakness. He was instantly borne away, to be half killedby kindness, and being fed, clothed, and comforted, was left to rest.
 
　　Just as the surgeon left the state-room, he asked in his brokenvoice: 'What day is this? My head is so confused, I've lost myreckoning.'
 
　　'Thanksgiving Day, man! And we'll give you a regular New Englanddinner, if you'll eat it,' answered the surgeon heartily.
 
　　But Emil was too spent to do anything, except lie still and givethanks, more fervently and gratefully than ever before, for theblessed gift of life, which was the sweeter for a sense of dutyfaithfully performed.
Chapter 12 Dan's Christmas
 Where was Dan? In prison. Alas for Mrs Jo! how her heart would haveached if she had known that while old Plum shone with Christmas cheerher boy sat alone in his cell, trying to read the little book shegave him, with eyes dimmed now and then by the hot tears no physicalsuffering had ever wrung from him, and longing with a homesick heartfor all that he had lost.
 
　　Yes, Dan was in prison; but no cry for help from him as he faced theterrible strait he was in with the dumb despair of an Indian at thestake; for his own bosom sin had brought him there, and this was tobe the bitter lesson that tamed the lawless spirit and taught himself-control.
 
　　The story of his downfall is soon told; for it came, as so oftenhappens, just when he felt unusually full of high hopes, goodresolutions, and dreams of a better life. On his journey he met apleasant young fellow, and naturally felt an interest in him, asBlair was on his way to join his elder brothers on a ranch in Kansas.
 
　　Card-playing was going on in the smoking-car, and the lad--for hewas barely twenty--tired with the long journey, beguiled the way withsuch partners as appeared, being full of spirits, and a littleintoxicated with the freedom of the West. Dan, true to his promise,would not join, but watched with intense interest the games that wenton, and soon made up his mind that two of the men were sharpersanxious to fleece the boy, who had imprudently displayed awell-filled pocket-book. Dan always had a soft spot in his heart forany younger, weaker creature whom he met, and something about the ladreminded him of Teddy; so he kept an eye on Blair, and warned himagainst his new friends.
 
　　Vainly, of course; for when all stopped overnight in one of the greatcities, Dan missed the boy from the hotel whither he had taken himfor safe-keeping; and learning who had come for him, went to findhim, calling himself a fool for his pains, yet unable to leave theconfiding boy to the dangers that surrounded him.
 
　　He found him gambling in a low place with the men, who were bound tohave his money; and by the look of relief on Blair's anxious facewhen he saw him Dan knew without words that things were going badlywith him, and he saw the peril too late.
 
　　'I can't come yet--I've lost; it's not my money; I must get it back,or I dare not face my brothers,' whispered the poor lad, when Danbegged him to get away without further loss. Shame and fear made himdesperate; and he played on, sure that he could recover the moneyconfided to his care. Seeing Dan's resolute face, keen eye, andtravelled air, the sharpers were wary, played fair, and let the boywin a little; but they had no mind to give up their prey, and findingthat Dan stood sentinel at the boy's back, an ominous glance wasexchanged between them, which meant:
 
　　'We must get this fellow out of the way.'
 
　　Dan saw it, and was on his guard; for he and Blair were strangers,evil deeds are easily done in such places, and no tales told. But hewould not desert the boy, and still kept watch of every card till heplainly detected false play, and boldly said so. High words passed,Dan's indignation overcame his prudence; and when the cheat refusedto restore his plunder with insulting words and drawn pistol, Dan'shot temper flashed out, and he knocked the man down with a blow thatsent him crashing head first against a stove, to roll senseless andbleeding to the floor. A wild scene followed, but in the midst of itDan whispered to the boy: 'Get away, and hold your tongue. Don't mindme.'
 
　　Frightened and bewildered, Blair quitted the city at once, leavingDan to pass the night in the lock-up, and a few days later to standin court charged with manslaughter; for the man was dead. Dan had nofriends, and having once briefly told the story, held his peace,anxious to keep all knowledge of this sad affair from those at home.
 
　　He even concealed his name--giving that of David Kent, as he had doneseveral times before in emergencies. It was all over very soon; butas there were extenuating circumstances his sentence was a year inprison, with hard labour.
 
　　Dazed by the rapidity with which this horrible change in his lifecame upon him, Dan did not fully realize it till the iron doorclanged behind him and he sat alone in a cell as narrow, cold, andsilent as a tomb. He knew that a word would bring Mr Laurie to helpand comfort him; but he could not bear to tell of this disgrace, orsee the sorrow and the shame it would cause the friends who hoped somuch for him.
 
　　'No,' he said, clenching his fist, 'I'll let them think me dead first.
 
　　I shall be if I am kept here long'; and he sprang up to pace thestone floor like a caged lion, with a turmoil of wrath and grief,rebellion and remorse, seething in heart and brain, till he felt asif he should go mad and beat upon the walls that shut him away fromthe liberty which was his life. For days he suffered terribly, thenworn out, sank into a black melancholy sadder to see than hisexcitement.
 
　　The warden of this prison was a rough man who had won the ill will ofall by unnecessary harshness, but the chaplain was full of sympathy,and did his hard duty faithfully and tenderly. He laboured with poorDan, but seemed to make no impression, and was forced to wait tillwork had soothed the excited nerves and captivity tamed the proudspirit that would suffer but not complain.
 
　　Dan was put in the brush-shop, and feeling that activity was his onlysalvation, worked with a feverish energy that soon won the approvalof the master and the envy of less skilful mates. Day after day hesat in his place, watched by an armed overseer, forbidden any butnecessary words, no intercourse with the men beside him, no changebut from cell to shop, no exercise but the dreary marches to and fro,each man's hand on the other's shoulder keeping step with the drearytramp so different from the ringing tread of soldiers. Silent, gaunt,and grim, Dan did his daily task, ate his bitter bread, and obeyedcommands with a rebellious flash of the eye, that made the wardensay:
 
　　'That's a dangerous man. Watch him. He'll break out some day.'
 
　　There were others more dangerous than he, because older in crime andready for any desperate outbreak to change the monotony of longsentences. These men soon divined Dan's mood, and in the mysteriousway convicts invent, managed to convey to him before a month was overthat plans were being made for a mutiny at the first opportunity.
 
　　Thanksgiving Day was one of the few chances for them to speaktogether as they enjoyed an hour of freedom in the prison yard. Thenall would be settled and the rash attempt made if possible, probablyto end in bloodshed and defeat for most, but liberty for a few. Danhad already planned his own escape and bided his time, growing moreand more moody, fierce, and rebellious, as loss of liberty wore uponsoul and body; for this sudden change from his free, healthy life tosuch a narrow, gloomy, and miserable one, could not but have aterrible effect upon one of Dan's temperament and age.
 
　　He brooded over his ruined life, gave up all his happy hopes andplans, felt that he could never face dear old Plumfield again, ortouch those friendly hands, with the stain of blood upon his own. Hedid not care for the wretched man whom he had killed, for such a lifewas better ended, he thought; but the disgrace of prison would neverbe wiped out of his memory, though the cropped hair would grow again,the grey suit easily be replaced, and the bolts and bars left farbehind.
 
　　'It's all over with me; I've spoilt my life, now let it go. I'll giveup the fight and get what pleasure I can anywhere, anyhow. They shallthink me dead and so still care for me, but never know what I am.
 
　　Poor Mother Bhaer! she tried to help me, but it's no use; thefirebrand can't be saved.'
 
　　And dropping his head in his hands as he sat on his low bed, Danwould mourn over all he had lost in tearless misery, till mercifulsleep would comfort him with dreams of the happy days when the boysplayed together, or those still later and happier ones when allsmiled on him, and Plumfield seemed to have gained a new and curiouscharm.
 
　　There was one poor fellow in Dan's shop whose fate was harder thanhis, for his sentence expired in the spring, but there was littlehope of his living till that time; and the coldest-hearted man pitiedpoor Mason as he sat coughing his life away in that close place andcounting the weary days yet to pass before he could see his wife andlittle child again. There was some hope that he might be pardonedout, but he had no friends to bestir themselves in the matter, and itwas evident that the great Judge's pardon would soon end his patientpain for ever.
 
　　Dan pitied him more than he dared to show, and this one tenderemotion in that dark time was like the little flower that sprung upbetween the stones of the prison yard and saved the captive fromdespair, in the beautiful old story. Dan helped Mason with his workwhen he was too feeble to finish his task, and the grateful look thatthanked him was a ray of sunshine to cheer his cell when he wasalone. Mason envied the splendid health of his neighbour, and mournedto see it wasting there. He was a peaceful soul and tried, as far asa whispered word or warning glance could do it, to deter Dan fromjoining the 'bad lot', as the rebels were called. But having turnedhis face from the light, Dan found the downward way easy, and took agrim satisfaction in the prospect of a general outbreak during whichhe might revenge himself upon the tyrannical warden, and strike ablow for his own liberty, feeling that an hour of insurrection wouldbe a welcome vent for the pent-up passions that tormented him. He hadtamed many a wild animal, but his own lawless spirit was too much forhim, till he found the curb that made him master of himself.
 
　　The Sunday before Thanksgiving, as he sat in chapel, Dan observedseveral guests in the seats reserved for them, and looked anxiouslyto see if any familiar face was there; for he had a mortal fear thatsomeone from home would suddenly confront him. No, all werestrangers, and he soon forgot them in listening to the chaplain'scheerful words, and the sad singing of many heavy hearts. Peopleoften spoke to the convicts, so it caused no surprise when, on beinginvited to address them, one of the ladies rose and said she wouldtell them a little story; which announcement caused the youngerlisteners to pack up their ears, and even the older ones to lookinterested; for any change in their monotonous life was welcome.
 
　　The speaker was a middle-aged woman in black, with a sympatheticface, eyes full of compassion, and a voice that seemed to warm theheart, because of certain motherly tones in it. She reminded Dan ofMrs Jo, and he listened intently to every word, feeling that each wasmeant for him, because by chance, they came at the moment when heneeded a softening memory to break up the ice of despair which wasblighting all the good impulses of his nature.
 
　　It was a very simple little story, but it caught the men's attentionat once, being about two soldiers in a hospital during the late war,both badly wounded in the right arm, and both anxious to save thesebreadwinners and go home unmaimed. One was patient, docile, andcheerfully obeyed orders, even when told that the arm must go. Hesubmitted and after much suffering recovered, grateful for life,though he could fight no more. The other rebelled, would listen to noadvice, and having delayed too long, died a lingering death, bitterlyregretting his folly when it was too late. 'Now, as all storiesshould have a little moral, let me tell you mine,' added the lady,with a smile, as she looked at the row of young men before her, sadlywondering what brought them there.
 
　　'This is a hospital for soldiers wounded in life's battle; here aresick souls, weak wills, insane passions, blind consciences, all theills that come from broken laws, bringing their inevitable pain andpunishment with them, There is hope and help for every one, for God'smercy is infinite and man's charity is great; but penitence andsubmission must come before the cure is possible. Pay the forfeitmanfully, for it is just; but from the suffering and shame wring newstrength for a nobler life. The scar will remain, but it is betterfor a man to lose both arms than his soul; and these hard years,instead of being lost, may be made the most precious of your lives,if they teach you to rule yourselves. O friends, try to outlive thebitter past, to wash the sin away, and begin anew. If not for yourown sakes, for that of the dear mothers, wives, and children, whowait and hope so patiently for you. Remember them, and do not letthem love and long in vain. And if there be any here so forlorn thatthey have no friend to care for them, never forget the Father whosearms are always open to receive, forgive, and comfort His prodigalsons, even at the eleventh hour.' There the little sermon ended; butthe preacher of it felt that her few hearty words had not beenuttered in vain, for one boy's head was down, and several faces worethe softened look which told that a tender memory was touched. Danwas forced to set his lips to keep them steady, and drop his eyes tohide the sudden dew that dimmed them when waiting, hoping friendswere spoken of. He was glad to be alone in his cell again, and satthinking deeply, instead of trying to forget himself in sleep. Itseemed as if those words were just what he needed to show him wherehe stood and how fateful the next few days might be to him. Should hejoin the 'bad lot', and perhaps add another crime to the one alreadycommitted, lengthen the sentence already so terrible to bear,deliberately turn his back on all that was good, and mar the futurethat might yet be redeemed? Or should he, like the wiser man in thestory, submit, bear the just punishment, try to be better for it; andthough the scar would remain, it might serve as a reminder of abattle not wholly lost, since he had saved his soul though innocencewas gone? Then he would dare go home, perhaps, confess, and findfresh strength in the pity and consolation of those who never gavehim up.
 
　　Good and evil fought for Dan that night as did the angel and thedevil for Sintram, and it was hard to tell whether lawless nature orloving heart would conquer. Remorse and resentment, shame and sorrow,pride and passion, made a battle-field of that narrow cell, and thepoor fellow felt as if he had fiercer enemies to fight now than anyhe had met in all his wanderings. A little thing turned the scale, asit so often does in these mysterious hearts of ours, and a touch ofsympathy helped Dan decide the course which would bless or ban hislife.
 
　　In the dark hour before the dawn, as he lay wakeful on his bed, a rayof light shone through the bars, the bolts turned softly, and a mancame in. It was the good chaplain, led by the same instinct thatbrings a mother to her sick child's pillow; for long experience asnurse of souls had taught him to see the signs of hope in the hardfaces about him, and to know when the moment came for a helpful wordand the cordial of sincere prayer that brings such comfort andhealing to tried and troubled hearts. He had been to Dan before atunexpected hours, but always found him sullen, indifferent, orrebellious, and had gone away to patiently bide his time. Now it hadcome; a look of relief was in the prisoner's face as the light shoneon it, and the sound of a human voice was strangely comfortable afterlistening to the whispers of the passions, doubts, and fears whichhad haunted the cell for hours, dismaying Dan by their power, andshowing him how much he needed help to fight the good fight, since hehad no armour of his own.
 
　　'Kent, poor Mason has gone. He left a message for you, and I feltimpelled to come and give it now, because I think you were touched bywhat we heard today, and in need of the help Mason tried to giveyou,' said the chaplain, taking the one seat and fixing his kind eyeson the grim figure in the bed.
 
　　'Thank you, sir, I'd like to hear it,' was all Dan's answer; but heforgot himself in pity for the poor fellow dead in prison, with nolast look at wife or child.
 
　　He went suddenly, but remembered you, and begged me to say thesewords: "Tell him not to do it, but to hold on, do his best, and whenhis time is out go right to Mary, and she'll make him welcome for mysake. He's got no friends in these parts and will feel lonesome, buta woman's always safe and comfortable when a fellow's down on hisluck. Give him my love and good-bye for he was kind to me, and Godwill bless him for it." Then he died quietly, and tomorrow will gohome with God's pardon, since man's came too late.'
 
　　Dan said nothing, but laid his arm across his face and lay quitestill. Seeing that the pathetic little message had done its work evenbetter than he hoped, the chaplain went on, unconscious how soothinghis paternal voice was to the poor prisoner who longed to 'go home',but felt he had forfeited the right.
 
　　'I hope you won't disappoint this humble friend whose last thoughtwas for you. I know that there is trouble brewing, and fear that youmay be tempted to lend a hand on the wrong side. Don't do it, for theplot will not succeed--it never does--and it would be a pity to spoilyour record which is fair so far. Keep up your courage, my son, andgo out at the year's end better, not worse, for this hard experience.
 
　　Remember a grateful woman waits to welcome and thank you if you haveno friends of your own; if you have, do your best for their sake, andlet us ask God to help you as He only can.'
 
　　Then waiting for no answer the good man prayed heartily, and Danlistened as he never had before; for the lonely hour, the dyingmessage, the sudden uprising of his better self, made it seem as ifsome kind angel had come to save and comfort him. After that nightthere was a change in Dan, though no one knew it but the chaplain;for to all the rest he was the same silent, stern, unsocial fellow asbefore, and turning his back on the bad and the good alike, found hisonly pleasure in the books his friend brought him. Slowly, as thesteadfast drop wears away the rock, the patient kindness of this manwon Dan's confidence, and led by him he began to climb out of theValley of Humiliation towards the mountains, whence, through theclouds, one can catch glimpses of the Celestial City whither all truepilgrims sooner or later turn their wistful eyes and stumbling feet.
 
　　There were many back-slidings, many struggles with Giant Despair andfiery Apollyon, many heavy hours when life did not seem worth livingand Mason's escape the only hope. But through all, the grasp of afriendly hand, the sound of a brother's voice, the unquenchabledesire to atone for the past by a better future, and win the right tosee home again, kept poor Dan to his great task as the old year drewto its end, and the new waited to turn another leaf in the book whosehardest lesson he was learning now.
 
　　At Christmas he yearned so for Plumfield that he devised a way tosend a word of greeting to cheer their anxious hearts, and comforthis own. He wrote to Mary Mason, who lived in another State, askingher to mail the letter he enclosed. In it he merely said he was welland busy, had given up the farm, and had other plans which he wouldtell later; would not be home before autumn probably, nor writeoften, but was all right, and sent love and merry Christmas toeveryone.
 
　　Then he took up his solitary life again, and tried to pay his forfeitmanfully.
Chapter 13 Nat's New Year
 'I don't expect to hear from Emil yet, and Nat writes regularly, butwhere is Dan? Only two or three postals since he went. Such anenergetic fellow as he is could buy up all the farms in Kansas bythis time,' said Mrs Jo one morning when the mail came in and no cardor envelope bore Dan's dashing hand.
 
　　'He never writes often, you know, but does his work and then comeshome. Months and years seem to mean little to him, and he is probablyprospecting in the wilderness, forgetful of time,' answered Mr Bhaer,deep in one of Nat's long letters from Leipzig.
 
　　'But he promised he would let me know how he got on, and Dan keepshis word if he can. I'm afraid something has happened to him'; andMrs Jo comforted herself by patting Don's head, as he came at thesound of his master's name to look at her with eyes almost human intheir wistful intelligence.
 
　　'Don't worry, Mum dear, nothing ever happens to the old fellow.
 
　　He'll turn up all right, and come stalking in some day with agold-mine in one pocket and a prairie in the other, as jolly as agrig,' said Ted, who was in no haste to deliver Octoo to her rightfulowner.
 
　　'Perhaps he has gone to Montana and given up the farm plan. He seemedto like Indians best, I thought'; and Rob went to help his motherwith her pile of letters and his cheerful suggestions.
 
　　'I hope so, it would suit him best. But I am sure he would have toldus his change of plan and sent for some money to work with. No, Ifeel in my prophetic bones that something is wrong,' said Mrs Jo,looking as solemn as Fate in a breakfast-cap.
 
　　'Then we shall hear; ill news always travels fast. Don't borrowtrouble, Jo, but hear how well Nat is getting on. I'd no idea the boywould care for anything but music. My good friend Baumgarten haslaunched him well, and it will do him good if he lose not his head. Agood lad, but new to the world, and Leipzig is full of snares for theunwary. Gott be with him!'
 
　　The Professor read Nat's enthusiastic account of certain literary andmusical parties he had been to, the splendours of the opera, thekindness of his new friends, the delight of studying under such amaster as Bergmann, his hopes of rapid gain, and his great gratitudeto those who had opened this enchanted world to him.
 
　　'That, now, is satisfactory and comfortable. I felt that Nat hadunsuspected power in him before he went away; he was so manly andfull of excellent plans,' said Mrs Jo, in a satisfied tone.
 
　　'We shall see. He will doubtless get his lesson and be the better forit. That comes to us all in our young days. I hope it will not be toohard for our good Jungling,' answered the Professor, with a wisesmile, remembering his own student life in Germany.
 
　　He was right; and Nat was already getting his lesson in life with arapidity which would have astonished his friends at home. Themanliness over which Mrs Jo rejoiced was developing in unexpectedways, and quiet Nat had plunged into the more harmless dissipationsof the gay city with all the ardour of an inexperienced youth takinghis first sip of pleasure. The entire freedom and sense ofindependence was delicious, for many benefits began to burden him,and he longed to stand on his own legs and make his own way. No oneknew his past here; and with a well-stocked wardrobe, a handsome sumat his banker's, and the best teacher in Leipzig, he made his debutas a musical young gentleman, presented by the much-respectedProfessor Bhaer and the wealthy Mr Laurence, who had many friendsglad to throw open their houses to his protege. Thanks to theseintroductions, his fluent German, modest manners, and undeniabletalent, the stranger was cordially welcomed, and launched at onceinto a circle which many an ambitious young man strove in vain toenter.
 
　　All this rather turned Nat's head; and as he sat in the brilliantopera-house, chatted among the ladies at some select coffee-party, orwhisked an eminent professor's amiable daughter down the room, tryingto imagine she was Daisy, he often asked himself if this gay fellowcould be the poor homeless little Street musician who once stoodwaiting in the rain at the gates of Plumfield. His heart was true,his impulses good, and his ambitions high; but the weak side of hisnature came uppermost here; vanity led him astray, pleasureintoxicated him, and for a time he forgot everything but the delightsof this new and charming life. Without meaning to deceive, he allowedpeople to imagine him a youth of good family and prospects; heboasted a little of Mr Laurie's wealth and influence, of ProfessorBhaer's eminence, and the flourishing college at which he himself hadbeen educated. Mrs Jo was introduced to the sentimental Frauleins whoread her books, and the charms and virtues of his own dear Madchenconfided to sympathetic mammas. All these boyish boastings andinnocent vanities were duly circulated among the gossips, and hisimportance much increased thereby, to his surprise and gratification,as well as some shame.
 
　　But they bore fruit that was bitter in the end; for, finding that hewas considered one of the upper class, it very soon became impossiblefor him to live in the humble quarters he had chosen, or to lead thestudious, quiet life planned for him. He met other students, youngofficers, and gay fellows of all sorts, and was flattered at beingwelcomed among them; though it was a costly pleasure, and often lefta thorn of regret to vex his honest conscience. He was tempted totake better rooms in a more fashionable street, leaving good FrauTetzel to lament his loss, and his artist neighbour, FrauleinVogelstein, to shake her grey ringlets and predict his return, asadder and a wiser man.
 
　　The sum placed at his disposal for expenses and such simple pleasuresas his busy life could command seemed a fortune to Nat, though it wassmaller than generous Mr Laurie first proposed. Professor Bhaerwisely counselled prudence, as Nat was unused to the care of money,and the good man knew the temptations that a well-filled purse makespossible at this pleasure-loving age. So Nat enjoyed his handsomelittle apartment immensely, and insensibly let many unaccustomedluxuries creep in. He loved his music and never missed a lesson; butthe hours he should have spent in patient practice were too oftenwasted at theatre, ball, beer-garden, or club--doing no harm beyondthat waste of precious time, and money not his own; for he had novices, and took his recreation like a gentleman, so far. But slowly achange for the worse was beginning to show itself, and he felt it.
 
　　These first steps along the flowery road were downward, not upward;and the constant sense of disloyalty which soon began to haunt himmade Nat feel, in the few quiet hours he gave himself, that all wasnot well with him, spite of the happy whirl in which he lived.
 
　　'Another month, and then I will be steady,' he said more than once,trying to excuse the delay by the fact that all was new to him, thathis friends at home wished him to be happy, and that society wasgiving him the polish he needed. But as each month slipped away itgrew harder to escape; he was inevitably drawn on, and it was so easyto drift with the tide that he deferred the evil day as long aspossible. Winter festivities followed the more wholesome summerpleasures, and Nat found them more costly; for the hospitable ladiesexpected some return from the stranger; and carriages, bouquets,theatre tickets, and all the little expenses a young man cannotescape at such times, told heavily on the purse which seemedbottomless at first. Taking Mr Laurie for his model, Nat became quitea gallant, and was universally liked; for through all the newlyacquired airs and graces the genuine honesty and simplicity of hischaracter plainly shone, winning confidence and affection from allwho knew him.
 
　　Among these was a certain amiable old lady with a musicaldaughter--well-born but poor, and very anxious to marry the aforesaiddaughter to some wealthy man. Nat's little fictions concerning hisprospects and friends charmed the gnadige Frau as much as his musicand devoted manners did the sentimental Minna. Their quiet parlourseemed homelike and restful to Nat, when tired of gayer scenes; andthe motherly interest of the elder lady was sweet and comfortable tohim; while the tender blue eyes of the pretty girl were always sofull of welcome when he came, of regret when he left, and ofadmiration when he played to her, that he found it impossible to keepaway from this attractive spot. He meant no harm, and feared nodanger, having confided to the Frau Mamma that he was betrothed; sohe continued to call, little dreaming what ambitious hopes the oldlady cherished, nor the peril there was in receiving the adoration ofa romantic German girl, till it was too late to spare her pain andhimself great regret.
 
　　Of course some inkling of these new and agreeable experiences gotinto the voluminous letters he never was too gay, too busy, or tootired to write each week; and while Daisy rejoiced over his happinessand success, and the boys laughed at the idea of 'old Chirper comingout as a society man', the elders looked sober, and said amongthemselves:
 
　　'He is going too fast; he must have a word of warning, or trouble maycome.'
 
　　But Mr Laurie said: 'Oh, let him have his fling; he's been dependentand repressed long enough. He can't go far with the money he has, andI've no fear of his getting into debt. He's too timid and too honestto be reckless. It is his first taste of freedom; let him enjoy it,and he'll work the better by and by; I know--and I'm sure I'm right.'
 
　　So the warnings were very gentle, and the good people waitedanxiously to hear more of hard study, and less of 'splendid times'.
 
　　Daisy sometimes wondered, with a pang of her faithful heart, if oneof the charming Minnas, Hildegardes, and Lottchens mentioned were notstealing her Nat away from her; but she never asked, always wrotecalmly and cheerfully, and looked in vain for any hint of change inthe letters that were worn out with much reading.
 
　　Month after month slipped away, till the holidays came with gifts,good wishes, and brilliant festivities. Nat expected to enjoy himselfvery much, and did at first; for a German Christmas is a spectacleworth seeing. But he paid dearly for the abandon with which he threwhimself into the gaieties of that memorable week; and on New Year'sDay the reckoning came. It seemed as if some malicious fairy hadprepared the surprises that arrived, so unwelcome were they, somagical the change they wrought, turning his happy world into a sceneof desolation and despair as suddenly as a transformation at thepantomime.
 
　　The first came in the morning when, duly armed with costly bouquetsand bon-bons, he went to thank Minna and her mother for the bracesembroidered with forget-me-nots and the silk socks knit by the oldlady's nimble fingers, which he had found upon his table that day.
 
　　The Frau Mamma received him graciously; but when he asked for thedaughter the good lady frankly demanded what his intentions were,adding that certain gossip which had reached her ear made itnecessary for him to declare himself or come no more, as Minna'speace must not be compromised.
 
　　A more panic-stricken youth was seldom seen than Nat as he receivedthis unexpected demand. He saw too late that his American style ofgallantry had deceived the artless girl, and might be used withterrible effect by the artful mother, if she chose to do it. Nothingbut the truth could save him, and he had the honour and honesty totell it faithfully. A sad scene followed; for Nat was obliged tostrip off his fictitious splendour, confess himself only a poorstudent, and humbly ask pardon for the thoughtless freedom with whichhe had enjoyed their too confiding hospitality. If he had any doubtsof Frau Schomburg's motives and desires, they were speedily set atrest by the frankness with which she showed her disappointment, thevigour with which she scolded him, and the scorn with which she casthim off when her splendid castles in the air collapsed.
 
　　The sincerity of Nat's penitence softened her a little and sheconsented to a farewell word with Minna, who had listened at thekeyhole, and was produced drenched in tears, to fall on Nat's bosom,crying: 'Ah, thou dear one, never can I forget thee, though my heartis broken!'
 
　　This was worse than the scolding; for the stout lady also wept, andit was only after much German gush and twaddle that he escaped,feeling like another Werther; while the deserted Lotte consoledherself with the bonbons, her mother with the more valuable gifts.
 
　　The second surprise arrived as he dined with Professor Baumgarten.
 
　　His appetite had been effectually taken away by the scene of themorning, and his spirits received another damper when a fellowstudent cheerfully informed him that he was about to go to America,and should make it his agreeable duty to call on the 'lieber HerrProfessor Bhaer', to tell him how gaily his protege was disportinghimself at Leipzig. Nat's heart died within him as he imagined theeffect these glowing tales would have at Plumfield--not that he hadwilfully deceived them, but in his letters many things were leftuntold; and when Carlsen added, with a friendly wink, that he wouldmerely hint at the coming betrothal of the fair Minna and his'heart's friend', Nat found himself devoutly hoping that this otherinconvenient heart's friend might go to the bottom of the sea beforehe reached Plumfield to blast all his hopes by these tales of amis-spent winter. Collecting his wits, he cautioned Carlsen with whathe flattered himself was Mephistophelian art, and gave him suchconfused directions that it would be a miracle if he ever foundProfessor Bhaer. But the dinner was spoilt for Nat, and he got awayas soon as possible, to wander disconsolately about the streets, withno heart for the theatre or the supper he was to share with some gaycomrades afterwards. He comforted himself a little by giving alms tosundry beggars, making two children happy with gilded gingerbread,and drinking a lonely glass of beer, in which he toasted his Daisyand wished himself a better year than the last had been.
 
　　Going home at length, he found a third surprise awaiting him in theshower of bills which had descended upon him like a snowstorm,burying him in an avalanche of remorse, despair, and self-disgust.
 
　　These bills were so many and so large that he was startled anddismayed; for, as Mr Bhaer wisely predicted, he knew little about thevalue of money. It would take every dollar at the bankers to pay themall at once, and leave him penniless for the next six months, unlesshe wrote home for more. He would rather starve than do that; and hisfirst impulse was to seek help at the gaming-table, whither his newfriends had often tempted him. But he had promised Mr Bhaer to resistwhat then had seemed an impossible temptation; and now he would notadd another fault to the list already so long. Borrow he would not,nor beg. What could he do? For these appalling bills must be paid,and the lessons go on; or his journey was an ignominious failure. Buthe must live meantime. And how? Bowed down with remorse for the follyof these months, he saw too late whither he was drifting, and forhours paced up and down his pretty rooms, floundering in a Slough ofDespond, with no helping hand to pull him out--at least he thought sotill letters were brought in, and among fresh bills lay one well-wornenvelope with an American stamp in the corner.
 
　　Ah, how welcome it was! how eagerly he read the long pages full ofaffectionate wishes from all at home! For everyone had sent a line,and as each familiar name appeared, his eyes grew dimmer and dimmertill, as he read the last--'God bless my boy! Mother Bhaer'--he brokedown; and laying his head on his arms, blistered the paper with arain of tears that eased his heart and washed away the boyish sinsthat now lay so heavy on his conscience.
 
　　'Dear people, how they love and trust me! And how bitterly they wouldbe disappointed if they knew what a fool I've been! I'll fiddle inthe streets again before I'll ask for help from them!' cried Nat,brushing away the tears of which he was ashamed, although he felt thegood they had done.
 
　　Now he seemed to see more clearly what to do; for the helping handhad been stretched across the sea, and Love, the dear Evangelist, hadlifted him out of the slough and shown him the narrow gate, beyondwhich deliverance lay. When the letter had been reread, and onecorner where a daisy was painted, passionately kissed, Nat feltstrong enough to face the worst and conquer it. Every bill should bepaid, every salable thing of his own sold, these costly rooms givenup; and once back with thrifty Frau Tetzel, he would find work ofsome sort by which to support himself, as many another student did.
 
　　He must give up the new friends, turn his back on the gay life, ceaseto be a butterfly, and take his place among the grubs. It was theonly honest thing to do, but very hard for the poor fellow to crushhis little vanities, renounce the delights so dear to the young, ownhis folly, and step down from his pedestal to be pitied, laughed at,and forgotten.
 
　　It took all Nat's pride and courage to do this, for his was asensitive nature; esteem was very precious to him, failure verybitter, and nothing but the inborn contempt for meanness and deceitkept him from asking help or trying to hide his need by somedishonest device. As he sat alone that night, Mr Bhaer's words cameback to him with curious clearness, and he saw himself a boy again atPlumfield, punishing his teacher as a lesson to himself, whentimidity had made him lie.
 
　　'He shall not suffer for me again, and I won't be a sneak if I am afool. I'll go and tell Professor Baumgarten all about it and ask hisadvice. I'd rather face a loaded cannon; but it must be done. ThenI'll sell out, pay my debts, and go back where I belong. Better be anhonest pauper than a jackdaw among peacocks'; and Nat smiled in themidst of his trouble, as he looked about him at the little eleganciesof his room, remembering what he came from.
 
　　He kept his word manfully, and was much comforted to find that hisexperience was an old story to the professor, who approved his plan,thinking wisely that the discipline would be good for him, and wasvery kind in offering help and promising to keep the secret of hisfolly from his friend Bhaer till Nat had redeemed himself.
 
　　The first week of the new year was spent by our prodigal in carryingout his plan with penitent dispatch, and his birthday found him alonein the little room high up at Frau Tetzel's, with nothing of hisformer splendour, but sundry unsalable keepsakes from the buxommaidens, who mourned his absence deeply. His male friends hadridiculed, pitied, and soon left him alone, with one or twoexceptions, who offered their purses generously and promised to standby him. He was lonely and heavy-hearted, and sat brooding over hissmall fire as he remembered the last New Year's Day at Plumfield,when at this hour he was dancing with his Daisy.
 
　　A tap at the door roused him, and with a careless 'Herein', he waitedto see who had climbed so far for his sake. It was the good Frauproudly bearing a tray, on which stood a bottle of wine and anastonishing cake bedecked with sugar-plums of every hue, and crownedwith candles. Fraulein Vogelstein followed, embracing a bloomingrose-tree, above which her grey curls waved and her friendly facebeamed joyfully as she cried:
 
　　'Dear Herr Blak, we bring you greetings and a little gift or two inhonour of this ever-to-be-remembered day. Best wishes! and may thenew year bloom for you as beautifully as we your heart-warm friendsdesire.'
 
　　'Yes, yes, in truth we do, dear Herr,' added Frau Tetzel. 'Eat ofthis with-joy-made Kuchen, and drink to the health of the far-awaybeloved ones in the good wine.'
 
　　Amused, yet touched by the kindness of the good souls, Nat thankedthem both, and made them stay to enjoy the humble feast with him.
 
　　This they gladly did, being motherly women full of pity for the dearyouth, whose straits they knew, and having substantial help to offer,as well as kind words and creature comforts.
 
　　Frau Tetzel, with some hesitation, mentioned a friend of hers who,forced by illness to leave his place in the orchestra of asecond-rate theatre, would gladly offer it to Nat, if he could acceptso humble a position. Blushing and toying with the roses like a shygirl, good old Vogelstein asked if in his leisure moments he couldgive English lessons in the young ladies' school where she taughtpainting, adding that a small but certain salary would be paid him.
 
　　Gratefully Nat accepted both offers, finding it less humiliating tobe helped by women than by friends of his own sex. This work wouldsupport him in a frugal way, and certain musical drudgery promised byhis master assured his own teaching. Delighted with the success oftheir little plot, these friendly neighbours left him with cheerywords, warm hand-grasps, and faces beaming with feminine satisfactionat the hearty kiss Nat put on each faded cheek, as the only return hecould make for all their helpful kindness.
 
　　It was strange how much brighter the world looked after that; forhope was a better cordial than the wine, and good resolutions bloomedas freshly as the little rose-tree that filled the room withfragrance, as Nat woke the echoes with the dear old airs, finding nowas always his best comforter in music, to whom henceforth he swore tobe a more loyal subject.
Chapter 14 Plays at Plumfield
 As it is as impossible for the humble historian of the March familyto write a story without theatricals in it as for our dear Miss Yongeto get on with less than twelve or fourteen children in herinteresting tales, we will accept the fact, and at once cheerourselves after the last afflicting events, by proceeding to theChristmas plays at Plumfield; for they influence the fate of severalof our characters, and cannot well be skipped.
 
　　When the college was built Mr Laurie added a charming little theatrewhich not only served for plays, but declamations, lectures, andconcerts. The drop-curtain displayed Apollo with the Muses groupedabout him; and as a compliment to the donor of the hall the artisthad given the god a decided resemblance to our friend, which wasconsidered a superb joke by everyone else. Home talent furnishedstars, stock company, orchestra, and scene painter; and astonishingperformances were given on this pretty little stage.
 
　　Mrs Jo had been trying for some time to produce a play which shouldbe an improvement upon the adaptations from the French then in vogue,curious mixtures of fine toilettes, false sentiment, and feeble wit,with no touch of nature to redeem them. It was easy to plan playsfull of noble speeches and thrilling situations, but very hard towrite them; so she contented herself with a few scenes of humble lifein which the comic and pathetic were mingled; and as she fitted hercharacters to her actors, she hoped the little venture would provethat truth and simplicity had not entirely lost their power to charm.
 
　　Mr Laurie helped her, and they called themselves Beaumont andFletcher, enjoying their joint labour very much; for Beaumont'sknowledge of dramatic art was of great use in curbing Fletcher'stoo-aspiring pen, and they flattered themselves that they hadproduced a neat and effective bit of work as an experiment.
 
　　All was ready now; and Christmas Day was much enlivened by lastrehearsals, the panics of timid actors, the scramble for forgottenproperties, and the decoration of the theatre. Evergreen and hollyfrom the woods, blooming plants from the hothouse on Parnassus, andflags of all nations made it very gay that night in honour of theguests who were coming, chief among them, Miss Cameron, who kept herpromise faithfully. The orchestra tuned their instruments withunusual care, the scene-shifters set their stage with lavishelegance, the prompter heroically took his seat in the stifling nookprovided for him, and the actors dressed with trembling hands thatdropped the pins, and perspiring brows whereon the powder wouldn'tstick. Beaumont and Fletcher were everywhere, feeling that theirliterary reputation was at stake; for sundry friendly critics wereinvited, and reporters, like mosquitoes, cannot be excluded from anyearthly scene, be it a great man's death-bed or a dime museum.
 
　　'Has she come?' was the question asked by every tongue behind thecurtain; and when Tom, who played an old man, endangered hisrespectable legs among the footlights to peep, announced that he sawMiss Cameron's handsome head in the place of honour, a thrillpervaded the entire company, and Josie declared with an excited gaspthat she was going to have stage fright for the first time in herlife.
 
　　'I'll shake you if you do,' said Mrs Jo, who was in such a wild stateof dishevelment with her varied labours that she might have gone onas Madge Wildlife, without an additional rag or crazy elf-lock.
 
　　'You'll have time to get your wits together while we do our piece.
 
　　We are old stagers and calm as clocks,' answered Demi, with a nodtowards Alice, ready in her pretty dress and all her properties athand.
 
　　But both clocks were going rather faster than usual, as heightenedcolour, brilliant eyes, and a certain flutter under the laces andvelvet coat betrayed. They were to open the entertainment with a gaylittle piece which they had played before and did remarkably well.
 
　　Alice was a tall girl, with dark hair and eyes, and a face whichintelligence, health, and a happy heart made beautiful. She waslooking her best now, for the brocades, plumes, and powder of theMarquise became her stately figure; and Demi in his court suit, withsword, three-cornered hat, and white wig, made as gallant a Baron asone would wish to see. Josie was the maid, and looked her part to thelife, being as pretty, pert, and inquisitive as any French soubrette.
 
　　These three were all the characters; and the success of the piecedepended on the spirit and skill with which the quickly changingmoods of the quarrelsome lovers were given, their witty speeches madeto tell, and by-play suited to the courtly period in which the scenewas laid.
 
　　Few would have recognized sober John and studious Alice in thedashing gentleman and coquettish lady, who kept the audience laughingat their caprices; while they enjoyed the brilliant costumes, andadmired the ease and grace of the young actors. Josie was aprominent figure in the plot, as she listened at keyholes, peepedinto notes, and popped in and out at all the most inopportunemoments, with her nose in the air, her hands in her apron-pockets,and curiosity pervading her little figure from the topmost bow of herjaunty cap to the red heels of her slippers. All went smoothly; andthe capricious Marquise, after tormenting the devoted Baron to herheart's content, owned herself conquered in the war of wits, and wasjust offering the hand he had fairly won, when a crash startled them,and a heavily decorated side-scene swayed forward, ready to fall uponAlice. Demi saw it and sprung before her to catch and hold it up,standing like a modern Samson with the wall of a house on his back.
 
　　The danger was over in a moment, and he was about to utter his lastspeech, when the excited young scene-shifter, who had flown up aladder to repair the damage, leaned over to whisper 'All right', andrelease Demi from his spread-eagle attitude: as he did so, a hammerslipped out of his pocket, to fall upon the upturned face below,inflicting a smart blow and literally knocking the Baron's part outof his head.
 
　　'A quick curtain,' robbed the audience of a pretty little scene notdown on the bill; for the Marquise flew to staunch the blood with acry of alarm: 'Oh! John, you are hurt! Lean on me'--which John gladlydid for a moment, being a trifle dazed yet quite able to enjoy thetender touch of the hands busied about him and the anxiety of theface so near his own; for both told him something which he would haveconsidered cheaply won by a rain of hammers and the fall of the wholecollege on his head.
 
　　Nan was on the spot in a moment with the case that never left herpocket; and the wound was neatly plastered up by the time Mrs Joarrived, demanding tragically:
 
　　'Is he too much hurt to go on again? If he is, my play is lost!'
 
　　'I'm all the fitter for it, Aunty; for here's a real instead of apainted wound. I'll be ready; don't worry about me.' And catching uphis wig, Demi was off, with only a very eloquent look of thanks tothe Marquise, who had spoilt her gloves for his sake, but did notseem to mind it at all, though they reached above her elbows, andwere most expensive.
 
　　'How are your nerves, Fletcher?' asked Mr Laurie as they stoodtogether during the breathless minute before the last bell rings.
 
　　'About as calm as yours, Beaumont,' answered Mrs Jo, gesticulatingwildly to Mrs Meg to set her cap straight.
 
　　'Bear up, partner! I'll stand by you whatever comes!'
 
　　'I feel that it ought to go; for, though it's a mere trifle, a gooddeal of honest work and truth have gone into it. Doesn't Meg look thepicture of a dear old country woman?'
 
　　She certainly did, as she sat in the farmhouse kitchen by a cheeryfire, rocking a cradle and darning stockings, as if she had donenothing else all her life. Grey hair, skilfully drawn lines on theforehead, and a plain gown, with cap, little shawl, and check apron,changed her into a comfortable, motherly creature who found favourthe moment the curtain went up and discovered her rocking, darning,and crooning an old song. In a short soliloquy about Sam, her boy,who wanted to enlist; Dolly, her discontented little daughter, wholonged for city ease and pleasures; and poor 'Elizy', who had marriedbadly, and came home to die, bequeathing her baby to her mother, lestits bad father should claim it, the little story was very simplyopened, and made effective by the real boiling of the kettle on thecrane, the ticking of a tall clock, and the appearance of a pair ofblue worsted shoes which waved fitfully in the air to the soft babbleof a baby's voice. Those shapeless little shoes won the firstapplause; and Mr Laurie, forgetting elegance in satisfaction,whispered to his coadjutor:
 
　　'I thought the baby would fetch them!'
 
　　'If the dear thing won't squall in the wrong place, we are saved. Butit is risky. Be ready to catch it if all Meg's cuddlings prove invain,' answered Mrs Jo, adding, with a clutch at Mr Laurie's arm as ahaggard face appeared at the window:
 
　　'Here's Demi! I hope no one will recognize him when he comes on asthe son. I'll never forgive you for not doing the villain yourself.'
 
　　'Can't run the thing and act too. He's capitally made up, and likes abit of melodrama.'
 
　　'This scene ought to have come later; but I wanted to show that themother was the heroine as soon as possible. I'm tired of love-sickgirls and runaway wives. We'll prove that there's romance in oldwomen also. Now he's coming!'
 
　　And in slouched a degraded-looking man, shabby, unshaven, andevil-eyed, trying to assume a masterful air as he dismayed thetranquil old woman by demanding his child. A powerful scene followed;and Mrs Meg surprised even those who knew her best by the homelydignity with which she at first met the man she dreaded; then, as hebrutally pressed his claim, she pleaded with trembling voice andhands to keep the little creature she had promised the dying motherto protect; and when he turned to take it by force, quite a thrillwent through the house as the old woman sprung to snatch it from thecradle, and holding it close, defied him in God's name to tear itfrom that sacred refuge. It was really well done; and the round ofapplause that greeted the fine tableau of the indignant old woman,the rosy, blinking baby clinging to her neck, and the daunted man whodared not execute his evil purpose with such a defender for helplessinnocence, told the excited authors that their first scene was a hit.
 
　　The second was quieter, and introduced Josie as a bonny country lasssetting the supper-table in a bad humour. The pettish way in whichshe slapped down the plates, hustled the cups, and cut the big brownloaf, as she related her girlish trials and ambitions, was capital.
 
　　Mrs Jo kept her eye on Miss Cameron, and saw her nod approval severaltimes at some natural tone or gesture, some good bit of by-play or aquick change of expression in the young face, which was as variableas an April day. Her struggle with the toasting-fork made muchmerriment; so did her contempt for the brown sugar, and the relishwith which she sweetened her irksome duties by eating it; and whenshe sat, like Cinderella, on the hearth, tearfully watching theflames dance on the homely room, a girlish voice was heard to exclaimimpulsively:
 
　　'Poor little thing! she ought to have some fun!'
 
　　The old woman enters; and mother and daughter have a pretty scene, inwhich the latter coaxes and threatens, kisses and cries, till shewins the reluctant consent of the former to visit a rich relation inthe city; and from being a little thunder-cloud Dolly becomesbewitchingly gay and good, as soon as her wilful wish is granted. Thepoor old soul has hardly recovered from this trial when the sonenters, in army blue, tells he has enlisted and must go. That is ahard blow; but the patriotic mother bears it well, and not till thethoughtless young folks have hastened away to tell their good newselsewhere does she break down. Then the country kitchen becomespathetic as the old mother sits alone mourning over her children,till the grey head is hidden in the hands as she kneels down by thecradle to weep and pray, with only Baby to comfort her fond andfaithful heart.
 
　　Sniffs were audible all through the latter part of this scene; andwhen the curtain fell, people were so busy wiping their eyes that fora moment they forgot to applaud. That silent moment was moreflattering than noise; and as Mrs Jo wiped the real tears off hersister's face, she said as solemnly as an unconscious dab of rouge onher nose permitted:
 
　　'Meg, you have saved my play! Oh, why aren't you a real actress, andI a real playwright?'
 
　　'Don't gush now, dear, but help me dress Josie; she's in such aquiver of excitement, I can't manage her, and this is her best scene,you know.'
 
　　So it was; for her aunt had written it especially for her, and littleJo was happy in a gorgeous dress, with a train long enough to satisfyher wildest dreams. The rich relation's parlour was in festivalarray, and the country cousin sails in, looking back at her sweepingflounces with such artless rapture that no one had the heart to laughat the pretty jay in borrowed plumes. She has confidences withherself in the mirror, from which it is made evident that she haddiscovered all is not gold that glitters, and has found greatertemptations than those a girlish love of pleasure, luxury, andflattery bring her. She is sought by a rich lover; but her honestheart resists the allurements he offers, and in its innocentperplexity wishes 'mother' was there to comfort and counsel.
 
　　A gay little dance, in which Dora, Nan, Bess, and several of the boystook part, made a good background for the humble figure of the oldwoman in her widow's bonnet, rusty shawl, big umbrella, and basket.
 
　　Her naive astonishment, as she surveys the spectacle, feels thecurtains, and smooths her old gloves during the moment she remainsunseen, was very good; but Josie's unaffected start when she seesher, and the cry: 'Why, there's mother!' was such a hearty little bitof nature, it hardly needed the impatient tripping over her train asshe ran into the arms that seemed now to be her nearest refuge.
 
　　The lover plays his part; and ripples of merriment greeted the oldwoman's searching questions and blunt answers during the interviewwhich shows the girl how shallow his love is, and how near she hadbeen to ruining her life as bitterly as poor 'Elizy' did. She givesher answer frankly, and when they are alone, looks from her ownbedizened self to the shabby dress, work-worn hands, and tender face,crying with a repentant sob and kiss: 'Take me home, mother, and keepme safe. I've had enough of this!'
 
　　'That will do you good, Maria; don't forget it,' said one lady to herdaughter as the curtain went down; and the girl answered: 'Well, I'msure I don't see why it's touching; but it is,' as she spread herlace handkerchief to dry.
 
　　Tom and Nan came out strong in the next scene; for it was a ward inan army hospital, and surgeon and nurse went from bed to bed, feelingpulses, administering doses, and hearing complaints with an energyand gravity which convulsed the audience. The tragic element, neverfar from the comic at such times and places, came in when, while theybandaged an arm, the doctor told the nurse about an old woman who wassearching through the hospital for her son, after days and nights onbattlefields, through ambulances, and among scenes which would havekilled most women.
 
　　'She will be here directly, and I dread her coming, for I'm afraidthe poor lad who has just gone is her boy. I'd rather face a cannonthan these brave women, with their hope and courage and greatsorrow,' says the surgeon.
 
　　'Ah, these poor mothers break my heart!' adds the nurse, wiping hereyes on her big apron; and with the words Mrs Meg came in.
 
　　There was the same dress, the basket and umbrella, the rustic speech,the simple manners; but all were made pathetic by the terribleexperience which had changed the tranquil old woman to that haggardfigure with wild eyes, dusty feet, trembling hands, and an expressionof mingled anguish, resolution, and despair which gave the homelyfigure a tragic dignity and power that touched all hearts. A fewbroken words told the story of her vain search, and then the sadquest began again. People held their breath as, led by the nurse, shewent from bed to bed, showing in her face the alternations of hope,dread, and bitter disappointment as each was passed. On a narrow cotwas a long figure covered with a sheet, and here she paused to layone hand on her heart and one on her eyes, as if to gather courage tolook at the nameless dead. Then she drew down the sheet, gave a longshivering sigh of relief, saying softly:
 
　　'Not my son, thank God! but some mother's boy.' And stooping down,she kissed the cold forehead tenderly.
 
　　Somebody sobbed there, and Miss Cameron shook two tears out of hereyes, anxious to lose no look or gesture as the poor soul, nearlyspent with the long strain, struggled on down the long line. But hersearch was happily ended for, as if her voice had roused him from hisfeverish sleep, a gaunt, wild-eyed man sat up in his bed, andstretching his arms to her, cried in a voice that echoed through theroom:
 
　　'Mother, mother! I knew you'd come to me!'
 
　　She did go to him, with a cry of love and joy that thrilled everylistener, as she gathered him in her arms with the tears and prayersand blessing such as only a fond and faithful old mother could give.
 
　　The last scene was a cheerful contrast to this; for the countrykitchen was bright with Christmas cheer, the wounded hero, with blackpatch and crutches well displayed, sat by the fire in the old chairwhose familiar creak was soothing to his ear; pretty Dolly wasstirring about, gaily trimming dresser, settle, high chimney-piece,and old-fashioned cradle with mistletoe and holly; while the motherrested beside her son, with that blessed baby on her knee. Refreshedby a nap and nourishment, this young actor now covered himself withglory by his ecstatic prancings, incoherent remarks to the audience,and vain attempts to get to the footlights, as he blinked approvinglyat these brilliant toys. It was good to see Mrs Meg pat him on theback, cuddle the fat legs out of sight, and appease his vain longingswith a lump of sugar, till Baby embraced her with a grateful ardourthat brought him a round of applause all for his little self.
 
　　A sound of singing outside disturbs the happy family, and, after acarol in the snowy moonlight, a flock of neighbours troop in withChristmas gifts and greetings. Much by-play made this a livelypicture; for Sam's sweetheart hovered round him with a tenderness theMarquise did not show the Baron; and Dolly had a pretty bit under themistletoe with her rustic adorer, who looked so like Ham Peggotty inhis cowhide boots, rough jacket, and dark beard and wig, that no onewould have recognized Ted but for the long legs, which no extent ofleather could disguise. It ended with a homely feast, brought by theguests; and as they sat round the table covered with doughnuts andcheese, pumpkin-pie, and other delicacies, Sam rises on his crutchesto propose the first toast, and holding up his mug of cider, says,with a salute, and a choke in his voice: 'Mother, God bless her!' Alldrink it standing, Dolly with her arm round the old woman's neck, asshe hides her happy tears on her daughter's breast; while theirrepressible baby beat rapturously on the table with a spoon, andcrowed audibly as the curtain went down.
 
　　They had it up again in a jiffy to get a last look at the group aboutthat central figure, which was showered with bouquets, to the greatdelight of the infant Roscius; till a fat rosebud hit him on thenose, and produced the much-dreaded squall, which, fortunately, onlyadded to the fun at that moment.
 
　　'Well, that will do for a beginning,' said Beaumont, with a sigh ofrelief, as the curtain descended for the last time, and the actorsscattered to dress for the closing piece.
 
　　'As an experiment, it is a success. Now we can venture to begin ourgreat American drama,' answered Mrs Jo, full of satisfaction andgrand ideas for the famous play--which, we may add, she did not writethat year, owing to various dramatic events in her own family.
 
　　The Owlsdark Marbles closed the entertainment, and, being somethingnew, proved amusing to this very indulgent audience. The gods andgoddesses on Parnassus were displayed in full conclave; and, thanksto Mrs Amy's skill in draping and posing, the white wigs andcotton-flannel robes were classically correct and graceful, thoughsundry modern additions somewhat marred the effect, while addingpoint to the showman's learned remarks. Mr Laurie was ProfessorOwlsdark in cap and gown; and, after a high-flown introduction, heproceeded to exhibit and explain his marbles. The first figure was astately Minerva; but a second glance produced a laugh, for the words'Women's Rights' adorned her shield, a scroll bearing the motto 'Voteearly and often' hung from the beak of the owl perched on her lance,and a tiny pestle and mortar ornamented her helmet. Attention wasdrawn to the firm mouth, the piercing eye, the awe-inspiring brow, ofthe strong-minded woman of antiquity, and some scathing remarks madeupon the degeneracy of her modern sisters who failed to do theirduty. Mercury came next, and was very fine in his airy attitude,though the winged legs quivered as if it was difficult to keep thelively god in his place. His restless nature was dilated upon, hismischievous freaks alluded to, and a very bad character given to theimmortal messenger-boy; which delighted his friends and caused themarble nose of the victim to curl visibly with scorn when derisiveapplause greeted a particularly hard hit. A charming little Hebestood next, pouring nectar from a silver teapot into a blue chinatea-cup. She also pointed a moral; for the Professor explained thatthe nectar of old was the beverage which cheers but does notinebriate, and regretted that the excessive devotion of Americanwomen to this classic brew proved so harmful, owing to the greatdevelopment of brain their culture produced. A touch at modernservants, in contrast to this accomplished table-girl, made thestatue's cheeks glow under the chalk, and brought her a hearty roundas the audience recognized Dolly and the smart soubrette.
 
　　Jove in all his majesty followed, as he and his wife occupied thecentral pedestals in the half-circle of immortals. A splendidJupiter, with hair well set up off the fine brow, ambrosial beard,silver thunderbolts in one hand, and a well-worn ferule in the other.
 
　　A large stuffed eagle from the museum stood at his feet; and thebenign expression of his august countenance showed that he was in agood humour--as well he might be, for he was paid some handsomecompliments upon his wise rule, the peaceful state of his kingdom,and the brood of all-accomplished Pallases that yearly issued fromhis mighty brain. Cheers greeted this and other pleasant words, andcaused the thunderer to bow his thanks; for 'Jove nods', as everyoneknows, and flattery wins the heart of gods and men.
 
　　Mrs Juno, with her peacocks, darning-needle, pen, and cooking-spoon,did not get off so easily; for the Professor was down on her with allmanner of mirth-provoking accusations, criticisms, and insults even.
 
　　He alluded to her domestic infelicity, her meddlesome disposition,sharp tongue, bad temper, and jealousy, closing, however, with atribute to her skill in caring for the wounds and settling thequarrels of belligerent heroes, as well as her love for youths inOlympus and on earth. Gales of laughter greeted these hits, varied byhisses from some indignant boys, who would not bear, even in joke,any disrespect to dear Mother Bhaer, who, however, enjoyed it allimmensely, as the twinkle in her eye and the irrepressible pucker ofher lips betrayed.
 
　　A jolly Bacchus astride of his cask took Vulcan's place, and appearedto be very comfortable with a beer-mug in one hand, a champagnebottle in the other, and a garland of grapes on his curly head. Hewas the text of a short temperance lecture, aimed directly at a rowof smart young gentlemen who lined the walls of the auditorium.
 
　　George Cole was seen to dodge behind a pillar at one point, Dollynudged his neighbour at another, and there was laughter all along theline as the Professor glared at them through his big glasses, anddragged their bacchanalian orgies to the light and held them up toscorn.
 
　　Seeing the execution he had done, the learned man turned to thelovely Diana, who stood as white and still as the plaster stag besideher, with sandals, bow, and crescent; quite perfect, and altogetherthe best piece of statuary in the show. She was very tenderly treatedby the paternal critic who, merely alluding to her confirmedspinsterhood, fondness for athletic sports, and oracular powers, gavea graceful little exposition of true art and passed on to the lastfigure.
 
　　This was Apollo in full fig, his curls skilfully arranged to hide awell-whitened patch over the eye, his handsome legs correctly poised,and his gifted fingers about to draw divine music from the silveredgridiron which was his lyre. His divine attributes were described, aswell as his little follies and failings, among which were hisweakness for photography and flute-playing, his attempts to run anewspaper, and his fondness for the society of the Muses; whichlatter slap produced giggles and blushes among the girl-graduates,and much mirth among the stricken youths; for misery loves company,and after this they began to rally.
 
　　Then, with a ridiculous conclusion, the Professor bowed his thanks;and after several recalls the curtain fell, but not quickly enough toconceal Mercury, wildly waving his liberated legs, Hebe dropping herteapot, Bacchus taking a lovely roll on his barrel, and Mrs Junorapping the impertinent Owlsdark on the head with Jove's ruler.
 
　　While the audience filed out to supper in the hall, the stage was ascene of dire confusion as gods and goddesses, farmers and barons,maids and carpenters, congratulated one another on the success oftheir labours. Assuming various costumes, actors and actresses soonjoined their guests, to sip bounteous draughts of praise with theircoffee, and cool their modest blushes with ice-cream. Mrs Meg was aproud and happy woman when Miss Cameron came to her as she sat byJosie, with Demi serving both, and said, so cordially that it wasimpossible to doubt the sincerity of her welcome words:
 
　　'Mrs Brooke, I no longer wonder where your children get their talent.
 
　　I make my compliments to the Baron and next summer you must let mehave little "Dolly" as a pupil when we are at the beach.'
 
　　One can easily imagine how this offer was received, as well as thefriendly commendation bestowed by the same kind critic on the work ofBeaumont and Fletcher, who hastened to explain that this trifle wasonly an attempt to make nature and art go hand in hand, with littlehelp from fine writing or imposing scenery. Everybody was in thehappiest mood, especially 'little Dolly', who danced like awill-o'-the-wisp with light-footed Mercury and Apollo as hepromenaded with the Marquise on his arm, who seemed to have left hercoquetry in the green room with her rouge.
 
　　When all was over, Mrs Juno said to Jove, to whose arm she clung asthey trudged home along the snowy paths: 'Fritz dear, Christmas is agood time for new resolutions, and I've made one never to beimpatient or fretful with my beloved husband again. I know I am,though you won't own it; but Laurie's fun had some truth in it, and Ifelt hit in a tender spot. Henceforth I am a model wife, else I don'tdeserve the dearest, best man ever born'; and being in a dramaticmood, Mrs Juno tenderly embraced her excellent Jove in the moonlight,to the great amusement of sundry lingerers behind them.
 
　　So all three plays might be considered successes, and that merryChristmas night a memorable one in the March family; for Demi got anunspoken question answered, Josie's fondest wish was granted, and,thanks to Professor Owlsdark's jest, Mrs Jo made Professor Bhaer'sbusy life quite a bed of roses by the keeping of her resolution. Afew days later she had her reward for this burst of virtue in Dan'sletter, which set her fears at rest and made her very happy, thoughshe was unable to tell him so, because he sent her no address.
Chapter 15 Waiting
 'My wife, I have bad news for thee,' said Professor Bhaer, coming inone day early in January.
 
　　'Please tell it at once. I can't bear to wait, Fritz,' cried Mrs Jo,dropping her work and standing up as if to take the shot bravely.
 
　　'But we must wait and hope, heart's-dearest. Come and let us bear ittogether. Emil's ship is lost, and as yet no news of him.'
 
　　It was well Mr Bhaer had taken his wife into his strong arms, for shelooked ready to drop, but bore up after a moment, and sitting by hergood man, heard all that there was to tell. Tidings had been sent tothe shipowners at Hamburg by some of the survivors, and telegraphedat once by Franz to his uncle. As one boat-load was safe, there washope that others might also escape, though the gale had sent two tothe bottom. A swift-sailing steamer had brought these scanty news,and happier ones might come at any hour; but kind Franz had not addedthat the sailors reported the captain's boat as undoubtedly wreckedby the falling mast, since the smoke hid its escape, and the galesoon drove all far asunder. But this sad rumour reached Plumfield intime; and deep was the mourning for the happyhearted Commodore, neverto come singing home again. Mrs Jo refused to believe it, stoutlyinsisting that Emil would outlive any storm and yet turn up safe andgay. It was well she clung to this hopeful view, for poor Mr Bhaerwas much afflicted by the loss of his boy, because his sister's sonshad been his so long he scarcely knew a different love for his veryown. Now was a chance for Mrs Juno to keep her word; and she did,speaking cheerily of Emil, even when hope waxed faint and her heartwas heavy. If anything could comfort the Bhaers for the loss of oneboy, it would have been the affection and sorrow shown by all therest. Franz kept the cable busy with his varying messages, Nat sentloving letters from Leipzig, and Tom harassed the shipping agents fornews. Even busy Jack wrote them with unusual warmth; Dolly and Georgecame often, bearing the loveliest flowers and the daintiest bon-bonsto cheer Mrs Bhaer and sweeten Josie's grief; while good-hearted Nedtravelled all the way from Chicago to press their hands and say, witha tear in his eye: 'I was so anxious to hear all about the dear oldboy, I couldn't keep away.'
 
　　'That's right comfortable, and shows me that if I didn't teach myboys anything else, I did give them the brotherly love that will makethem stand by one another all their lives,' said Mrs Jo, when he hadgone.
 
　　Rob answered reams of sympathizing letters, which showed how manyfriends they had; and the kindly praises of the lost man would havemade Emil a hero and a saint, had they all been true. The eldersbore it quietly, having learned submission in life's hard school; butthe younger people rebelled; some hoped against hope and kept up,others despaired at once, and little Josie, Emil's pet cousin andplaymate, was so broken-hearted nothing could comfort her. Nan dosedin vain, Daisy's cheerful words went by like the wind, and Bess'sdevices to amuse her all failed utterly. To cry in mother's arms andtalk about the wreck, which haunted her even in her sleep, was allshe cared to do; and Mrs Meg was getting anxious when Miss Cameronsent Josie a kind note bidding her learn bravely her first lesson inreal tragedy, and be like the self-sacrificing heroines she loved toact. That did the little girl good, and she made an effort in whichTeddy and Octoo helped her much; for the boy was deeply impressed bythis sudden eclipse of the firefly whose light and life all missedwhen they were gone, and lured her out every day for long drivesbehind the black mare, who shook her silvery bells till they madesuch merry music Josie could not help listening to it, and whiskedher over the snowy roads at a pace which set the blood dancing in herveins and sent her home strengthened and comforted by sunshine, freshair, and congenial society--three aids young sufferers seldom canresist.
 
　　As Emil was helping nurse Captain Hardy, safe and well, aboard theship, all this sorrow would seem wasted; but it was not, for it drewmany hearts more closely together by a common grief, taught somepatience, some sympathy, some regret for faults that lie heavy on theconscience when the one sinned against is gone, and all of them thesolemn lesson to be ready when the summons comes. A hush lay overPlumfield for weeks, and the studious faces on the hill reflected thesadness of those in the valley. Sacred music sounded from Parnassusto comfort all who heard; the brown cottage was beseiged with giftsfor the little mourner, and Emil's flag hung at half-mast on the roofwhere he last sat with Mrs Jo.
 
　　So the weeks went heavily by till suddenly, like a thunderbolt out ofa clear sky, came the news, 'All safe, letters on the way.' Then upwent the flag, out rang the college bells, bang went Teddy'slong-unused cannon, and a chorus of happy voices cried 'Thank God',as people went about, laughing, crying, and embracing one another ina rapture of delight. By and by the longed-for letters came, and allthe story of the wreck was told; briefly by Emil, eloquently by MrsHardy, gratefully by the captain, while Mary added a few tender wordsthat went straight to their hearts and seemed the sweetest of all.
 
　　Never were letters so read, passed round, admired, and cried over asthese; for Mrs Jo carried them in her pocket when Mr Bhaer did nothave them in his, and both took a look at them when they said theirprayers at night. Now the Professor was heard humming like a big beeagain as he went to his classes, and the lines smoothed out of MotherBhaer's forehead, while she wrote this real story to anxious friendsand let her romances wait. Now messages of congratulation flowed in,and beaming faces showed everywhere. Rob amazed his parents byproducing a poem which was remarkably good for one of his years, andDemi set it to music that it might be sung when the sailor boyreturned. Teddy stood on his head literally, and tore about theneighbourhood on Octoo, like a second Paul Revere--only his tidingswere good. But best of all, little Josie lifted up her head as thesnowdrops did, and began to bloom again, growing tall and quiet, withthe shadow of past sorrow to tone down her former vivacity and showthat she had learned a lesson in trying to act well her part on thereal stage, where all have to take their share in the great drama oflife.
 
　　Now another sort of waiting began; for the travellers were on theirway to Hamburg, and would stay there awhile before coming home, asUncle Hermann owned the Brenda, and the captain must report to him.
 
　　Emil must remain to Franz's wedding, deferred till now because of theseason of mourning, so happily ended. These plans were doubly welcomeand pleasant after the troublous times which went before, and nospring ever seemed so beautiful as this one; for, as Teddy put it:
 
　　'Now is the winter of our discontentMade glorious by these sons of Bhaer!'
 
　　Franz and Emil being regarded in the light of elder brothers by thereal 'sons of Bhaer'.
 
　　There was great scrubbing and dusting among the matrons as they settheir houses in order not only for Class Day, but to receive thebride and groom, who were to come to them for the honeymoon trip.
 
　　Great plans were made, gifts prepared, and much joy felt at theprospect of seeing Franz again; though Emil, who was to accompanythem, would be the greater hero. Little did the dear souls dream whata surprise was in store for them, as they innocently laid their plansand wished all the boys could be there to welcome home their eldestand their Casablanca.
 
　　While they wait and work so happily, let us see how our other absentboys are faring as they too wait and work and hope for better days.
 
　　Nat was toiling steadily along the path he had wisely chosen, thoughit was by no means strewn with flowers--quite thorny was it, in fact,and hard to travel, after the taste of ease and pleasure he had gotwhen nibbling at forbidden fruit. But his crop of wild oats was alight one, and he resolutely reaped what he had sowed, finding somegood wheat among the tares. He taught by day; he fiddled night afternight in the dingy little theatre, and he studied so diligently thathis master was well pleased, and kept him in mind as one to whompreferment was due, if any chance occurred. Gay friends forgot him;but the old ones stood fast, and cheered him up when Heimweh andweariness made him sad. As spring came on things mended--expensesgrew less, work pleasanter, and life more bearable than when wintrystorms beat on his thinly clad back, and frost pinched the toes thatpatiently trudged in old boots. No debts burdened him; the year ofabsence was nearly over; and if he chose to stay, Herr Bergmann hadhopes for him that would bring independence for a time at least. Sohe walked under the lindens with a lighter heart, and in the Mayevenings went about the city with a band of strolling students,making music before houses where he used to sit as guest. No onerecognized him in the darkness, though old friends often listened tothe band; and once Minna threw him money, which he humbly received aspart of his penance, being morbid on the subject of his sins.
 
　　His reward came sooner than he expected, and was greater than hedeserved, he thought, though his heart leaped with joy when hismaster one day informed him that he was chosen, with several other ofhis most promising pupils, to join the musical society which was totake part in the great festival in London the next July. Here wasnot only honour for the violinist but happiness for the man, as itbrought him nearer home, and would open a chance of further promotionand profit in his chosen profession.
 
　　'Make thyself useful to Bachmeister there in London with thy English,and if all goes well with him, he will be glad to take thee toAmerica, whither he goes in the early autumn for winter concerts.
 
　　Thou hast done well these last months, and I have hopes of thee.'
 
　　As the great Bergmann seldom praised his pupils, these words filledNat's soul with pride and joy, and he worked yet more diligently thanbefore to fulfil his master's prophecy. He thought the trip toEngland happiness enough, but found room for more when, early inJune, Franz and Emil paid him a flying visit, bringing all sorts ofgood news, kind wishes, and comfortable gifts for the lonely fellow,who could have fallen on their necks and cried like a girl at seeinghis old mates again. How glad he was to be found in his little roombusy at his proper work, not living like an idle gentleman onborrowed money! How proud he was to tell his plans, assure them thathe had no debts, and receive their praises for his improvement inmusic, their respect for his economy and steadfastness in well-doing!
 
　　How relieved when, having honestly confessed his shortcomings, theyonly laughed, and owned that they also had known like experiences,and were the wiser for them. He was to go to the wedding late inJune, and join his comrades in London. As best man, he could notrefuse the new suit Franz insisted on ordering for him; and a chequefrom home about that time made him feel like a millionaire--and ahappy one; for this was accompanied by such kind letters full ofdelight in his success, he felt that he had earned it, and waited forhis joyful holiday with the impatience of a boy.
 
　　Dan meantime was also counting the weeks till August, when he wouldbe free. But neither marriage-bells nor festival music awaited him;no friends would greet him as he left the prison; no hopeful prospectlay before him; no happy home-going was to be his. Yet his successwas far greater than Nat's, though only God and one good man saw it.
 
　　It was a hard-won battle; but he would never have to fight soterrible a one again; for though enemies would still assail fromwithin and from without, he had found the little guide-book thatChristian carried in his bosom, and Love, Penitence, and Prayer, thethree sweet sisters, had given him the armour which would keep himsafe. He had not learned to wear it yet, and chafed against it,though he felt its value, thanks to the faithful friend who had stoodby him all that bitter year.
 
　　Soon he was to be free again, worn and scarred in the fray, but outamong men in the blessed sun and air. When he thought of it Dan feltas if he could not wait, but must burst that narrow cell and flyaway, as the caddis-worms he used to watch by the brookside shedtheir stony coffins, to climb the ferns and soar into the sky. Nightafter night he lulled himself to sleep with planning how, when he hadseen Mary Mason according to his promise, he would steer straight forhis old friends, the Indians, and in the wilderness hide his disgraceand heal his wounds. Working to save the many would atone for the sinof killing one, he thought; and the old free life would keep him safefrom the temptations that beset him in cities.
 
　　'By and by, when I'm all right again, and have something to tell thatI'm not ashamed of, I'll go home,' he said, with a quicker beat ofthe impetuous heart that longed to be there so intensely, he found itas hard to curb as one of his unbroken horses on the plains. 'Notyet. I must get over this first. They'd see and smell and feel theprison taint on me, if I went now, and I couldn't look them in theface and hide the truth. I can't lose Ted's love, Mother Bhaer'sconfidence, and the respect of the girls, for they did respect mystrength, anyway; but now they wouldn't touch me.' And poor Danlooked with a shudder at the brown fist he clenched involuntarily ashe remembered what it had done since a certain little white hand hadlaid in it confidingly. 'I'll make 'em proud of me yet; and no oneshall ever know of this awful year. I can wipe it out, and I will, sohelp me God!' And the clenched hand was held up as if to take asolemn oath that this lost year should yet be made good, ifresolution and repentance could work the miracle.
Chapter 16 In the Tennis-court
 Athletic sports were in high favour at Plumfield; and the river wherethe old punt used to wabble about with a cargo of small boys, or echoto the shrill screams of little girls trying to get lilies, now wasalive with boats of all kinds, from the slender wherry to the trimpleasure-craft, gay with cushions, awnings, and fluttering pennons.
 
　　Everyone rowed, and the girls as well as the youths had their races,and developed their muscles in the most scientific manner. The large,level meadow near the old willow was now the college playground, andhere baseball battles raged with fury, varied by football, leaping,and kindred sports fitted to split the fingers, break the ribs, andstrain the backs of the too ambitious participants. The gentlerpastimes of the damsels were at a safe distance from this Champ deMars; croquet mallets clicked under the elms that fringed the field,rackets rose and fell energetically in several tennis-courts, andgates of different heights were handy to practise the graceful boundby which every girl expected to save her life some day when the madbull, which was always coming but never seemed to arrive, should bebellowing at her heels.
 
　　One of these tennis grounds was called 'Jo's Court', and here thelittle lady ruled like a queen; for she was fond of the game, andbeing bent on developing her small self to the highest degree ofperfection, she was to be found at every leisure moment with somevictim hard at it. On a certain pleasant Saturday afternoon she hadbeen playing with Bess and beating her; for, though more graceful,the Princess was less active than her cousin, and cultivated herroses by quieter methods.
 
　　'Oh dear! you are tired, and every blessed boy is at that stupidbaseball match. 'What shall I do?' sighed Josie, pushing back thegreat red hat she wore, and gazing sadly round her for more worlds toconquer.
 
　　'I'll play presently, when I'm a little cooler. But it is dull workfor me, as I never win,' answered Bess, fanning herself with a largeleaf.
 
　　Josie was about to sit down beside her on the rustic seat and wait,when her quick eye saw afar off two manly forms arrayed in whiteflannel; their blue legs seemed bearing them towards the battle goingon in the distance; but they never reached the fray; for with a cryof joy, Jo raced away to meet them, bent on securing this heaven-sentreinforcement. Both paused as she came flying up, and both raisedtheir hats; but oh, the difference there was in the salutes! Thestout youth pulled his off lazily and put it on again at once, as ifglad to get the duty over; the slender being, with the crimson tie,lifted his with a graceful bend, and held it aloft while he accostedthe rosy, breathless maid, thus permitting her to see his raven lockssmoothly parted, with one little curl upon the brow. Dolly pridedhimself upon that bow, and practised it before his glass, but did notbestow it upon all alike, regarding it as a work of art, fit only forthe fairest and most favoured of his female admirers; for he was apretty youth, and fancied himself an Adonis.
 
　　Eager Josie evidently did not appreciate the honour he did her, forwith a nod she begged them both to 'come along and play tennis, notgo and get all hot and dirty with the boys'. These two adjectives wonthe day; for Stuffy was already warmer than he liked to be, and Dollyhad on a new suit which he desired to keep immaculate as long aspossible, conscious that it was very becoming.
 
　　'Charmed to oblige,' answered the polite one, with another bend.
 
　　'You play, I'll rest,' added the fat boy, yearning for repose andgentle converse with the Princess in the cooling shade.
 
　　'Well, you can comfort Bess, for I've beaten her all to bits and sheneeds amusing. I know you've got something nice in your pocket,George; give her some, and 'Dolphus can have her racket. Now then,fly round'; and driving her prey before her, Josie returned intriumph to the court.
 
　　Casting himself ponderously upon the bench, which creaked under hisweight, Stuffy--as we will continue to call him, though no one elsedared to use the old name now--promptly produced the box ofconfectionery, without which he never travelled far, and regaled Besswith candied violets and other dainties, while Dolly worked hard tohold his own against a most accomplished antagonist. He would havebeaten her if an unlucky stumble, which produced an unsightly stainupon the knee of those new shorts, had not distracted his mind andmade him careless. Much elated at her victory, Josie permitted him torest, and offered ironical consolation for the mishap which evidentlyweighed upon his mind.
 
　　'Don't be an old Betty; it can be cleaned. You must have been a catin some former state, you are so troubled about dirt; or a tailor,and lived for clothes.'
 
　　'Come now, don't hit a fellow when he is down,' responded Dolly fromthe grass where he and Stuffy now lay to make room for both girls onthe seat. One handkerchief was spread under him, and his elbow leanedupon another, while his eyes were sadly fixed upon the green andbrown spot which afflicted him. 'I like to be neat; don't think itcivil to cut about in old shoes and grey flannel shirts beforeladies. Our fellows are gentlemen, and dress as such,' he added,rather nettled at the word 'tailor'; for he owed one of those tooattractive persons an uncomfortably big bill.
 
　　'So are ours; but good clothes alone don't make a gentleman here. Werequire a good deal more,' flashed Josie, in arms at once to defendher college. 'You will hear of some of the men in "old boots and greyflannel" when you and your fine gentlemen are twiddling your ties andscenting your hair in obscurity. I like old boots and wear them, andI hate dandies; don't you, Bess?'
 
　　'Not when they are kind to me, and belong to our old set,' answeredBess, with a nod of thanks to Dolly, who was carefully removing aninquisitive caterpillar from one of her little russet shoes.
 
　　'I like a lady who is always polite, and doesn't snap a man's headoff if he has a mind of his own; don't you, George?' asked Dolly,with his best smile for Bess and a Harvard stare of disapprobationfor Josie.
 
　　A tranquil snore was Stuffy's sole reply, and a general laughrestored peace for the moment. But Josie loved to harass the lords ofcreation who asserted themselves too much, and bided her time foranother attack till she had secured more tennis. She got anothergame; for Dolly was a sworn knight of dames, so he obeyed her call,leaving Bess to sketch George as he lay upon his back, his stout legscrossed, and his round red face partially eclipsed by his hat. Josiegot beaten this time and came back rather cross, so she woke thepeaceful sleeper by tickling his nose with a straw till he sneezedhimself into a sitting posture, and looked wrathfully about for 'thatconfounded fly'.
 
　　'Come, sit up and let us have a little elegant conversation; you"howling swells" ought to improve our minds and manners, for we areonly poor "country girls in dowdy gowns and hats",' began thegad-fly, opening the battle with a sly quotation from one of Dolly'sunfortunate speeches about certain studious damsels who cared morefor books than finery.
 
　　'I didn't mean you! Your gowns are all right, and those hats thelatest thing out,' began poor 'Dolphus, convicting himself by theincautious exclamation.
 
　　'Caught you that time; I thought you fellows were all gentlemen,civil as well as nice. But you are always sneering at girls who don'tdress well and that is a very unmanly thing to do; my mother saidso'; and Josie felt that she had dealt a shrewd blow at the elegantyouth who bowed at many shrines if they were well-decorated ones.
 
　　'Got you there, old boy, and she's right. You never hear me talkabout clothes and such twaddle,' said Stuffy, suppressing a yawn, andfeeling for another bon-bon wherewith to refresh himself.
 
　　'You talk about eating, and that is even worse for a man. You willmarry a cook and keep a restaurant some day,' laughed Josie, down onhim at once.
 
　　This fearful prediction kept him silent for several moments; butDolly rallied, and wisely changing the subject, carried war into theenemy's camp.
 
　　'As you wanted us to improve your manners, allow me to say that youngladies in good society don't make personal remarks or deliverlectures. Little girls who are not out do it, and think it witty; butI assure you it's not good form.'
 
　　Josie paused a moment to recover from the shock of being called 'alittle girl', when all the honours of her fourteenth birthday werefresh upon her; and Bess said, in the lofty tone which was infinitelymore crushing than Jo's impertinence:
 
　　'That is true; but we have lived all our lives with superior people,so we have no society talk like your young ladies. We are soaccustomed to sensible conversation, and helping one another bytelling our faults, that we have no gossip to offer you.'
 
　　When the Princess reproved, the boys seldom resented it; so Dollyheld his peace, and Josie burst out, following her cousin's lead,which she thought a happy one:
 
　　'Our boys like to have us talk with them, and take kindly any hintswe give. They don't think they know everything and are quite perfectat eighteen, as I've observed the Harvard men do, especially the veryyoung ones.'
 
　　Josie took immense satisfaction in that return shot; and Dolly showedthat he was hit, by the nettled tone in which he answered, with asupercilious glance at the hot, dusty, and noisy crowd on thebaseball ground: 'The class of fellows you have here need all thepolish and culture you can give them; and I'm glad they get it. Ourmen are largely from the best families all over the country, so wedon't need girls to teach us anything.'
 
　　'It's a pity you don't have more of such "fellows" as ours. Theyvalue and use well what college gives them, and aren't satisfied toslip through, getting all the fun they can and shirking the work. Oh,I've heard you "men" talk, and heard your fathers say they wish theyhadn't wasted time and money just that you might say you'd beenthrough college. As for the girls, you'll be much better off in allways when they do get in, and keep you lazy things up to the mark, aswe do here.'
 
　　'If you have such a poor opinion of us, why do you wear our colour?'
 
　　asked Dolly, painfully conscious that he was not improving theadvantages his Alma Mater offered him, but bound to defend her.
 
　　'I don't; my hat is scarlet, not crimson. Much you know about acolour,' scoffed Josie.
 
　　'I know that a cross cow would soon set you scampering, if youflaunted that red tile under her nose,' retorted Dolly.
 
　　'I'm ready for her. Can your fine young ladies do this? or youeither?' and burning to display her latest accomplishment, Josie ranto the nearest gate, put one hand on the top rail, and vaulted overas lightly as a bird.
 
　　Bess shook her head, and Stuffy languidly applauded; but Dollyscorning to be braved by a girl, took a flying leap and landed on hisfeet beside Josie, saying calmly: 'Can you do that?'
 
　　'Not yet; but I will by and by.'
 
　　As his foe looked a little crestfallen, Dolly relented, and affablyadded sundry feats of a like nature, quite unconscious that he hadfallen into a dreadful snare; for the dull red paint on the gate, notbeing used to such vigorous handling, came off in streaks upon hisshoulders when he turned a backward swing and came up smiling, to berewarded with the aggravating remark:
 
　　'If you want to know what crimson is, look at your back; it's nicelystamped on and won't wash out, I think.'
 
　　'The deuce it won't!' cried Dolly, trying to get an impossible view,and giving it up in great disgust.
 
　　'I guess we'd better be going, Dolf,' said peaceable Stuffy, feelingthat it would be wise to retreat before another skirmish took place,as his side seemed to be getting the worst of it.
 
　　'Don't hurry, I beg; stay and rest; you must need it after thetremendous amount of brain work you've done this week. It is time forour Greek. Come, Bess. Good afternoon, gentlemen.' And, with asweeping courtesy, Josie led the way, with her hat belligerentlycocked up, and her racket borne like a triumphal banner over oneshoulder; for having had the last word, she felt that she couldretire with the honours of war.
 
　　Dolly gave Bess his best bow, with the chill on; and Stuffy subsidedluxuriously, with his legs in the air, murmuring in a dreamy tone:
 
　　'Little Jo is as cross as two sticks today. I'm going in for anothernap: too hot to play anything.'
 
　　'So it is. Wonder if Spitfire was right about these beastly spots?'
 
　　And Dolly sat down to try dry cleansing with one of hishandkerchiefs. 'Asleep?' he asked, after a few moments of thischeerful occupation, fearing that his chum might be too comfortablewhen he was in a fume himself.
 
　　'No. I was thinking that Jo wasn't far wrong about shirking. 'Tis ashame to get so little done, when we ought to be grinding like Mortonand Torry and that lot. I never wanted to go to college; but mygovernor made me. Much good it will do either of us!' answeredStuffy, with a groan; for he hated work, and saw two more long yearsof it before him.
 
　　'Gives a man prestige, you know. No need to dig. I mean to have a gayold time, and be a "howling swell", if I choose. Between you and methough, it would be no end jolly to have the girls along. Study behanged! But if we've got to turn the grindstone, it would be mightynice to have some of the little dears to lend a hand. Wouldn't itnow?'
 
　　'I'd like three this minute--one to fan me, one to kiss me, and oneto give me some iced lemonade!' sighed Stuffy, with a yearning glancetowards the house, whence no succour appeared.
 
　　'How would root-beer do?' asked a voice behind them, which made Dollyspring to his feet and Stuffy roll over like a startled porpoise.
 
　　Sitting on the stile that crossed the wall near by was Mrs Jo, withtwo jugs slung over her shoulder by a strap, several tin mugs in herhand, and an old-fashioned sun-bonnet on her head.
 
　　'I knew the boys would be killing themselves with ice-water; so Istrolled down with some of my good, wholesome beer. They drank likefishes. But Silas was with me; so my cruse still holds out. Havesome?'
 
　　'Yes, thanks, very much. Let us pour it.' And Dolly held the cupwhile Stuffy joyfully filled it; both very grateful, but ratherafraid she had heard what went before the wish she fulfilled.
 
　　She proved that she had by saying, as they stood drinking her health,while she sat between them, looking like a middle-aged vivandiere,with her jugs and mugs:
 
　　'I was glad to hear you say you would like to have girls at yourcollege; but I hope you will learn to speak more respectfully of thembefore they come; for that will be the first lesson they will teachyou.'
 
　　'Really, ma'am, I was only joking,' began Stuffy, gulping down hisbeer in a hurry.
 
　　'So was I. I'm sure I--I'm devoted to 'em,' stuttered Dolly,panic-stricken; for he saw that he was in for a lecture of some sort.
 
　　'Not in the right way. Frivolous girls may like to be called "littledears" and things of that sort; but the girls who love study wish tobe treated like reasonable beings, not dolls to flirt with. Yes, I'mgoing to preach; that's my business; so stand up and take it likemen.'
 
　　Mrs Jo laughed; but she was in earnest; for by various hints andsigns during the past winter she knew that the boys were beginning to'see life' in the way she especially disapproved. Both were far fromhome, had money enough to waste, and were as inexperienced, curious,and credulous as most lads of their age. Not fond of books, thereforewithout the safeguard which keeps many studious fellows out of harm;one self-indulgent, indolent, and so used to luxury that pampering ofthe senses was an easy thing; the other vain, as all comely boys are,full of conceit, and so eager to find favour in the eyes of hiscomrades that he was ready for anything which would secure it. Thesetraits and foibles made both peculiarly liable to the temptationswhich assail pleasure-loving and weak-willed boys. Mrs Jo knew themwell, and had dropped many a warning word since they went to college;but till lately they seemed not to understand some of her friendlyhints; now she was sure they would, and meant to speak out: for longexperience with boys made her both bold and skilful in handling someof the dangers usually left to silence, till it is too late foranything but pity and reproach.
 
　　'I'm going to talk to you like a mother, because yours are far away;and there are things that mothers can manage best, if they do theirduty,' she solemnly began from the depths of the sunbonnet.
 
　　'Great Scott! We're in for it now!' thought Dolly, in secret dismay;while Stuffy got the first blow by trying to sustain himself withanother mug of beer.
 
　　'That won't hurt you; but I must warn you about drinking otherthings, George. Overeating is an old story; and a few more fits ofillness will teach you to be wise. But drinking is a more seriousthing, and leads to worse harm than any that can afflict your bodyalone. I hear you talk about wines as if you knew them and cared morefor them than a boy should; and several times I've heard jokes thatmeant mischief. For heaven's sake, don't begin to play with thisdangerous taste "for fun", as you say, or because it's the fashion,and the other fellows do. Stop at once, and learn that temperance inall things is the only safe rule.'
 
　　'Upon my honour, I only take wine and iron. I need a tonic, mothersays, to repair the waste of brain-tissue while I'm studying,'
 
　　protested Stuffy, putting down the mug as if it burnt his fingers.
 
　　'Good beef and oatmeal will repair your tissues much better than anytonic of that sort. Work and plain fare are what you want; and I wishI had you here for a few months out of harm's way. I'd Banting you,and fit you to run without puffing, and get on without four or fivemeals a day. What an absurd hand that is for a man! You ought to beashamed of it!' And Mrs Jo caught up the plump fist, with deepdimples at each knuckle, which was fumbling distressfully at thebuckle of the belt girt about a waist far too large for a youth ofhis age.
 
　　'I can't help it--we all grow fat; it's in the family,' said Stuffyin self-defence.
 
　　'All the more reason you should live carefully. Do you want to dieearly, or be an invalid all your life?'
 
　　'No, ma'am!'
 
　　Stuffy looked so scared that Mrs Jo could not be hard upon hisbudding sins, for they lay at his overindulgent mother's door line ina great measure; so she softened the tone of her voice, and added,with a little slap on the fat hand, as she used to do when it wassmall enough to pilfer lumps of sugar from her bowl:
 
　　'Then be careful; for a man writes his character in his face; and youdon't want gluttony and intemperance in yours, I know.'
 
　　'I'm sure I don't! Please make out a wholesome bill of fare, and I'llstick to it, if I can. I am getting stout, and I don't like it; andmy liver's torpid, and I have palpitations and headache. Overwork,mother says; but it may be overeating.' And Stuffy gave a sigh ofmingled regret for the good things he renounced, and relief as hefinished loosening his belt as soon as his hand was free.
 
　　'I will; follow it, and in a year you'll be a man and not a meal-bag.
 
　　Now, Dolly'; and Mrs Jo turned to the other culprit, who shook in hisshoes and wished he hadn't come.
 
　　'Are you studying French as industriously as you were last winter?'
 
　　'No ma'am; I don't care for it--that is, I, I'm busy with G-Greekjust now,' answered Dolly, beginning bravely, quite in the dark as towhat that odd question meant till a sudden memory made him stutterand look at his shoes with deep interest.
 
　　'Oh, he doesn't study it; only reads French novels and goes to thetheatre when the opera bouffe is here,' said Stuffy, innocentlyconfirming Mrs Jo's suspicions.
 
　　'So I understood; and that is what I want to speak about. Ted had asudden desire to learn French in that way, from something you said,Dolly; so I went myself, and was quite satisfied that it was no placefor a decent boy. Your men were out in full force; and I was glad tosee that some of the younger ones looked as ashamed as I felt. Theolder fellows enjoyed it, and when we came out were waiting to takethose painted girls to supper. Did you ever go with them?'
 
　　'Once.'
 
　　'Did you like it?'
 
　　'No 'm; I--I came away early,' stammered Dolly, with a face as red ashis splendid tie.
 
　　'I'm glad you have not lost the grace of blushing yet; but you willsoon, if you keep up this sort of study and forget to be ashamed. Thesociety of such women will unfit you for that of good ones, and leadyou into trouble and sin and shame. Oh, why don't the city fathersstop that evil thing, when they know the harm it does? It made myheart ache to see those boys, who ought to be at home and in theirbeds, going off for a night of riot which would help to ruin some ofthem for ever.'
 
　　The youths looked scared at Mrs Jo's energetic protest against one ofthe fashionable pleasures of the day, and waited inconscience-stricken silence--Stuffy glad that he never went to thosegay suppers, and Dolly deeply grateful that he 'came away early'.
 
　　With a hand on either shoulder, and all the terrors smoothed from herbrow, Mrs Jo went on in her most motherly tone, anxious to do forthem what no other woman would, and do it kindly:
 
　　'My dear boys, if I didn't love you, I would not say these things. Iknow they are not pleasant; but my conscience won't let me hold mypeace when a word may keep you from two of the great sins that cursethe world and send so many young men to destruction. You are justbeginning to feel the allurement of them, and soon it will be hard toturn away. Stop now, I beg of you, and not only save yourselves buthelp others by a brave example. Come to me if things worry you; don'tbe afraid or ashamed; I have heard many sadder confessions than anyyou are ever likely to bring me, and been able to comfort many poorfellows, gone wrong for want of a word in time. Do this, and you willbe able to kiss your mothers with clean lips, and by and by have theright to ask innocent girls to love you.'
 
　　'Yes'm, thank you. I suppose you're right; but it's pretty hard workto toe the mark when ladies give you wine and gentlemen take theirdaughters to see Aimee,' said Dolly, foreseeing tribulations aheadthough he knew it was time to 'pull up'.
 
　　'So it is; but all the more honour to those who are brave and wiseenough to resist public opinion, and the easy-going morals of bad orcareless men and women. Think of the persons whom you respect most,and in imitating them you will secure the respect of those who lookup to you. I'd rather my boys should be laughed at andcold-shouldered by a hundred foolish fellows than lose what, oncegone, no power can give them back--innocence and self-respect. Idon't wonder you find it "hard to toe the mark", when books,pictures, ball-rooms, theatres, and streets offer temptations; yetyou can resist, if you try. Last winter Mrs Brooke used to worryabout John's being out so late reporting; but when she spoke to himabout the things he must see and hear on his way to and fro from theoffice at midnight, he said in his sober way, "I know what you mean,mother; but no fellow need to go wrong unless he wants to."'That's like the Deacon!' exclaimed Stuffy, with an approving smileon his fat face.
 
　　'I'm glad you told me that. He's right; and it's because he doesn'twant to go wrong we all respect him so,' added Dolly, looking up nowwith an expression which assured his Mentor that the right string hadbeen touched, and a spirit of emulation roused, more helpful,perhaps, than any words of hers. Seeing this, she was satisfied, andsaid, as she prepared to leave the bar before which her culprits hadbeen tried and found guilty, but recommended to mercy:
 
　　'Then be to others what John is to you--a good example. Forgive mefor troubling you, my dear lads, and remember my little preachment. Ithink it will do you good, though I may never know it. Chance wordsspoken in kindness often help amazingly; and that's what old peopleare here for--else their experience is of little use. Now, come andfind the young folk. I hope I shall never have to shut the gates ofPlumfield upon you, as I have on some of your "gentlemen". I mean tokeep my boys and girls safe if I can, and this a wholesome placewhere the good old-fashioned virtues are lived and taught.'
 
　　Much impressed by that dire threat, Dolly helped her from her perchwith deep respect; and Stuffy relieved her of her empty jugs,solemnly vowing to abstain from all fermented beverages exceptroot-beer, as long as feeble flesh could hold out. Of course theymade light of 'Mother Bhaer's lecture' when they were alone--that wasto be expected of 'men of our class' but in their secret souls theythanked her for giving their boyish consciences a jog, and more thanonce afterward had cause to remember gratefully that half-hour in thetennis court.
Chapter 17 Among the Maids
 Although this story is about Jo's boys, her girls cannot beneglected, because they held a high place in this little republic,and especial care was taken to fit them to play their parts worthilyin the great republic which offered them wider opportunities and moreserious duties. To many the social influence was the better part ofthe training they received; for education is not confined to books,and the finest characters often graduate from no college, but makeexperience their master, and life their book. Others cared only forthe mental culture, and were in danger of over-studying, under thedelusion which pervades New England that learning must be had at allcosts, forgetting that health and real wisdom are better. A thirdclass of ambitious girls hardly knew what they wanted, but werehungry for whatever could fit them to face the world and earn aliving, being driven by necessity, the urgency of some half-conscioustalent, or the restlessness of strong young natures to break awayfrom the narrow life which no longer satisfied.
 
　　At Plumfield all found something to help them; for the growinginstitution had not yet made its rules as fixed as the laws of theMedes and Persians, and believed so heartily in the right of allsexes, colours, creeds, and ranks to education, that there was roomfor everyone who knocked, and a welcome to the shabby youths from upcountry, the eager girls from the West, the awkward freedman or womanfrom the South, or the well-born student whose poverty made thiscollege a possibility when other doors were barred. There still wasprejudice, ridicule, neglect in high places, and prophecies offailure to contend against; but the Faculty was composed of cheerful,hopeful men and women who had seen greater reforms spring fromsmaller roots, and after stormy seasons blossom beautifully, to addprosperity and honour to the nation. So they worked on steadily andbided their time, full of increasing faith in their attempt as yearafter year their numbers grew, their plans succeeded, and the senseof usefulness in this most vital of all professions blessed them withits sweet rewards.
 
　　Among the various customs which had very naturally sprung up was oneespecially useful and interesting to 'the girls', as the young womenliked to be called. It all grew out of the old sewing hour still keptup by the three sisters long after the little work-boxes had expandedinto big baskets full of household mending. They were busy women, yeton Saturdays they tried to meet in one of the three sewing-rooms; foreven classic Parnassus had its nook where Mrs Amy often sat among herservants, teaching them to make and mend, thereby giving them arespect for economy, since the rich lady did not scorn to darn herhose, and sew on buttons. In these household retreats, with books andwork, and their daughters by them, they read and sewed and talked inthe sweet privacy that domestic women love, and can make so helpfulby a wise mixture of cooks and chemistry, table linen and theology,prosaic duties and good poetry.
 
　　Mrs Meg was the first to propose enlarging this little circle; for asshe went her motherly rounds among the young women she found a sadlack of order, skill, and industry in this branch of education.
 
　　Latin, Greek, the higher mathematics, and science of all sortsprospered finely; but the dust gathered on the work-baskets, frayedelbows went unheeded, and some of the blue stockings sadly neededmending. Anxious lest the usual sneer at learned women should applyto 'our girls', she gently lured two or three of the most untidy toher house, and made the hour so pleasant, the lesson so kindly, thatthey took the hint, were grateful for the favour, and asked to comeagain. Others soon begged to make the detested weekly duty lighter byjoining the party, and soon it was a privilege so much desired thatthe old museum was refitted with sewing-machines, tables,rocking-chair, and a cheerful fireplace, so that, rain or shine, theneedles might go on undisturbed.
 
　　Here Mrs Meg was in her glory, and stood wielding her big shears likea queen as she cut out white work, fitted dresses, and directedDaisy, her special aide, about the trimming of hats, and completingthe lace and ribbon trifles which add grace to the simplest costumeand save poor or busy girls so much money and time. Mrs Amycontributed taste, and decided the great question of colours andcomplexions; for few women, even the most learned, are without thatdesire to look well which makes many a plain face comely, as well asmany a pretty one ugly for want of skill and knowledge of the fitnessof things. She also took her turn to provide books for the readings,and as art was her forte she gave them selections from Ruskin,Hamerton, and Mrs Jameson, who is never old. Bess read these aloud asher contribution, and Josie took her turn at the romances, poetry,and plays her uncles recommended. Mrs Jo gave little lectures onhealth, religion, politics, and the various questions in which allshould be interested, with copious extracts from Miss Cobbe's Dutiesof Women, Miss Brackett's Education of American Girls, Mrs Duffy's NoSex in Education, Mrs Woolson's Dress Reform, and many of the otherexcellent books wise women write for their sisters, now that they arewaking up and asking: 'What shall we do?'
 
　　It was curious to see the prejudices melt away as ignorance wasenlightened, indifference change to interest, and intelligent mindsset thinking, while quick wits and lively tongues added spice to thediscussions which inevitably followed. So the feet that wore theneatly mended hose carried wiser heads than before, the pretty gownscovered hearts warmed with higher purposes, and the hands thatdropped the thimbles for pens, lexicons, and celestial globes, werebetter fitted for life's work, whether to rock cradles, tend thesick, or help on the great work of the world.
 
　　One day a brisk discussion arose concerning careers for women. MrsJo had read something on the subject and asked each of the dozengirls sitting about the room, what she intended to do on leavingcollege. The answers were as usual: 'I shall teach, help mother,study medicine, art,' etc.; but nearly all ended with:
 
　　'Till I marry.'
 
　　'But if you don't marry, what then?' asked Mrs Jo, feeling like agirl again as she listened to the answers, and watched thethoughtful, gay, or eager faces.
 
　　'Be old maids, I suppose. Horrid, but inevitable, since there are somany superfluous women,' answered a lively lass, too pretty to fearsingle blessedness unless she chose it.
 
　　'It is well to consider that fact, and fit yourselves to be useful,not superfluous women. That class, by the way, is largely made up ofwidows, I find; so don't consider it a slur on maidenhood.'
 
　　'That's a comfort! Old maids aren't sneered at half as much as theyused to be, since some of them have grown famous and proved thatwoman isn't a half but a whole human being, and can stand alone.'
 
　　'Don't like it all the same. We can't all be like Miss Nightingale,Miss Phelps, and the rest.'
 
　　So what can we do but sit in a corner and look on?' asked a plaingirl with a dissatisfied expression.
 
　　'Cultivate cheerfulness and content, if nothing else. But there areso many little odd jobs waiting to be done that nobody need "sit idleand look on", unless she chooses,' said Mrs Meg, with a smile, layingon the girl's head the new hat she had just trimmed.
 
　　'Thank you very much. Yes, Mrs Brooke, I see; it's a little job, butit makes me neat and happy--and grateful,' she added, looking up withbrighter eyes as she accepted the labour of love and the lesson assweetly as they were given.
 
　　'One of the best and most beloved women I know has been doing oddjobs for the Lord for years, and will keep at it till her dear handsare folded in her coffin. All sorts of things she does--picks upneglected children and puts them in safe homes, saves lost girls,nurses poor women in trouble, sews, knits, trots, begs, works for thepoor day after day with no reward but the thanks of the needy, thelove and honour of the rich who make Saint Matilda their almoner.
 
　　That's a life worth living; and I think that quiet little woman willget a higher seat in Heaven than many of those of whom the world hasheard.'
 
　　'I know it's lovely, Mrs Bhaer; but it's dull for young folks. We dowant a little fun before we buckle to,' said a Western girl with awide-awake face.
 
　　'Have your fun, my dear; but if you must earn your bread, try to makeit sweet with cheerfulness, not bitter with the daily regret that itisn't cake. I used to think mine was a very hard fate because I hadto amuse a somewhat fretful old lady; but the books I read in thatlonely library have been of immense use to me since, and the dear oldsoul bequeathed me Plumfield for my "cheerful service andaffectionate care". I didn't deserve it, but I did use to try to bejolly and kind, and get as much honey out of duty as I could, thanksto my dear mother's help and advice.'
 
　　'Gracious! if I could earn a place like this, I'd sing all day and bean angel; but you have to take your chance, and get nothing for yourpains, perhaps. I never do,' said the Westerner, who had a hard timewith small means and large aspirations.
 
　　'Don't do it for the reward; but be sure it will come, though not inthe shape you expect. I worked hard for fame and money one winter;but I got neither, and was much disappointed. A year afterwards Ifound I had earned two prizes: skill with my pen, and ProfessorBhaer.'
 
　　Mrs Jo's laugh was echoed blithely by the girls, who liked to havethese conversations enlivened by illustrations from life.
 
　　'You are a very lucky woman,' began the discontented damsel, whosesoul soared above new hats, welcome as they were, but did not quiteknow where to steer.
 
　　'Yet her name used to be "Luckless Jo", and she never had what shewanted till she had given up hoping for it,' said Mrs Meg.
 
　　'I'll give up hoping, then, right away, and see if my wishes willcome. I only want to help my folks, and get a good school.'
 
　　'Take this proverb for your guide: "Get the distaff ready, and theLord will send the flax",' answered Mrs Jo.
 
　　'We'd better all do that, if we are to be spinsters,' said the prettyone, adding gaily, 'I think I should like it, on the whole--they areso independent. My Aunt Jenny can do just what she likes, and ask noone's leave; but Ma has to consult Pa about everything. Yes, I'llgive you my chance, Sally, and be a "superfluum", as Mr Plock says.'
 
　　'You'll be one of the first to go into bondage, see if you aren't.
 
　　Much obliged, all the same.'
 
　　'Well, I'll get my distaff ready, and take whatever flax the Fatessend--single, or double-twisted, as the powers please.'
 
　　'That is the right spirit, Nelly. Keep it up, and see how happy lifewill be with a brave heart, a willing hand, and plenty to do.'
 
　　'No one objects to plenty of domestic work or fashionable pleasure, Ifind; but the minute we begin to study, people tell us we can't bearit, and warn us to be very careful. I've tried the other things, andgot so tired I came to college; though my people predict nervousexhaustion and an early death. Do you think there is any danger?'
 
　　asked a stately girl, with an anxious glance at the blooming facereflected in the mirror opposite.
 
　　'Are you stronger or weaker than when you came two years ago, MissWinthrop?'
 
　　'Stronger in body, and much happier in mind. I think I was dying ofennui; but the doctors called it inherited delicacy of constitution.
 
　　That is why mamma is so anxious, and I wish not to go too fast.'
 
　　'Don't worry, my dear; that active brain of yours was starving forgood food; it has plenty now, and plain living suits you better thanluxury and dissipation. It is all nonsense about girls not being ableto study as well as boys. Neither can bear cramming; but with propercare both are better for it; so enjoy the life your instinct led youto, and we will prove that wise headwork is a better cure for thatsort of delicacy than tonics, and novels on the sofa, where far toomany of our girls go to wreck nowadays. They burn the candle at bothends; and when they break down they blame the books, not the balls.'
 
　　'Dr Nan was telling me about a patient of hers who thought she hadheart-complaint, till Nan made her take off her corsets, stopped hercoffee and dancing all night, and made her eat, sleep, walk, and liveregularly for a time; and now she's a brilliant cure. Common senseversus custom, Nan said.'
 
　　'I've had no headaches since I came here, and can do twice as muchstudying as I did at home. It's the air, I think, and the fun ofgoing ahead of the boys,' said another girl, tapping her big foreheadwith her thimble, as if the lively brain inside was in good workingorder and enjoyed the daily gymnastics she gave it.
 
　　'Quality, not quantity, wins the day, you know. Our brains may besmaller, but I don't see that they fall short of what is required ofthem; and if I'm not mistaken, the largest-headed man in our class isthe dullest,' said Nelly, with a solemn air which produced a gale ofmerriment; for all knew that the young Goliath she mentioned had beenmetaphorically slain by this quick-witted David on many abattle-field, to the great disgust of himself and his mates.
 
　　'Mrs Brooke, do I gauge on the right or the wrong side?' asked thebest Greek scholar of her class, eyeing a black silk apron with alost expression.
 
　　'The right, Miss Pierson; and leave a space between the tucks; itlooks prettier so.'
 
　　'I'll never make another; but it will save my dresses fromink-stains, so I'm glad I've got it'; and the erudite Miss Piersonlaboured on, finding it a harder task than any Greek root she everdug up.
 
　　'We paper-stainers must learn how to make shields, or we are lost.
 
　　I'll give you a pattern of the pinafore I used to wear in my"blood-and-thunder days", as we call them,' said Mrs Jo, trying toremember what became of the old tin-kitchen which used to hold herworks.
 
　　'Speaking of writers reminds me that my ambition is to be a GeorgeEliot, and thrill the world! It must be so splendid to know that onehas such power, and to hear people own that one possesses a"masculine intellect"! I don't care for most women's novels, but hersare immense; don't you think so, Mrs Bhaer?' asked the girl with thebig forehead, and torn braid on her skirt.
 
　　'Yes; but they don't thrill me as little Charlotte Bronte's books do.
 
　　The brain is there, but the heart seems left out. I admire, but Idon't love, George Eliot; and her life is far sadder to me than MissBronte's, because, in spite of the genius, love, and fame, she missedthe light without which no soul is truly great, good, or happy.'
 
　　'Yes'm, I know; but still it's so romantic and sort of new andmysterious, and she was great in one sense. Her nerves and dyspepsiado rather destroy the illusion; but I adore famous people and mean togo and see all I can scare up in London some day.'
 
　　'You will find some of the best of them busy about just the work Irecommend to you; and if you want to see a great lady, I'll tell youthat Mrs Laurence means to bring one here today. Lady Abercrombie islunching with her, and after seeing the college is to call on us. Sheespecially wanted to see our sewing-school, as she is interested inthings of this sort, and gets them up at home.'
 
　　'Bless me! I always imagined lords and ladies did nothing but rideround in a coach and six, go to balls, and be presented to the Queenin cocked hats, and trains and feathers,' exclaimed an artless youngperson from the wilds of Maine, whither an illustrated paperoccasionally wandered.
 
　　'Not at all; Lord Abercrombie is over here studying up our Americanprison system, and my lady is busy with the schools-- both veryhigh-born, but the simplest and most sensible people I've met thislong time. They are neither of them young nor handsome, and dressplainly; so don't expect anything splendid. Mr Laurence was tellingme last night about a friend of his who met my lord in the hall, andowing to a rough greatcoat and a red face, mistook him for acoachman, and said: "Now, my man, what do you want here?" LordAbercrombie mildly mentioned who he was, and that he had come todinner. And the poor host was much afflicted, saying afterward: "Whydidn't he wear his stars and garters? then a fellow would know he wasa lord."'
 
　　The girls laughed again, and a general rustle betrayed that each wasprinking a bit before the titled guest arrived. Even Mrs Jo settledher collar, and Mrs Meg felt if her cap was right, while Bess shookout her curls and Josie boldly consulted the glass; for they werewomen, in spite of philosophy and philanthropy.
 
　　'Shall we all rise?' asked one girl, deeply impressed by theimpending honour.
 
　　'It would be courteous.'
 
　　'Shall we shake hands?'
 
　　'No, I'll present you en masse, and your pleasant faces will beintroduction enough.'
 
　　'I wish I'd worn my best dress. Ought to have told us,' whisperedSally.
 
　　'Won't my folks be surprised when I tell them we have had a real ladyto call on us?' said another.
 
　　'Don't look as if you'd never seen a gentlewoman before, Milly. Weare not all fresh from the wilderness,' added the stately damsel who,having Mayflower ancestors, felt that she was the equal of all thecrowned heads of Europe.
 
　　'Hush, she's coming! Oh, my heart, what a bonnet!' cried the gay girlin a stage whisper; and every eye was demurely fixed upon the busyhands as the door opened to admit Mrs Laurence and her guest.
 
　　It was rather a shock to find, after the general introduction wasover, that this daughter of a hundred earls was a stout lady in aplain gown, and a rather weather-beaten bonnet, with a bag of papersin one hand and a note-book in the other. But the face was full ofbenevolence, the sonorous voice very kind, the genial manners verywinning, and about the whole person an indescribable air of highbreeding which made beauty of no consequence, costume soon forgotten,and the moment memorable to the keen-eyed girls whom nothing escaped.
 
　　A little chat about the rise, growth, and success of this particularclass, and then Mrs Jo led the conversation to the English lady'swork, anxious to show her pupils how rank dignifies labour, andcharity blesses wealth.
 
　　It was good for these girls to hear of the evening-schools supportedand taught by women whom they knew and honoured; of Miss Cobbe'seloquent protest winning the protection of the law for abused wives;Mrs Butler saving the lost; Mrs Taylor, who devoted one room in herhistoric house to a library for the servants; Lord Shaftesbury, busywith his new tenement-houses in the slums of London; of prisonreforms; and all the brave work being done in God's name by the richand great for the humble and the poor. It impressed them more thanmany quiet home lectures would have done, and roused an ambition tohelp when their time should come, well knowing that even in gloriousAmerica there is still plenty to be done before she is what sheshould be--truly just, and free, and great. They were also quick tosee that Lady Abercrombie treated all there as her equals, fromstately Mrs Laurence, to little Josie, taking notes of everything andprivately resolving to have some thick-soled English boots as soon aspossible. No one would have guessed that she had a big house inLondon, a castle in Wales, and a grand country seat in Scotland, asshe spoke of Parnassus with admiration, Plumfield as a 'dear oldhome', and the college as an honour to all concerned in it. At that,of course, every head went up a little, and when my lady left, everyhand was ready for the hearty shake the noble Englishwoman gave them,with words they long remembered:
 
　　'I am very pleased to see this much-neglected branch of a woman'seducation so well conducted here, and I have to thank my friend MrsLaurence for one of the most charming pictures I've seen inAmerica--Penelope among her maids.'
 
　　A group of smiling faces watched the stout boots trudge away,respectful glances followed the shabby bonnet till it was out ofsight, and the girls felt a truer respect for their titled guest thanif she had come in the coach and six, with all her diamonds on.
 
　　'I feel better about the "odd jobs" now. I only wish I could do themas well as Lady Abercrombie does,' said one.
 
　　'I thanked my stars my buttonholes were nice, for she looked at themand said: "Quite workmanlike, upon my word," added another, feelingthat her gingham gown had come to honour.
 
　　'Her manners were as sweet and kind as Mrs Brooke's. Not a bit stiffor condescending, as I expected. I see now what you meant, Mrs Bhaer,when you said once that well-bred people were the same all the worldover.'
 
　　Mrs Meg bowed her thanks for the compliment, and Mrs Bhaer said:
 
　　'I know them when I see them, but never shall be a model ofdeportment myself. I'm glad you enjoyed the little visit. Now, if youyoung people don't want England to get ahead of us in many ways, youmust bestir yourselves and keep abreast; for our sisters are inearnest, you see, and don't waste time worrying about their sphere,but make it wherever duty calls them.'
 
　　'We will do our best, ma'am,' answered the girls heartily, andtrooped away with their work-baskets, feeling that though they mightnever be Harriet Martineaus, Elizabeth Brownings, or George Eliots,they might become noble, useful, and independent women, and earn forthemselves some sweet title from the grateful lips of the poor,better than any a queen could bestow.
Chapter 18 Class Day
 The clerk of the weather evidently has a regard for young people, andsends sunshine for class days as often as he can. An especiallylovely one shone over Plumfield as this interesting anniversary cameround, bringing the usual accompaniments of roses, strawberries,white-gowned girls, beaming youths, proud friends, and statelydignitaries full of well-earned satisfaction with the yearly harvest.
 
　　As Laurence College was a mixed one, the presence of young women asstudents gave to the occasion a grace and animation entirely wantingwhere the picturesque half of creation appear merely as spectators.
 
　　The hands that turned the pages of wise books also possessed theskill to decorate the hall with flowers; eyes tired with study shonewith hospitable warmth on the assembling guests; and under the whitemuslins beat hearts as full of ambition, hope, and courage as thoseagitating the broadcloth of the ruling sex.
 
　　College Hill, Parnassus, and old Plum swarmed with cheery faces, asguests, students, and professors hurried to and fro in the pleasantexcitement of arriving and receiving. Everyone was welcomedcordially, whether he rolled up in a fine carriage, or trudged afootto see the good son or daughter come to honour on the happy day thatrewarded many a mutual sacrifice. Mr Laurie and his wife were on thereception committee, and their lovely house was overflowing. Mrs Meg,with Daisy and Jo as aides, was in demand among the girls, helping onbelated toilettes, giving an eye to spreads, and directing thedecorations. Mrs Jo had her hands full as President's lady, and themother of Ted; for it took all the power and skill of that energeticwoman to get her son into his Sunday best.
 
　　Not that he objected to be well arrayed; far from it; he adored goodclothes, and owing to his great height already revelled in adress-suit, bequeathed him by a dandy friend. The effect was veryfunny; but he would wear it in spite of the jeers of his mates, andsighed vainly for a beaver, because his stern parent drew the linethere. He pleaded that English lads of ten wore them and were 'no endnobby'; but his mother only answered, with a consoling pat of theyellow mane:
 
　　'My child, you are absurd enough now; if I let you add a tall hat,Plumfield wouldn't hold either of us, such would be the scorn andderision of all beholders. Content yourself with looking like theghost of a waiter, and don't ask for the most ridiculous head-gear inthe known world.'
 
　　Denied this noble badge of manhood, Ted soothed his wounded soul byappearing in collars of an amazing height and stiffness, and tieswhich were the wonder of all female eyes. This freak was a sort ofvengeance on his hard-hearted mother; for the collars drove thelaundress to despair, never being just right, and the ties requiredsuch art in the tying that three women sometimes laboured longbefore--like Beau Brummel--he turned from a heap of 'failures' withthe welcome words: 'That will do.' Rob was devoted on these tryingoccasions, his own toilet being distinguished only by its speed,simplicity, and neatness. Ted was usually in a frenzy before he wassuited, and roars, whistles, commands, and groans were heard from theden wherein the Lion raged and the Lamb patiently toiled. Mrs Jo boreit till boots were hurled and a rain of hair-brushes set in, then,fearing for the safety of her eldest, she would go to the rescue, andby a wise mixture of fun and authority finally succeed in persuadingTed that he was 'a thing of beauty', if not 'a joy for ever'. At lasthe would stalk majestically forth, imprisoned in collars compared towhich those worn by Dickens's afflicted Biler were trifles not worthmentioning. The dresscoat was a little loose in the shoulders, butallowed a noble expanse of glossy bosom to be seen, and with adelicate handkerchief negligently drooping at the proper angle, had atruly fine effect. Boots that shone, and likewise pinched, appearedat one end of the 'long, black clothes-pin'--as Josie calledhim---and a youthful but solemn face at the other, carried at anangle which, if long continued, would have resulted in spinalcurvature. Light gloves, a cane, and--oh, bitter drop in the cup ofjoy!--an ignominious straw hat, not to mention a choice floweret inthe buttonhole, and a festoon of watchguard below, finished off thisimpressive boy.
 
　　'How's that for style?' he asked, appearing to his mother and cousinswhom he was to escort to the hall on this particular occasion.
 
　　A shout of laughter greeted him, followed by exclamations of horror;for he had artfully added the little blond moustache he often worewhen acting. It was very becoming, and seemed the only balm to healthe wound made by the loss of the beloved hat.
 
　　'Take it off this moment, you audacious boy! What would your fathersay to such a prank on this day when we must all behave our best?'
 
　　said Mrs Jo, trying to frown, but privately thinking that among themany youths about her none were so beautiful and original as her longson.
 
　　'Let him wear it, Aunty; it's so becoming. No one will ever guess heisn't eighteen at least,' cried Josie, to whom disguise of any sortwas always charming.
 
　　'Father won't observe it; he'll be absorbed in his big-wigs and thegirls. No matter if he does, he'll enjoy the joke and introduce me ashis oldest son. Rob is nowhere when I'm in full fig'; and Ted tookthe stage with a tragic stalk, like Hamlet in a tail-coat and choker.
 
　　'My son, obey me!' and when Mrs Jo spoke in that tone her word waslaw. Later, however, the moustache appeared, and many strangersfirmly believed that there were three young Bhaers. So Ted found oneray of joy to light his gloom.
 
　　Mr Bhaer was a proud and happy man when, at the appointed hour, helooked down upon the parterre of youthful faces before him, thinkingof the 'little gardens' in which he had hopefully and faithfullysowed good seed years ago, and from which this beautiful harvestseemed to have sprung. Mr March's fine old face shone with theserenest satisfaction, for this was the dream of his life fulfilledafter patient waiting; and the love and reverence in the countenancesof the eager young men and women looking up at him plainly showedthat the reward he coveted was his in fullest measure. Laurie alwayseffaced himself on these occasions as much as courtesy would permit;for everyone spoke gratefully in ode, poem, and oration of thefounder of the college and noble dispenser of his beneficence. Thethree sisters beamed with pride as they sat among the ladies,enjoying, as only women can, the honour done the men they loved;while 'the original Plums', as the younger ones called themselves,regarded the whole affair as their work, receiving the curious,admiring, or envious glances of strangers with a mixture of dignityand delight rather comical to behold.
 
　　The music was excellent, and well it might be when Apollo waved thebaton. The poems were--as usual on such occasions--of variedexcellence, as the youthful speakers tried to put old truths into newwords, and made them forceful by the enthusiasm of their earnestfaces and fresh voices. It was beautiful to see the eager interestwith which the girls listened to some brilliant brother-student, andapplauded him with a rustle as of wind over a bed of flowers. It wasstill more significant and pleasant to watch the young men's faceswhen a slender white figure stood out against the background ofblack-coated dignitaries, and with cheeks that flushed and paled, andlips that trembled till earnest purpose conquered maiden fear, spoketo them straight out of a woman's heart and brain concerning thehopes and doubts, the aspirations and rewards all must know, desire,and labour for. This clear, sweet voice seemed to reach and rouse allthat was noblest in the souls of these youths, and to set a seal uponthe years of comradeship which made them sacred and memorable forever.
 
　　Alice Heath's oration was unanimously pronounced the success of theday; for without being flowery or sentimental, as is too apt to bethe case with these first efforts of youthful orators, it wasearnest, sensible, and so inspiring that she left the stage in astorm of applause, the good fellows being as much fired by herstirring appeal to 'march shoulder to shoulder', as if she hadchanted the 'Marseillaise' then and there. One young man was soexcited that he nearly rushed out of his seat to receive her as shehastened to hide herself among her mates, who welcomed her with facesfull of tender pride and tearful eye. A prudent sister detained him,however, and in a moment he was able to listen with composure to thePresident's remarks.
 
　　They were worth listening to, for Mr Bhaer spoke like a father to thechildren whom he was dismissing to the battle of life; and histender, wise, and helpful words lingered in their hearts long afterthe praise was forgotten. Then came other exercises peculiar toPlumfield, and the end. Why the roof did not fly off when the sturdylungs of the excited young men pealed out the closing hymn will forever be a mystery; but it remained firm, and only the fading garlandsvibrated as the waves of music rolled up and died away, leaving sweetechoes to haunt the place for another year.
 
　　Dinners and spreads consumed the afternoon, and at sunset came aslight lull as everyone sought some brief repose before thefestivities of the evening began. The President's reception was oneof the enjoyable things in store, also dancing on Parnassus, and asmuch strolling, singing, and flirting, as could be compressed into afew hours by youths and maidens just out of school.
 
　　Carriages were rolling about, and gay groups on piazzas, lawns, andwindow-seats idly speculated as to who the distinguished guests mightbe. The appearance of a very dusty vehicle loaded with trunks at MrBhaer's hospitably open door caused much curious comment among theloungers, especially as two rather foreign-looking gentlemen sprangout, followed by two young ladies, all four being greeted with criesof joy and much embracing by the Bhaers. Then they all disappearedinto the house, the luggage followed, and the watchers were left towonder who the mysterious strangers were, till a fair collegiandeclared that they must be the Professor's nephews, one of whom wasexpected on his wedding journey.
 
　　She was right; Franz proudly presented his blonde and buxom bride,and she was hardly kissed and blessed when Emil led up his bonnyEnglish Mary, with the rapturous announcement:
 
　　'Uncle, Aunt Jo, here's another daughter! Have you room for my wife,too?'
 
　　There could be no doubt of that; and Mary was with difficulty rescuedfrom the glad embraces of her new relatives, who, remembering all theyoung pair had suffered together, felt that this was the natural andhappy ending of the long voyage so perilously begun.
 
　　'But why not tell us, and let us be ready for two brides instead ofone?' asked Mrs Jo, looking as usual rather demoralizing in a wrapperand crimping-pins, having rushed down from her chamber, where she waspreparing for the labours of the evening.
 
　　'Well, I remembered what a good joke you all considered UncleLaurie's marriage, and I thought I'd give you another nice littlesurprise,' laughed Emil. 'I'm off duty, and it seemed best to takeadvantage of wind and tide, and come along as convoy to the old boyhere. We hoped to get in last night, but couldn't fetch it, so herewe are in time for the end of the jollification, anyway.'
 
　　'Ah, my sons, it is too feeling-full to see you both so happy andagain in the old home. I haf no words to outpour my gratitude, andcan only ask of the dear Gott in Himmel to bless and keep you all,'
 
　　cried Professor Bhaer, trying to gather all four into his arms atonce, while tears rolled down his cheeks, and his English failed him.
 
　　An April shower cleared the air and relieved the full hearts of thehappy family; then of course everyone began to talk--Franz andLudmilla in German with uncle, Emil and Mary with the aunts; andround this group gathered the young folk, clamouring to hear allabout the wreck, and the rescue, and the homeward voyage. It was avery different story from the written one; and as they listened toEmil's graphic words, with Mary's soft voice breaking in now and thento add some fact that brought out the courage, patience, andself-sacrifice he so lightly touched upon, it became a solemn andpathetic thing to see and hear these happy creatures tell of thatgreat danger and deliverance.
 
　　'I never hear the patter of rain now that I don't want to say myprayers; and as for women, I'd like to take my hat off to every oneof 'em, for they are braver than any man I ever saw,' said Emil, withthe new gravity that was as becoming to him as the new gentlenesswith which he treated everyone.
 
　　'If women are brave, some men are as tender and self-sacrificing aswomen. I know one who in the night slipped his share of food into agirl's pocket, though starving himself, and sat for hours rocking asick man in his arms that he might get a little sleep. No, love, Iwill tell, and you must let me!' cried Mary, holding in both her ownthe hand he laid on her lips to silence her.
 
　　'Only did my duty. If that torment had lasted much longer I mighthave been as bad as poor Barry and the boatswain. Wasn't that anawful night?' And Emil shuddered as he recalled it.
 
　　'Don't think of it, dear. Tell about the happy days on the Urania,when papa grew better and we were all safe and homeward bound,' saidMary, with the trusting look and comforting touch which seemed tobanish the dark and recall the bright side of that terribleexperience.
 
　　Emil cheered up at once, and sitting with his arm about his 'dearlass', in true sailor fashion told the happy ending of the tale.
 
　　'Such a jolly old time as we had at Hamburg! Uncle Hermann couldn'tdo enough for the captain, and while mamma took care of him, Marylooked after me. I had to go into dock for repairs; fire hurt myeyes, and watching for a sail and want of sleep made 'em as hazy as aLondon fog. She was pilot and brought me in all right, you see, onlyI couldn't part company, so she came aboard as first mate, and I'mbound straight for glory now.'
 
　　'Hush! that's silly, dear,' whispered Mary, trying in her turn tostop him, with English shyness about tender topics. But he took thesoft hand in his, and proudly surveying the one ring it wore, went onwith the air of an admiral aboard his flagship.
 
　　'The captain proposed waiting a spell; but I told him we weren't liketo see any rougher weather than we'd pulled through together, and ifwe didn't know one another after such a year as this, we nevershould. I was sure I shouldn't be worth my pay without this hand onthe wheel; so I had my way, and my brave little woman has shipped forthe long voyage. God bless her!'
 
　　'Shall you really sail with him?' asked Daisy, admiring her courage,but shrinking with cat-like horror from the water.
 
　　'I'm not afraid,' answered Mary, with a loyal smile. 'I've proved mycaptain in fair weather and in foul, and if he is ever wrecked again,I'd rather be with him than waiting and watching ashore.'
 
　　'A true woman, and a born sailor's wife! You are a happy man, Emil,and I'm sure this trip will be a prosperous one,' cried Mrs Jo,delighted with the briny flavour of this courtship. 'Oh, my dear boy,I always felt you'd come back, and when everyone else despaired Inever gave up, but insisted that you were clinging to the main-topjib somewhere on that dreadful sea'; and Mrs Jo illustrated her faithby grasping Emil with a truly Pillycoddian gesture.
 
　　'Of course I was!' answered Emil heartily; 'and my "main-top jib" inthis case was the thought of what you and Uncle said to me. Thatkept me up; and among the million thoughts that came to me duringthose long nights none was clearer than the idea of the red strand,you remember--English navy, and all that. I liked the notion, andresolved that if a bit of my cable was left afloat, the red stripeshould be there.'
 
　　'And it was, my dear, it was! Captain Hardy testifies to that, andhere is your reward'; and Mrs Jo kissed Mary with a maternaltenderness which betrayed that she liked the English rose better thanthe blue-eyed German Kornblumen, sweet and modest though it was.
 
　　Emil surveyed the little ceremony with complacency, saying, as helooked about the room which he never thought to see again: 'Odd,isn't it, how clearly trifles come back to one in times of danger? Aswe floated there, half-starved, and in despair, I used to think Iheard the bells ringing here, and Ted tramping downstairs, and youcalling, "Boys, boys, it's time to get up!" I actually smelt thecoffee we used to have, and one night I nearly cried when I woke froma dream of Asia's ginger cookies. I declare, it was one of thebitterest disappointments of my life to face hunger with that spicysmell in my nostrils. If you've got any, do give me one!'
 
　　A pitiful murmur broke from all the aunts and cousins, and Emil wasat once borne away to feast on the desired cookies, a supply alwaysbeing on hand. Mrs Jo and her sister joined the other group, glad tohear what Franz was saying about Nat.
 
　　'The minute I saw how thin and shabby he was, I knew that somethingwas wrong; but he made light of it, and was so happy over our visitand news that I let him off with a brief confession, and went toProfessor Baumgarten and Bergmann. From them I learned the wholestory of his spending more money than he ought and trying to atonefor it by unnecessary work and sacrifice. Baumgarten thought itwould do him good, so kept his secret till I came. It did him good,and he's paid his debts and earned his bread by the sweat of hisbrow, like an honest fellow.'
 
　　'I like that much in Nat. It is, as I said, a lesson, and he learnsit well. He proves himself a man, and has deserved the place Bergmannoffers him,' said Mr Bhaer, looking well pleased as Franz added somefacts already recorded.
 
　　'I told you, Meg, that he had good stuff in him, and love for Daisywould keep him straight. Dear lad, I wish I had him here thismoment!' cried Mrs Jo, forgetting in delight the doubts and anxietieswhich had troubled her for months past.
 
　　'I am very glad, and suppose I shall give in as I always do,especially now that the epidemic rages so among us. You and Emil haveset all their heads in a ferment, and Josie will be demanding a loverbefore I can turn round,' answered Mrs Meg, in a tone of despair.
 
　　But her sister saw that she was touched by Nat's trials, and hastenedto add the triumphs, that the victory might be complete, for successis always charming.
 
　　'This offer of Herr Bergmann is a good one, isn't it?' she asked,though Mr Laurie had already satisfied her on that point when Nat'sletter brought the news.
 
　　'Very fine in every way. Nat will get capital drill in Bachmeister'sorchestra, see London in a delightful way, and if he suits come homewith them, well started among the violins. No great honour, but asure thing and a step up. I congratulated him, and he was very jollyover it, saying, like the true lover he is: "Tell Daisy; be sure andtell her all about it." I'll leave that to you, Aunt Meg, and you canalso break it gently to her that the old boy had a fine blond beard.
 
　　Very becoming; hides his weak mouth, and gives a noble air to his bigeyes and "Mendelssohnian brow", as a gushing girl called it. Ludmillahas a photo of it for you.'
 
　　This amused them; and they listened to many other interesting bits ofnews which kind Franz, even in his own happiness, had not forgottento remember for his friend's sake. He talked so well, and paintedNat's patient and pathetic shifts so vividly, that Mrs Meg was halfwon; though if she had learned of the Minna episode and the fiddlingin beer-gardens and streets, she might not have relented so soon. Shestored up all she heard, however, and, womanlike, promised herself adelicious talk with Daisy, in which she would allow herself to meltby degrees, and perhaps change the doubtful 'We shall see' to acordial 'He has done well; be happy, dear'.
 
　　In the midst of this agreeable chat the sudden striking of a clockrecalled Mrs Jo from romance to reality, and she exclaimed, with aclutch at her crimping-pins:
 
　　'My blessed people, you must eat and rest; and I must dress, orreceive in this disgraceful rig. Meg, will you take Ludmilla and Maryupstairs and see to them? Franz knows the way to the dining-room.
 
　　Fritz, come with me and be made tidy, for what with heat and emotion,we are both perfect wrecks.'
Chapter 19 White Roses
 While the travellers refreshed, and Mrs President struggled into herbest gown, Josie ran into the garden to gather flowers for thebrides. The sudden arrival of these interesting beings had quiteenchanted the romantic girl, and her head was full of heroic rescues,tender admiration, dramatic situations, and feminine wonder as towhether the lovely creatures would wear their veils or not. She wasstanding before a great bush of white roses, culling the most perfectfor the bouquets which she meant to tie with the ribbon festoonedover her arm, and lay on the toilette tables of the new cousins, as adelicate attention. A step startled her, and looking up she saw herbrother coming down the path with folded arms, bent head, and theabsent air of one absorbed in deep thought.
 
　　'Sophy Wackles,' said the sharp child, with a superior smile, as shesucked her thumb just pricked by a too eager pull at the thornybranches.
 
　　'What are you at here, Mischief?' asked Demi, with an Irvingesquestart, as he felt rather than saw a disturbing influence in hisday-dream.
 
　　'Getting flowers for "our brides". Don't you wish you had one?'
 
　　answered Josie, to whom the word 'mischief' suggested her favouriteamusement.
 
　　'A bride or a flower?' asked Demi calmly, though he eyed the bloomingbush as if it had a sudden and unusual interest for him.
 
　　'Both; you get the one, and I'll give you the other.'
 
　　'Wish I could!' and Demi picked a little bud, with a sigh that wentto Josie's warm heart.
 
　　'Why don't you, then? It's lovely to see people so happy. Now's agood time to do it if you ever mean to. She will be going away forever soon.'
 
　　'Who?' and Demi pulled a half-opened bud, with a sudden colour in hisown face; which sign of confusion delighted little Jo.
 
　　'Don't be a hypocrite. You know I mean Alice. Now, Jack, I'm fond ofyou, and want to help; it's so interesting--all these lovers andweddings and things, and we ought to have our share. So you take myadvice and speak up like a man, and make sure of Alice before shegoes.'
 
　　Demi laughed at the seriousness of the small girl's advice; but heliked it, and showed that it suited him by saying blandly, instead ofsnubbing her as usual:
 
　　'You are very kind, child. Since you are so wise, could you give me ahint how I'd better 'speak up', as you elegantly express it?'
 
　　'Oh, well, there are various ways, you know. In plays the lovers godown on their knees; but that's awkward when they have long legs.
 
　　Ted never does it well, though I drill him for hours. You could say,"Be mine, be mine!" like the old man who threw cucumbers over thewall to Mrs Nickleby, if you want to be gay and easy; or you couldwrite a poetical pop. You've tried it, I dare say.'
 
　　'But seriously, Jo, I do love Alice, and I think she knows it. I wantto tell her so; but I lose my head when I try, and don't care to makea fool of myself. Thought you might suggest some pretty way; you readso much poetry and are so romantic.'
 
　　Demi tried to express himself clearly, but forgot his dignity and hisusual reserve in the sweet perplexity of his love, and asked hislittle sister to teach him how to put the question which a singleword can answer. The arrival of his happy cousins had scattered allhis wise plans and brave resolutions to wait still longer. TheChristmas play had given him courage to hope, and the oration todayhad filled him with tender pride; but the sight of those bloomingbrides and beaming grooms was too much for him, and he panted tosecure his Alice without an hour's delay. Daisy was his confidante inall things but this; a brotherly feeling of sympathy had kept himfrom telling her his hopes, because her own were forbidden. Hismother was rather jealous of any girl he admired; but knowing thatshe liked Alice, he loved on and enjoyed his secret alone, meaningsoon to tell her all about it.
 
　　Now suddenly Josie and the rose-bush seemed to suggest a speedy endto his tender perplexities; and he was moved to accept her aid as thenetted lion did that of the mouse.
 
　　'I think I'll write,' he was slowly beginning, after a pause duringwhich both were trying to strike out a new and brilliant idea.
 
　　'I've got it! perfectly lovely! just suit her, and you too, being apoet!' cried Josie, with a skip.
 
　　'What is it? Don't be ridiculous, please,' begged the bashful lover,eager, but afraid of this sharp-tongued bit of womanhood.
 
　　'I read in one of Miss Edgeworth's stories about a man who offersthree roses to his lady--a bud, a half-blown, and a full-blown rose.
 
　　I don't remember which she took; but it's a pretty way; and Aliceknows about it because she was there when we read it. Here are allkinds; you've got the two buds, pick the sweetest rose you can find,and I'll tie them up and put them in her room. She is coming to dresswith Daisy, so I can do it nicely.'
 
　　Demi mused a moment with his eyes on the bridal bush, and a smilecame over his face so unlike any it had ever worn before, that Josiewas touched, and looked away as if she had no right to see the dawnof the great passion which, while it lasts, makes a young man ashappy as a god.
 
　　'Do it,' was all he said, and gathered a full-blown rose to finishhis floral love-message.
 
　　Charmed to have a finger in this romantic pie, Josie tied a gracefulbow of ribbon about the stems, and finished her last nosegay withmuch content, while Demi wrote upon a card:
 
　　DEAR ALICE, You know what the flowers mean. Will you wearone, or all tonight, and make me still prouder, fonder, andhappier than I am?
 
　　Yours entirely,JOHNOffering this to his sister, he said in a tone that made her feel thedeep importance of her mission:
 
　　'I trust you, Jo. This means everything to me. No jokes, dear, if youlove me.'
 
　　Josie's answer was a kiss that promised all things; and then she ranaway to do her 'gentle spiriting', like Ariel, leaving Demi to dreamamong the roses like Ferdinand.
 
　　Mary and Ludmilla were charmed with their bouquets; and the giver hadthe delight of putting some of the flowers into the dark hair and thelight as she played maid at the toilettes of 'our brides', whichconsoled her for a disappointment in the matter of veils.
 
　　No one helped Alice dress; for Daisy was in the next room with hermother; and not even their loving eyes saw the welcome which thelittle posy received, nor the tears and smiles and blushes that cameand went as she read the note and pondered what answer she shouldgive. There was no doubt about the one she wished to give; but dutyheld her back; for at home there was an invalid mother and an oldfather. She was needed there, with all the help she could now bringby the acquirements four years of faithful study had given her. Lovelooked very sweet, and a home of her own with John a little heaven onearth; but not yet. And she slowly laid away the full-blown rose asshe sat before the mirror, thinking over the great question of herlife.
 
　　Was it wise and kind to ask him to wait, to bind him by any promise,or even to put into words the love and honour she felt for him? No;it would be more generous to make the sacrifice alone, and spare himthe pain of hope deferred. He was young; he would forget; and shewould do her duty better, perhaps, if no impatient lover waited forher. With eyes that saw but dimly, and a hand that lingered on thestem he had stripped of thorns, she laid the half-blown flower by therose, and asked herself if even the little bud might be worn. Itlooked very poor and pale beside the others; yet being in theself-sacrificing mood which real love brings, she felt that even asmall hope was too much to give, if she could not follow it up withmore.
 
　　As she sat looking sadly down on the symbols of an affection thatgrew dearer every moment, she listened half unconsciously to themurmur of voices in the adjoining room. Open windows, thinpartitions, and the stillness of summer twilight made it impossibleto help hearing, and in a few moments more she could not refrain; forthey were talking of John.
 
　　'So nice of Ludmilla to bring us all bottles of real German cologne!
 
　　Just what we need after this tiring day! Be sure John has his! Helikes it so!'
 
　　'Yes, mother. Did you see him jump up when Alice ended her oration?
 
　　He'd have gone to her if I hadn't held him back. I don't wonder hewas pleased and proud. I spoilt my gloves clapping, and quite forgotmy dislike of seeing women on platforms, she was so earnest andunconscious and sweet after the first moment.'
 
　　'Has he said anything to you, dear?'
 
　　'No; and I guess why. The kind boy thinks it would make me unhappy.
 
　　It wouldn't. But I know his ways; so I wait, and hope all will gowell with him.'
 
　　'It must. No girl in her senses would refuse our John, though heisn't rich, and never will be. Daisy, I've been longing to tell youwhat he did with his money. He told me last night, and I've had notime since to tell you. He sent poor young Barton to the hospital,and kept him there till his eyes were saved--a costly thing to do.
 
　　But the man can work now and care for his old parents. He was indespair, sick and poor, and too proud to beg; and our dear boy foundit out, and took every penny he had, and never told even his mothertill she made him.'
 
　　Alice did not hear what Daisy answered, for she was busy with her ownemotions--happy ones now, to judge from the smile that shone in hereyes and the decided gesture with which she put the little bud in herbosom, as if she said: 'He deserves some reward for that good deed,and he shall have it.'
 
　　Mrs Meg was speaking, and still of John, when she could hear again:
 
　　'Some people would call it unwise and reckless, when John has solittle; but I think his first investment a safe and good one, for "hewho giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord"; and I was so pleased andproud, I wouldn't spoil it by offering him a penny.'
 
　　'It is his having nothing to offer that keeps him silent, I think. Heis so honest, he won't ask till he has much to give. But he forgetsthat love is everything. I know he's rich in that; I see and feel it;and any woman should be glad to get it.'
 
　　'Right, dear. I felt just so, and was willing to work and wait withand for my John.'
 
　　'So she will be, and I hope they will find it out. But she is sodutiful and good, I'm afraid she won't let herself be happy. Youwould like it, mother?'
 
　　'Heartily; for a better, nobler girl doesn't live. She is all I wantfor my son; and I don't mean to lose the dear, brave creature if Ican help it. Her heart is big enough for both love and duty; and theycan wait more happily if they do it together--for wait they must, ofcourse.'
 
　　'I'm so glad his choice suits you, mother, and he is spared thesaddest sort of disappointment.'
 
　　Daisy's voice broke there; and a sudden rustle, followed by a softmurmur, seemed to tell that she was in her mother's arms, seeking andfinding comfort there.
 
　　Alice heard no more, and shut her window with a guilty feeling but ashining face; for the proverb about listeners failed here, and shehad learned more than she dared to hope. Things seemed to changesuddenly; she felt that her heart was large enough for both love andduty; she knew now that she would be welcomed by mother and sister;and the memory of Daisy's less happy fate, Nat's weary probation, thelong delay, and possible separation for ever--all came before her sovividly that prudence seemed cruelty; self-sacrifice, sentimentalfolly; and anything but the whole truth, disloyalty to her lover. Asshe thought thus, the half-blown rose went to join the bud; and then,after a pause, she slowly kissed the perfect rose, and added it tothe tell-tale group, saying to herself with a sort of sweetsolemnity, as if the words were a vow:
 
　　'I'll love and work and wait with and for my John.'
 
　　It was well for her that Demi was absent when she stole down to jointhe guests who soon began to flow through the house in a steadystream. The new brightness which touched her usually thoughtful facewas easily explained by the congratulations she received as orator,and the slight agitation observable, when a fresh batch of gentlemenapproached soon passed, as none of them noticed the flowers she woreover a very happy heart. Demi meantime was escorting certainvenerable personages about the college, and helping his grandfatherentertain them with discussion of the Socratic method of instruction,Pythagoras, Pestalozzi, Froebel, and the rest, whom he devoutlywished at the bottom of the Red Sea, and no wonder, for his head andhis heart were full of love and roses, hopes and fears. He pilotedthe 'potent, grave, and reverend seigniors' safely down to Plumfieldat last, and landed them before his uncle and aunt Bhaer, who werereceiving in state, the one full of genuine delight in all men andthings, the other suffering martyrdom with a smile, as she stoodshaking hand after hand, and affecting utter unconsciousness of thesad fact that ponderous Professor Plock had camped upon the train ofher state and festival velvet gown.
 
　　With a long sigh of relief Demi glanced about him for the belovedgirl. Most persons would have looked some time before any particularangel could be discovered among the white-robed throng in parlours,hall, and study; but his eye went--like the needle to the pole--tothe corner where a smooth dark head, with its braided crown, roselike a queen's, he thought, above the crowd which surrounded her.
 
　　Yes, she has a flower at her throat; one, two, oh, blessed sight! hesaw it all across the room, and gave a rapturous sigh which causedMiss Perry's frizzled crop to wave with a sudden gust. He did not seethe rose, for it was hidden by a fold of lace; and it was well,perhaps, that bliss came by instalments, or he might have electrifiedthe assembled multitude by flying to his idol, there being no Daisyto clutch him by the coat-tail. A stout lady, thirsting forinformation, seized him at that thrilling moment, and he was forcedto point out celebrities with a saintly patience which deserved abetter reward than it received; for a certain absence of mind andincoherence of speech at times caused the ungrateful dowager towhisper to the first friend she met after he had escaped:
 
　　'I saw no wine at any of the spreads; but it is plain that youngBrooke has had too much. Quite gentlemanly, but evidently a trifleintoxicated, my dear.'
 
　　Ah, so he was! but with a diviner wine than any that ever sparkled ata class-day lunch, though many collegians know the taste of it; andwhen the old lady was disposed of, he gladly turned to find the youngone, bent on having a single word. He saw her standing by the pianonow, idly turning over music as she talked with several gentlemen.
 
　　Hiding his impatience under an air of scholastic repose, Demi hoverednear, ready to advance when the happy moment came, wondering meantimewhy elderly persons persisted in absorbing young ones instead ofsensibly sitting in corners with their contemporaries. The elderlypersons in question retired at length, but only to be replaced by twoimpetuous youths who begged Miss Heath to accompany them to Parnassusand join the dance. Demi thirsted for their blood, but was appeasedby hearing George and Dolly say, as they lingered a moment after herrefusal:
 
　　'Really, you know, I'm quite converted to co-education and almostwish I'd remained here. It gives a grace to study, a sort of relisheven to Greek to see charming girls at it,' said Stuffy, who foundthe feast of learning so dry, any sauce was welcome; and he felt asif he had discovered a new one.
 
　　'Yes, by Jove! we fellows will have to look out or you'll carry offall the honours. You were superb today, and held us all like magic,though it was so hot there, I really think I couldn't have stood itfor anyone else,' added Dolly, labouring to be gallant and reallyoffering a touching proof of devotion; for the heat melted hiscollar, took the curl out of his hair, and ruined his gloves.
 
　　'There is room for all; and if you will leave us the books, we willcheerfully yield the baseball, boating, dancing, and flirting, whichseem to be the branches you prefer,' answered Alice sweetly.
 
　　'Ah, now you are too hard upon us! We can't grind all the time andyou ladies don't seem to mind taking a turn at the two latter"branches" you mention,' returned Dolly, with a glance at Georgewhich plainly said, 'I had her there.'
 
　　'Some of us do in our first years. Later we give up childish things,you see. Don't let me keep you from Parnassus'; and a smiling noddismissed them, smarting under the bitter consciousness of youth.
 
　　'You got it there, Doll. Better not try to fence with these superiorgirls. Sure to be routed, horse, foot, and dragoons,' said Stuffy,lumbering away, somewhat cross with too many spreads.
 
　　'So deuced sarcastic! Don't believe she's much older than we are.
 
　　Girls grow up quicker, so she needn't put on airs and talk like agrandmother,' muttered Dolly, feeling that he had sacrificed his kidsupon the altar of an ungrateful Pallas.
 
　　'Come along and let's find something to eat. I'm faint with so muchtalking. Old Plock cornered me and made my head spin with Kant andHegel and that lot.'
 
　　'I promised Dora West I'd give her a turn. Must look her up; she's ajolly little thing, and doesn't bother about anything but keeping instep.'
 
　　And arm in arm the boys strolled away, leaving Alice to read music asdiligently as if society had indeed no charms for her. As she bent toturn a page, the eager young man behind the piano saw the rose andwas struck speechless with delight. A moment he gazed, then hastenedto seize the coveted place before a new detachment of bores arrived.
 
　　'Alice, I can't believe it--did you understand--how shall I everthank you?' murmured Demi, bending as if he, too, read the song, nota note or word of which did he see, however.
 
　　'Hush! not now. I understood--I don't deserve it--we are too young,we must wait, but--I'm very proud and happy, John!'
 
　　What would have happened after that tender whisper I tremble tothink, if Tom Bangs had not come bustling up, with the cheerfulremark:
 
　　'Music? just the thing. People are thinning out, and we all want alittle refreshment. My brain fairly reels with the 'ologies and 'ismsI've heard discussed tonight. Yes, give us this; sweet thing! Scotchsongs are always charming.'
 
　　Demi glowered; but the obtuse boy never saw it, and Alice, feelingthat this would be a safe vent for sundry unruly emotions, sat downat once, and sang the song which gave her answer better than shecould have done:
 
　　BIDE A WEE'The puir auld folk at home, ye mind,Are frail and failing sair;And weel I ken they'd miss me, lad,Gin I come hame nae mair.
 
　　The grist is out, the times are hard,The kine are only three;I canna leave the auld folk now.
 
　　We'd better bide a wee.
 
　　'I fear me sair they're failing baith;For when I sit apart,They talk o' Heaven so earnestly,It well nigh breaks my heart.
 
　　So, laddie, dinna urge me now,It surely winna be;I canna leave the auld folk yet.
 
　　We'd better bide a wee.'
 
　　The room was very still before the first verse ended; and Aliceskipped the next, fearing she could not get through; for John's eyeswere on her, showing that he knew she sang for him and let theplaintive little ballad tell what her reply must be. He took it asshe meant it, and smiled at her so happily that her heart got thebetter of her voice, and she rose abruptly, saying something aboutthe heat.
 
　　'Yes, you are tired; come out and rest, my dearest'; and with amasterful air Demi took her into the starlight, leaving Tom to stareafter them winking as if a sky-rocket had suddenly gone off under hisnose.
 
　　'Bless my soul! the Deacon really meant business last summer andnever told me. Won't Dora laugh?' And Tom departed in hot haste toimpart and exult over his discovery.
 
　　What was said in the garden was never exactly known; but the Brookefamily sat up very late that night, and any curious eye at the windowwould have seen Demi receiving the homage of his womankind as he toldhis little romance. Josie took great credit to herself in the matter,insisting that she had made the match; Daisy was full of the sweetestsympathy and joy, and Mrs Meg so happy that when Jo had gone to dreamof bridal veils, and Demi sat in his room blissfully playing the airof 'Bide a Wee', she had her talk about Nat, ending with her armsround her dutiful daughter and these welcome words as her reward:
 
　　'Wait till Nat comes home, and then my good girl shall wear whiteroses too.'
Chapter 20 Life for Life
 The summer days that followed were full of rest and pleasure foryoung and old, as they did the honours of Plumfield to their happyguests. While Franz and Emil were busy with the affairs of UncleHermann and Captain Hardy, Mary and Ludmilla made friends everywhere;for, though very unlike, both were excellent and charming girls. MrsMeg and Daisy found the German bride a Hausfrau after their ownhearts, and had delightful times learning new dishes, hearing aboutthe semi-yearly washes and the splendid linen-room at Hamburg, ordiscussing domestic life in all its branches. Ludmilla not onlytaught, but learned, many things, and went home with many new anduseful ideas in her blonde head.
 
　　Mary had seen so much of the world that she was unusually lively foran English girl; while her various accomplishments made her a mostagreeable companion. Much good sense gave her ballast; and the lateexperiences of danger and happiness added a sweet gravity at times,which contrasted well with her natural gaiety. Mrs Jo was quitesatisfied with Emil's choice, and felt sure this true and tenderpilot would bring him safe to port through fair or stormy weather.
 
　　She had feared that Franz would settle down into a comfortable,moneymaking burgher, and be content with that; but she soon saw thathis love of music and his placid Ludmilla put much poetry into hisbusy life, and kept it from being too prosaic. So she felt at restabout these boys, and enjoyed their visit with real, maternalsatisfaction; parting with them in September most regretfully, yethopefully, as they sailed away to the new life that lay before them.
 
　　Demi's engagement was confided to the immediate family only, as bothwere pronounced too young to do anything but love and wait. Theywere so happy that time seemed to stand still for them, and after ablissful week they parted bravely--Alice to home duties, with a hopethat sustained and cheered her through many trials; and John to hisbusiness, full of a new ardour which made all things possible whensuch a reward was offered.
 
　　Daisy rejoiced over them, and was never tired of hearing herbrother's plans for the future. Her own hope soon made her what sheused to be--a cheery, busy creature, with a smile, kind word, andhelping hand for all; and as she went singing about the house again,her mother felt that the right remedy for past sadness had beenfound. The dear Pelican still had doubts and fears, but kept themwisely to herself, preparing sundry searching tests to be appliedwhen Nat came home, and keeping a sharp eye on the letters fromLondon; for some mysterious hint had flown across the sea, andDaisy's content seemed reflected in Nat's present cheerful state ofmind.
 
　　Having passed through the Werther period, and tried a little Faust--of which experience he spoke to his Marguerite as if it had includedan acquaintance with Mephistopheles, Blocksburg, and Auerbach'swine-cellar--he now felt that he was a Wilhelm Meister, serving hisapprenticeship to the great masters of life. As she knew the truth ofhis small sins and honest repentance, Daisy only smiled at themixture of love and philosophy he sent her, knowing that it wasimpossible for a young man to live in Germany without catching theGerman spirit.
 
　　'His heart is all right; and his head will soon grow clear when hegets out of the fog of tobacco, beer, and metaphysics he's beenliving in. England will wake up his common sense, and good salt airblow his little follies all away,' said Mrs Jo, much pleased with thegood prospects of her violinist--whose return was delayed tillspring, to his private regret, but professional advancement.
 
　　Josie had a month with Miss Cameron at the seaside, and threw herselfso heartily into the lesson given her that her energy, promise, andpatience laid the foundation of a friendship which was of infinitevalue to her in the busy, brilliant years to come; for little Jo'sinstincts were right; and the dramatic talent of the Marches was toblossom by and by into an actress, virtuous, and beloved.
 
　　Tom and his Dora were peacefully ambling altar-ward; for Bangs seniorwas so afraid his son would change his mind again and try a thirdprofession, that he gladly consented to an early marriage, as a sortof anchor to hold the mercurial Thomas fast. Aforesaid Thomas couldnot complain of cold shoulders now; for Dora was a most devoted andadoring little mate, and made life so pleasant to him that his giftfor getting into scrapes seemed lost, and he bade fair to become athriving man, with undeniable talent for the business he had chosen.
 
　　'We shall be married in the autumn, and live with my father for awhile. The governor is getting on, you know, and my wife and I mustlook after him. Later we shall have an establishment of our own,' wasa favourite speech of his about this time, and usually received withsmiles; for the idea of Tommy Bangs at the head of an 'establishment'
 
　　was irresistibly funny to all who knew him.
 
　　Things were in this flourishing condition, and Mrs Jo was beginningto think her trials were over for that year, when a new excitementcame. Several postal cards had arrived at long intervals from Dan,who gave them 'Care of M. Mason, etc.', as his address. By thismeans he was able to gratify his longing for home news, and to sendbrief messages to quiet their surprise at his delay in settling. Thelast one, which came in September, was dated 'Montana', and simplysaid:
 
　　Here at last, trying mining again; but not going to stay long. Allsorts of luck. Gave up the farm idea. Tell plans soon. Well, busy,and very happy. D. K.
 
　　If they had known what the heavy dash under 'happy' meant, thatpostal would have been a very eloquent bit of pasteboard; for Dan wasfree, and had gone straight away to the liberty he panted for.
 
　　Meeting an old friend by accident, he obliged him at a pinch byacting as overseer for a time, finding the society even of roughminers very sweet, and something in the muscular work wonderfullypleasant, after being cooped up in the brush-shop so long. He lovedto take a pick and wrestle with rock and earth till he wasweary--which was very soon; for that year of captivity had told uponhis splendid physique. He longed to go home, but waited week afterweek to get the prison taint off him and the haggard look out of hisface. Meanwhile he made friends of masters and men; and as no oneknew his story, he took his place again in the world gratefully andgladly--with little pride now, and no plans but to do some goodsomewhere, and efface the past.
 
　　Mrs Jo was having a grand clearing-out of her desk one October day,while the rain poured outside, and peace reigned in her mansion.
 
　　Coming across the postals, she pondered over them, and then put themcarefully away in the drawer labelled 'Boys' Letters', saying toherself, as she bundled eleven requests for autographs into thewaste-paper basket:
 
　　'It is quite time for another card, unless he is coming to tell hisplans. I'm really curious to know what he has been about all thisyear, and how he's getting on now.'
 
　　That last wish was granted within an hour; for Ted came rushing in,with a newspaper in one hand, a collapsed umbrella in the other, anda face full of excitement, announcing, all in one breathless jumble:
 
　　'Mine caved in--twenty men shut up--no way out--wives crying-- waterrising--Dan knew the old shaft--risked his life--got 'em out --mostkilled--papers full of it--I knew he'd be a hero--hurray for oldDan!'
 
　　'What? Where? When? Who? Stop roaring, and let me read!' commandedhis mother, entirely bewildered.
 
　　Relinquishing the paper, Ted allowed her to read for herself, withfrequent interruptions from him--and Rob, who soon followed, eagerfor the tale. It was nothing new; but courage and devotion alwaysstir generous hearts, and win admiration; so the account was bothgraphic and enthusiastic; and the name of Daniel Kean, the brave manwho saved the lives of others at the risk of his own, was on manylips that day. Very proud were the faces of these friends as theyread how their Dan was the only one who, in the first panic of theaccident, remembered the old shaft that led into the mine--walled up,but the only hope of escape, if the men could be got out before therising water drowned them; how he was lowered down alone, telling theothers to keep back till he saw if it was safe; how he heard the poorfellows picking desperately for their lives on the other side, and byknocks and calls guided them to the right spot; then headed therescue party, and working like a hero, got the men out in time. Onbeing drawn up last of all, the worn rope broke, and he had aterrible fall, being much hurt, but was still alive. How the gratefulwomen kissed his blackened face and bloody hands, as the men bore himaway in triumph, and the owners of the mine promised a handsomereward, if he lived to receive it!
 
　　'He must live; he shall, and come home to be nursed as soon as he canstir, if I go and bring him myself! I always knew he'd do somethingfine and brave, if he didn't get shot or hung for some wild prankinstead,' cried Mrs Jo, much excited.
 
　　'Do go, and take me with you, Mum. I ought to be the one, Dan's sofond of me and I of him,' began Ted, feeling that this would be anexpedition after his own heart.
 
　　Before his mother could reply, Mr Laurie came in, with almost as muchnoise and flurry as Teddy the second, exclaiming as he waved theevening paper:
 
　　'Seen the news, Jo? What do you think? Shall I go off at once, andsee after that brave boy?'
 
　　'I wish you would. But the thing may not be all true--rumour lies so.
 
　　Perhaps a few hours will bring an entirely new version of the story.'
 
　　'I've telephoned to Demi for all he can find out; and if it's true,I'll go at once. Should like the trip. If he's able, I'll bring himhome; if not, I'll stay and see to him. He'll pull through. Dan willnever die of a fall on his head. He's got nine lives, and not losthalf of them yet.'
 
　　'If you go, uncle, mayn't I go with you? I'm just spoiling for ajourney; and it would be such larks to go out there with you, and seethe mines and Dan, and hear all about it, and help. I can nurse.
 
　　Can't I, Rob?' cried Teddy, in his most wheedlesome tones.
 
　　'Pretty well. But if mother can't spare you, I'm ready if uncle needsanyone,' answered Rob, in his quiet way, looking much fitter for thetrip than excitable Ted.
 
　　'I can't spare either of you. My boys get into trouble, unless I keepthem close at home. I've no right to hold the others; but I won't letyou out of my sight, or something will happen. Never saw such a year,with wrecks and weddings and floods and engagements, and every sortof catastrophe!' exclaimed Mrs Jo.
 
　　'If you deal in girls and boys, you must expect this sort of thing,ma'am. The worst is over, I hope, till these lads begin to go off.
 
　　Then I'll stand by you; for you'll need every kind of support andcomfort, specially if Ted bolts early,' laughed Mr Laurie, enjoyingher lamentations.
 
　　'I don't think anything can surprise me now; but I am anxious aboutDan, and feel that someone had better go to him. It's a rough placeout there, and he may need careful nursing. Poor lad, he seems to geta good many hard knocks! But perhaps he needs them as "a mellerin'
 
　　process", as Hannah used to say.'
 
　　'We shall hear from Demi before long, and then I'll be off.' Withwhich cheerful promise Mr Laurie departed; and Ted, finding hismother firm, soon followed, to coax his uncle to take him.
 
　　Further inquiry confirmed and added interest to the news. Mr Lauriewas off at once; and Ted went into town with him, still vainlyimploring to be taken to his Dan. He was absent all day; but hismother said, calmly:
 
　　'Only a fit of the sulks because he is thwarted. He's safe with Tomor Demi, and will come home hungry and meek at night. I know him.'
 
　　But she soon found that she could still be surprised; for eveningbrought no Ted, and no one had seen him. Mr Bhaer was just settingoff to find his lost son, when a telegram arrived, dated at one ofthe way-stations on Mr Laurie's route:
 
　　Found Ted in the cars. Take him along. Write tomorrow.
 
　　T. LAURENCE'Ted bolted sooner than you expected, mother. Never mind--uncle willtake good care of him, and Dan be very glad to see him,' said Rob, asMrs Jo sat, trying to realize that her youngest was actually on hisway to the wild West.
 
　　'Disobedient boy! He shall be severely punished, if I ever get himagain. Laurie winked at this prank; I know he did. Just like him.
 
　　Won't the two rascals have a splendid time? Wish I was with them!
 
　　Don't believe that crazy boy took even a night-gown with him, or anovercoat. Well, there will be two patients for us to nurse when theyget back, if they ever do. Those reckless express trains always godown precipices, and burn up, or telescope. Oh! my Ted, my preciousboy, how can I let him go so far away from me?'
 
　　And mother-like, Mrs Jo forgot the threatened chastisement in tenderlamentations over the happy scapegrace, now whizzing across thecontinent in high feather at the success of his first revolt. MrLaurie was much amused at his insisting that those words, 'when Tedbolts', put the idea into his head; and therefore the responsibilityrested upon his shoulders. He assumed it kindly from the moment hecame upon the runaway asleep in a car, with no visible luggage but abottle of wine for Dan and a blacking-brush for himself; and as MrsJo suspected, the 'two rascals' did have a splendid time. Penitentletters arrived in due season, and the irate parents soon forgot tochide in their anxiety about Dan, who was very ill, and did not knowhis friends for several days. Then he began to mend; and everyoneforgave the bad boy when he proudly reported that the first consciouswords Dan said were: 'Hallo, Ted!' with a smile of pleasure at seeinga familiar face bent over him.
 
　　'Glad he went, and I won't scold any more. Now, what shall we put inthe box for Dan?' And Mrs Jo worked off her impatience to get hold ofthe invalid by sending comforts enough for a hospital.
 
　　Cheering accounts soon began to come, and at length Dan waspronounced able to travel, but seemed in no haste to go home, thoughnever tired of hearing his nurses talk of it.
 
　　'Dan is strangely altered,' wrote Laurie to Jo; 'not by this illnessalone, but by something which has evidently gone before. I don't knowwhat, and leave you to ask; but from his ravings when delirious Ifear he has been in some serious trouble the past year. He seems tenyears older, but improved, quieter, and so grateful to us. It ispathetic to see the hunger in his eyes as they rest on Ted, as if hecouldn't see enough of him. He says Kansas was a failure, but can'ttalk much; so I bide my time. The people here love him very much, andhe cares for that sort of thing now; used to scorn any show ofemotion, you know; now he wants everyone to think well of him, andcan't do enough to win affection and respect. I may be all wrong. Youwill soon find out. Ted is in clover, and the trip has done him aworld of good. Let me take him to Europe when we go? Apron-stringsdon't agree with him any better than they did with me when I proposedto run away to Washington with you some century ago. Aren't you sorryyou didn't?'
 
　　This private letter set Mrs Jo's lively fancy in a ferment, and sheimagined every known crime, affliction, and complication which couldpossibly have befallen Dan. He was too feeble to be worried withquestions now, but she promised herself most interesting revelationswhen she got him safe at home; for the 'firebrand' was her mostinteresting boy. She begged him to come, and spent more time incomposing a letter that should bring him, than she did over the mostthrilling episodes in her 'works'.
 
　　No one but Dan saw the letter; but it did bring him, and one Novemberday Mr Laurie helped a feeble man out of a carriage at the door ofPlumfield, and Mother Bhaer received the wanderer like a recoveredson; while Ted, in a disreputable-looking hat and an astonishing pairof boots, performed a sort of war-dance round the interesting group.
 
　　'Right upstairs and rest; I'm nurse now, and this ghost must eatbefore he talks to anyone,' commanded Mrs Jo, trying not to show howshocked she was at this shorn and shaven, gaunt and pallid shadow ofthe stalwart man she parted with.
 
　　He was quite content to obey, and lay on the long lounge in the roomprepared for him, looking about as tranquilly as a sick childrestored to its own nursery and mother's arms, while his new nursefed and refreshed him, bravely controlling the questions that burnedupon her tongue. Being weak and weary, he soon fell asleep; and thenshe stole away to enjoy the society of the 'rascals', whom shescolded and petted, pumped and praised, to her heart's content.
 
　　'Jo, I think Dan has committed some crime and suffered for it,' saidMr Laurie, when Ted had departed to show his boots and tell glowingtales of the dangers and delights of the miners' life to his mates.
 
　　'Some terrible experience has come to the lad, and broken his spirit.
 
　　He was quite out of his head when we arrived, and I took thewatching, so I heard more of those sad wanderings than anyone else.
 
　　He talked of the "warden", some trail, a dead man, and Blair andMason, and would keep offering me his hand, asking me if I would takeit and forgive him. Once, when he was very wild, I held his arms, andhe quieted in a moment, imploring me not to "put the handcuffs on". Ideclare, it was quite awful sometimes to hear him in the night talkof old Plum and you, and beg to be let out and go home to die.'
 
　　'He isn't going to die, but live to repent of anything he may havedone; so don't harrow me up with these dark hints, Teddy. I don'tcare if he's broken the Ten Commandments, I'll stand by him, and sowill you, and we'll set him on his feet and make a good man of himyet. I know he's not spoilt, by the look in his poor face. Don't saya word to anyone, and I'll have the truth before long,' answered MrsJo, still loyal to her bad boy, though much afflicted by what she hadheard.
 
　　For some days Dan rested, and saw few people; then good care,cheerful surroundings, and the comfort of being at home began totell, and he seemed more like himself, though still very silent as tohis late experiences, pleading the doctor's orders not to talk much.
 
　　Everyone wanted to see him; but he shrank from any but old friends,and 'wouldn't lionize worth a cent', Ted said, much disappointed thathe could not show off his brave Dan.
 
　　'Wasn't a man there who wouldn't have done the same, so why make arow over me?' asked the hero, feeling more ashamed than proud of thebroken arm, which looked so interesting in a sling.
 
　　'But isn't it pleasant to think that you saved twenty lives, Dan, andgave husbands, sons, and fathers back to the women who loved them?'
 
　　asked Mrs Jo one evening as they were alone together after severalcallers had been sent away.
 
　　'Pleasant! it's all that kept me alive, I do believe; yes, I'd ratherhave done it than be made president or any other big bug in theworld. No one knows what a comfort it is to think I've saved twentymen to more than pay for--' There Dan stopped short, having evidentlyspoken out of some strong emotion to which his hearer had no key.
 
　　'I thought you'd feel so. It is a splendid thing to save life at therisk of one's own, as you did, and nearly lose it,' began Mrs Jo,wishing he had gone on with that impulsive speech which was so likehis old manner.
 
　　'"He that loseth his life shall gain it",' muttered Dan, staring atthe cheerful fire which lighted the room, and shone on his thin facewith a ruddy glow.
 
　　Mrs Jo was so startled at hearing such words from his lips that sheexclaimed joyfully:
 
　　'Then you did read the little book I gave you, and kept yourpromise?'
 
　　'I read it a good deal after a while. I don't know much yet, but I'mready to learn; and that's something.'
 
　　'It's everything. Oh, my dear, tell me about it! I know somethinglies heavy on your heart; let me help you bear it, and so make theburden lighter.'
 
　　'I know it would; I want to tell; but some things even you couldn'tforgive; and if you let go of me, I'm afraid I can't keep afloat.'
 
　　'Mothers can forgive anything! Tell me all, and be sure that I willnever let you go, though the whole world should turn from you.'
 
　　Mrs Jo took one of the big wasted hands in both of hers and held itfast, waiting silently till that sustaining touch warmed poor Dan'sheart, and gave him courage to speak. Sitting in his old attitude,with his head in his hands, he slowly told it all, never once lookingup till the last words left his lips.
 
　　'Now you know; can you forgive a murderer, and keep a jail-bird inyour house?'
 
　　Her only answer was to put her arms about him, and lay the shorn headon her breast, with eyes so full of tears they could but dimly seethe hope and fear that made his own so tragical.
 
　　That was better than any words; and poor Dan clung to her inspeechless gratitude, feeling the blessedness of mother love--thatdivine gift which comforts, purifies, and strengthens all who seekit. Two or three great, bitter drops were hidden in the littlewoollen shawl where Dan's cheek rested, and no one ever knew how softand comfortable it felt to him after the hard pillows he had known solong. Suffering of both mind and body had broken will and pride, andthe lifted burden brought such a sense of relief that he paused amoment to enjoy it in dumb delight.
 
　　'My poor boy, how you have suffered all this year, when we thoughtyou free as air! Why didn't you tell us, Dan, and let us help you?
 
　　Did you doubt your friends?' asked Mrs Jo, forgetting all otheremotions in sympathy, as she lifted up the hidden face, and lookedreproachfully into the great hollow eyes that met her own franklynow.
 
　　'I was ashamed. I tried to bear it alone rather than shock anddisappoint you, as I know I have, though you try not to show it.
 
　　Don't mind; I must get used to it'; and Dan's eyes dropped again asif they could not bear to see the trouble and dismay his confessionpainted on his best friend's face.
 
　　'I am shocked and disappointed by the sin, but I am also very gladand proud and grateful that my sinner has repented, atoned, and isready to profit by the bitter lesson. No one but Fritz and Laurieneed ever know the truth; we owe it to them, and they will feel as Ido,' answered Mrs Jo, wisely thinking that entire frankness would bea better tonic than too much sympathy.
 
　　'No, they won't; men never forgive like women. But it's right.
 
　　Please tell 'em for me, and get it over. Mr Laurence knows it, Iguess. I blabbed when my wits were gone; but he was very kind all thesame. I can bear their knowing; but oh, not Ted and the girls!' Danclutched her arm with such an imploring face that she hastened toassure him no one should know except the two old friends, and hecalmed down as if ashamed of his sudden panic.
 
　　'It wasn't murder, mind you, it was in self-defence; he drew first,and I had to hit him. Didn't mean to kill him; but it doesn't worryme as much as it ought, I'm afraid. I've more than paid for it, andsuch a rascal is better out of the world than in it, showing boys theway to hell. Yes, I know you think that's awful in me; but I can'thelp it. I hate a scamp as I do a skulking coyote, and always want toget a shot at 'em. Perhaps it would have been better if he had killedme; my life is spoilt.'
 
　　All the old prison gloom seemed to settle like a black cloud on Dan'sface as he spoke, and Mrs Jo was frightened at the glimpse it gaveher of the fire through which he had passed to come out alive, butscarred for life. Hoping to turn his mind to happier things, she saidcheerfully:
 
　　'No, it isn't; you have learned to value it more and use it betterfor this trial. It is not a lost year, but one that may prove themost helpful of any you ever know. Try to think so, and begin again;we will help, and have all the more confidence in you for thisfailure. We all do the same and struggle on.'
 
　　'I never can be what I was. I feel about sixty, and don't care foranything now I've got here. Let me stay till I'm on my legs, thenI'll clear out and never trouble you any more,' said Dandespondently.
 
　　'You are weak and low in your mind; that will pass, and by and by youwill go to your missionary work among the Indians with all the oldenergy and the new patience, self-control, and knowledge you havegained. Tell me more about that good chaplain and Mary Mason and thelady whose chance word helped you so much. I want to know all aboutthe trials of my poor boy.'
 
　　Won by her tender interest, Dan brightened up and talked on till hehad poured out all the story of that bitter year, and felt better forthe load he lifted off.
 
　　If he had known how it weighed upon his hearer's heart, he would haveheld his peace; but she hid her sorrow till she had sent him to bed,comforted and calm; then she cried her heart out, to the great dismayof Fritz and Laurie, till they heard the tale and could mourn withher; after which they all cheered up and took counsel together howbest to help this worst of all the 'catastrophes' the year hadbrought them.
Chapter 21 Aslauga's Knight
 It was curious to see the change which came over Dan after that talk.
 
　　A weight seemed off his mind; and though the old impetuous spiritflashed out at times, he seemed intent on trying to show hisgratitude and love and honour to these true friends by a new humilityand confidence very sweet to them, very helpful to him. Afterhearing the story from Mrs Jo, the Professor and Mr Laurie made noallusion to it beyond the hearty hand-grasp, the look of compassion,the brief word of good cheer in which men convey sympathy, and aredoubled kindness which left no doubt of pardon. Mr Laurie began atonce to interest influential persons in Dan's mission, and set inmotion the machinery which needs so much oiling before anything canbe done where Government is concerned. Mr Bhaer, with the skill of atrue teacher, gave Dan's hungry mind something to do, and helped himunderstand himself by carrying on the good chaplain's task sopaternally that the poor fellow often said he felt as if he had founda father. The boys took him to drive, and amused him with theirpranks and plans; while the women, old and young, nursed and pettedhim till he felt like a sultan with a crowd of devoted slaves,obedient to his lightest wish. A very little of this was enough forDan, who had a masculine horror of 'molly-coddling', and so brief anacquaintance with illness that he rebelled against the doctor'sorders to keep quiet; and it took all Mrs Jo's authority and thegirls' ingenuity to keep him from leaving his sofa long beforestrained back and wounded head were well. Daisy cooked for him; Nanattended to his medicines; Josie read aloud to while away the longhours of inaction that hung so heavily on his hands; while Bessbrought all her pictures and casts to amuse him, and, at his specialdesire, set up a modelling-stand in his parlour and began to mouldthe buffalo head he gave her. Those afternoons seemed the pleasantestpart of his day; and Mrs Jo, busy in her study close by, could seethe friendly trio and enjoy the pretty pictures they made. The girlswere much flattered by the success of their efforts, and exertedthemselves to be very entertaining, consulting Dan's moods with thefeminine tact most women creatures learn before they are out ofpinafores. When he was gay, the room rang with laughter; when gloomy,they read or worked in respectful silence till their sweet patiencecheered him up again; and when in pain they hovered over him like 'acouple of angels', as he said. He often called Josie 'little mother',but Bess was always 'Princess'; and his manner to the two cousins wasquite different. Josie sometimes fretted him with her fussy ways, thelong plays she liked to read, and the maternal scoldings sheadministered when he broke the rules; for having a lord of creationin her power was so delightful to her that she would have ruled himwith a rod of iron if he had submitted. To Bess, in her gentlerministrations, he never showed either impatience or weariness, butobeyed her least word, exerted himself to seem well in her presence,and took such interest in her work that he lay looking at her withunwearied eyes; while Josie read to him in her best style unheeded.
 
　　Mrs Jo observed this, and called them 'Una and the Lion', whichsuited them very well, though the lion's mane was shorn, and Unanever tried to bridle him. The elder ladies did their part inproviding delicacies and supplying all his wants; but Mrs Meg wasbusy at home, Mrs Amy preparing for the trip to Europe in the spring,and Mrs Jo hovering on the brink of a 'vortex'--for the forthcomingbook had been sadly delayed by the late domestic events. As she satat her desk, settling papers or meditatively nibbling her pen whilewaiting for the divine afflatus to descend upon her, she often forgother fictitious heroes and heroines in studying the live models beforeher, and thus by chance looks, words, and gestures discovered alittle romance unsuspected by anyone else.
 
　　The portiere between the rooms was usually drawn aside, giving a viewof the group in the large bay-window--Bess at one side, in her greyblouse, busy with her tools; Josie at the other side with her book;and between, on the long couch, propped with many cushions, lay Danin a many-hued eastern dressing-gown presented by Mr Laurie and wornto please the girls, though the invalid much preferred an old jacket'with no confounded tail to bother over'. He faced Mrs Jo's room, butnever seemed to see her, for his eyes were on the slender figurebefore him, with the pale winter sunshine touching her golden head,and the delicate hands that shaped the clay so deftly. Josie was justvisible, rocking violently in a little chair at the head of thecouch, and the steady murmur of her girlish voice was usually theonly sound that broke the quiet of the room, unless a suddendiscussion arose about the book or the buffalo.
 
　　Something in the big eyes, bigger and blacker than ever in the thinwhite face, fixed, so steadily on one object, had a sort offascination for Mrs Jo after a time, and she watched the changes inthem curiously; for Dan's mind was evidently not on the story, and heoften forgot to laugh or exclaim at the comic or exciting crises.
 
　　Sometimes they were soft and wistful, and the watcher was very gladthat neither damsel caught that dangerous look for when they spoke itvanished; sometimes it was full of eager fire, and the colour cameand went rebelliously, in spite of his attempt to hide it with animpatient gesture of hand or head; but oftenest it was dark, and sad,and stern, as if those gloomy eyes looked out of captivity at someforbidden light or joy. This expression came so often that it worriedMrs Jo, and she longed to go and ask him what bitter memoryovershadowed those quiet hours. She knew that his crime and itspunishment must lie heavy on his mind; but youth, and time, and newhopes would bring comfort, and help to wear away the first sharpnessof the prison brand. It lifted at other times, and seemed almostforgotten when he joked with the boys, talked with old friends, orenjoyed the first snows as he drove out every fair day. Why shouldthe shadow always fall so darkly on him in the society of theseinnocent and friendly girls? They never seemed to see it, and ifeither looked or spoke, a quick smile came like a sunburst throughthe clouds to answer them. So Mrs Jo went on watching, wondering, anddiscovering, till accident confirmed her fears.
 
　　Josie was called away one day, and Bess, tired of working, offered totake her place if he cared for more reading.
 
　　'I do; your reading suits me better than Jo's. She goes so fast mystupid head gets in a muddle and soon begins to ache. Don't tell her;she's a dear little soul, and so good to sit here with a bear likeme.'
 
　　The smile was ready as Bess went to the table for a new book, thelast story being finished.
 
　　'You are not a bear, but very good and patient, we think. It isalways hard for a man to be shut up, mamma says, and must be terriblefor you, who have always been so free.'
 
　　If Bess had not been reading titles she would have seen Dan shrink asif her last words hurt him. He made no answer; but other eyes saw andunderstood why he looked as if he would have liked to spring up andrush away for one of his long races up the hill, as he used to dowhen the longing for liberty grew uncontrollable. Moved by a suddenimpulse, Mrs Jo caught up her work-basket and went to join herneighbours, feeling that a non-conductor might be needed; for Danlooked like a thundercloud full of electricity.
 
　　'What shall we read, Aunty? Dan doesn't seem to care. You know histaste; tell me something quiet and pleasant and short. Josie will beback soon,' said Bess, still turning over the books piled on thecentre-table.
 
　　Before Mrs Jo could answer, Dan pulled a shabby little volume fromunder his pillow, and handing it to her said: 'Please read the thirdone; it's short and pretty--I'm fond of it.' The book opened at theright place, as if the third story had been often read, and Besssmiled as she saw the name.
 
　　'Why, Dan, I shouldn't think you'd care for this romantic Germantale. There is fighting in it; but it is very sentimental, if Iremember rightly.'
 
　　'I know it; but I've read so few stories, I like the simple onesbest. Had nothing else to read sometimes; I guess I know it all byheart, and never seem to be tired of those fighting fellows, and thefiends and angels and lovely ladies. You read "Aslauga's Knight", andsee if you don't like it. Edwald was rather too soft for my fancy;but Froda was first-rate and the spirit with the golden hair alwaysreminded me of you.'
 
　　As Dan spoke Mrs Jo settled herself where she could watch him in theglass, and Bess took a large chair facing him, saying, as she put upher hands to retie the ribbon that held the cluster of thick, softcurls at the back of her head:
 
　　'I hope Aslauga's hair wasn't as troublesome as mine, for it's alwaystumbling down. I'll be ready in a minute.'
 
　　'Don't tie it up; please let it hang. I love to see it shine that way.
 
　　It will rest your head, and be just right for the story, Goldilocks,'
 
　　pleaded Dan, using the childish name and looking more like his boyishself than he had done for many a day.
 
　　Bess laughed, shook down her pretty hair, and began to read, glad tohide her face a little; for compliments made her shy, no matter whopaid them. Dan listened intently on; and Mrs Jo, with eyes that wentoften from her needle to the glass, could see, without turning, howhe enjoyed every word as if it had more meaning for him than for theother listeners. His face brightened wonderfully, and soon wore thelook that came when anything brave or beautiful inspired and touchedhis better self. It was Fouque's charming story of the knight Froda,and the fair daughter of Sigurd, who was a sort of spirit, appearingto her lover in hours of danger and trial, as well as triumph andjoy, till she became his guide and guard, inspiring him with courage,nobleness, and truth, leading him to great deeds in the field,sacrifices for those he loved, and victories over himself by thegleaming of her golden hair, which shone on him in battle, dreams,and perils by day and night, till after death he finds the lovelyspirit waiting to receive and to reward him.
 
　　Of all the stories in the book this was the last one would havesupposed Dan would like best, and even Mrs Jo was surprised at hisperceiving the moral of the tale through the delicate imagery andromantic language by which it was illustrated. But as she looked andlistened she remembered the streak of sentiment and refinement whichlay concealed in Dan like the gold vein in a rock, making him quickto feel and to enjoy fine colour in a flower, grace in an animal,sweetness in women, heroism in men, and all the tender ties that bindheart to heart; though he was slow to show it, having no words toexpress the tastes and instincts which he inherited from his mother.
 
　　Suffering of soul and body had tamed his stronger passions, and theatmosphere of love and pity now surrounding him purified and warmedhis heart till it began to hunger for the food neglected or denied solong. This was plainly written in his too expressive face, as,fancying it unseen, he let it tell the longing after beauty, peace,and happiness embodied for him in the innocent fair girl before him.
 
　　The conviction of this sad yet natural fact came to Mrs Jo with apang, for she felt how utterly hopeless such a longing was; sincelight and darkness were not farther apart than snow-white Bess andsin-stained Dan. No dream of such a thing disturbed the young girl,as her entire unconsciousness plainly showed. But how long would itbe before the eloquent eyes betrayed the truth? And then whatdisappointment for Dan, what dismay for Bess, who was as cool andhigh and pure as her own marbles, and shunned all thought of lovewith maidenly reserve.
 
　　'How hard everything is made for my poor boy! How can I spoil hislittle dream, and take away the spirit of good he is beginning tolove and long for? When my own dear lads are safely settled I'llnever try another, for these things are heart-breaking, and I can'tmanage any more,' thought Mrs Jo, as she put the lining into Teddy'scoat-sleeve upside down, so perplexed and grieved was she at this newcatastrophe.
 
　　The story was soon done, and as Bess shook back her hair, Dan askedas eagerly as a boy:
 
　　'Don't you like it?'
 
　　'Yes, it's very pretty, and I see the meaning of it; but Undine wasalways my favourite.'
 
　　'Of course, that's like you--lilies and pearls and souls and purewater. Sintram used to be mine; but I took a fancy to this when Iwas--ahem--rather down on my luck one time, and it did me good, itwas so cheerful and sort of spiritual in its meaning, you know.'
 
　　Bess opened her blue eyes in wonder at this fancy of Dan's foranything 'spiritual'; but she only nodded, saying: 'Some of thelittle songs are sweet and might be set to music.'
 
　　Dan laughed; 'I used to sing the last one to a tune of my ownsometimes at sunset:
 
　　'"Listening to celestial lays,Bending thy unclouded gazeOn the pure and living light,Thou art blest, Aslauga's Knight!"'And I was,' he added, under his breath, as he glanced towards thesunshine dancing on the wall.
 
　　'This one suits you better now'; and glad to please him by herinterest, Bess read in her soft voice:
 
　　'"Healfast, healfast, ye hero wounds;O knight, be quickly strong!
 
　　Beloved strifeFor fame and life,Oh, tarry not too long!"'
 
　　'I'm no hero, never can be, and "fame and life" can't do much for me.
 
　　Never mind, read me that paper, please. This knock on the head hasmade a regular fool of me.'
 
　　Dan's voice was gentle; but the light was gone out of his face now,and he moved restlessly as if the silken pillows were full of thorns.
 
　　Seeing that his mood had changed, Bess quietly put down the book,took up the paper, and glanced along the columns for something tosuit him.
 
　　'You don't care for the money market, I know, nor musical news.
 
　　Here's a murder; you used to like those; shall I read it? One mankills another--,'
 
　　'No!'
 
　　Only a word, but it gave Mrs Jo a thrill, and for a moment she darednot glance at the tell-tale mirror. When she did Dan lay motionlesswith one hand over his eyes, and Bess was happily reading the artnews to ears that never heard a word. Feeling like a thief who hasstolen something very precious, Mrs Jo slipped away to her study, andbefore long Bess followed to report that Dan was fast asleep.
 
　　Sending her home, with the firm resolve to keep her there as much aspossible, Mother Bhaer had an hour of serious thought all alone inthe red sunset; and when a sound in the next room led her there, shefound that the feigned sleep had become real repose; for Dan laybreathing heavily, with a scarlet spot on either cheek, and one handclinched on his broad breast. Yearning over him with a deeper pitythan ever before, she sat in the little chair beside him, trying tosee her way out of this tangle, till his hand slipped down, and indoing so snapped a cord he wore about his neck and let a small casedrop to the floor.
 
　　Mrs Jo picked it up, and as he did not wake, sat looking at it, idlywondering what charm it held; for the case was of Indian workmanshipand the broken cord, of closely woven grass, sweet scented and paleyellow.
 
　　'I won't pry into any more of the poor fellow's secrets. I'll mendand put it back, and never let him know I've seen his talisman.'
 
　　As she spoke she turned the little wallet to examine the fracture,and a card fell into her lap. It was a photograph, cut to fit itscovering, and two words were written underneath the face, 'MyAslauga'. For an instant Mrs Jo fancied that it might be one ofherself, for all the boys had them; but as the thin paper fell away,she saw the picture Demi took of Bess that happy summer day. Therewas no doubt now, and with a sigh she put it back, and was about toslip it into Dan's bosom so that not even a stitch should betray herknowledge, when as she leaned towards him, she saw that he waslooking straight at her with an expression that surprised her morethan any of the strange ones she had ever seen in that changeful facebefore.
 
　　'Your hand slipped down; it fell; I was putting it back,' explainedMrs Jo, feeling like a naughty child caught in mischief.
 
　　'You saw the picture?'
 
　　'Yes.'
 
　　'And know what a fool I am?'
 
　　'Yes, Dan, and am so grieved--'
 
　　'Don't worry about me. I'm all right--glad you know, though I nevermeant to tell you. Of course it is only a crazy fancy of mine, andnothing can ever come of it. Never thought there would. Good Lord!
 
　　what could that little angel ever be to me but what she is--a sort ofdream of all that's sweet and good?'
 
　　More afflicted by the quiet resignation of his look and tone than bythe most passionate ardour, Mrs Jo could only say, with a face fullof sympathy:
 
　　'It is very hard, dear, but there is no other way to look at it. Youare wise and brave enough to see that, and to let the secret be oursalone.'
 
　　'I swear I will! not a word nor a look if I can help it. No oneguesses, and if it troubles no one, is there any harm in my keepingthis, and taking comfort in the pretty fancy that kept me sane inthat cursed place?'
 
　　Dan's face was eager now, and he hid away the little worn case as ifdefying any hand to take it from him. Anxious to know everythingbefore giving counsel or comfort, Mrs Jo said quietly:
 
　　'Keep it, and tell me all about the "fancy". Since I have stumbled onyour secret, let me know how it came, and how I can help to make itlighter to bear.'
 
　　'You'll laugh; but I don't mind. You always did find out our secretsand give us a lift. Well, I never cared much for books, you know; butdown yonder when the devil tormented me I had to do something or gostark mad, so I read both the books you gave me. One was beyond me,till that good old man showed me how to read it; but the other, thisone, was a comfort, I tell you. It amused me, and was as pretty aspoetry. I liked 'em all, and most wore out Sintram. See how used uphe is! Then I came to this, and it sort of fitted that other happypart of my life, last summer--here.'
 
　　Dan stopped a moment as the words lingered on his lips; then, with along breath, went on, as if it was hard to lay bare the foolishlittle romance he had woven about a girl, a picture, and a child'sstory there in the darkness of the place which was as terrible to himas Dante's Inferno, till he found his Beatrice.
 
　　'I couldn't sleep, and had to think about something, so I used tofancy I was Folko, and see the shining of Aslauga's hair in thesunset on the wall, the gum of the watchman's lamp, and the lightthat came in at dawn. My cell was high. I could see a bit of sky;sometimes there was a star in it, and that was most as good as aface. I set great store by that patch of blue, and when a white cloudwent by, I thought it was the prettiest thing in all this world. Iguess I was pretty near a fool; but those thoughts and things helpedme through, so they are all solemn true to me, and I can't let themgo. The dear shiny head, the white gown, the eyes like stars, andsweet, calm ways that set her as high above me as the moon in heaven.
 
　　Don't take it away! it's only a fancy, but a man must love something,and I'd better love a spirit like her than any of the poor commongirls who would care for me.'
 
　　The quiet despair in Dan's voice pierced Mrs Jo to the heart; butthere was no hope and she gave none. Yet she felt that he was right,and that his hapless affection might do more to uplift and purify himthan any other he might know. Few women would care to marry Dan now,except such as would hinder, not help, him in the struggle which lifewould always be to him; and it was better to go solitary to his gravethan become what she suspected his father had been--a handsome,unprincipled, and dangerous man, with more than one broken heart toanswer for.
 
　　'Yes, Dan, it is wise to keep this innocent fancy, if it helps andcomforts you, till something more real and possible comes to make youhappier. I wish I could give you any hope; but we both know that thedear child is the apple of her father's eye, the pride of hermother's heart, and that the most perfect lover they can find willhardly seem to them worthy of their precious daughter. Let her remainfor you the high, bright star that leads you up and makes you believein heaven.' Mrs Jo broke down there; it seemed so cruel to destroythe faint hope Dan's eyes betrayed, that she could not moralize whenshe thought of his hard life and lonely future. Perhaps it was thewisest thing she could have done, for in her hearty sympathy he foundcomfort for his own loss, and very soon was able to speak again inthe manly tone of resignation to the inevitable that showed howhonest was his effort to give up everything but the pale shadow ofwhat, for another, might have been a happy possibility.
 
　　They talked long and earnestly in the twilight; and this secondsecret bound them closer than the first; for in it there was neithersin nor shame--only the tender pain and patience which has madesaints and heroes of far worse men than our poor Dan. When at lengththey rose at the summons of a bell, all the sunset glory haddeparted, and in the wintry sky there hung one star, large, soft, andclear, above a snowy world. Pausing at the window before she droppedthe curtains, Mrs Jo said cheerfully:
 
　　'Come and see how beautiful the evening star is, since you love itso.' And as he stood behind her, tall and pale, like the ghost of hisformer self, she added softly: 'And remember, dear, if the sweet girlis denied you, the old friend is always here--to love and trust andpray for you.'
 
　　This time she was not disappointed; and had she asked any reward formany anxieties and cares, she received it when Dan's strong arm cameround her, as he said, in a voice which showed her that she had notlaboured in vain to pluck her firebrand from the burning:
 
　　'I never can forget that; for she's helped to save my soul, and makeme dare to look up there and say:
 
　　"God bless her!"'
Chapter 22 Positively Last Appearance
 'Upon my word, I feel as if I lived in a powder-magazine, and don'tknow which barrel will explode next, and send me flying,' said Mrs Joto herself next day, as she trudged up to Parnassus to suggest to hersister that perhaps the most charming of the young nurses had betterreturn to her marble gods before she unconsciously added anotherwound to those already won by the human hero. She told no secrets;but a hint was sufficient; for Mrs Amy guarded her daughter as apearl of great price, and at once devised a very simple means ofescape from danger. Mr Laurie was going to Washington on Dan'sbehalf, and was delighted to take his family with him when the ideawas carelessly suggested. So the conspiracy succeeded finely; andMrs Jo went home, feeling more like a traitor than ever. She expectedan explosion; but Dan took the news so quietly, it was plain that hecherished no hope; and Mrs Amy was sure her romantic sister had beenmistaken. If she had seen Dan's face when Bess went to say good-bye,her maternal eye would have discovered far more than the unconsciousgirl did. Mrs Jo trembled lest he should betray himself; but he hadlearned self-control in a stern school, and would have got throughthe hard moment bravely, only, when he took both hands, sayingheartily:
 
　　'Good-bye, Princess. If we don't meet again, remember your old friendDan sometimes,' she, touched by his late danger and the wistful lookhe wore, answered with unusual warmth: 'How can I help it, when youmake us all so proud of you? God bless your mission, and bring yousafely home to us again!'
 
　　As she looked up at him with a face full of frank affection and sweetregret, all that he was losing rose so vividly before him that Dancould not resist the impulse to take the 'dear goldy head' betweenhis hands and kiss it, with a broken 'Good-bye'; then hurried back tohis room, feeling as if it were the prison-cell again, with noglimpse of heaven's blue to comfort him.
 
　　This abrupt caress and departure rather startled Bess; for she feltwith a girl's quick instinct that there was something in that kissunknown before, and looked after him with sudden colour in her cheeksand new trouble in her eyes. Mrs Jo saw it, and fearing a verynatural question answered it before it was put.
 
　　'Forgive him, Bess. He has had a great trouble, and it makes himtender at parting with old friends; for you know he may never comeback from the wild world he is going to.'
 
　　'You mean the fall and danger of death?' asked Bess, innocently.
 
　　'No, dear; a greater trouble than that. But I cannot tell you anymore--except that he has come through it bravely; so you may trustand respect him, as I do.'
 
　　'He has lost someone he loved. Poor Dan! We must be very kind tohim.'
 
　　Bess did not ask the question, but seemed content with her solutionof the mystery--which was so true that Mrs Jo confirmed it by a nod,and let her go away believing that some tender loss and sorrowwrought the great change all saw in Dan, and made him so slow tospeak concerning the past year.
 
　　But Ted was less easily satisfied, and this unusual reticence goadedhim to desperation. His mother had warned him not to trouble Dan withquestions till he was quite well; but this prospect of approachingdeparture made him resolve to have a full, clear, and satisfactoryaccount of the adventures which he felt sure must have beenthrilling, from stray words Dan let fall in his fever. So one daywhen the coast was clear, Master Ted volunteered to amuse theinvalid, and did so in the following manner:
 
　　'Look here, old boy, if you don't want me to read, you've got totalk, and tell me all about Kansas, and the farms, and that part. TheMontana business I know, but you seem to forget what went before.
 
　　Brace up, and let's have it,' he began, with an abruptness whichroused Dan from a brown study most effectually.
 
　　'No, I don't forget; it isn't interesting to anyone but myself. Ididn't see any farms--gave it up,' he said slowly.
 
　　'Why?'
 
　　'Other things to do.'
 
　　'What?'
 
　　'Well, brush-making for one thing.'
 
　　'Don't chaff a fellow. Tell true.'
 
　　'I truly did.'
 
　　'What for?'
 
　　'To keep out of mischief, as much as anything.'
 
　　'Well, of all the queer things--and you've done a lot--that's thequeerest,' cried Ted, taken aback at this disappointing discovery.
 
　　But he didn't mean to give up yet, and began again.
 
　　'What mischief, Dan?'
 
　　'Never you mind. Boys shouldn't bother.'
 
　　'But I do want to know, awfully, because I'm your pal, and care foryou no end. Always did. Come, now, tell me a good yarn. I lovescrapes. I'll be mum as an oyster if you don't want it known.'
 
　　'Will you?' and Dan looked at him, wondering how the boyish facewould change if the truth were suddenly told him.
 
　　'I'll swear it on locked fists, if you like. I know it was jolly, andI'm aching to hear.'
 
　　'You are as curious as a girl. More than some--Josie and--and Bessnever asked a question.'
 
　　'They don't care about rows and things; they liked the mine business,heroes, and that sort. So do I, and I'm as proud as Punch over it;but I see by your eyes that there was something else before that, andI'm bound to find out who Blair and Mason are, and who was hit andwho ran away, and all the rest of it.'
 
　　'What!' cried Dan, in a tone that made Ted jump.
 
　　'Well, you used to mutter about 'em in your sleep, and Uncle Lauriewondered. So did I; but don't mind, if you can't remember, or wouldrather not.'
 
　　'What else did I say? Queer, what stuff a man will talk when his witsare gone.'
 
　　'That's all I heard; but it seemed interesting, and I just mentionedit, thinking it might refresh your memory a bit,' said Teddy, verypolitely; for Dan's frown was heavy at that moment.
 
　　It cleared off at this reply, and after a look at the boy squirmingwith suppressed impatience in his chair, Dan made up his mind toamuse him with a game of cross-purposes and half-truths, hoping toquench his curiosity, and so get peace.
 
　　'Let me see; Blair was a lad I met in the cars, and Mason a poorfellow who was in a--well, a sort of hospital where I happened to be.
 
　　Blair ran off to his brothers, and I suppose I might say Mason washit, because he died there. Does that suit you?'
 
　　'No, it doesn't. Why did Blair run? and who hit the other fellow?
 
　　I'm sure there was a fight somewhere, wasn't there?'
 
　　'Yes!
 
　　'I guess I know what it was about.'
 
　　'The devil, you do! Let's hear you guess. Must be amusing,' said Dan,affecting an ease he did not feel.
 
　　Charmed to be allowed to free his mind, Ted at once unfolded theboyish solution of the mystery which he had been cherishing, for hefelt that there was one somewhere.
 
　　'You needn't say yes, if I guess right and you are under oath to keepsilent. I shall know by your face, and never tell. Now see if I'm notright. Out there they have wild doings, and it's my belief you werein some of 'em. I don't mean robbing mails, and KluKluxing, and thatsort of thing; but defending the settlers, or hanging some scamp, oreven shooting a few, as a fellow must sometimes, in self-defence.
 
　　Ah, ha! I've hit it, I see. Needn't speak; I know the flash of yourold eye, and the clench of your big fist.' And Ted pranced withsatisfaction.
 
　　'Drive on, smart boy, and don't lose the trail,' said Dan, finding acurious sense of comfort in some of these random words, and longing,but not daring, to confirm the true ones. He might have confessed thecrime, but not the punishment that followed, the sense of itsdisgrace was still so strong upon him.
 
　　'I knew I should get it; can't deceive me long,' began Ted, with suchan air of pride Dan could not help a short laugh.
 
　　'It's a relief, isn't it, to have it off your mind? Now, just confidein me and it's all safe, unless you've sworn not to tell.'
 
　　'I have.'
 
　　'Oh, well, then don't'; and Ted's face fell, but he was himself againin a moment and said, with the air of a man of the world: 'It's allright--I understand--honour binds--silence to death, etc. Glad youstood by your mate in the hospital. How many did you kill?'
 
　　'Only one.'
 
　　'Bad lot, of course?'
 
　　'A damned rascal.'
 
　　'Well, don't look so fierce; I've no objection. Wouldn't mind poppingat some of those bloodthirsty blackguards myself. Had to dodge andkeep quiet after it, I suppose.'
 
　　'Pretty quiet for a long spell.'
 
　　'Got off all right in the end, and headed for your mines and did thatjolly brave thing. Now, I call that decidedly interesting andcapital. I'm glad to know it; but I won't blab.'
 
　　'Mind you don't. Look here. Ted, if you'd killed a man, would ittrouble you--a bad one, I mean?'
 
　　The lad opened his mouth to say, 'Not a bit,' but checked that answeras if something in Dan's face made him change his mind. 'Well, if itwas my duty in war or self-defence, I suppose I shouldn't; but if I'dpitched into him in a rage, I guess I should be very sorry. Shouldn'twonder if he sort of haunted me, and remorse gnawed me as it did Aramand those fellows. You don't mind, do you? It was a fair fight,wasn't it?'
 
　　'Yes, I was in the right; but I wish I'd been out of it. Women don'tsee it that way, and look horrified at such things. Makes it hard;but it don't matter.'
 
　　'Don't tell 'em; then they can't worry,' said Ted, with the nod ofone versed in the management of the sex.
 
　　'Don't intend to. Mind you keep your notions to yourself, for some of'em are wide of the mark. Now you may read if you like'; and therethe talk ended; but Ted took great comfort in it, and looked as wiseas an owl afterwards.
 
　　A few quiet weeks followed, during which Dan chafed at the delay; andwhen at length word came that his credentials were ready, he waseager to be off, to forget a vain love in hard work, and live forothers, since he might not for himself.
 
　　So one wild March morning our Sintram rode away, with horse andhound, to face again the enemies who would have conquered him, butfor Heaven's help and human pity.
 
　　'Ah, me! it does seem as if life was made of partings, and they getharder as we go on,' sighed Mrs Jo, a week later, as she sat in thelong parlour at Parnassus one evening, whither the family had gone towelcome the travellers back.
 
　　'And meetings too, dear; for here we are, and Nat is on his way atlast. Look for the silver lining, as Marmee used to say, and becomforted,' answered Mrs Amy, glad to be at home and find no wolvesprowling near her sheepfold.
 
　　'I've been so worried lately, I can't help croaking. I wonder whatDan thought at not seeing you again? It was wise; but he would haveenjoyed another look at home faces before he went into thewilderness,' said Mrs Jo regretfully.
 
　　'Much better so. We left notes and all we could think of that hemight need, and slipped away before he came. Bess really seemedrelieved; I'm sure I was'; and Mrs Amy smoothed an anxious line outof her white forehead, as she smiled at her daughter, laughinghappily among her cousins.
 
　　Mrs Jo shook her head as if the silver lining of that cloud was hardto find; but she had no time to croak again, for just then Mr Lauriecame in looking well pleased at something.
 
　　'A new picture has arrived; face towards the music-room, good people,and tell me how you like it. I call it "Only a fiddler", afterAndersen's story. What name will you give it?'
 
　　As he spoke he threw open the wide doors, and just beyond they saw ayoung man standing, with a beaming face, and a violin in his hand.
 
　　There was no doubt about the name to this picture, and with the cry'Nat! Nat!' there was a general uprising. But Daisy reached himfirst, and seemed to have lost her usual composure somewhere on theway, for she clung to him, sobbing with the shock of a surprise andjoy too great for her to bear quietly. Everything was settled by thattearful and tender embrace, for, though Mrs Meg speedily detached herdaughter, it was only to take her place; while Demi shook Nat's handwith brotherly warmth, and Josie danced round them like Macbeth'sthree witches in one, chanting in her most tragic tones:
 
　　'Chirper thou wast; second violin thou art; first thou shalt be.
 
　　Hail, all hail!'
 
　　This caused a laugh, and made things gay and comfortable at once.
 
　　Then the usual fire of questions and answers began, to be kept upbriskly while the boys admired Nat's blond beard and foreign clothes,the girls his improved appearance--for he was ruddy with good Englishbeef and beer, and fresh with the sea-breezes which had blown himswiftly home--and the older folk rejoiced over his prospects. Ofcourse all wanted to hear him play; and when tongues tired, he gladlydid his best for them, surprising the most critical by his progressin music even more than by the energy and self-possession which madea new man of bashful Nat. By and by when the violin--that most humanof all instruments--had sung to them the loveliest songs withoutwords, he said, looking about him at these old friends with what MrBhaer called a 'feeling-full' expression of happiness and content:
 
　　'Now let me play something that you will all remember though youwon't love it as I do'; and standing in the attitude which Ole Bullhas immortalized, he played the street melody he gave them the firstnight he came to Plumfield. They remembered it, and joined in theplaintive chorus, which fitly expressed his own emotions:
 
　　'Oh my heart is sad and wearyEverywhere I roam,Longing for the old plantationAnd for the old folks at home.'
 
　　'Now I feel better,' said Mrs Jo, as they all trooped down the hillsoon after. 'Some of our boys are failures, but I think this one isgoing to be a success, and patient Daisy a happy girl at last. Nat isyour work, Fritz, and I congratulate you heartily.'
 
　　'Ach, we can but sow the seed and trust that it falls on good ground.
 
　　I planted, perhaps, but you watched that the fowls of the air did notdevour it, and brother Laurie watered generously; so we will sharethe harvest among us, and be glad even for a small one,heart's-dearest.'
 
　　'I thought the seed had fallen on very stony ground with my poor Dan;but I shall not be surprised if he surpasses all the rest in the realsuccess of life, since there is more rejoicing over one repentantsinner than many saints,' answered Mrs Jo, still clinging fast to herblack sheep although a whole flock of white ones trotted happilybefore her.
 
　　It is a strong temptation to the weary historian to close the presenttale with an earthquake which should engulf Plumfield and itsenvirons so deeply in the bowels of the earth that no youthfulSchliemann could ever find a vestige of it. But as that somewhatmelodramatic conclusion might shock my gentle readers, I willrefrain, and forestall the usual question, 'How did they end?' bybriefly stating that all the marriages turned out well. The boysprospered in their various callings; so did the girls, for Bess andJosie won honours in their artistic careers, and in the course oftime found worthy mates. Nan remained a busy, cheerful, independentspinster, and dedicated her life to her suffering sisters and theirchildren, in which true woman's work she found abiding happiness. Dannever married, but lived, bravely and usefully, among his chosenpeople till he was shot defending them, and at last lay quietlyasleep in the green wilderness he loved so well, with a lock ofgolden hair upon his breast, and a smile on his face which seemed tosay that Aslauga's Knight had fought his last fight and was at peace.
 
　　Stuffy became an alderman, and died suddenly of apoplexy after apublic dinner. Dolly was a society man of mark till he lost hismoney, when he found congenial employment in a fashionable tailoringestablishment. Demi became a partner, and lived to see his name abovethe door, and Rob was a professor at Laurence College; but Teddyeclipsed them all by becoming an eloquent and famous clergyman, tothe great delight of his astonished mother. And now, havingendeavoured to suit everyone by many weddings, few deaths, and asmuch prosperity as the eternal fitness of things will permit, let themusic stop, the lights die out, and the curtain fall for ever on theMarch family.
 
The End