第四章　负担

“唉，天哪，又得背上包袱往前走，真难哪！”舞会后第二天早上，美格叹息道。假期已经结束，尽情享受了一个礼拜，又要做不喜欢做的工作，不容易适应。

“希望天天都是圣诞节或元旦，那样是不是会很来劲？”乔说着沮丧地打了个哈欠。

“我们能像现在这样享福，应该知足了。可要是能吃夜宵、买鲜花、参加舞会、乘马车回家、看看书、休息休息，又不用工作，那真是太好了。要知道，有些人过的就是这种生活，我常常羡慕那些姑娘，她们的日子可舒坦着呢。我真的喜欢享受。”美格说。她正在设法辨别两件破旧的衣服中哪件尚可一穿。

“哎，这种生活我们是过不上啰。那就不要再抱怨了，我们要像妈咪那样，乐观地背起包袱，继续向前。我知道，姑婆是个十足的累赘，‘海之老人’[1]，但如果能学会容忍她，不抱怨，这个负担就会自动卸掉，或者轻松起来，这差事也就变得不在话下了。”

乔觉得这个主意挺好玩的，心情豁然开朗。但美格却一点都开心不起来，她要照看四个娇生惯养的孩子，担子显得比以前任何时候都要重。平常她会围上一条蓝丝巾，然后把头发梳得美丽动人。可现在，她连梳妆打扮的心思都没有了。

“漂亮有什么用？除了那些调皮的小鬼，没人会看我，也没人会关心我是不是漂亮。”她咕哝着，猛地关上抽屉，“我得没日没夜地辛苦，偶尔才有一点点开心。我变得又老又丑，变得尖酸刻薄，就是因为我穷，不能和平常姑娘一样享受生活。真遗憾！”

美格下楼去了，一脸很受伤的样子，吃早餐时脾气不好。大家似乎都很懊恼，喜欢无病呻吟。贝丝头痛，便躺在沙发上，跟猫儿和三只小猫相互安慰。艾美功课学不会，气急败坏的，橡皮也找不到了。乔不停地吹口哨，准备工作闹出很多动静。马奇太太忙着给一封信收尾，必须马上寄出去的。汉娜脾气不好，她不适应熬夜的。

“一家人如此怒气冲冲，这是前所未有的！”乔大声说。她撞翻了墨水台，两根鞋带都拉断了，还坐到了帽子上，便发了脾气。

“怒气冲冲，你最厉害！”艾美回嘴道。她借着掉在石板上的眼泪刷去算错的题目。

“贝丝，假如你不把这些凶猫关到地下室里去的话，我就把它们统统淹死。”美格恶狠狠地恐吓着。一只小猫儿爬到她背脊上，就像树瘤一样粘在上面，却够不到。她拼命要甩掉它。

乔笑了，美格骂骂咧咧的，贝丝恳求开恩，艾美哀叫着，因为她不记得九乘以十二等于几。

“姑娘们，姑娘们，快静一下！我必须赶早班邮车把这个寄出去的。你们的烦恼使我分心啊。”马奇太太大声说。她已经在信中划掉第三个写错的句子了。

暂时静下来了，这平静却被汉娜打破了。她冲进来，把两个热酥饼放到桌上后，又走了出去。做酥饼成了定式，姑娘们称之为“火笼”。早晨寒冷，她们没有真正的火笼，却发现热酥饼完全可以焐手。汉娜不管家务多么忙碌，自己有多么委屈，一天不落地做酥饼，因为路途漫长，走路时又冷森森的。可怜的姑娘们没有专门备午餐，而且很少有两点以前回家的。

“抱好你的猫儿，头痛快点好，贝丝。再见，妈咪。今天早上，我们成了一窝坏蛋，但回家的时候会成为正宗天使的。走吧，美格！”乔上路了，觉得朝圣者没有按照要求出发。

拐弯前，她们总是回头看看，母亲总会靠在窗口点头微笑，朝她俩挥手。她们似乎觉得，不这样做，一天就无法踏实。不管心情如何，最后看一眼慈母的脸庞，她们肯定会如沐春风。

“假如妈咪对我们挥拳头，而不是飞吻，那也是自作自受。世上再没有比我们更加忘恩负义的浑蛋了。”乔大声说。她在雪地里跋涉，寒风凛冽，却感到了赎罪的欣慰。

“不要使用这么可怕的说法嘛。”美格从面纱深处搭话。她活像厌世的修女，把脑袋裹得严严实实的。

“我喜欢意味深长的强烈的良性措辞。”乔答道。帽子被风吹起，差一点从脑袋上飞走，她赶紧抓住。

“随便你怎么骂自己，我可不是坏蛋，也不是浑蛋。我不愿意这样挨骂。”

“你是个落魄鬼，今天的脾气绝对差，因为不能一直养尊处优。可怜乖乖，就等我发财吧，保证你日子好过，有马车坐，有冰淇淋吃，有高跟鞋穿，有花束装饰，舞会时尽遇到赤发小伙子。”

“乔，你真是滑稽可笑！”美格对这无稽之谈一笑置之，心里却不由自主地好过了起来。

“我滑稽是你的福气呢。要是我跟你一样垂头丧气，只顾消沉下去，就有我们好看的啦。谢天谢地，我总是能找乐子振作自己。不要再抱怨了，回家时要兴高采烈。听话啊。”

两人分手时，乔鼓劲地拍拍姐姐的肩膀。她们上了不同的道路，各自用热酥饼焐着手，尽可能开心一点，尽管天气奇寒，工作辛苦，年轻人的享乐欲望却无法满足。

马奇先生为了帮助一位倒霉朋友而葬送了家产，当时，两个大女儿请求做点什么，至少她们可以自食其力。考虑到要尽早培养她们的干劲、勤劳和独立精神，父母答应了。于是，两人满怀热情地投入了工作。尽管障碍重重，但有志者事竟成。玛格丽特找了一份幼儿家教的工作，工资微薄，她却感到十分富足。正如她所说，她喜欢享受，而她的主要问题是贫穷。她比妹妹们更难忍受贫穷，因为她还记得过去，那时家里漂亮，无所不有，生活无忧无虑，充满欢乐。她努力做到不羡慕别人，对生活知足，可毕竟年轻姑娘爱美，渴望交乐天的朋友，祈求学习才艺，过上幸福生活，这些都是她们的天性。由于她为之工作的金家孩子们的姐姐都刚刚到能参加社交活动的年龄，她天天都看到自己想要的一切。美格经常能瞥见做工考究的舞会礼服和鲜花，能听到有关戏剧、音乐会和雪橇比赛、各种娱乐活动的热烈讨论，看到钱都浪费在一些琐事上，可对她来说这些钱是多么宝贵。美格安贫乐道，可有时心中不平，难免愤世嫉俗。她还不知道，自己其实多么富有，拥有很多祝福，而唯有这才能带来幸福生活。

马奇姑婆脚有点瘸，需要一个手脚勤快的人来服侍，乔碰巧合了她的心意。家里破产时，这位膝下无子的老太太想要过继其中的一位姑娘。要求遭到了拒绝，她极为恼火。朋友们告诉马奇夫妇，他们本来可以被列入阔老太太的遗嘱，但机会已经失之交臂。可是，漠视钱财的马奇夫妇只是说：

“就是给金山银山，我们也不会抛弃自家女儿。不管有没有钱，我们死活都要在一起，共享天伦之乐。”

有一段时间，老太太都不愿理他们，但她在朋友家碰到了乔。乔滑稽的脸庞和率直的举止打动了老太太的心，因此她提出要花钱雇乔跟她做个伴。乔心里根本不乐意，由于没有更好的差事，便应下了这份差事。令人称奇的是，乔与这位性情暴躁的亲戚相处得特别好。偶尔也会遇到暴风骤雨，乔一次还扬长而去回了家，并宣布再也忍受不下去了。但姑婆很快就收拾残局，急忙派人把她请回去，使她不好意思拒绝，因为她在心底里还是挺喜欢这位火性子的老太太。

我想，真正吸引她的，还是那一大屋子好书。自从马奇姑祖父去世以后，那里积满了灰尘和蜘蛛网。乔还记得和蔼可亲的老先生，他以前让乔用他的大字典搭铁路和桥梁，给她讲拉丁文书籍中古怪插图的故事，每次在街上碰见乔，还要为她买几块姜饼。房间里光线暗淡，积满了灰尘，高高的书架上，几尊半身像俯视着下面，那里还有几张舒适的椅子和几个地球仪。最妙的要数五花八门的书，乔可以随意翻阅，把藏书室当成她的乐园。姑婆打盹或忙着和别人闲聊时，乔就赶忙来到这个清静之地，蜷曲在安乐椅上，贪婪地阅读诗歌、小说、历史、游记和画册，宛如十足的蛀书虫。但是，快乐事往往不能长久。每当她看到故事的精彩之处，读到最优美的诗行，或者旅行家最危险的冒险经历时，总有一个声音尖叫：“约瑟——芬！约瑟——芬！”这时她便不得不离开她的天堂，出去绕纱线，给狮子狗洗澡，或者朗读贝尔沙的《散文集》，一忙就是几个钟头。

乔的志向是创一番伟大的事业。到底是什么事业心中还没数，只等着时光来告诉她。同时，她发现自己最大的苦恼是不能尽兴读书，不能跑步骑马。脾气暴躁、说话尖刻、坐立不安常使她陷入困境，也注定了她的生活充满酸甜苦辣，悲喜交加。但她在姑婆家的锻炼很有必要，虽然老太太没完没了地叫“约瑟——芬”，一想到自己做事能维持生计，乔就开心起来。

贝丝由于太害羞没去上学。她也曾试着上过学，但受不了那种痛苦，于是就辍学，在家里跟爸爸学习。后来，爸爸走了，妈妈也响应号召为“战士援助社”出力干活，即使在这种时候，贝丝仍然始终如一，尽最大努力坚持自学。她这个小姑娘颇像一位家庭主妇，帮汉娜把家里操持得井井有条，使出门挣钱的人过得舒舒服服。她从来不图回报，只想着有爱就满足了。她度过了漫长而默默无闻的日子，却从不感到孤独和无聊，因为在她的小世界里，到处是幻想中的朋友，而且她天生就是劳碌命。贝丝还是个孩子，仍然非常喜欢宠物，每天早上她都要抱上六个布娃娃，替它们穿衣服。布娃娃没有一个四肢完整，也没有一个漂亮的，在贝丝收留它们之前，都是弃儿。姐姐们长大了不再喜欢这些玩具，而这些又旧又丑的东西艾美是不会要的，于是就传给了她。正因为如此，贝丝格外珍惜这些娃娃，还为几个病宝宝设立了医院。她一丝不苟地给它们喂饭、穿衣、爱抚，从不用针去刺它们棉花身体的要害，从不打骂，即使对最讨厌的玩具也不冷落欺凌，始终一视同仁。

一个被遗弃的“宝贝”，破破烂烂，四肢不全，以前是乔的，过的是狂风暴雨般的生活，最后被遗弃在一个杂物袋子里，贝丝把它从这个沉闷的穷酸袋中拯救出来，放在她的避难所里。头顶不见了，她就扎上一顶漂亮的小帽子；四肢也没了，她就用毯子把它包起来，掩盖了这些缺陷；并给这位长期卧床的病人安排了一张最好的床。如果有人知道贝丝是如何细心照料这个娃娃的，想必他们即使哈哈大笑，也肯定会被她的真情所打动。她给它送鲜花；她为它朗读书报，裹在大衣里带出去透新鲜空气；她为它唱摇篮曲，每次上床总要先吻一下那脏兮兮的脸，并柔声细语：“祝你晚安，可怜的宝贝。”

贝丝和姐妹们一样，也有自己的烦恼。毕竟她不是天使，只是一个人间的小姑娘。正如乔所说，她经常掉眼泪，因为上不了音乐课，也没有一架像样的钢琴。她酷爱音乐，用功学习，耐心地在那架叮当作响的旧钢琴上练习，似乎应该有人（不是指姑婆）帮帮她的。可是没人帮她，贝丝独自练琴时，面对五音不全的钢琴潸然泪下，却没人看见她把眼泪从发黄的琴键上悄悄擦去。她像一只小云雀，歌唱着自己的工作，为妈妈和姐妹们演唱时也从不觉得累。每天她总是满怀希望地对自己说：“我知道，只要我乖，总有一天会学好音乐的。”

世界上有很多个贝丝，腼腆文静，待在角落里，直到需要时才挺身而出。她们开心地为别人活着，没人留意她们所做出的牺牲。最后，炉边小蟋蟀停止了鸣叫，阳光般温暖的脸庞消逝，只留下了寂静和阴影。

如果有人问艾美，生活中最大的磨难是什么，她马上会回答：“我的鼻子。”当她还是婴儿时，乔一次意外失手把她摔落在煤斗里。艾美坚持认为，这一摔永远毁掉了她的鼻子。鼻子不大也不红，不像可怜的“彼得利亚”[2]的鼻子；只是有点扁，无论怎样捏也捏不出个贵族式的鼻尖。除了她自己谁都不在乎这个，鼻子在拼命地长，但是艾美非常希望她的鼻子能挺直一点，于是便画了整张整张的漂亮鼻子聊以自慰。

“小拉斐尔[3]”——姐姐们都这样叫她，她无疑具有画画的天赋。她最大的幸福莫过于描摹花朵，设计仙女，用古怪的艺术形象为小说画插图。老师们抱怨说，她的写字石板不是用来做加法的，而是画满了动物，地图册空白的页面上也临摹满了地图。她所有的书本，一不小心就会掉出一组组滑稽的漫画。她尽量在各门功课上取得好的成绩，作为品德模范，屡屡躲过惩罚。她脾气好，能轻易取悦别人，深受同学喜爱。她的举止、风度备受仰慕，而且多才多艺，有绘画特长，还能弹十二个曲子，能用钩针编织，读法语读错的词不超过三分之二。她常常悲伤地说：“爸爸有钱的时候，我们是如何如何。”真是很动人。她说话时喜欢用长单词，被女同学们认为是“优雅无比”。

艾美差不多被大伙儿宠坏了，都把她当成宝贝，她的虚荣和自私也在迅速膨胀。然而，有一件事却打击了她的虚荣心。她只能穿表姐穿过的旧衣服。表姐弗洛伦斯的妈妈没有一点品味，艾美喜欢戴蓝帽子，却只有红帽子，衣服和围裙也难看花哨不合身，真是痛苦。其实，她穿的每一件衣服都不错，做工考究，几乎看不出是穿过的，但艾美颇具艺术性的眼光却不能忍受它们，特别是今年冬天，她上学穿的衣服是暗紫色的，上面尽是黄点，又没有花边装饰。

“我唯一的安慰是，”她眼里噙着泪水对美格说，“不听话的时候，妈妈没有像玛丽亚·帕克的妈妈那样，把我的裙子折起来。哎，那可真是糟糕透顶。有时她太调皮了，连衣裙被卷到了膝盖上，连学校都不能去了。每当我想到这种痴（耻）辱，就觉得扁鼻子和上面印有黄色焰火的紫衣算不了什么了。”

美格是艾美的知心朋友，也是她的监督人。也许是性格上异性相吸的缘故，乔和乖巧的贝丝配对。害羞的小女孩只跟乔倾诉心事，对她这位高大、冒失的姐姐，不知不觉，贝丝的影响比家中任何人都要大。两位大姐姐之间十分要好，每人又都照料着一个妹妹，并以各自的方式照管着她们。她们称之为“长姐为母”。她们用妹妹代替丢弃的娃娃，如同小妇人一般，充满母爱，对妹妹呵护有加。

“有人说故事吗？今天太无聊了，迫切需要来一点娱乐。”美格说。那天晚上，姐妹们坐在一起做缝纫。

“今天，我跟姑婆度过的时光十分古怪。我占了上风，就跟你们说说吧。”乔开口了。她可喜欢讲故事了。“我在朗读那本永远读不完的贝尔沙散文，跟平常一样越读越含混，反正姑婆很快就打瞌睡了。然后，我可以取出好书拼命看，直到她醒过来。今天我自己也搞得昏昏欲睡了，她还没有倒头睡去，我却打了个大哈欠，所以她问我，嘴巴张得老大，可以吞下整本书了，这是什么意思嘛？

“‘但愿能够吞下去，一劳永逸，岂不更好。’我尽量和颜悦色地回道。

“这下，她不厌其烦地数落起我的罪孽，并且命令我坐着反省，而她只是稍许‘眯瞪’一下。她从来都不会很快醒来的，所以她的帽子一开始像头重脚轻的大丽花一样摇曳，我就从口袋里抽出《威克菲尔德的牧师》，大肆阅读，一只眼看书，一只眼盯着姑婆。刚刚看到他们统统滚进水里，我就忘乎所以，大声笑了出来。姑婆惊醒，打盹以后，脾气也好了。她命令我朗读几段来听听，看看我喜欢什么样的轻薄作品，居然胜过了教益良深的贝尔沙宝书。我全力以赴，她很喜欢听的，但嘴里只是说：

“‘听不懂，到底讲什么内容啊。倒回去，从头开始，孩子。’

“我就倒回去了，竭尽全力把精华部分读得有声有色。有一次，我使坏，在引人入胜的地方故意停下，还温顺地说：‘恐怕让你厌烦了，夫人。可以停下吗？’

“她捡起听得出神时掉下的编织活，透过眼镜瞪了我一下，以常有的简短语气说：

“‘要读完那一章呐，小姐，不要莽撞。'”

“她承认喜欢它了吗？”美格问。

“哎哟哟，不肯的啊！可是她让老贝尔沙歇菜了。我下午跑回去取手套，发现她坐在那里拼命读那本《牧师》，根本没有听到我的笑声。当时我发现好日子就要来了，就在过道里跳起了轻快的快步舞。只要她回心转意，可以享受多么愉快的生活啊！尽管她钱多，我根本不怎么嫉妒她的。我认为，财主的忧愁跟穷人比，毕竟是只多不少的。”乔补充说。

“这下我记起来了，”美格说，“我也有故事要说的。不像乔的故事那么有趣，但我回家的时候好好回味了一下的。今天，我发现金家上下统统慌里慌张的。一个孩子说，大哥做出了可怕的事情，爸爸把他撵出去了。只听金太太在哭泣，金先生的嗓门很大，格雷斯和艾伦碰到我都别过脸去，免得让我看见哭得红肿的眼睛。我当然没有去打听原委，但替他们家难过，庆幸自己没有胡来的哥哥，做了坏事给家里人丢脸。”

“我认为，比起任何恶少做的事情，上学时丢脸要难熬得多。”艾美摇摇头说，仿佛自己的人生经历属于饱经沧桑的那种。“苏希·潘金斯今天上学，戴了精美的红玉髓戒指。我也想戴，想得要命，恨不得我就是她本人。哦，她画了老师戴维斯先生的画像，鼻子巨大，还有驼背，从嘴巴放出一个气球形的说话框，说：‘小姐们，我的眼睛注视着你们！’我们大家对着画哄堂大笑，突然间他的眼睛真的注视我们了。他命令苏希把石板拿上来。她吓弹（瘫）了，可还是去了，哎哟，你看他怎么办？他拎住了她的耳朵——耳朵！想象有多可怕！——把她提到了讲台，罚她站了半小时，举着石板供大家观赏。”

“姑娘们有没有对着画儿笑呢？”乔问道。她玩味着这个麻烦局面。

“笑？没人敢！她们都坐得笔直哇。苏希痛哭流涕，没错。此刻我不嫉妒她了，我觉得，从此以后，哪怕有百万枚红玉髓戒指，也不能让我开心了。我永远永远也无法从这种痛苦不堪的奇耻大辱中恢复过来的。”艾美继续做手头的活计，自豪地体会着美德的作用，并且为了一口气成功说出了两个很难的成语而高兴。

“今天早上，我看到了喜欢看的东西。原来打算正餐时讲出来的，可我忘了，”贝丝一边说着，一边把乔乱七八糟的篮子整理好，“我出去帮汉娜取牡蛎，看见劳伦斯先生也在海鲜店里。不过他并没有看见我，我藏在鲜鱼桶后面呢，他忙着跟店老板喀特打交道。一个穷苦妇女提着木桶拖把进来，问老板能不能让她拖地板打工换一点点鱼儿吃，因为她的孩子们没有东西吃，而她之前一天都没有活干。喀特先生忙不过来，便没有好气地说‘没有！’她准备离开，面露饥色，垂头丧气。这时，劳伦斯先生用拐杖的弯头勾起一条大鱼，向她递过去。她又惊又喜，竟把鱼抱在怀里，对他千恩万谢。他吩咐她‘快去烧鱼’，她就匆匆离开，别提多高兴了！他是不是很好啊？哎，那女人的模样真的很滑稽，怀里抱着滑溜的大鱼，祝愿劳伦斯先生在天国的眠床‘适宜（意）'。”

她们笑完了贝丝的故事之后，便请母亲也讲一个。她想了想，严肃地说：

“今天，我在车间里坐着裁剪蓝色法兰绒上装，不觉为爸爸的境况感到揪心。想到要是他有个三长两短，我们会多么孤独，多么无助。这样做并不明智，却久久不能释怀。后来，一个老人进来订购衣服。他在我身边坐下，显然像个穷人，见他疲惫、焦虑的样子，我就开口跟他交谈。

“‘有儿子在军队里吗？’我问。他带来的字条不是给我的。

“‘有的，太太。共有四个，两个牺牲了，一个成了俘虏。我打算去看另一个，他病得厉害，在华盛顿住院。’他平静地回答。

“‘为国家贡献很大呀，先生。’我说，肃然起敬，取代了怜悯。

“‘都是应该做的，太太。我要是中用，还要亲自参军呢。既然不中用，就送子参军，无偿奉献。’

“他说话时语气欢乐，态度诚恳，似乎乐于奉献一切，我暗自感到羞愧。我只贡献了一个男人，还认为太多了，而他贡献了四个也在所不辞。我在家里有这么多女儿安慰自己，而他最后一个儿子在千里之外等候他，也许是为了跟他‘诀别’！想到自己的福气，我感到很富有，很开心，于是我给他打了一个精致的包袱，送给他一点点钞票，衷心感谢他给我上了一课。”

“妈妈，再来一个——就这样，带教益的。只要是真人真事，而不是过分说教，我喜欢听后加以回味。”沉默了一下之后，乔说。

马奇太太笑笑，立刻开始了。她为这些听众讲故事已经多年，懂得如何取悦她们。

“从前有四个小姑娘，不愁吃喝不愁穿，生活舒适，童年快乐，父母朋友善良，对她们宠爱有加，而她们并不满足。（这时，听众们暗自相互传递狡黠的眼色，并开始飞针走线。）这些姑娘急欲学好，做出了很好的决定，却不能持之以恒，不停地说，‘要是我们有这个就好了’, ‘要是我们能那样做就好了’，忘记了自己已经拥有了多少，自己已经能做多少事情。于是，她们问一个老太太，可以使用什么符咒，使自己格外快活。对方说：‘你们感到不满意时，就想想自己的福分，要感恩戴德。'（这时，乔猛地抬起头，仿佛要说些什么，但改变了主意，因为故事还没有完。）

“她们是通情达理的姑娘，就决定尝试老太太的建议，很快就惊奇地发现，自己是多么富有。一个姑娘发现，金钱无法把耻辱和悲伤赶出富人家庭；另一个发现，尽管自己贫穷，却拥有青春、健康、好兴致，比某位暴躁、虚弱、不会享受舒适的阔老太幸福多了；第三个发现，尽管帮厨做饭的差事令人讨厌，但上门讨饭更难熬；第四个发现，哪怕有红玉髓戒指也不如表现好值钱。于是，她们商定，不再怨天尤人，要尽情享受已经拥有的福分，努力做到受之无愧，免得福分增加不了，反而被完全收走。我相信，她们听了老太太的话，始终没有感到失望，也没有后悔。”

“啊，妈咪，你真狡猾，用我们自己的故事编派我们。这不是讲故事，而是布道！”美格大声说。

“我喜欢这种布道。爸爸以前也是说这种故事的。”贝丝若有所思地说，同时把缝衣针放到乔的针垫上。

“我不像别人那样抱怨这么多，现在要更加小心谨慎才是。我从苏希的下场得到了警示。”艾美能明辨是非。

“我们需要那种教训，不会忘怀的。如果忘记了，你只要像《汤姆大叔》中的老克罗一样对我们说‘想想上帝的恩宠吧，孩子们！想想上帝的恩宠吧！’就可以了。”乔打死也忍不住要从这个布道中发掘些许乐子出来，不过，她跟姐妹们一样，将布道的深意全都牢记在心中。

* * *

[1]希腊神话中，海之老人是诸多海神的形象的原型，此处以海之老人来形容马奇姑婆喜怒无常。

[2]布娃娃的名字。

[3]意大利文艺复兴盛期著名画家。

CHAPTER 4 BURDENS

“OH, DEAR, how hard it does seem to take up our packs and go on, ”sighed Meg the morning after the party, for now the holidays were over, the week of merrymaking did not fit her for going on easily with the task she never liked.

“I wish it was Christmas or New Year's all the time. Wouldn't it be fun? ” answered Jo, yawning dismally.

“We shouldn't enjoy ourselves half so much as we do now. But it does seem so nice to have little suppers and bouquets, and go to parties, and drive home, and read and rest, and not work. It's like other people, you know, and I always envy girls who do such things, I'm so fond of luxury, ”said Meg, trying to decide which of two shabby gowns was the least shabby.

“Well, we can't have it, so don't let us grumble but shoulder our bundles and trudge along as cheerfully as Marmee does. I'm sure Aunt March is a regular Old Man of the Sea to me, but I suppose when I've learned to carry her without complaining, she will tumble off, or get so light that I shan't mind her.”

This idea tickled Jo's fancy and put her in good spirits, but Meg didn't brighten, for her burden, consisting of four spoiled children, seemed heavier than ever. She had not heart enough even to make herself pretty as usual by putting on a blue neck ribbon and dressing her hair in the most becoming way.

“Where's the use of looking nice, when no one sees me but those cross midgets, and no one cares whether I'm pretty or not? ” she muttered, shutting her drawer with a jerk. “I shall have to toil and moil all my days, with only little bits of fun now and then, and get old and ugly and sour, because I'm poor and can't enjoy my life as other girls do. It's a shame! ”

So Meg went down, wearing an injured look, and wasn't at all agreeable at breakfast time. Everyone seemed rather out of sorts and inclined to croak. Beth had a headache and lay on the sofa, trying to comfort herself with the cat and three kittens. Amy was fretting because her lessons were not learned, and she couldn't find her rubbers. Jo would whistle and make a great racket getting ready; Mrs. March was very busy trying to finish a letter, which must go at once, and Hannah had the grumps, for being up late didn't suit her.

“There never was such a cross family! ” cried Jo, losing her temper when she had upset an inkstand, broken both boot lacings, and sat down upon her hat.

“You're the crossest person in it! ” returned Amy, washing out the sum that was all wrong with the tears that had fallen on her slate.

“Beth, if you don't keep these horrid cats down cellar I'll have them drowned, ” exclaimed Meg angrily, as she tried to get rid of the kitten which had scrambled up her back and stuck like a burr just out of reach.

Jo laughed, Meg scolded, Beth implored, and Amy wailed because she couldn't remember how much nine times twelve was.

“Girls,girls,do be quiet one minute!I must get this off by the early mail, and you drive me distracted with your worry, ” cried Mrs. March, crossing out the third spoiled sentence in her letter.

There was a momentary lull, broken by Hannah, who stalked in, laid two hot turnovers on the table, and stalked out again. These turnovers were an institution, and the girls called them “muffs”, for they had no others and found the hot pies very comforting to their hands on cold mornings. Hannah never forgot to make them, no matter how busy or grumpy she might be, for the walk was long and bleak. The poor things got no other lunch and were seldom home before two.

“Cuddle your cats and get over your headache, Beth. Goodbye, Marmee. We are a set of rascals this morning, but we'll come home regular angels. Now then, Meg! ” And Jo tramped away, feeling that the pilgrims were not setting out as they ought to do.

They always looked back before turning the corner, for their mother was always at the window to nod and smile, and wave her hand to them. Somehow it seemed as if they couldn't have got through the day without that, for whatever their mood might be, the last glimpse of that motherly face was sure to affect them like sunshine.

“If Marmee shook her fist instead of kissing her hand to us, it would serve us right, for more ungrateful wretches than we are were never seen, ”cried Jo, taking a remorseful satisfaction in the snowy walk and bitter wind.

“Don't use such dreadful expressions, ” replied Meg from the depths of the veil in which she had shrouded herself like a nun sick of the world.

“I like good strong words that mean something, ” replied Jo, catching her hat as it took a leap off her head preparatory to flying away altogether.

“Call yourself any names you like, but I am neither a rascal nor a wretch and I don't choose to be called so.”

“You're a blighted being, and decidedly cross today because you can't sit in the lap of luxury all the time. Poor dear, just wait till I make my fortune, and you shall revel in carriages and ice cream and high-heeled slippers, and posies, and red headed boys to dance with.”

“How ridiculous you are, Jo! ” But Meg laughed at the nonsense and felt better in spite of herself.

“Lucky for you I am, for if I put on crushed airs and tried to be dismal, as you do, we should be in a nice state. Thank goodness, I can always find something funny to keep me up. Don't croak any more, but come home jolly, there's a dear.”

Jo gave her sister an encouraging pat on the shoulder as they parted for the day, each going a different way, each hugging her little warm turnover, and each trying to be cheerful in spite of wintry weather, hard work, and the unsatisfied desires of pleasure-loving youth.

When Mr. March lost his property in trying to help an unfortunate friend, the two oldest girls begged to be allowed to do something toward their own support, at least. Believing that they could not begin too early to cultivate energy, industry, and independence, their parents consented, and both fell to work with the hearty good will which in spite of all obstacles is sure to succeed at last. Margaret found a place as nursery governess and felt rich with her small salary. As she said, she was “fond of luxury”, and her chief trouble was poverty. She found it harder to bear than the others because she could remember a time when home was beautiful, life full of ease and pleasure, and want of any kind unknown. She tried not to be envious or discontented, but it was very natural that the young girl should long for pretty things, gay friends, accomplishments, and a happy life. At the Kings' she daily saw all she wanted, for the children's older sisters were just out, and Meg caught frequent glimpses of dainty ball dresses and bouquets, heard lively gossip about theaters, concerts, sleighing parties, and merrymakings of all kinds, and saw money lavished on trifles which would have been so precious to her. Poor Meg seldom complained, but a sense of injustice made her feel bitter toward everyone sometimes, for she had not yet learned to know how rich she was in the blessings which alone can make life happy.

Jo happened to suit Aunt March, who was lame and needed an active person to wait upon her. The childless old lady had offered to adopt one of the girls when the troubles came, and was much offended because her offer was declined. Other friends told the Marches that they had lost all chance of being remembered in the rich old lady's will, but the unworldly Marches only said—

“We can't give up our girls for a dozen fortunes. Rich or poor, we will keep together and be happy in one another.”

The old lady wouldn't speak to them for a time, but happening to meet Jo at a friend's, something in her comical face and blunt manners struck the old lady's fancy, and she proposed to take her for a companion. This did not suit Jo at all, but she accepted the place since nothing better appeared and, to every one's surprise, got on remarkably well with her irascible relative. There was an occasional tempest, and once Jo marched home, declaring she couldn't bear it longer; but Aunt March always cleared up quickly, and sent for her to come back again with such urgency that she could not refuse, for in her heart she rather liked the peppery old lady.

I suspect that the real attraction was a large library of fine books, which was left to dust and spiders since Uncle March died. Jo remembered the kind old gentleman, who used to let her build railroads and bridges with his big dictionaries, tell her stories about queer pictures in his Latin books, and buy her cards of gingerbread whenever he met her in the street. The dim, dusty room, with the busts staring down from the tall bookcases, the cozy chairs, the globes, and best of all, the wilderness of books in which she could wander where she liked, made the library a region of bliss to her. The moment Aunt March took her nap, or was busy with company, Jo hurried to this quiet place, and curling herself up in the easy chair, devoured poetry, romance, history, travels, and pictures like a regular bookworm. But, like all happiness, it did not last long, for as sure as she had just reached the heart of the story, the sweetest verse of a song, or the most perilous adventure of her traveler, a shrill voice called, “Josy-phine! Josy-phine! ” and she had to leave her paradise to wind yarn, wash the poodle,or read Belsham's Essays by the hour together.

Jo's ambition was to do something very splendid. What it was, she had no idea as yet, but left it for time to tell her, and meanwhile, found her greatest affliction in the fact that she couldn't read, run, and ride as much as she liked. A quick temper, sharp tongue, and restless spirit were always getting her into scrapes, and her life was a series of ups and downs, which were both comic and pathetic. But the training she received at Aunt March's was just what she needed, and the thought that she was doing something to support herself made her happy in spite of the perpetual “Josy-phine! ”

Beth was too bashful to go to school. It had been tried, but she suffered so much that it was given up, and she did her lessons at home with her father. Even when he went away, and her mother was called to devote her skill and energy to Soldiers' Aid Societies, Beth went faithfully on by herself and did the best she could. She was a housewifely little creature, and helped Hannah keep home neat and comfortable for the workers, never thinking of any reward but to be loved. Long, quiet days she spent, not lonely nor idle, for her little world was peopled with imaginary friends, and she was by nature a busy bee. There were six dolls to be taken up and dressed every morning, for Beth was a child still and loved her pets as well as ever. Not one whole or handsome one among them, all were outcasts till Beth took them in, for when her sisters outgrew these idols, they passed to her because Amy would have nothing old or ugly. Beth cherished them all the more tenderly for that very reason, and set up a hospital for infirm dolls. No pins were ever stuck into their cotton vitals, no harsh words or blows were ever given them, no neglect ever saddened the heart of the most repulsive, but all were fed and clothed, nursed and caressed with an affection which never failed.One forlorn fragment of dollanity had belonged to Jo and,having led a tempestuous life, was left a wreck in the rag bag, from which dreary poorhouse it was rescued by Beth and taken to her refuge. Having no top to its head, she tied on a neat little cap, and as both arms and legs were gone, she hid these deficiencies by folding it in a blanket and devoting her best bed to this chronic invalid. If anyone had known the care lavished on that dolly, I think it would have touched their hearts, even while they laughed. She brought it bits of bouquets, she read to it, took it out to breathe fresh air, hidden under her coat, she sang it lullabies and never went to bed without kissing its dirty face and whispering tenderly, “I hope you'll have a good night, my poor dear.”

Beth had her troubles as well as the others, and not being an angel but a very human little girl, she often “wept a little weep, ” as Jo said, because she couldn't take music lessons and have a fine piano. She loved music so dearly, tried so hard to learn, and practiced away so patiently at the jingling old instrument, that it did seem as if someone (not to hint Aunt March) ought to help her. Nobody did, however, and nobody saw Beth wipe the tears off the yellow keys, that wouldn't keep in tune, when she was all alone. She sang like a little lark about her work, never was too tired for Marmee and the girls, and day after day said hopefully to herself, “I know I'll get my music some time, if I'm good.”

There are many Beths in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind.

If anybody had asked Amy what the greatest trial of her life was, she would have answered at once, “My nose.” When she was a baby, Jo had accidently dropped her into the coal hod, and Amy insisted that the fall had ruined her nose forever. It was not big nor red, like poor “Petrea's”, it was only rather flat, and all the pinching in the world could not give it an aristocratic point. No one minded it but herself, and it was doing its best to grow, but Amy felt deeply the want of a Grecian nose, and drew whole sheets of handsome ones to console herself.

“Little Raphael, ” as her sisters called her, had a decided talent for drawing, and was never so happy as when copying flowers, designing fairies, or illustrating stories with queer specimens of art. Her teachers complained that instead of doing her sums she covered her slate with animals, the blank pages of her atlas were used to copy maps on, and caricatures of the most ludicrous description came fluttering out of all her books at unlucky moments. She got through her lessons as well as she could, and managed to escape reprimands by being a model of deportment. She was a great favorite with her mates, being good-tempered and possessing the happy art of pleasing without effort. Her little airs and graces were much admired, so were her accomplishments, for besides her drawing, she could play twelve tunes, crochet, and read French without mispronouncing more than two-thirds of the words. She had a plaintive way of saying, “When Papa was rich we did so-and-so, ” which was very touching, and her long words were considered “perfectly elegant” by the girls.

Amy was in a fair way to be spoiled, for everyone petted her, and her small vanities and selfishnesses were growing nicely. One thing, however, rather quenched the vanities. She had to wear her cousin's clothes. Now Florence's mama hadn't a particle of taste, and Amy suffered deeply at having to wear a red instead of a blue bonnet, unbecoming gowns, and fussy aprons that did not fit. Everything was good, well made, and little worn, but Amy's artistic eyes were much afflicted, especially this winter, when her school dress was a dull purple with yellow dots and no trimming.

“My only comfort, ” she said to Meg, with tears in her eyes, “is that Mother doesn't take tucks in my dresses whenever I'm naughty, as Maria Parks' mother does. My dear, it's really dreadful, for sometimes she is so bad her frock is up to her knees, and she can't come to school. When I think of this deggerredation,I feel that I can bear even my flat nose and purple gown with yellow skyrockets on it.”

Meg was Amy's confidante and monitor, and by some strange attraction of opposites Jo was gentle Beth's. To Jo alone did the shy child tell her thoughts; and over her big harum-scarum sister Beth unconsciously exercised more influence than anyone in the family. The two older girls were a great deal to one another, but each took one of the younger sisters into her keeping and watched over her in her own way— “playing mother”they called it—and put their sisters in the places of discarded dolls with the maternal instinct of little women.

“Has anybody got anything to tell? It's been such a dismal day I'm really dying for some amusement, ” said Meg, as they sat sewing together that evening.

“I had a queer time with Aunt today, and, as I got the best of it, I'll tell you about it, ” began Jo, who dearly loved to tell stories. “I was reading that everlasting Belsham, and droning away as I always do, for Aunt soon drops off, and then I take out some nice book, and read like fury till she wakes up. I actually made myself sleepy, and before she began to nod, I gave such a gape that she asked me what I meant by opening my mouth wide enough to take the whole book in at once.”

“I wish I could, and be done with it, ” said I, trying not to be saucy.

“Then she gave me a long lecture on my sins, and told me to sit and think them over while she just ‘lost' herself for a moment. She never finds herself very soon, so the minute her cap began to bob like a top-heavy dahlia,I whipped the Vicar of Wakefield out of my pocket,and read away, with one eye on him and one on Aunt. I'd just got to where they all tumbled into the water when I forgot and laughed out loud. Aunt woke up and, being more good-natured after her nap, told me to read a bit and show what frivolous work I preferred to the worthy and instructive Belsham. I did my very best, and she liked it, though she only said—

“‘I don't understand what it's all about. Go back and begin it, child.'

“Back I went, and made the Primroses as interesting as ever I could. Once I was wicked enough to stop in a thrilling place, and say meekly, ‘I'm afraid it tires you, ma'am. Shan't I stop now? '

“She caught up her knitting, which had dropped out of her hands, gave me a sharp look through her specs, and said, in her short way, ‘Finish the chapter, and don't be impertinent, miss.'”

“Did she own she liked it? ” asked Meg.

“Oh, bless you, no! But she let old Belsham rest, and when I ran back after my gloves this afternoon, there she was, so hard at the Vicar that she didn't hear me laugh as I danced a jig in the hall because of the good time coming. What a pleasant life she might have if only she chose! I don't envy her much, in spite of her money, for after all rich people have about as many worries as poor ones, I think, ” added Jo.

“That reminds me, ” said Meg, “that I've got something to tell. It isn't funny, like Jo's story, but I thought about it a good deal as I came home. At the Kings' today I found everybody in a flurry, and one of the children said that her oldest brother had done something dreadful, and Papa had sent him away. I heard Mrs. King crying and Mr. King talking very loud, and Grace and Ellen turned away their faces when they passed me, so I shouldn't see how red and swollen their eyes were. I didn't ask any questions, of course, but I felt so sorry for them and was rather glad I hadn't any wild brothers to do wicked things and disgrace the family.”

“I think being disgraced in school is a great deal tryinger than anything bad boys can do, ” said Amy, shaking her head, as if her experience of life had been a deep one. “Susie Perkins came to school today with a lovely red carnelian ring. I wanted it dreadfully, and wished I was her with all my might. Well, she drew a picture of Mr. Davis, with a monstrous nose and a hump, and the words, ‘Young ladies, my eye is upon you! ' coming out of his mouth in a balloon thing. We were laughing over it when all of a sudden his eye was on us, and he ordered Susie to bring up her slate. She was parrylized with fright,but she went,and oh,what do you think he did? He took her by the ear—the ear! Just fancy how horrid! —and led her to the recitation platform, and made her stand there half an hour, holding the slate so everyone could see.”

“Didn't the girls laugh at the picture? ” asked Jo, who relished the scrape.

“Laugh? Not one! They sat still as mice, and Susie cried quarts, I know she did. I didn't envy her then, for I felt that millions of carnelian rings wouldn't have made me happy after that. I never, never should have got over such a agonizing mortification.” And Amy went on with her work, in the proud consciousness of virtue and the successful utterance of two long words in a breath.

“I saw something I liked this morning, and I meant to tell it at dinner,but I forgot, ” said Beth, putting Jo's topsy-turvy basket in order as she talked. “When I went to get some oysters for Hannah, Mr. Laurence was in the fish shop; but he didn't see me, for I kept behind the fish barrel, and he was busy with Mr. Cutter the fishman. A poor woman came in with a pail and a mop, and asked Mr. Cutter if he would let her do some scrubbing for a bit of fish, because she hadn't any dinner for her children, and had been disappointed of a day's work. Mr. Cutter was in a hurry and said ‘No', rather crossly, so she was going away, looking hungry and sorry, when Mr. Laurence hooked up a big fish with the crooked end of his cane and held it out to her. She was so glad and surprised she took it right into her arms, and thanked him over and over. He told her to ‘go along and cook it', and she hurried off, so happy! Wasn't it good of him? Oh, she did look so funny, hugging the big, slippery fish, and hoping Mr. Laurence's bed in heaven would be ‘aisy'.”

When they had laughed at Beth's story, they asked their mother for one, and after a moment's thought, she said soberly, “As I sat cutting out blue flannel jackets today at the rooms, I felt very anxious about Father, and thought how lonely and helpless we should be, if anything happened to him. It was not a wise thing to do, but I kept on worrying till an old man came in with an order for some clothes. He sat down near me, and I began to talk to him, for he looked poor and tired and anxious.

“‘Have you sons in the army? ' I asked, for the note he brought was not to me.

“‘Yes, ma'am. I had four, but two were killed, one is a prisoner, and I'm going to the other, who is very sick in a Washington hospital, ' he answered quietly.

“‘You have done a great deal for your country, sir, ' I said, feeling respect now, instead of pity.

“‘Not a mite more than I ought, ma'am. I'd go myself, if I was any use. As I ain't, I give my boys, and give 'em free.'

“He spoke so cheerfully, looked so sincere, and seemed so glad to give his all, that I was ashamed of myself. I'd given one man and thought it too much, while he gave four without grudging them. I had all my girls to comfort me at home, and his last son was waiting, miles away, to say good-by to him, perhaps! I felt so rich, so happy thinking of my blessings, that I made him a nice bundle, gave him some money, and thanked him heartily for the lesson he had taught me.”

“Tell another story, Mother, one with a moral to it, like this. I like to think about them afterward, if they are real and not too preachy, ” said Jo, after a minute's silence.

Mrs. March smiled and began at once, for she had told stories to this little audience for many years, and knew how to please them.

“Once upon a time, there were four girls, who had enough to eat and drink and wear, a good many comforts and pleasures, kind friends and parents who loved them dearly, and yet they were not contented.” (Here the listeners stole sly looks at one another, and began to sew diligently.)“These girls were anxious to be good and made many excellent resolutions, but they di