me to read a bit and show what frivolous work I preferred to Belsham. I did my very best and she told me to finish the chapter.”
“Did she like it?” asked Meg.
“Oh, bless you, no! But she let old Belsham rest,” added Jo.
“That reminds me,” said Meg, “that I've got something to tell. It isn't funny, like Jo's story. At the Kings' today 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. 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 worse than anything bad boys can do,” said Amy, shaking her head. “Susie Perkins drew a picture of Mr. Davis today, 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 he saw us, and 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!”
“Tell another story, Mother, one with a moral to it. I like to think about them afterward,” said Jo, after a minute's silence.
Mrs. March smiled and began at once.
“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. These girls were anxious to be good and made many excellent resolutions, but they did not keep them very well, and were constantly saying, ‘If only we had this,' or ‘If we could only do that,' forgetting how much they already had. So they asked an old woman what they could do to make them happy, and she said, ‘When you feel discontented, think over your blessings, and be grateful.'” Being sensible girls, they decided to try her advice. One discovered that money couldn't keep shame and sorrow out of rich people's houses, another that, though she was poor, she was a great deal happier, with her youth, health, than a certain feeble old lady, a third that nothing was as valuable as good behavior. So they agreed to stop complaining, to enjoy the blessings they already had.”
“Now, Marmee, that is very good of you to turn our own stories against us, and give us a sermon instead of a romance!” cried Meg.
“I like that kind of sermon. It's the sort Father used to tell us,” said Beth thoughtfully.
“We needed that lesson, and we won't forget it!'” added Jo, who could not, for the life of her, help getting a morsel of fun out of the little sermon.
Chapter five
Being neighborly
“What are you going to do now, Jo?” asked Meg one snowy afternoon, as her sister came through the house, in rubber boots, old sack, and hood, with a broom in one hand and a shovel in the other.
“Going out for exercise,” answered Jo. “I like adventures, and I'm going to find some.”
Jo went outside and began to dig paths with great energy. The snow was light, and with her broom she soon swept a path all round the garden. Now, the garden separated the Marches' house from that of Mr. Laurence. A low hedge parted the two estates. On one side was an old, brown house, looking rather bare and shabby, robbed of the vines that in summer covered its walls and the flowers, which then surrounded it. On the other side was a stately stone mansion. It seemed a lonely, lifeless sort of house. Few people went in and out, except the old gentleman and his grandson.
To Jo's lively fancy, this fine house seemed a kind of enchanted palace. She wanted to know more about it, and to know the Laurence boy.
“That boy is suffering for society and fun,” she said to herself. “His grandpa does not know what's good for him, and keeps him shut up all alone. I've a great mind to go over and tell the old gentleman so!”
The idea amused Jo, who liked to do daring things and was always scandalizing Meg by her queer performances. And when the snowy afternoon came, Jo resolved to try what could be done. She saw Mr. Lawrence drive off, and then went to dig her way down to the hedge, where she paused and took a survey. All quiet, curtains down at the lower windows, servants out of sight, and nothing human visible but a curly black head leaning on a thin hand at the upper window.
“There he is,” thought Jo, “Poor boy! All alone. It's a shame! I'll toss up a snowball and make him look out, and then say a kind word to him.”
Up went a handful of soft snow, and the head turned at once, showing a face which lost its listless look in a minute, as the big eyes brightened and the mouth began to smile. Jo nodded and laughed, and flourished her broom as she called out…
“How do you do? Are you sick?”
Laurie opened the window, and croaked out as hoarsely as a raven…
“Better, thank you. I've had a bad cold, and been shut up a week.”
“I'm sorry. What do you amuse yourself with?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't you read?”
“Not much. They won't let me.”
“Have someone come and see you then.”
“There isn't anyone I'd like to see. Boys are loud, and my head hurts.”
“Isn't there some nice girl who'd read and amuse you? Girls are quiet.”
“Don't know any.”
“You know us,” began Jo, then laughed and stopped.
“So I do! Will you come, please?” cried Laurie.
“I'm not quiet and nice, but I'll come, if Mother will let me. I'll go ask her. Shut the window, like a good boy, and wait till I come.”
With that, Jo marched into the house.
Laurie was in a flutter of excitement at the idea of having company, and flew about to get ready. Presently there came a loud ring, then a decided voice, asking for ‘Mr. Laurie', and a surprised-looking servant came running up to announce a young lady.
“All right, let her in, it's Miss Jo,” said Laurie. Jo appeared, looking rosy. Laurie watched her in respectful silence, and when she beckoned him to his sofa, he sat down with a sigh of satisfaction, saying gratefully…
“How kind you are! Yes, that's what it wanted. Now please take the big chair and let me do something to amuse my company.”
“No, I came to amuse you. Shall I read aloud?” said Jo, looking at the books in the room.
“Thank you! I've read all those, and if you don't mind, I'd rather talk,” answered Laurie.
“Not a bit. I'll talk all day. Beth says I never know when to stop.”
“Is Beth the rosy one, who stays at home?” asked Laurie with interest.
“Yes, that's Beth.”
“The pretty one is Meg, and the curly-haired one is Amy, I believe?”
“How did you find that out?”
Laurie colored
