“Doitthisway。Claspyourhandsso，andstaggeracrosstheroom，cryingfrantically，`RoderigoSaveme!Saveme!’andawaywentJo，withamelodramaticscreamwhichwastrulythrilling。
Amyfollowed，butshepokedherhandsoutstifflybeforeher，andjerkedherselfalongasifshewentbymachinery，andher“Ow!“
wasmoresuggestiveofpinsbeingrunintoherthanoffearandanguish。Jogaveadespairinggroan，andMeglaughedoutright，whileBethletherbreadburnasshewatchedthefunwithinterest。
“It’snouse!Dothebestyoucanwhenthetimecomes，andiftheaudiencelaughs，don’tblameme。Comeon，Meg。“
“Thenthingswentsmoothly，forDonPedrodefiedtheworldinaspeechoftwopageswithoutasinglebreak。Hagar，thewitch，chantedanawfulincantationoverherkettlefulofsimmeringtoads，withweirdeffect。Roderigorenthischainsasundermanfully，andHugodiedinagoniesofremorseandarsenic，withawild，“Ha!Ha!“
“It’sthebestwe’vehadyet，“saidMeg，asthedeadvillainsatupandrubbedhiselbows。
“Idon’tseehowyoucanwriteandactsuchsplendidthings，Jo。You’rearegularShakespeare!“exclaimedBeth，whofirmlybelievedthathersistersweregiftedwithwonderfulgeniusinallthings。
“Notquite，“repliedJomodestly。“IdothinkTHEWITCHESCURSE，anOperaticTragedyisratheranicething，butI’dliketotryMcBETH，ifweonlyhadatrapdoorforBanquo。Ialwayswantedtodothekillingpart。`IsthatadaggerthatIseebeforeme？“
mutteredJo，rollinghereyesandclutchingattheair，asshehadseenafamoustragediando。
“No，it’sthetoastingfork，withMother’sshoeonitinsteadofthebread。Beth’sstage-struck!“criedMeg，andtherehearsalendedinageneralburstoflaughter。
“Gladtofindyousomerry，mygirls，“saidacheeryvoiceatthedoor，andactorsandaudienceturnedtowelcomeatall，motherlyladywitha`canIhelpyou’lookaboutherwhichwastrulydelightful。
Shewasnotelegantlydressed，butanoble-lookingwoman，andthegirlsthoughtthegraycloakandunfashionablebonnetcoveredthemostsplendidmotherintheworld。
“Well，dearies，howhaveyougotontoday？Therewassomuchtodo，gettingtheboxesreadytogotomorrow，thatIdidn’tcomehometodinner。Hasanyonecalled，Beth？Howisyourcold，Meg？
Jo，youlooktiredtodeath。Comeandkissme，baby。“
WhilemakingthesematernalinquiriesMrs。Marchgotherwetthingsoff，herwarmslipperson，andsittingdownintheeasychair，drewAmytoherlap，preparingtoenjoythehappiesthourofherbusyday。Thegirlsflewabout，tryingtomakethingscomfortable，eachinherownway。Megarrangedtheteatable，Jobroughtwoodandsetchairs，dropping，over-turning，andclatteringeverythingshetouched。Bethtrottedtoandfrobetweenparlorkitchen，quietandbusy，whileAmygavedirectionstoeveryone，asshesatwithherhandsfolded。
Astheygatheredaboutthetable，Mrs。Marchsaid，withaparticularlyhappyface，“I’vegotatreatforyouaftersupper。“
Aquick，brightsmilewentroundlikeastreakofsunshine。
Bethclappedherhands，regardlessofthebiscuitsheheld，andJotosseduphernapkin，crying，“Aletter!Aletter!
ThreecheersforFather!“
“Yes，anicelongletter。Heiswell，andthinksheshallgetthroughthecoldseasonbetterthanwefeared。HesendsallsortsoflovingwishesforChristmas，andanespecialmessagetoyougirls，“saidMrs。March，pattingherpocketasifshehadgotatreasurethere。
“Hurryandgetdone!Don’tstoptoquirkyourlittlefingerandsimperoveryourplate，Amy，“criedJo，chokingonherteaanddroppingherbread，buttersidedown，onthecarpetinherhastetogetatthetreat。
Bethatenomore，butcreptawaytositinhershadowycornerandbroodoverthedelighttocome，tilltheotherswereready。
“IthinkitwassosplendidinFathertogoaschaplainwhenhewastoooldtobedrafted，andnotstrongenoughforasoldier，“saidMegwarmly。
“Don’tIwishIcouldgoasadrummer，avivan——what’sitsname？Oranurse，soIcouldbenearhimandhelphim，“exclaimedJo，withagroan。
“Itmustbeverydisagreeabletosleepinatent，andeatallsortsofbad-tastingthings，anddrinkoutofatinmug，“
sighedAmy。
“Whenwillhecomehome，Marmee？askedBeth，withalittlequiverinhervoice。
“Notformanymonths，dear，unlessheissick。Hewillstayanddohisworkfaithfullyaslongashecan，andwewon’taskforhimbackaminutesoonerthanhecanbespared。Nowcomeandheartheletter。“
Theyalldrewtothefire，MotherinthebigchairwithBethatherfeet，MegandAmyperchedoneitherarmofthechair，andJoleaningontheback，wherenoonewouldseeanysignofemotionifthelettershouldhappentobetouching。Veryfewletterswerewritteninthosehardtimesthatwerenottouching，especiallythosewhichfatherssenthome。Inthisonelittlewassaidofthehardshipsendured，thedangersfaced，orthehomesicknessconquered。
Itwasacheerful，hopefulletter，fulloflivelydescriptionsofcamplife，marches，andmilitarynews，andonlyattheenddidthewriter’sheartover-flowwithfatherlyloveandlongingforthelittlegirlsathome。
“Givethemallofmydearloveandakiss。TellthemIthinkofthembyday，prayforthembynight，andfindmybestcomfortintheiraffectionatalltimes。AyearseemsverylongtowaitbeforeIseethem，butremindthemthatwhilewewaitwemayallwork，sothattheseharddaysneednotbewasted。IknowtheywillrememberallIsaidtothem，thattheywillbelovingchildrentoyou，willdotheirdutyfaithfully，fighttheirbosomenemiesbravely，andconquerthemselvessobeautifullythatwhenIcomebacktothemImaybefonderandprouderthaneverofmylittlewomen。“
Everybodysniffedwhentheycametothatpart。Jowasn’tashamedofthegreattearthatdroppedofftheendofhernose，andAmynevermindedtherumplingofhercurlsasshehidherfaceonhermother’sshoulderandsobbedout，“Iamaselfishgirl!ButI’lltrulytrytobebetter，sohemayn’tbedisappointedinmeby-and-by。“
Weallwill，“criedMeg。“Ithinktoomuchofmylooksandhatetowork，butwon’tanymore，ifIcanhelpit。“
“I’lltryandbewhathelovestocallme，`alittlewoman’
andnotberoughandwild，butdomydutyhereinsteadofwantingtobesomewhereelse，“saidJo，thinkingthatkeepinghertemperathomewasamuchhardertaskthanfacingarebelortwodownSouth。
Bethsaidnothing，butwipedawayhertearswiththebluearmysockandbegantoknitwithallhermight，losingnotimeindoingthedutythatlaynearesther，whilesheresolvedinherquietlittlesoultobeallthatFatherhopedtofindherwhentheyearbroughtroundthehappycominghome。
Mrs。MarchbrokethesilencethatfollowedJo’swords，bysayinginhercheeryvoice，“DoyourememberhowyouusedtoplayPilgrimsProgresswhenyouwerelittlethings？Nothingdelightedyoumorethantohavemetiemypiecebagsonyourbacksforburdens，giveyouhatsandsticksandrollsofpaper，andletyoutravelthroughthehousefromthecellar，whichwastheCityofDestruction，up，up，tothehousetop，whereyouhadallthelovelythingsyoucouldcollecttomakeaCelestialCity。“
“Whatfunitwas，especiallygoingbythelions，fightingApollyon，andpassingthroughthevalleywherethehob-goblinswere，“saidJo。
“Ilikedtheplacewherethebundlesfelloffandtumbleddownstairs，“saidMeg。
“Idon’tremembermuchaboutit，exceptthatIwasafraidofthecellarandthedarkentry，andalwayslikedthecakeandmilkwehadupatthetop。IfIwasn’ttoooldforsuchthings，I’dratherliketoplayitoveragain，“saidAmy，whobegantotalkofrenouncingchildishthingsatthematureageoftwelve。
“Weneveraretoooldforthis，mydear，becauseitisaplayweareplayingallthetimeinonewayoranother。Outburdensarehere，ourroadisbeforeus，andthelongingforgoodnessandhappinessistheguidethatleadsusthroughmanytroublesandmistakestothepeacewhichisatrueCelestialCity。Now，mylittlepilgrims，supposeyoubeginagain，notinplay，butinearnest，andseehowfaronyoucangetbeforeFathercomeshome。“
“Really，Mother？Whereareourbundles？“askedAmy，whowasaveryliteralyounglady。
“Eachofyoutoldwhatyourburdenwasjustnow，exceptBeth。
Iratherthinkshehasn’tgotany，“saidhermother。
“Yes，Ihave。Mineisdishesanddusters，andenvyinggirlswithnicepianos，andbeingafraidofpeople。“
Beth’sbundlewassuchafunnyonethateverybodywantedtolaugh，butnobodydid，foritwouldhavehurtherfeelingsverymuch。
“Letusdoit，“saidMegthoughtfully。“Itisonlyanothernamefortryingtobegood，andthestorymayhelpus，forthoughwedowanttobegood，it’shardworkandweforget，anddon’tdoourbest。“
“WewereintheSloughofDespondtonight，andMothercameandpulledusoutasHelpdidinthebook。Weoughttohaveourrollofdirections，likeChristian。Whatshallwedoaboutthat？“
askedJo，delightedwiththefancywhichlentalittleromancetotheverydulltaskofdoingherduty。
“Lookunderyourpillowschristmasmorning，andyouwillfindyourguidebook，“repliedMrs。March。
TheytalkedoverthenewplanwhileoldHannahclearedthetable，thenoutcamethefourlittleworkbaskets，andtheneedlesflewasthegirlsmadesheetsforAuntMarch。Itwasuninterestingsewing，buttonightnoonegrumbled。TheyadoptedJo’splanofdividingthelongseamsintofourparts，andcallingthequartersEurope，Asia，Africa，andAmerica，andinthatwaygotoncapitally，especiallywhentheytalkedaboutthedifferentcountriesastheystitchedtheirwaythroughthem。
Atninetheystoppedwork，andsang，asusual，beforetheywenttobed。NoonebutBethcouldgetmuchmusicoutoftheoldpiano，butshehadawayofsoftlytouchingtheyellowkeysandmakingapleasantaccompanimenttothesimplesongstheysang。
Meghadavoicelikeaflute，andsheandherrmotherledthelittlechoir。Amychirpedlikeacricket，andJowanderedthroughtheairsatherownsweetwill，alwayscomingoutatthewrongplacewithacroakoraquaverthatspoiledthemostpensivetune。Theyhadalwaysdonethisfromthetimetheycouldlisp……
Crinkle，crinkle，’ittle’tar，andithadbecomeahouseholdcustom，forthemotherwasabornsinger。Thefirstsoundinthemorningwashervoiceasshewentaboutthehousesinginglikealark，andthelastsoundatnightwasthesamecheerysound，forthegirlsnevergrewtoooldforthatfamiliarlullaby。