CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LETTERS
In the cold gray dawn the sisters lit their lamp and read their chapter with
an earnestness never felt before. For now the shadow of a real trouble had
come, the little books were full of help and comfort, and as they dressed,
they agreed to say goodbye cheerfully and hopefully, and send their mother
on her anxious journey unsaddened by tears or complaints from them.
Everything seemed very strange when they went down, so dim and still
outside, so full of light and bustle within. Breakfast at that early hour
seemed odd, and even Hannah’s familiar face looked unnatural as she flew
about her kitchen with her nightcap on. The big trunk stood ready in the
hall, Mother’s cloak and bonnet lay on the sofa, and Mother herself sat
trying to eat, but looking so pale and worn with sleeplessness and anxiety
that the girls found it very hard to keep their resolution. Meg’s eyes kept
filling in spite of herself, Jo was obliged to hide her face in the kitchen
roller more than once, and the little girls wore a grave, troubled expression,
as if sorrow was a new experience to them.
Nobody talked much, but as the time drew very near and they sat waiting
for the carriage, Mrs. March said to the girls, who were all busied about her,
one folding her shawl, another smoothing out the strings of her bonnet, a
third putting on her overshoes, and a fourth fastening up her travelling
bag…
“Children, I leave you to Hannah’s care and Mr. Laurence’s protection.
Hannah is faithfulness itself, and our good neighbor will guard you as if
you were his own. I have no fears for you, yet I am anxious that you should
take this trouble rightly. Don’t grieve and fret when I am gone, or think that
you can be idle and comfort yourselves by being idle and trying to forget.
Go on with your work as usual, for work is a blessed solace. Hope and keep
busy, and whatever happens, remember that you never can be fatherless.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Meg, dear, be prudent, watch over your sisters, consult Hannah, and in
any perplexity, go to Mr. Laurence. Be patient, Jo, don’t get despondent or
do rash things, write to me often, and be my brave girl, ready to help and
cheer all. Beth, comfort yourself with your music, and be faithful to the
little home duties, and you, Amy, help all you can, be obedient, and keep
happy safe at home.”
“We will, Mother! We will!”
The rattle of an approaching carriage made them all start and listen. That
was the hard minute, but the girls stood it well. No one cried, no one ran
away or uttered a lamentation, though their hearts were very heavy as they
sent loving messages to Father, remembering, as they spoke that it might be
too late to deliver them. They kissed their mother quietly, clung about her
tenderly, and tried to wave their hands cheerfully when she drove away.
Laurie and his grandfather came over to see her off, and Mr. Brooke
looked so strong and sensible and kind that the girls christened him ‘Mr.
Greatheart’ on the spot.
“Good-by, my darlings! God bless and keep us all!” whispered Mrs.
March, as she kissed one dear little face after the other, and hurried into the
carriage.
As she rolled away, the sun came out, and looking back, she saw it
shining on the group at the gate like a good omen. They saw it also, and
smiled and waved their hands, and the last thing she beheld as she turned
the corner was the four bright faces, and behind them like a bodyguard, old
Mr. Laurence, faithful Hannah, and devoted Laurie.
“How kind everyone is to us!” she said, turning to find fresh proof of it in
the respectful sympathy of the young man’s face.
“I don’t see how they can help it,” returned Mr. Brooke, laughing so
infectiously that Mrs. March could not help smiling. And so the journey
began with the good omens of sunshine, smiles, and cheerful words.
“I feel as if there had been an earthquake,” said Jo, as their neighbors
went home to breakfast, leaving them to rest and refresh themselves.
“It seems as if half the house was gone,” added Meg forlornly.
Beth opened her lips to say something, but could only point to the pile of
nicely mended hose which lay on Mother’s table, showing that even in her
last hurried moments she had thought and worked for them. It was a little
thing, but it went straight to their hearts, and in spite of their brave
resolutions, they all broke down and cried bitterly.
Hannah wisely allowed them to relieve their feelings, and when the
shower showed signs of clearing up, she came to the rescue, armed with a
coffeepot.
“Now, my dear young ladies, remember what your ma said, and don’t
fret. Come and have a cup of coffee all round, and then let’s fall to work
and be a credit to the family.”
Coffee was a treat, and Hannah showed great tact in making it that
morning. No one could resist her persuasive nods, or the fragrant invitation
issuing from the nose of the coffee pot. They drew up to the table,
exchanged their handkerchiefs for napkins, and in ten minutes were all right
again.
“‘Hope and keep busy’, that’s the motto for us, so let’s see who will
remember it best. I shall go to Aunt March, as usual. Oh, won’t she lecture
though!” said Jo, as she sipped with returning spirit.
“I shall go to my Kings, though I’d much rather stay at home and attend
to things here,” said Meg, wishing she hadn’t made her eyes so red.
“No need of that. Beth and I can keep house perfectly well,” put in Amy,
with an important air.
“Hannah will tell us what to do, and we’ll have everything nice when you
come home,” added Beth, getting out her mop and dish tub without delay.
“I think anxiety is very interesting,” observed Amy, eating sugar
pensively.
The girls couldn’t help laughing, and felt better for it, though Meg shook
her head at the young lady who could find consolation in a sugar bowl.
The sight of the turnovers made Jo sober again; and when the two went
out to their daily tasks, they looked sorrowfully back at the window where
they were accustomed to see their mother’s face. It was gone, but Beth had
remembered the little household ceremony, and there she was, nodding
away at them like a rosyfaced mandarin.
“That’s so like my Beth!” said Jo, waving her hat, with a grateful face.
“Goodbye, Meggy, I hope the Kings won’t strain today. Don’t fret about
Father, dear,” she added, as they parted.
“And I hope Aunt March won’t croak. Your hair is becoming, and it looks
very boyish and nice,” returned Meg, trying not to smile at the curly head,
which looked comically small on her tall sister’s shoulders.
“That’s my only comfort.” And, touching her hat a la Laurie, away went
Jo, feeling like a shorn sheep on a wintry day.
News from their father comforted the girls very much, for though
dangerously ill, the presence of the best and tenderest of nurses had already
done him good. Mr. Brooke sent a bulletin every day, and as the head of the
family, Meg insisted on reading the dispatches, which grew more cheerful
as the week passed. At first, everyone was eager to write, and plump
envelopes were carefully poked into the letter box by one or other of the
sisters, who felt rather important with their Washington correspondence. As
one of these packets contained characteristic notes from the party, we will
rob an imaginary mail, and read them.
My dearest Mother:
It is impossible to tell you how happy your last letter made
us, for the news was so good we couldn’t help laughing and
crying over it. How very kind Mr. Brooke is, and how
fortunate that Mr. Laurence’s business detains him near you
so long, since he is so useful to you and Father. The girls are
all as good as gold. Jo helps me with the sewing, and insists
on doing all sorts of hard jobs. I should be afraid she might
overdo, if I didn’t know her ‘moral fit’ wouldn’t last long.
Beth is as regular about her tasks as a clock, and never
forgets what you told her. She grieves about Father, and
looks sober except when she is at her little piano. Amy
minds me nicely, and I take great care of her. She does her
own hair, and I am teaching her to make buttonholes and
mend her stockings. She tries very hard, and I know you will
be pleased with her improvement when you come. Mr.
Laurence watches over us like a motherly old hen, as Jo
says, and Laurie is very kind and neighborly. He and Jo keep
us merry, for we get pretty blue sometimes, and feel like
orphans, with you so far away. Hannah is a perfect saint. She
does not scold at all, and always calls me Miss Margaret,
which is quite proper, you know, and treats me with respect.
We are all well and busy, but we long, day and night, to have
you back. Give my dearest love to Father, and believe me,
ever your own…
MEG
This note, prettily written on scented paper, was a great contrast to the
next, which was scribbled on a big sheet of thin foreign paper, ornamented
with blots and all manner of flourishes and curly-tailed letters.
My precious Marmee:
Three cheers for dear Father! Brooke was a trump to
telegraph right off, and let us know the minute he was better.
I rushed up garret when the letter came, and tried to thank
God for being so good to us, but I could only cry, and say,
“I’m glad! I’m glad!” Didn’t that do as well as a regular
prayer? For I felt a great many in my heart. We have such
funny times, and now I can enjoy them, for everyone is so
desperately good, it’s like living in a nest of turtledoves.
You’d laugh to see Meg head the table and try to be
motherish. She gets prettier every day, and I’m in love with
her sometimes. The children are regular archangels, and I—
well, I’m Jo, and never shall be anything else. Oh, I must tell
you that I came near having a quarrel with Laurie. I freed
my mind about a silly little thing, and he was offended. I
was right, but didn’t speak as I ought, and he marched home,
saying he wouldn’t come again till I begged pardon. I
declared I wouldn’t and got mad. It lasted all day. I felt bad
and wanted you very much. Laurie and I are both so proud,
it’s hard to beg pardon. But I thought he’d come to it, for I
was in the right. He didn’t come, and just at night I
remembered what you said when Amy fell into the river. I
read my little book, felt better, resolved not to let the sun set
on my anger, and ran over to tell Laurie I was sorry. I met
him at the gate, coming for the same thing. We both laughed,
begged each other’s pardon, and felt all good and
comfortable again.
I made a ‘pome’ yesterday, when I was helping Hannah
wash, and as Father likes my silly little things, I put it in to
amuse him. Give him my lovingest hug that ever was, and
kiss yourself a dozen times for your…
TOPSY-TURVY JO
A SONG FROM THE SUDS
Queen of my tub, I merrily sing,
While the white foam rises high,
And sturdily wash and rinse and wring,
And fasten the clothes to dry.
Then out in the free fresh air they swing,
Under the sunny sky.
I wish we could wash from our hearts and souls
The stains of the week away,
And let water and air by their magic make
Ourselves as pure as they.
Then on the earth there would be indeed,
A glorious washing day!
Along the path of a useful life,
Will heart’s-ease ever bloom.
The busy mind has no time to think
Of sorrow or care or gloom.
And anxious thoughts may be swept away,
As we bravely wield a broom.
I am glad a task to me is given,
To labor at day by day,
For it brings me health and strength and hope,
And I cheerfully learn to say,
“Head, you may think, Heart, you may feel,
But, Hand, you shall work alway!”
Dear Mother,
There is only room for me to send my love, and some
pressed pansies from the root I have been keeping safe in the
house for Father to see. I read every morning, try to be good
all day, and sing myself to sleep with Father’s tune. I can’t
sing ‘LAND OF THE LEAL’ now, it makes me cry.
Everyone is very kind, and we are as happy as we can be
without you. Amy wants the rest of the page, so I must stop.
I didn’t forget to cover the holders, and I wind the clock and
air the rooms every day.
Kiss dear Father on the cheek he calls mine. Oh, do come
soon to your loving…
LITTLE BETH
Ma Chere Mamma,
We are all well I do my lessons always and never
corroberate the girls—Meg says I mean contradick so I put
in both words and you can take the properest. Meg is a great
comfort to me and lets me have jelly every night at tea its so
good for me Jo says because it keeps me sweet tempered.
Laurie is not as respeckful as he ought to be now I am
almost in my teens, he calls me Chick and hurts my feelings
by talking French to me very fast when I say Merci or Bon
jour as Hattie King does. The sleeves of my blue dress were
all worn out, and Meg put in new ones, but the full front
came wrong and they are more blue than the dress. I felt bad
but did not fret I bear my troubles well but I do wish Hannah
would put more starch in my aprons and have buckwheats
every day. Can’t she? Didn’t I make that interrigation point
nice? Meg says my punchtuation and spelling are
disgraceful and I am mortyfied but dear me I have so many
things to do, I can’t stop. Adieu, I send heaps of love to
Papa. Your affectionate daughter…
AMY CURTIS MARCH
Dear Mis March,
I jes drop a line to say we git on fust rate. The girls is clever
and fly round right smart. Miss Meg is going to make a
proper good housekeeper. She hes the liking for it, and gits
the hang of things surprisin quick. Jo doos beat all for goin
ahead, but she don’t stop to cal’k’late fust, and you never
know where she’s like to bring up. She done out a tub of
clothes on Monday, but she starched ’em afore they was
wrenched, and blued a pink calico dress till I thought I
should a died a laughin. Beth is the best of little creeters, and
a sight of help to me, bein so forehanded and dependable.
She tries to learn everything, and really goes to market
beyond her years, likewise keeps accounts, with my help,
quite wonderful. We have got on very economical so fur. I
don’t let the girls hev coffee only once a week, accordin to
your wish, and keep em on plain wholesome vittles. Amy
does well without frettin, wearin her best clothes and eatin
sweet stuff. Mr. Laurie is as full of didoes as usual, and turns
the house upside down frequent, but he heartens the girls, so
I let em hev full swing. The old gentleman sends heaps of
things, and is rather wearin, but means wal, and it aint my
place to say nothin. My bread is riz, so no more at this time.
I send my duty to Mr. March, and hope he’s seen the last of
his Pewmonia.
Yours respectful,
Hannah Mullet
Head Nurse of Ward No. 2,
All serene on the Rappahannock, troops in fine condition,
commisary department well conducted, the Home Guard
under Colonel Teddy always on duty, Commander in Chief
General Laurence reviews the army daily, Quartermaster
Mullet keeps order in camp, and Major Lion does picket
duty at night. A salute of twenty-four guns was fired on
receipt of good news from Washington, and a dress parade
took place at headquarters. Commander in chief sends best
wishes, in which he is heartily joined by…
COLONEL TEDDY
Dear Madam:
The little girls are all well. Beth and my boy report daily.
Hannah is a model servant, and guards pretty Meg like a
dragon. Glad the fine weather holds. Pray make Brooke
useful, and draw on me for funds if expenses exceed your
estimate. Don’t let your husband want anything. Thank God
he is mending.
Your sincere friend and servant, JAMES LAURENCE
