Little Women

Louisa May Alcott

• Editore: Youcanprint
• Anno: 2017
• ISBN:
  9788892698406
• Argomento: Letteratura
• Categoria: Classici

Little Women or, Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy is a novel by American author Louisa May Alcott (1832–1888). Written and published in two parts in 1868 and 1869, the novel follows the lives of four sisters — Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy March — and is loosely based on the author's childhood experiences with her three sisters. The first part of the book was an immediate commercial and critical success and prompted the composition of the book's second part, also a huge success. Both parts were first published as a single volume in 1880. The book is an unquestioned American classic.

CHAPTER ONE-PLAYING PILGRIMS

"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbledJo, lying onthe rug.

"It's so dreadful to be poor!" sighed Meg, looking down at herold dress.

"I don't think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of prettythings, and other girls nothing at all," added little Amy, with aninjured sniff.

"We've got Father andMother, and each other," said Bethcontentedly from her corner.

The four young faces on which the firelight shone brightened atthe cheerful words, but darkened again as Jo said sadly, "Wehaven't got Father, and shall not have him for a long time." Shedidn't say "perhaps never," but each silently added it, thinking ofFather far away, where the fighting was.

Nobody spoke for a minute; then Meg said in an altered tone,"You know the reason Mother proposed not having any presents thisChristmas was becauseit is going to be a hard winter for everyone;and she thinks we ought not to spend money for pleasure, when ourmen are suffering so in the army. We can't do much, but we can makeour little sacrifices, and ought to do it gladly. But I am afraid Idon't,"and Meg shook her head, as she thought regretfully of allthe pretty things she wanted.

"But I don't think the little we should spend would do any good.We've each got a dollar, and the army wouldn't be much helped byour giving that. I agree not to expectanything from Mother or you,but I do want to buyUndine and Sintranfor myself. I've wanted it solong," said Jo, who was a bookworm.

"I planned to spend mine in new music," said Beth, with a littlesigh, which no one heard but the hearth brush andkettle-holder.

"I shall get a nice box of Faber's drawing pencils; I reallyneed them," said Amy decidedly.

"Mother didn't say anything about our money, and she won't wishus to give up everything. Let's each buy what we want, and have alittle fun; I'm sure wework hard enough to earn it," cried Jo,examining the heels of her shoes in a gentlemanly manner.

"I know I do—teaching those tiresome children nearly allday, when I'm longing to enjoy myself at home," began Meg, in thecomplaining tone again.

"You don'thave half such a hard time as I do," said Jo. "Howwould you like to be shut up for hours with a nervous, fussy oldlady, who keeps you trotting, is never satisfied, and worries youtill you're ready to fly out the window or cry?"

"It's naughty to fret, but I do think washing dishes and keepingthings tidy is the worst work in the world. It makes me cross, andmy hands get so stiff, I can't practice well at all." And Bethlooked at her rough hands with a sigh that any one could hear thattime.

"I don't believe any of you suffer as I do," cried Amy, "for youdon't have to go to school with impertinent girls, who plague youif you don't know your lessons, and laugh at your dresses, andlabel your father if he isn't rich, and insult you when your noseisn't nice."

"If you mean libel, I'd say so, and not talk about labels, as ifPapa was a pickle bottle," advised Jo, laughing.

"I know what I mean, and you needn't be statirical about it.It's proper to use good words, and improve your vocabilary,"returned Amy, with dignity.

"Don't peck at one another, children. Don't you wish we had themoney Papa lost when we were little, Jo? Dear me! How happy andgood we'd be, if we had no worries!" said Meg, who could rememberbetter times.

"You said the other day you thoughtwe were a deal happier thanthe King children, for they were fighting and fretting all thetime, in spite of their money."

"So I did, Beth. Well, I think we are. For though we do have towork, we make fun of ourselves, and are a pretty jolly set, as Jowould say."

"Jo does use such slang words!" observed Amy, with a reprovinglook at the long figure stretched on the rug.

Jo immediately sat up, put her hands in her pockets, and beganto whistle.

"Don't, Jo. It's so boyish!"

"That's why I do it."

"I detest rude, unladylike girls!"

"I hate affected, niminy-piminy chits!"

"Birds in their little nests agree," sang Beth, the peacemaker,with such a funny face that both sharp voices softened to a laugh,and the "pecking" ended for that time.

"Really, girls, you are both to be blamed," said Meg, beginningto lecture in her elder-sisterly fashion. "You are old enough toleave off boyish tricks, and to behave better, Josephine. It didn'tmatter so much when you were a little girl, but now you are sotall, and turn upyour hair, you should remember that you are ayoung lady."

"I'm not! And if turning up my hair makes me one, I'll wear itin two tails till I'm twenty," cried Jo, pulling off her net, andshaking down a chestnut mane. "I hate to think I've got to growup,and be Miss March, and wear long gowns, and look as prim as aChina Aster! It's bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I likeboy's games and work and manners! I can't get over mydisappointment in not being a boy. And it's worse than ever now,for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa. And I can only stay homeand knit, like a poky old woman!"

And Jo shook the blue army sock till the needles rattled likecastanets, and her ball bounded across the room.

"Poor Jo! It's too bad, but it can't be helped. So you must tryto be contented with making your name boyish, and playing brotherto us girls," said Beth, stroking the rough head with a hand thatall the dish washing and dusting in the world could not makeungentle in its touch.

"As for you, Amy," continued Meg,"you are altogether tooparticular and prim. Your airs are funny now, but you'll grow up anaffected little goose, if you don't take care. I like your nicemanners and refined ways of speaking, when you don't try to beelegant. But your absurd words are as bad as Jo's slang."

"If Jo is a tomboy and Amy a goose, what am I, please?" askedBeth, ready to share the lecture.

"You're a dear, and nothing else," answered Meg warmly, and noone contradicted her, for the 'Mouse' was the pet of thefamily.

As young readers like to know 'how people look', we will takethis moment to give them a little sketch of the four sisters, whosat knitting away in the twilight, while the December snow fellquietly without, and the fire crackled cheerfully within. It was acomfortable room, though the carpet was faded and the furniturevery plain, for a good picture or two hung on the walls, booksfilled the recesses, chrysanthemums and Christmas roses bloomed inthe windows, and a pleasant atmosphere of home peace pervadedit.

Margaret, the eldest of the four, was sixteen, and very pretty,being plump and fair, with large eyes, plenty of soft brown hair, asweet mouth, and white hands, of which she was rather vain.Fifteen-year-old Jo was very tall, thin, and brown, and remindedone of a colt, for she never seemed to know what to do with herlong limbs, which were very much in her way. She had a decidedmouth, a comical nose, and sharp, gray eyes, which appeared to seeeverything, and were by turns fierce, funny, or thoughtful.Herlong, thick hair was her one beauty, but it was usually bundledinto a net, to be out of her way. Round shoulders had Jo, big handsand feet, a flyaway look to her clothes, and the uncomfortableappearance of a girl whowas rapidly shooting up into a womananddidn't like it. Elizabeth, or Beth, as everyone called her, was arosy, smooth-haired, bright-eyed girl of thirteen, with a shymanner, a timid voice, and a peaceful expression which was seldomdisturbed. Her father called her 'Little Miss Tranquility', and thename suited her excellently, for she seemed to live in a happyworld of her own, only venturing out to meet the few whom shetrusted and loved. Amy, though the youngest, was a most importantperson, in her own opinion at least. A regular snow maiden, withblue eyes, and yellow hair curling on her shoulders, pale andslender, and always carrying herself like a young lady mindful ofher manners. What the characters of the four sisters were we willleave to be found out.

The clock struck six and, having swept up the hearth, Beth put apair of slippers down to warm. Somehow the sight of the old shoeshad a good effect upon the girls, for Mother was coming, andeveryone brightened to welcome her. Meg stopped lecturing, andlighted the lamp, Amy got outof the easy chair without being asked,and Jo forgot how tired she was as she sat up to hold the slippersnearer to the blaze.

"They are quite worn out. Marmee must have a new pair."

"I thought I'd get her some with my dollar," said Beth.

"No, I shall!" cried Amy.

"I'm the oldest," began Meg, but Jo cut in with a decided, "I'mthe man of the family now Papa is away, and I shall provide theslippers, for he told me to take special care of Mother while hewas gone."

"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Beth,"let's each get hersomething for Christmas, and not get anything for ourselves."

"That's like you, dear! What will we get?" exclaimed Jo.

Everyone thought soberly for a minute, then Meg announced, as ifthe idea was suggested by the sight of her own pretty hands, "Ishall give her a nice pair of gloves."

"Army shoes, best to be had," cried Jo.

"Some handkerchiefs, all hemmed," said Beth.

"I'll get a little bottle of cologne. She likes it, and it won'tcost much, so I'll have some left to buy my pencils," addedAmy.

"How will we give the things?" asked Meg.

"Put them on the table, and bring her in and see her open thebundles. Don't you remember how we used to do on our birthdays?"answered Jo.

"I used to be so frightened when it was my turn to sit inthechair with the crown on, and see you all come marching round togive the presents, with a kiss. I liked the things and the kisses,but it was dreadful to have you sit looking at me while I openedthe bundles," said Beth, who was toasting her face and the breadfor tea at the same time.

"Let Marmee think we are getting things for ourselves, and thensurprise her. We must go shopping tomorrow afternoon, Meg. There isso much to do about the play for Christmas night," said Jo,marching up and down, with her hands behind her back, and her nosein the air.

"I don't mean to act any more after this time. I'm getting tooold for such things," observed Meg, who was as much a child as everabout 'dressing-up' frolics.

"You won't stop, I know, as long as you can trailround in awhite gown with your hair down, and wear gold-paper jewelry. Youare the best actress we've got, and there'll be an end ofeverything if you quit the boards," said Jo. "We ought to rehearsetonight. Come here, Amy, and do the fainting scene, foryou are asstiff as a poker in that."

"I can't help it. I never saw anyone faint, and I don't chooseto make myself all black and blue, tumbling flat as you do. If Ican go down easily, I'll drop. If I can't, I shall fall into achair and be graceful. I don't care if Hugo does come at me with apistol," returned Amy, who was not gifted with dramatic power, butwas chosen because she was small enough to be borne out shriekingby the villain of the piece.

"Do it this way. Clasp your hands so, and stagger across theroom, crying frantically, 'Roderigo! Save me! Save me!'" and awaywent Jo, with a melodramatic scream which was truly thrilling.

Amy followed, but she poked her hands out stiffly before her,and jerked herself along as if she went by machinery, andher "Ow!"was more suggestive of pins being run into her than of fear andanguish. Jo gave a despairing groan, and Meg laughed outright,while Beth let her bread burn as she watched the fun with interest."It's no use! Do the best you can when the time comes, and if theaudience laughs, don't blame me. Come on, Meg."

Then things went smoothly, for Don Pedro defied the world in aspeech of two pages without a single break. Hagar, the witch,chanted an awful incantation over her kettleful of simmeringtoads,with weird effect. Roderigo rent his chains asunder manfully,and Hugo died in agonies of remorse and arsenic, with a wild, "Ha!Ha!"

"It's the best we've had yet," said Meg, as the dead villain satup and rubbed his elbows.

"I don't see how you can writeand act such splendid things, Jo.You're a regular Shakespeare!" exclaimed Beth, who firmly believedthat her sisters were gifted with wonderful genius in allthings.

"Not quite," replied Jo modestly. "I do thinkThe Witches Curse,an Operatic Tragedyisrather a nice thing, but I'd like totryMacbeth, if we only had a trapdoor for Banquo. I alwayswanted todo the killing part. 'Is that a dagger that I see before me?"muttered Jo, rolling her eyes and clutching at the air, as she hadseen a famous tragedian do.

"No, it's the toasting fork, with Mother's shoe on it instead ofthe bread. Beth's stage-struck!" cried Meg, and the rehearsal endedin a general burst of laughter.

"Glad to find you so merry, my girls," said a cheery voice atthe door, and actorsand audience turned to welcome a tall, motherlylady with a 'can I help you' look about her which was trulydelightful. She was not elegantly dressed, but a noble-lookingwoman, and the girls thought the gray cloak and unfashionablebonnet covered the mostsplendid mother in the world.

"Well, dearies, how have you got on today? There was so much todo, getting the boxes ready to go tomorrow, that I didn't come hometo dinner. Has anyone called, Beth? How is your cold, Meg? Jo, youlook tired to death. Comeand kiss me, baby."

While making these maternal inquiries Mrs. March got her wetthings off, her warm slippers on, and sitting down in the easychair, drew Amy to her lap, preparing to enjoy the happiest hour ofher busy day. The girls flew about, trying to make thingscomfortable, each in her own way. Meg arranged the tea table, Jobrought wood and set chairs, dropping, over-turning, and clatteringeverything she touched. Beth trotted to and fro between parlorkitchen, quiet and busy, while Amy gave directions to everyone, asshe sat with her hands folded.

As they gathered about the table, Mrs. March said, with aparticularly happy face, "I've got a treat for you aftersupper."

A quick, bright smile went round like a streak of sunshine. Bethclapped her hands, regardless of the biscuit she held, and Jotossed up her napkin, crying, "A letter! A letter! Three cheers forFather!"

"Yes, a nice long letter. He is well, and thinks he shall getthrough the cold season better than we feared. He sends all sortsof loving wishes for Christmas, and an especial message to yougirls," said Mrs. March, patting her pocket as if she had got atreasure there.

"Hurry and get done! Don't stop to quirk your little finger andsimper over your plate, Amy," cried Jo, choking on her tea anddropping her bread, butter side down, on the carpet in her haste toget at the treat.

Beth ate no more, but crept away to sit in her shadowy cornerand brood over the delight to come, till the others were ready.

"I think it was so splendid in Father to go as chaplain when hewas too old to be drafted, and not strong enough for a soldier,"said Meg warmly.

"Don't I wish I could go as a drummer, a vivan—what's itsname? Or a nurse, so I could be near him and help him," exclaimedJo, with a groan.

"It must be very disagreeable to sleep in a tent, and eat allsorts of bad-tasting things, and drink out of a tin mug," sighedAmy.

"When will he come home, Marmee?" asked Beth, with a littlequiver in her voi...