Burdens (Little Women (Full Cast))

01Chapter 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 merry-making did not fit her for going on easily with the tasks she never liked.

02I wish it was Christmas or New Year's all the time.

03Wouldn't it be fun?

04answered Joe, yawning dismally.

05We shouldn't enjoy ourselves half so much as we do now.

06But 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.

07It's like other people, you know, and I always envy girls who do such things.

08I'm so fond of luxury," said Meg, trying to decide which of two shabby gowns was the least shabby.

09Well, we can't have it, so don't let us grumble, but shoulder our bundles and trudge along as cheerfully as Marmy does.

10I'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.

11This idea tickled Joe's fancy and put her in good spirits.

12But Meg didn't brighten, for her burden, consisting of four spoiled children, seemed heavier than ever.

13She 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.

14What'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?

15she muttered, shutting her drawer with a jerk.

16I 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.

17It's a shame.

18So Meg went down wearing an injured look and wasn't at all agreeable at breakfast time.

19Everyone seemed rather out of sorts and inclined to croak.

20Beth had a headache and lay on the sofa, trying to comfort herself with the cat and three kittens.

21Amy was fretting because her lessons were not learned and she couldn't find her rubbers.

22Joe would whistle and make a great racket getting ready.

23Mrs.

24March 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.

25There never was such a cross family, cried Joe, losing her temper when she had upset an inkstand, broken both boot lacings, and sat down upon her hat.

26You'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.

27Beth, 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.

28Joe laughed, Meg scolded, Beth implored, and Amy wailed because she couldn't remember how much nine times twelve was.

29Girls, girls, do be quiet one minute.

30I must get this off by the early mail and you drive me distracted with your worry, cried Mrs.

31March, crossing out the third spoiled sentence in her letter.

32There was a momentary lull, broken by Hannah, who stalked in, laid two hot turnovers on the table, and stalked out again.

33These 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.

34Hannah never forgot to make them, no matter how busy or grumpy she might be, for the walk was long and bleak.

35The poor things got no other lunch, and were seldom home before two.

36Cuddle your cats and get over your headache, Bethy.

37Good-bye, Marmy.

38We are a set of rascals this morning, but will come home regular angels.

39Now then, Meg." And Joe tramped away, feeling that the pilgrims were not setting out as they ought to do.

40They 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.

41Somehow 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.

42If Marmy 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 Joe, taking a remorseful satisfaction in the snowy walk and bitter wind.

43Come home, jolly.

44There's a dear." Joe 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.

45When Mr.

46March 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.

47Believing 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.

48Margaret found a place as nursery governess, and felt rich with her small salary.

49As she said, she was fond of luxury, and her chief trouble was poverty.

50She 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.

51She 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.

52At the King's 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 theatres, concerts, slaying-parties, and merry-makings of all kinds, and saw money lavished on trifles which would have been so precious to her.

53Poor Meg seldom complained, but a sense of injustice made her feel bitter toward every one sometimes, for she had not yet learned to know how rich she was in the blessings which alone can make life happy.

54Joe happened to suit Aunt March, who was lame and needed an active person to wait upon her.

55The childless old lady had offered to adopt one of the girls when the troubles came, and was much offended because her offer was declined.

56Other 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.

57Rich or poor, we will keep together and be happy in one another.

58The old lady wouldn't speak to them for a time, but happening to meet Joe at a friend's, something in her comical face and blunt manner struck the old lady's fancy, and she proposed to take her for a companion.

59This did not suit Joe at all, but she accepted the place, since nothing better appeared, and to everyone's surprise got on remarkably well with her irascible relative.

60There was an occasional tempest, and once Joe 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.

61I suspect that the real attraction was a large library of fine books, which was left to dust and spider since Uncle March died.

62Joe 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.

63The dim, dusty room, with the busts staring down from the tall bookcases, the cosy 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.

64The moment Aunt March took her nap or was busy with company, Joe hurried to this quiet place, and curling herself up in the easy-chair, devoured poetry, romance, history, travels, and pictures like a regular bookworm.

65But, 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 traveller, a shrill voice called, Josephine, Josephine, and she had to leave her paradise to wind yarn, wash the poodle, or read Belsham's essays by the hour together.

66Joe's ambition was to do something very splendid.

67What 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.

68A 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.

69But 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— Josephine!

70Beth was too bashful to go to school.

71It had been tried, but she suffered so much that it was given up, and she did her lessons at home with her father.

72Even when he went away and her mother was called to devote her skill and energy to soldiers' aid societies, Beth went on faithfully by herself and did the best she could.

73She 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.

74Long, 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.

75There 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.

76Not one whole or handsome among them.

77All 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.

78Beth cherished them all the more tenderly for that very reason, and set up a hospital for infirm dolls.

79No 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.

80One forlorn fragment of doll had belonged to Joe, 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.

81Having 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.

82If any one had known the care lavished on that dolly, I think it would have touched their hearts, even while they laughed.

83She 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 Joe said, because she couldn't take music lessons and have a fine piano.

84She loved music so dearly, tried so hard to learn, and practised away so patiently at the jingling old instrument, that it did seem as if some one, not to hint Aunt March, ought to help her.

85Nobody did, however, and nobody saw Beth wipe the tears off the yellow keys that wouldn't keep in tune when she was all alone.

86She 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 this 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.

87If 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, Joe had accidentally dropped her into the coal-hod, and Amy insisted that the fall had ruined her nose for ever.

88It was not big nor red like poor Petraeus, it was only rather flat, and all the pinching in the world could not give it an aristocratic point.

89No 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.

90Little 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.

91Her 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 her books at unlucky moments.

92She got through her lessons as well as she could, and managed to escape reprimands by being a model of deportment.

93She was a great favourite with her mates, being good-tempered and possessing the happy art of pleasing without effort.

94Her 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.

95She 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.

96Amy was in a fair way to be spoiled, for every one petted her, and her small vanities and selfishnesses were growing nicely.

97One thing, however, rather quenched the vanities.

98She had to wear her cousin's clothes.

99Now 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.

100Everything 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.

101It was gentle Beth's.

102To Joe alone did the shy child tell her thoughts, and over her big harem-scarrem sister Beth unconsciously exercised more influence than any one in the family.

103The 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.

104Has anybody got anything to tell?

105It's been such a dismal day I'm really dying for some amusement," said Meg, as they sat sewing together that evening.

106"'I had a queer time with Aunt today, and as I got the best of it I'll tell you about it,' began Joe, who dearly loved to tell stories.

107"'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.

108I 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.

109I wish I could and be done with it,' said I, trying not to be saucy.

110Then 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.

111She 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.

112I just got to where they all tumbled into the water when I forgot and laughed out loud.

113Aunt 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.

114I did my very best, and she liked it, though she only said, "'I don't understand what it's all about.

115Go back and begin it, child.' Back I went and made the primroses as interesting as ever I could.

116Once I was wicked enough to stop in a thrilling place and say meekly, "'I am afraid it tires you, ma'am.

117Sha'n'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.

118"'Oh, bless you, no.

119But she let old Belsham rest.

120And 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.

121What a pleasant life she might have if only she chose.

122I 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 Joe.

123"'That reminds me,' said Meg, "'that I've got something to tell.

124It isn't funny, like Joe's story, but I thought about it a good deal as I came home.

125At the King's to-day 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.

126I heard Mrs.

127King crying and Mr.

128King 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.

129I 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.

130"'Susie Perkins came to school to-day with a lovely red carnelian ring.

131I wanted it dreadfully and wished I was her with all my might.

132Well, she drew a picture of Mr.

133Davis 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.

134We were laughing over it when all of a sudden his eye was on us, and he ordered Susie to bring up her slate.

135She was paralyzed with fright, but she went.

136And, oh, what do you think he did?

137He took her by the ear—the ear!

138Just 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 Joe, who relished the scrape.

139"'Laugh?

140Not one.

141They sat still as mice, and Susie cried quartz.

142I know she did.

143I didn't envy her then, for I felt that millions of carnelian rings wouldn't have made me happy after that.

144I never should have got over such an 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.

145"'I saw something I liked this morning, and I meant to tell it at dinner.

146But I forgot,' said Beth, putting Joe's topsy-turvy basket in order as she talked.

147"'When I went to get some oysters for Hannah.

148Mr.

149Lawrence was in the fish shop.

150But he didn't see me, for I kept behind the fish barrel.

151And he was busy with Mr.

152Cutter the fish man.

153A poor woman came in with a pail and a mop, and asked Mr.

154Cutter 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.

155Mr.

156Cutter was in a hurry and said no rather crossly.

157So she was going away, looking hungry and sorry, when Mr.

158Lawrence hooked up a big fish with the crooked end of his cane, and held it out to her.

159She was so glad and surprised she took it right into her arms, and thanked him over and over.

160He told her to go along and cook it, and she hurried off so happy.

161Wasn't it good of him?

162Oh, she did look so funny hugging the big slippery fish, and hoping Mr.

163Lawrence's bed in heaven would be easy.' 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 to-day at the rooms, I felt very anxious about Father, and thought how lonely and helpless we should be if anything happened to him.

164It was not a wise thing to do, but I kept on worrying till an old man came in with an order for some clothes.

165He sat down near me, and I began to talk to him, for he looked poor and tired and anxious.

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

167"'Yes, ma'am.

168I had four, but two were killed.

169One is a prisoner, and I'm going to the other, who is very sick in a Washington hospital,' he answered quietly.

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

171"'Not a mite more than a mite, ma'am.

172I'd go myself if I was any use.

173As I ain't, I give my boys and give them free.' He spoke so cheerfully, looked so sincere, and seemed so glad to give his all, that I was ashamed of myself.

174I'd given one man and thought it too much, while he gave four without grudging them.

175I had all my girls to comfort me at home, and his last son was waiting, miles away, to say good-bye to him, perhaps.

176I 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.

177"'Tell another story, mother, one with a moral to it like this.

178I like to think about them afterward, if they are real and not too preachy,' said Joe, after a minute's silence.

179Mrs.

180March smiled and began at once, for she had told stories to this little audience for many years, and knew how to please them.

181Once 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.

182Here the listeners stole sly looks at one another, and began to sew diligently.

183These 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,' quite forgetting how much they already had, and how many things they actually could do.

184So they asked an old woman what spell they could use to make them happy, and she said, "'When you feel discontented, think over your blessings, and be grateful.' Here Joe looked up quickly as if about to speak, but changed her mind, seeing that the story was not done yet.

185Being sensible girls, they decided to try her advice, and soon were surprised to see how well off they were.

186One discovered that money couldn't keep shame and sorrow out of rich people's houses.

187Another that, though she was poor, she was a great deal happier with her youth, health, and good spirits, than a certain fretful feeble old lady who couldn't enjoy her comforts.

188A third that, disagreeable as it was to help get dinner, it was harder still to go begging for it.

189And the fourth, that even carnelian rings were not so valuable as good behaviour.

190So they agreed to stop complaining, to enjoy the blessings already possessed, and try to deserve them, lest they should be taken away entirely, instead of increased.

191And I believe they were never disappointed or sorry that they took the old woman's advice.

192"'Now, Marmee, that is very cunning of you to turn our own stories against us, and give us a sermon instead of a romance,' cried Meg.

193"'I like that kind of sermon.

194It's the sort father used to tell us,' said Beth thoughtfully, putting the needle straight on Joe's cushion.

195"'I don't complain near as much as the others do.

196And I shall be more careful than ever now, for I've had warning from Susie's downfall,' said Amy morally.

197"'We needed that lesson, and we won't forget it.

198If we do so, you just say to us,' as old Chloe did in Uncle Tom, "'Tink of your mercy's, chillin', tink of your mercy's,' added Joe, who could not, for the life of her, help getting a morsel of fun out of the little sermon, though she took it to heart as much as any of them." End of chapter 4