Books: Jo\'s Boys

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Nan's emphasis on the last word caused Tom to groan, and the rest
to laugh.

'I take great pride and solid satisfaction in you, Nan, and hope to
see you very successful; for we do need just such helpful women
in the world. I sometimes feel as if I've missed my vocation and
ought to have remained single; but my duty seemed to point this
way, and I don't regret it,' said Mrs Jo, folding a large and very
ragged blue sock to her bosom.

'Neither do I. What should I ever have done without my dearest
Mum?' added Ted, with a filial hug which caused both to disappear
behind the newspaper in which he had been mercifully absorbed
for a few minutes.

'My darling boy, if you would wash your hands semi-occasionally,
fond caresses would be less disastrous to my collar. Never mind,
my precious touslehead, better grass stains and dirt than no
cuddlings at all'; and Mrs Jo emerged from that brief eclipse
looking much refreshed, though her back hair was caught in Ted's
buttons and her collar under one ear.

Here Josie, who had been studying her part at the other end of the
piazza, suddenly burst forth with a smothered shriek, and gave
Juliet's speech in the tomb so effectively that the boys applauded,
Daisy shivered, and Nan murmured: 'Too much cerebral
excitement for one of her age.'

'I'm afraid you'll have to make up your mind to it, Meg. That child
is a born actress. We never did anything so well, not even the
Witch's Curse,' said Mrs Jo, casting a bouquet of many-coloured
socks at the feet of her flushed and panting niece, when she fell
gracefully upon the door-mat.

'It is a sort of judgement upon me for my passion for the stage
when a girl. Now I know how dear Marmee felt when I begged to
be an actress. I never can consent, and yet I may be obliged to give
up my wishes, hopes, and plans again.'

There was an accent of reproach in his mother's voice, which made
Demi pick up his sister with a gentle shake, and the stern
command to 'drop that nonsense in public'.

'Drop me, Minion, or I'll give you the Maniac Bride, with my best
Ha-ha!' cried Josie, glaring at him like an offended kitten. Being
set on her feet, she made a splendid courtesy, and dramatically
proclaiming, 'Mrs Woffington's carriage waits,' swept down the
steps and round the corner, trailing Daisy's scarlet shawl
majestically behind her.

'Isn't she great fun? I couldn't stop in this dull place if I hadn't that
child to make it lively for me. If ever she turns prim, I'm off; so
mind how you nip her in the bud,' said Teddy, frowning at Demi,
who was now writing out shorthand notes on the steps.

'You two are a team, and it takes a strong hand to drive you, but I
rather like it. Josie ought to have been my child, and Rob yours,
Meg. Then your house would have been all peace and mine all
Bedlam. Now I must go and tell Laurie the news. Come with me,
Meg, a little stroll will do us good'; and sticking Ted's straw hat on
her head, Mrs Jo walked off with her sister, leaving Daisy to attend
to the muffins, Ted to appease Josie, and Tom and Nan to give
their respective patients a very bad quarter of an hour.

Chapter 2 PARNASSUS

It was well named; and the Muses seemed to be at home that day,
for as the newcomers went up the slope appropriate sights and
sounds greeted them. Passing an open window, they looked in
upon a library presided over by Clio, Calliope, and Urania;
Melpomene and Thalia were disporting themselves in the hall,
where some young people were dancing and rehearsing a play;
Erato was walking in the garden with her lover, and in the
music-room Phoebus himself was drilling a tuneful choir.

A mature Apollo was our old friend Laurie, but comely and genial
as ever; for time had ripened the freakish boy into a noble man.
Care and sorrow, as well as ease and happiness, had done much for
him; and the responsibility of carrying out his grandfather's wishes
had been a duty most faithfully performed. Prosperity suits some
people, and they blossom best in a glow of sunshine; others need
the shade, and are the sweeter for a touch of frost. Laurie was one
of the former sort, and Amy was another; so life had been a kind of
poem to them since they married not only harmonious and happy,
but earnest, useful, and rich in the beautiful benevolence which
can do so much when wealth and wisdom go hand in hand with
charity. Their house was full of unostentatious beauty and comfort,
and here the art-loving host and hostess attracted and entertained
artists of all kinds. Laurie had music enough now, and was a
generous patron to the class he most liked to help. Amy had her
proteges among ambitious young painters and sculptors, and found
her own art double dear as her daughter grew old enough to share
its labours and delights with her; for she was one of those who
prove that women can be faithful wives and mothers without
sacrificing the special gift bestowed upon them for their own
development and the good of others.

Her sisters knew where to find her, and Jo went at once to the
studio, where mother and daughter worked together. Bess was
busy with the bust of a little child, while her mother added the last
touches to a fine head of her husband. Time seemed to have stood
still with Amy, for happiness had kept her young and prosperity
given her the culture she needed. A stately, graceful woman, who
showed how elegant simplicity could be made by the taste with
which she chose her dress and the grace with which she wore it. As
someone said: 'I never know what Mrs Laurence has on, but I
always receive the impression that she is the best-dressed lady in
the room.'

It was evident that she adored her daughter, and well she might;
for the beauty she had longed for seemed, to her fond eyes at least,
to be impersonated in this younger self. Bess inherited her mother's
Diana-like figure, blue eyes, fair skin, and golden hair, tied up in
the same classic knot of curls. Also ah! never-ending source of
joy to Amy she had her father's handsome nose and mouth, cast in
a feminine mould. The severe simplicity of a long linen pinafore
suited her; and she worked away with the entire absorption of the
true artist, unconscious of the loving eyes upon her, till Aunt Jo
came in exclaiming eagerly:

'My dear girls, stop your mud-pies and hear the news!'

Both artists dropped their tools and greeted the irrepressible
woman cordially, though genius had been burning splendidly and
her coming spoilt a precious hour. They were in the full tide of
gossip when Laurie, who had been summoned by Meg, arrived,
and sitting down between the sisters, with no barricade anywhere,
listened with interest to the news of Franz and Emil.

'The epidemic has broke out, and now it will rage and ravage your
flock. Be prepared for every sort of romance and rashness for the
next ten years, Jo. Your boys are growing up and will plunge
headlong into a sea of worse scrapes than any you have had yet,'
said Laurie, enjoying her look of mingled delight and despair.

'I know it, and I hope I shall be able to pull them through and land
them safely; but it's an awful responsibility, for they will come to
me and insist that I can make their poor little loves run smoothly. I
like it, though, and Meg is such a mush of sentiment she revels in
the prospect,' answered Jo, feeling pretty easy about her own boys,
whose youth made them safe for the present.

'I'm afraid she won't revel when our Nat begins to buzz too near
her Daisy. Of course you see what all that means? As musical
director I am also his confidante, and would like to know what
advice to give,' said Laurie soberly. 'Hush! you forget that child,'
began Jo, nodding towards Bess, who was at work again.

'Bless you! she's in Athens, and doesn't hear a word. She ought to
leave off, though, and go out. My darling, put the baby to sleep,
and go for a run. Aunt Meg is in the parlour; go and show her the
new pictures till we come,' added Laurie, looking at his tall girl as
Pygmalion might have looked at Galatea; for he considered her the
finest statue in the house.

'Yes, papa; but please tell me if it is good'; and Bess obediently put
down her tools, with a lingering glance at the bust.

'My cherished daughter, truth compels me to confess that one
cheek is plumper than the other; and the curls upon its infant brow
are rather too much like horns for perfect grace; otherwise it rivals
Raphael's Chanting Cherubs, and I'm proud of it.'

Laurie was laughing as he spoke; for these first attempts were so
like Amy's early ones, it was impossible to regard them as soberly
as the enthusiastic mamma did.

'You can't see beauty in anything but music,' answered Bess,
shaking the golden head that made the one bright spot in the cool
north lights of the great studio.

'Well, I see beauty in you, dear. And if you are not art, what is? 1
wish to put a little more nature into you, and get you away from
this cold clay and marble into the sunshine, to dance and laugh as
the others do. I want a flesh-and-blood girl, not a sweet statue in a
grey pinafore, who forgets everything but her work.' and Bess said
earnestly, punctuating her words with soft touches of her lips:

'I never forget you, papa; but I do want to do something beautiful
that you may be proud of me by and by. Mamma often tells me to
stop; but when we get in here we forget there is any world outside,
we are so busy and so happy. Now I'll go and run and sing, and be
a girl to please you.' And throwing away the apron, Bess vanished
from the room, seeming to take all the light with her.

'I'm glad you said that. The dear child is too much absorbed in her
artistic dreams for one so young. It is my fault; but I sympathize so
deeply in it all, I forget to be wise,' sighed Amy, carefully covering
the baby with a wet towel.

'I think this power of living in our children is one of the sweetest
things in the world; but I try to remember what Marmee once said
to Meg that fathers should have their share in the education of
both girls and boys; so I leave Ted to his father all I can, and Fritz
lends me Rob, whose quiet ways are as restful and good for me as
Ted's tempests are for his father. Now I advise you, Amy, to let
Bess drop the mud-pies for a time, and take up music with Laurie;
then she won't be one-sided, and he won't be jealous.'

'Hear, hear! A Daniel a very Daniel!' cried Laurie, well pleased. 'I
thought you'd lend a hand, Jo, and say a word for me. I am a little
jealous of Amy, and want more of a share in my girl. Come, my
lady, let me have her this summer, and next year, when we go to
Rome, I'll give her up to you and high art. Isn't that a fair bargain?'

'I agree; but in trying your hobby, nature, with music thrown in,
don't forget that, though only fifteen, our Bess is older than most
girls of that age, and cannot be treated like a child. She is so very
precious to me, I feel as if I wanted to keep her always as pure and
beautiful as the marble she loves so well.'

Amy spoke regretfully as she looked about the lovely room where
she had spent so many happy hours with this dear child of hers.

"Turn and turn about is fair play", as we used to say when we all
wanted to ride on Ellen Tree or wear the russet boots,' said Jo
briskly; 'so you must share your girl between you, and see who will
do the most for her.'

'We will,' answered the fond parents, laughing at the recollections
Jo's proverb brought up to them.

'How I did use to enjoy bouncing on the limbs of that old
apple-tree! No real horse ever gave me half the pleasure or the
exercise,' said Amy, looking out of the high window as if she saw
the dear old orchard again and the little girls at play there.

'And what fun I had with those blessed boots!' laughed Jo. 'I've got
the relics now. The boys reduced them to rags; but I love them
still, and would enjoy a good theatrical stalk in them if it were
possible.'

'My fondest memories twine about the warming-pan and the
sausage. What larks we had! And how long ago it seems!' said
Laurie, staring at the two women before him as if he found it hard
to realize that they ever had been little Amy and riotous Jo.

'Don't suggest that we are growing old, my Lord. We have only
bloomed; and a very nice bouquet we make with our buds about
us,' answered Mrs Amy, shaking out the folds of her rosy muslin
with much the air of dainty satisfaction the girl used to show in a
new dress.

'Not to mention our thorns and dead leaves,' added Jo, with a sigh;
for life had never been very easy to her, and even now she had her
troubles both within and without.

'Come and have a dish of tea, old dear, and see what the young
folks are about. You are tired, and want to be "stayed with flagons
and comforted with apples",' said Laurie, offering an arm to each
sister, and leading them away to afternoon tea, which flowed as
freely on Parnassus as the nectar of old.

They found Meg in the summer-parlour, an airy and delightful
room, full now of afternoon sunshine and the rustle of trees; for
the three long windows opened on the garden. The great
music-room was at one end, and at the other, in a deep alcove
hung with purple curtains, a little household shrine had been made.
Three portraits hung there, two marble busts stood in the corners,
and a couch, an oval table, with its urn of flowers, were the only
articles of furniture the nook contained. The busts were John
Brooke and Beth Amy's work both excellent likenesses, and
both full of the placid beauty which always recalls the saying, that
'Clay represents life; plaster, death; marble, immortality'. On the
right, as became the founder of the house, hung the portrait of Mr
Laurence, with its expression of mingled pride and benevolence, as
fresh and attractive as when he caught the girl Jo admiring it.
Opposite was Aunt March a legacy to Amy in an imposing
turban, immense sleeves, and long mittens decorously crossed on
the front of her plum-coloured satin gown. Time had mellowed the
severity of her aspect; and the fixed regard of the handsome old
gentleman opposite seemed to account for the amiable simper on
lips that had not uttered a sharp word for years.

In the place of honour, with the sunshine warm upon it, and a
green garland always round it, was Marmee's beloved face, painted
with grateful skill by a great artist whom she had befriended when
poor and unknown. So beautifully lifelike was it that it seemed to
smile down upon her daughters, saying cheerfully:

'Be happy; I am with you still.'

The three sisters stood a moment looking up at the beloved picture
with eyes full of tender reverence and the longing that never left
them; for this noble mother had been so much to them that no one
could ever fill her place. Only two years since she had gone away
to live and love anew, leaving such a sweet memory behind her
that it was both an inspiration and a comforter to all the household.
They felt this as they drew closer to one another, and Laurie put it
into words as he said earnestly:

'I can ask nothing better for my child than that she may be a
woman like our mother. Please God, she shall be, if I can do it; for
I owe the best I have to this dear saint.'

Just then a fresh voice began to sing 'Ave Maria' in the
music-room, and Bess unconsciously echoed her father's prayer for
her as she dutifully obeyed his wished. The soft sound of the air
Marmee used to sing led the listeners back into the world again
from that momentary reaching after the loved and lost, and they sat
down together near the open windows enjoying the music, while
Laurie brought them tea, making the little service pleasant by the
tender care he gave to it.

Nat came in with Demi, soon followed by Ted and Josie, the
Professor and his faithful Rob, all anxious to hear more about 'the
boys'. The rattle of cups and tongues grew brisk, and the setting
sun saw a cheerful company resting in the bright room after the
varied labours of the day.

Professor I3haer was grey now, but robust and genial as ever; for
he had the work he loved, and did it so heartily that the whole
college felt his beautiful influence. Rob was as much like him as it
was possible for a boy to be, and was already called the 'young
Professor', he so adored study and closely imitated his honoured
father in all ways.

'Well, heart's dearest, we go to have our boys again, all two, and
may rejoice greatly,' said Mr Bhaer, seating himself beside Jo with
a beaming face and a handshake of congratulation.

'Oh, Fritz, I'm so delighted about Emil, and if you approve about
Franz also. Did you know Ludmilla? Is it a wise match?' asked Mrs
Jo, handing him her cup of tea and drawing closer, as if she
welcomed her refuge in joy as well as sorrow.

'It all goes well. I saw the M dchen when I went over to place
Franz. A child then, but most sweet and charming. Blumenthal is
satisfied, I think, and the boy will be happy. He is too German to
be content away from Vaterland, so we shall have him as a link
between the new and the old, and that pleases me much.'

'And Emil, he is to be second mate next voyage; isn't that fine? I'm
so happy that both your boys have done well; you gave up so much
for them and their mother. You make light of it, dear, but I never
forget it,' said Jo, with her hand in his as sentimentally as if she
was a girl again and her Fritz had come a-wooing.

He laughed his cheery laugh, and whispered behind her fan: 'If I
had not come to America for the poor lads, I never should have
found my Jo. The hard times are very sweet now, and I bless Gott
for all I seemed to lose, because I gained the blessing of my life.'

'Spooning! spooning! Here's an awful flirtation on the sly,' cried
Teddy, peering over the fan just at that interesting moment, much
to his mother's confusion and his father's amusement; for the
Professor never was ashamed of the fact that he still considered his
wife the dearest woman in the world. Rob promptly ejected his
brother from one window, to see him skip in at the other, while
Mrs Jo shut her fan and held it ready to rap her unruly boy's
knuckles if he came near her again.

Nat approached in answer to Mr Bhaer's beckoning teaspoon, and
stood before them with a face full of the respectful affection he
felt for the excellent man who had done so much for him.

'I have the letters ready for thee, my son. They are two old friends
of mine in Leipzig, who will befriend thee in that new life. It is
well to have them, for thou wilt be heartbroken with Heimweh at
the first, Nat, and need comforting,' said the Professor, giving him
several letters.

'Thanks, sir. Yes, I expect to be pretty lonely till I get started, then
my music and the hope of getting on will cheer me up,' answered
Nat, who both longed and dreaded to leave all these friends behind
him and make new ones.

He was a man now; but the blue eyes were as honest as ever, the
mouth still a little weak, in spite of the carefully cherished
moustache over it, and the broad forehead more plainly than ever
betrayed the music-loving nature of the youth. Modest,
affectionate, and dutiful, Nat was considered a pleasant though not
a brilliant success by Mrs Jo. She loved and trusted him, and was
sure he would do his best, but did not expect that he would be
great in any way, unless the stimulus of foreign training and
self-dependence made him a better artist and a stronger man than
now seemed likely.

'I've marked all your things or rather, Daisy did and as soon as
your books are collected, we can see about the packing,' said Mrs
Jo, who was so used to fitting boys off for all quarters of the globe
that a trip to the North Pole would not have been too much for her.

Nat grew red at mention of that name~ or was it the last glow of
sunset on his rather pale cheek? and his heart beat happily at the
thought of the dear girl working Ns and Bs on his humble socks
and handkerchiefs; for Nat adored Daisy, and the cherished dream
of his life was to earn a place for himself as a musician and win
this angel for his wife. This hope did more for him than the
Professor's counsels, Mrs Jo's care, or Mr Laurie's generous help.
For her sake he worked, waited, and hoped, finding courage and
patience in the dream of that happy future when Daisy should
make a little home for him and he fiddle a fortune into her lap.
Mrs Jo knew this; and though he was not exactly the man she
would have chosen for her niece, she felt that Nat would always
need just the wise and loving care Daisy could give him, and that
without it there was danger of his being one of the amiable and
aimless men who fail for want of the right pilot to steer them
safely through the world. Mrs Meg decidedly frowned upon the
poor boy's love, and would not hear of giving her dear girl to any
but the best man to be found on the face of the earth. She was very
kind, but as firm as such gentle souls can be; and Nat fled for
comfort to Mrs Jo, who always espoused the interests of her boys
heartily. A new set of anxieties was beginning now that the
aforesaid boys were growing up, and she foresaw no end of worry
as well as amusement in the love-affairs alrcady budding in her
flock. Mrs Meg was usually her best ally and adviser, for she loved
romances as well now as when a blooming girl herself. But in this
case she hardened her heart, and would not hear a word of
entreaty. 'Nat was not man enough, never would be, no one knew
his family, a musician's life was a hard one; Daisy was too young,
five or six years hence when time had proved both perhaps. Let us
see what absence will do for him.' And that was the end of it, for
when the maternal Pelican was roused she could be very firm,
though for her precious children she would have plucked her last
feather and given the last drop of her blood.

Mrs Jo was thinking of this as she looked at Nat while he talked
with her husband about Leipzig, and she resolved to have a clear
understanding with him before he went; for she was used to
confidences, and talked freely with her boys about the trials and
temptations that beset all lives in the beginning, and so often mar
them, for want of the right word at the right moment.

This is the first duty of parents, and no false delicacy should keep
them from the watchful care, the gentle warning, which makes
self-knowledge and self-control the compass and pilot of the young
as they leave the safe harbour of home.

'Plato and his disciples approach,' announced irreverent Teddy, as
Mr March came in with several young men and women about him;
for the wise old man was universally beloved, and ministered so
beautifully to his flock that many of them thanked him all their
lives for the help given to both hearts and souls.

Bess went to him at once; for since Marmee died, Grandpapa was
her special care, and it was sweet to see the golden head bend over
the silver one as she rolled out his easy-chair and waited on him
with tender alacrity.

'Aesthetic tea always on tap here, sir; will you have a flowing bowl
or a bit of ambrosia?' asked Laurie, who was wandering about with
a sugar-basin in one hand and a plate of cake in the other; for
sweetening cups and feeding the hungry was work he loved.

'Neither, thanks; this child has taken care of me'; and Mr March
turned to Bess, who sat on one arm of his chair, holding a glass of
fresh milk.

'Long may she live to do it, sir, and I be here to see this pretty
contradiction of the song that "youth and age cannot live
together"!' answered Laurie, smiling at the pair. "Crabbed age",
papa; that makes all the difference in the world,' said Bess quickly;
for she loved poetry, and read the best.

'Wouldst thou see fresh roses grow

In a reverend bed of snow?'

quoted Mr March, as Josie came and perched on the other arm,
looking like a very thorny little rose; for she had been having a hot
discussion with Ted, and had got the worst of it.

'Grandpa, must women always obey men and say th~y arc the
wi~c~t, ju~t bt~AU~ Ihey are the strongest?' she cried, looking
fiercely at her cousin, who came stalking up with a provoking
smile on the boyish face that was always very comical ~ that tall
ligur~..

'Well, my dear, that is the old-fashioned belief, and it will take
some time to change it. But I think the woman's hour has struck;
and it looks to me as if the boys must do their best, for the girls are
abreast now, and may reach the goal first,' answered Mr March,
surveying with paternal satisfaction the bright faces of the young
women, who were among the best students in the college.

'The poor little Atalantas are sadly distracted and delayed by the
obstacles thrown in their way not golden apples, by any means
but I think they will stand a fair chance when they have learned to
run better,' laughed Uncle Laurie, stroking Josie's breezy hair,
which stood up like the fur of an angry kitten.

'Whole barrels of apples won't stop me when I start, and a dozen
Teds Won't trip me up, though they may try. I'll show him that a
woman can act as well, if not better, than a man. It has been done,
and will be again; and I'll never own that my brain isn't as good as
his, though it may be smaller,' cried the excited young person.

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