Little Women

At Christmas the four March girls decide that they will all try hard to be good, and never to be cross, or lazy, or selfish again. Meg, the oldest, won’t complain about her job or not having pretty dresses. Jo won’t argue and get angry and run wild like a boy. Shy Beth will try hard to be braver, and little Amy will think less of herself and more of other people.

They don’t always succeed, of course, and sometimes there are arguments and secrets and angry tears. But there is also laughter and fun, and soon a new friend – Laurie, the rich and lonely boy next door.

Many troubles and difficulties lie in the year ahead – and the girls are growing up. Wild Jo hates the idea of being a polite young lady, but Meg will soon be seventeen, and ready to fall in love…

‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,’ said Jo crossly.

‘It’s so awful to be poor!’ agreed Meg, looking at her old dress.

‘It’s not right for some girls to have pretty things, and others to have nothing at all,’ said little Amy.

‘We’ve got Father and Mother, and each other,’ said Beth gently.

The four young faces round the fire cheered up as they thought of this, but then Jo said sadly, ‘We haven’t got Father, and we won’t have him for a long time.’ She didn’t say ‘perhaps never’, but each silently thought it, remembering that he was away at the war in the South.

Then Meg said, ‘Mother says we shouldn’t spend money on presents when our men are fighting a war.’

‘We can’t expect anything from Mother or each other,’ said Jo, ‘but we only have a dollar each, and that won’t help the army much. Let’s each buy ourselves what we want, and have a little fun. We work hard to earn it.’

‘I do, teaching those awful children,’ said Meg.

‘What about me?’ said Jo. ‘I’m shut up all day working for a terrible old lady, who gives me different orders every five seconds!’

‘I think washing cups and plates and keeping things tidy is the worst work in the world,’ said Beth. ‘My hands get too tired to play my music.’

‘I have to go to school with girls who laugh at my dresses and say cruel things because my father isn’t rich,’ said Amy.

‘I wish we had the money Father lost when we were little, Jo,’ said Meg.

‘I wish I was a boy,’ said Jo. ‘Then I could go and fight beside Father!’

Meg was sixteen and very pretty, with large eyes and soft brown hair, and white hands. Fifteen-year-old Jo was very tall and thin. Her long, dark-red hair was usually pushed up out of the way. Beth was thirteen, a very shy girl who seemed to live in a happy world of her own. Amy was the youngest, but thought herself to be the most important. She had blue eyes, and yellow hair which curled on to her shoulders.

At six o’clock, Beth put a pair of slippers by the fire to warm and Meg lit the lamp. Amy got out of the comfortable chair without being asked, and Jo forgot how tired she was and held the slippers closer to the fire.

‘These are old,’ she said. ‘Mother needs a new pair.’

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