Term papers writing service


An overview of the playing pilgrims and the merry christmas

By Louisa May Alcott

Part 1, Chapter 1: Little Women Lit2Go Edition. Retrieved September 25, 2018, from http: Louisa May Alcott, "Part 1, Chapter 1: The embedded audio player requires a modern internet browser.

You should visit Browse Happy and update your internet browser today! The four young faces on which the firelight shone brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as Jo said sadly, "We haven't got Father, and shall not have him for a long time.

Nobody spoke for a minute; then Meg said in an altered tone, "You know the reason Mother proposed not having any presents this Christmas was because it is going to be a hard winter for everyone; and she thinks we ought not to spend money for pleasure, when our men are suffering so in the army. We can't do much, but we can make our little sacrifices, and ought to do it gladly.

But I am afraid I don't," and Meg shook her head, as she thought regretfully of all the pretty things she wanted. We've each got a dollar, and the army wouldn't be much helped by our giving that. I agree not to expect anything from Mother or you, but I do want to buy Undine and Sintran for myself. I've wanted it so long," said Jo, who was a bookworm. Let's each buy what we want, and have a little fun; I'm sure we work hard enough to earn it," cried Jo, examining the heels of her shoes in a gentlemanly manner.

It makes me cross, and my hands get so stiff, I can't practice well at all. It's proper to use good words, and improve your vocabilary," returned Amy, with dignity. Don't you wish we had the money Papa lost when we were little, Jo?

Chapter Summaries

How happy and good we'd be, if we had no worries! Well, I think we are. For though we do have to work, we make fun of ourselves, and are a pretty jolly set, as Jo would say. Jo immediately sat up, put her hands in her pockets, and began to whistle.

It didn't matter so much when you were a little girl, but now you are so tall, and turn up your hair, you should remember that you are a young lady. And if turning up my hair makes me one, I'll wear it in two tails till I'm twenty," cried Jo, pulling off her net, and shaking down a chestnut mane.

It's bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boy's games and work and manners! I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy. And it's worse than ever now, for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa.

  1. It's proper to use good words, and improve your vocabilary," returned Amy, with dignity.
  2. Meg stopped lecturing, and lighted the lamp, Amy got out of the easy chair without being asked, and Jo forgot how tired she was as she sat up to hold the slippers nearer to the blaze.
  3. The girls decide they would like to become better acquainted with Mr.
  4. Not for many months, dear, unless he is sick.

And I can only stay home and knit, like a poky old woman! It's too bad, but it can't be helped. So you must try to be contented with making your name boyish, and playing brother to us girls," said Beth, stroking the rough head with a hand that all the dish washing and dusting in the world could not make ungentle in its touch.

Your airs are funny now, but you'll grow up an affected little goose, if you don't take care. I like your nice manners and refined ways of speaking, when you don't try to be elegant. But your absurd words are as bad as Jo's slang. As young readers like to know 'how people look', we will take this moment to give them a little sketch of the four sisters, who sat knitting away in the twilight, while the December snow fell quietly without, and the fire crackled cheerfully within.

It was a comfortable room, though the carpet was faded and the furniture very plain, for a good picture or two hung on the walls, books filled the recesses, chrysanthemums and Christmas roses bloomed in the windows, and a pleasant atmosphere of home peace pervaded it.

Margaret, the eldest of the four, was sixteen, and very pretty, being plump and fair, with large eyes, plenty of soft brown hair, a sweet mouth, and white hands, of which she was rather vain.

Fifteen—year—old Jo was very tall, thin, and brown, and reminded one of a colt, for she never seemed to know what to do with her long limbs, which were very much in her way.

  • March said, with a particularly happy face, I've got a treat for you after supper;
  • Notes The first chapter introduces us to each of the March girls and to their mother.

She had a decided mouth, a comical nose, and sharp, gray eyes, which appeared to see everything, and were by turns fierce, funny, or thoughtful.

Her long, thick hair was her one beauty, but it was usually bundled into a net, to be out of her way. Round shoulders had Jo, big hands and feet, a flyaway look to her clothes, and the uncomfortable appearance of a girl who was rapidly shooting up into a woman and didn't like it. Elizabeth, or Beth, as everyone called her, was a rosy, smooth—haired, bright—eyed girl of thirteen, with a shy manner, a timid voice, and a peaceful expression which was seldom disturbed.

Her father called her 'Little Miss Tranquility', and the name suited her excellently, for she seemed to live in a happy world of her own, only venturing out to meet the few whom she trusted and loved. Amy, though the youngest, was a most important person, in her own opinion at least. A regular snow maiden, with blue eyes, and yellow hair curling on her shoulders, pale and slender, and always carrying herself like a young lady mindful of her manners.

What the characters of the four sisters were we will leave to be found out. The clock an overview of the playing pilgrims and the merry christmas six and, having swept up the hearth, Beth put a pair of slippers down to warm.

Somehow the sight of the old shoes had a good effect upon the girls, for Mother was coming, and everyone brightened to welcome her. Meg stopped lecturing, and lighted the lamp, Amy got out of the easy chair without being asked, and Jo forgot how tired she was as she sat up to hold the slippers nearer to the blaze.

Marmee must have a new pair. What will we get?

One more step

Everyone thought soberly for a minute, then Meg announced, as if the idea was suggested by the sight of her own pretty hands, "I shall give her a nice pair of gloves. She likes it, and it won't cost much, so I'll have some left to buy my pencils," added Amy. Don't you remember how we used to do on our birthdays?

I liked the things and the kisses, but it was dreadful to have you sit looking at me while I opened the bundles," said Beth, who was toasting her face and the bread for tea at the same time.

We must go shopping tomorrow afternoon, Meg. There is so much to do about the play for Christmas night," said Jo, marching up and down, with her hands behind her back, and her nose in the air. I'm getting too old for such things," observed Meg, who was as much a child as ever about 'dressing—up' frolics.

You are the best actress we've got, and there'll be an end of everything if you quit the boards," said Jo.

  1. They adopted Jo's plan of dividing the long seams into four parts, and calling the quarters Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and in that way got on capitally, especially when they talked about the different countries as they stitched their way through them. Don't you remember how we used to do on our birthdays?
  2. Come and kiss me, baby.
  3. When will he come home, Marmee? I don't see how you can write and act such splendid things, Jo.
  4. Just before going to bed, the whole family gathers together by the tuneless old piano to sing together.

Come here, Amy, and do the fainting scene, for you are as stiff as a poker in that. I never saw anyone faint, and I don't choose to make myself all black and blue, tumbling flat as you do. If I can go down easily, I'll drop.

If I can't, I shall fall into a chair and be graceful. I don't care if Hugo does come at me with a pistol," returned Amy, who was not gifted with dramatic power, but was chosen because she was small enough to be borne out shrieking by the villain of the piece. Clasp your hands so, and stagger across the room, crying frantically, 'Roderigo!

Amy followed, but she poked her hands out stiffly before her, and jerked herself along as if she went by machinery, and her "Ow!

Why do I have to complete a CAPTCHA?

Jo gave a despairing groan, and Meg laughed outright, while Beth let her bread burn as she watched the fun with interest. Do the best you can when the time comes, and if the audience laughs, don't blame me. Hagar, the witch, chanted an awful incantation over her kettleful of simmering toads, with weird effect. Roderigo rent his chains asunder manfully, and Hugo died in agonies of remorse and arsenic, with a wild, "Ha!

You're a regular Shakespeare! I always wanted to do the killing part. She was not elegantly dressed, but a noble—looking woman, and the girls thought the gray cloak and unfashionable bonnet covered the most splendid mother in the world. There was so much to do, getting the boxes ready to go tomorrow, that I didn't come home to dinner. Has anyone called, Beth? How is your cold, Meg? Jo, you look tired to death. Come and kiss me, baby. March got her wet things off, her warm slippers on, and sitting down in the easy chair, drew Amy to her lap, preparing to enjoy the happiest hour of her busy day.

The girls flew about, trying to make things comfortable, each in her own way. Meg arranged the tea table, Jo brought wood and set chairs, dropping, over—turning, and clattering everything she touched. Beth trotted to and fro between parlor kitchen, quiet and busy, while Amy gave directions to everyone, as she sat with her hands folded. As they gathered about the table, Mrs.

March said, with a particularly happy face, "I've got a treat for you after supper. Beth clapped her hands, regardless of the biscuit she held, and Jo tossed up her napkin, crying, "A letter! Three cheers for Father!

He is well, and thinks he shall get through the cold season better than we feared. He sends all sorts of loving wishes for Christmas, and an especial message to you girls," said Mrs.

March, patting her pocket as if she had got a treasure there. Don't stop to quirk your little finger and simper over your plate, Amy," cried Jo, choking on her tea and dropping her bread, butter side down, on the carpet in her haste to get at the treat. Beth ate no more, but crept away to sit in her shadowy corner and brood over the delight to come, till the others were ready. Or a nurse, so I could be near him and help him," exclaimed Jo, with a groan. He will stay and do his work faithfully as long as he can, and we won't ask for him back a minute sooner than he can be spared.

Now come and hear the letter. Very few letters were written in those hard times that were not touching, especially those which fathers sent home.

In this one little was said of the hardships endured, the dangers faced, or the homesickness conquered. It was a cheerful, hopeful letter, an overview of the playing pilgrims and the merry christmas of lively descriptions of camp life, marches, and military news, and only at the end did the writer's heart over—flow with fatherly love and longing for the little girls an overview of the playing pilgrims and the merry christmas home.

Tell them I think of them by day, pray for them by night, and find my best comfort in their affection at all times. A year seems very long to wait before I see them, but remind them that while we wait we may all work, so that these hard days need not be wasted. I know they will remember all I said to them, that they will be loving children to you, will do their duty faithfully, fight their bosom enemies bravely, and conquer themselves so beautifully that when I come back to them I may be fonder and prouder than ever of my little women.

Jo wasn't ashamed of the great tear that dropped off the end of her nose, and Amy never minded the rumpling of her curls as she hid her face on her mother's shoulder and sobbed out, "I am a selfish girl!