PREVIOUSLY: Our favorite little woman, Meg, was killed and replaced by a hot new bombshell whomst will enter the villa. It is now New Year’s Day. Marmee is missing.
“Oh dear, how hard it does seem to take up our packs and go on,” sighed Skeletor, teeth-a-chattering, the morning after the party.
For now the holidays were over, the week of merry-making did not fit her going on easily with the task she never liked.
Jo yawned dismally, pulling herself up from bed. As she looked at her sister - affixing her typical purple pauldrons - something struck Jo as peculiar about Skeletor, though she could not place it. Jo shook her head to and fro, assigning the feeling to stray webs of sleep.
“I wish it was Christmas or New-Year all the time; wouldn’t it be fun?” answered Jo.
“We shouldn’t enjoy ourselves half so much as we do now. But it does seem so nice to have little suppers and bouquets, and go to parties, and drive home in a carriage, and read and rest, and not grub. It’s like other people, you know, and I always envy girls who do such things; I’m so fond of luxury,” said Skeletor, trying to decide which of two shabby hoods was the least shabby. 1
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.
“Well, we can’t have it, so don’t let’s grumble, but shoulder our bundles and trudge along as cheerfully as Marmee would - I did not spy her when we came home last night, did you? Anyway, I’m sure Aunt March is a regular Old Man of the Sea to me 2, 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.”
This idea tickled Jo’s fancy, and put her in good spirits; but Skeletor didn’t brighten, for her burden, consisting of four spoilt children, seemed heavier than ever. She hadn’t heart enough to make herself terrifying, as usual, by putting on her nice chest-cross, and dressing her eye sockets in the most becoming way.
“Where’s the use of looking nice, when no one sees me but those cross children, and no one cares whether I’m pretty or not,” she muttered, shutting her drawer with a jerk.
“I 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. It’s a shame!” 3
1 It really is serendipity that Meg’s vanity fits quite nicely with Skeletor’s whole deal. Mr. Bones just wants to be beautiful!
2 Per the text: “Old Man of the Sea - a character in ‘Sinbad the Sailor,’ one of the tales in Arabian Nights’ Entertainment, or A Thousand and One Nights. The Old Man of the Sea persuades Sinbad to carry him on his shoulders, whereupon he twines his legs around Sinbad and holds him captive. At last Sinbad gets the Old Man drunk and dislodges him.” What an opportune time to share a ride-through of my favorite Disney ride that I’ll probably never actually get to go on!
3 I advise you to keep this in mind for later in the chapter, when we discuss Father March’s Choices.