PREVIOUSLY: We met Aunt March and found out what her whole Deal was. Jo complains about having to go over there to take care of her all the time.
I suspect 1 that the real attraction was a large library of fine books, which was left to dust and spiders since Uncle March died. Jo remembered the kind old gentleman who used to let her build railroads and bridges with his big dictionaries, tell her stories about the queer pictures in his Latin books, and buy her cards of gingerbread whenever he met her in the street.
The dim, dusty room, with the busts staring down from the tall book-cases, 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. The moment Aunt March took her nap, or was busy with company, Jo hurried to this quiet place, and, curling herself up in the big chair, devoured poetry, romance, history, travels, and pictures, like a regular book-worm.
But, 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 the song, or the most perilous adventure of her traveller, a shrill voice called, “Josy-phine! Josy-phine!” and she had to leave her paradise to wind yarn, wash the poodle, or read Belsham’s Essays, by the hour together. 2
Jo’s ambition was to do something very splendid; what it was she had no idea 3, 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. A 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. But the training she received at Aunt March’s was just what she needed.
She 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.
Beth was too bashful to go to school; 4 it had been tried, but she suffered so much that it was given up, and she did her lessons at home, with her father. Even when he went away, and her mother was called to devote her skill and energy to Soldiers’ Aid Societies, Beth went faithfully on by herself, and did the best she could.
She 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. Long, 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. There 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; not one whole or handsome one among them; all 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.
1 “I” is Louisa. Hello, Louisa!
2 Per the text: “Belsham’s Essays: William Belsham (1752-1827), and English political writer and historian, known for his clear style and liberal thought, was popular in America since he had justified American resistance to England. His Essays, Philosophical, Historical, and Literary were first published in two volumes in 1789-91.” Very boring, thank you.
3 Who among us does not dream of the idea of accomplishment? Be careful Josephine, this is how you end up in grad school.
4 I too often bring this up as a solution to life’s problems, but never has a character been more in need of a piece of cheese dotted with 100mg of Zoloft.