PREIVOUSLY: Louisa May Alcott was in the middle of describing Beth’s strange little life - in particular, how she adopted dolls her sisters had abandoned.
Beth cherished them all the more tenderly for that very reason, and set up a hospital for infirm dolls. No pins were ever stuck into their cotton vitals; no harsh words or blows were ever given them; no neglect ever saddened the heart of the most repulsive, but all were fed and clothed, nursed and caressed, with an affection which never failed.
One forlorn fragment of dollanity 1 had once belonged to Jo; and, having led a tempestuous life, was left a wreck in the rag-bag, from which dreary poorhouse it was rescued by Beth. Having no top to its head, she tied on a neat little cap, and as both arms and legs were gone, she hid these deficiencies by folding it in a blanket, and devoting her best bed to this chronic invalid.
If any one had known the care lavished on that dolly, I think it would have touched their hears, even while they laughed. She brought it bits of bouquets; she read to it, took it out to breathe the air, hidden under her coat; she sung it lullabies, and never went to bed without kissing its dirty face, and whispering tenderly, “I hope you’ll have a good night, my poor Captain.”
I know I’ll get my music some time, if I’m good.
Beth had her troubles as well as the others; and not being an angel, but a very human little girl, she often “wept a little weep,” 2 as Jo said, because she couldn’t take music lessons and have a fine piano. She loved music so dearly, tried so hard to learn, and practised away so patiently at the jingling old instrument, that it did seem as if some one (not to hint Aunt March) ought to help her.
Nobody did, however, and nobody saw Beth wipe the tears off the yellow keys that wouldn’t keep in tune when she was all alone. She sung like a little lark about her work, never was too tired to play for Marmee and the girls, and day after day said hopefully to herself, “I know I’ll get my music some time, if I’m good.”
There are many Beths in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully, that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind. 3
1 Quite literally a made-up word.
2 I tend to overuse “she’s just like me fr” when it comes to our gal, but it must needs be said that she’s just like me fr.
3 This sign that says “I Will Kill Beth” won’t stop me, because I can’t read!!