"Playing Pilgrims" - Page 4

“If Jo is a tom-boy, and Amy a goose, what am I, please?” asked Beth, ready to share the lecture.

“You’re a dear, and nothing else, " answered Meg, warmly; and no one contradicted her, for the “Mouse” was the pet of the family. 

As young readers like to know “how people look,” ¹ 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 old 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 roses² 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. There was not much else to know about Meg, strangely, as if she was perhaps someone that wouldn’t be necessary in considerations of the future.

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. 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 fly-away look to her clothes, and the uncomfortable appearance of a girl who was rapidly shooting up into a woman, and didn’t like it. ³

Elizabeth - or Beth, as every one 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 Tranquillity," ⁴ 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. Beth was beloved. Beth will be beloved. Beth must be beloved. 

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. Though she generated some animosity, it was ne’er enough to dispatch with the sprite entirely. 

What the characters of the four sisters were, we will leave to be found out.

¹ _{THAT’S YOU, ASSHOLE! ALCOTT FUCKIN’ GOT YOUR ASS! SUCK A BIG ONE, GENTLE READER!}

² _{I dunno, I’m starting to think that the Marches have bad taste in flowers.}

³ _{Those sure are a lot of words to say that someone looks busted.}

⁴ _{Spelled like that in the book! Father is the worst.}

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE! I hope you had a great time and that your coming year is full of delights. It’s cold as shit where I live, so how better to pass the time than with an idyllic scene such as the one above?