PREVIOUSLY: The girls dreamed of presents they would get their Mother for Christmas. Jo said they should go shopping at the same time they prepare for their upcoming Christmas play.
“I don’t mean to act any more after this time; I’m getting too old for such things,” observed Meg, who was as much a child as ever about “dressing up” frolics.
Meg, in her heart of hearts
“You won’t stop, I know, as long as you can trail round in a white gown with your hair down, and wear gold-paper jewelry. You are the best actress we’ve got, and there’ll be an end of everything if you quit the boards,” said Jo. “We ought to rehearse tonight; come here, Amy, and do the fainting scene, for you are stiff as a poker in that.”
“I can’t help it; I never saw any one 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 hero of the piece.1
“Do it this way; clasp your hands so, and stagger across the room, crying frantically, ‘Roderigo! Save me! Save me!’” and away went Jo, with a melodramatic scream which was truly thrilling.
Amy [was] not gifted with dramatic power, but was…small enough to be borne out shrieking by the hero of the piece.
Amy followed, but she poked her hands out stiffly before her, and jerked herself along as if she went by machinery; and her “Ow!” was more suggestive of pins being run into her than of fear and anguish. Jo gave a despairing groan, and Meg laughed outright, while Beth let her bread burn as she watched the fun, with interest. 2
“It’s no use! Do the best you can when the time comes, and if the audience shouts, don’t blame me. Come on, Meg”
Then things went smoothly, for Don Pedro defied the world in a speech of two pages without a single break; 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! Ha!”
“It’s the best we’ve had yet,” said Meg, as the dead villain sat up and rubbed his elbows.
“I don’t see how you can write and act such splendid things, Jo. You’re a regular Shakespeare!” exclaimed Beth, who firmly believed that her sisters were gifted with wonderful genius in all things.
1 Start noting these parts in the play because there’s going to be EXTENSIVE revisiting of them in coming chapters. Think of it like supporting your friend who’s playing Billy Flynn at a dinner theater production of “Chicago,” - do you care? No. Is it good? No. Will you have a good time? Extremely no!
2 Starting to get those whiffs here of Beth as the Hopeful Observer, an angelic non-participant in the fun. Goodness that must be snuffed! Snuff it! Snuff snuff snuff!
Very few additions in today’s page! Mostly because there’s no good “ins,” and, additionally, there’s no Marmee mentioned on this page. Relatedly, over in the Death Poll:
The Marmee onslaught continues.
I will admit this works slightly to my favor - throughout the story Marmee is, at turns, away, uninvolved, or unimportant. She starts out important, for sure, but lifts out pretty easily. But we can’t ignore that leaving our heroes to the solo parenting of The World’s Worst Girl Dad is very sad.
Ah well! Whatever happens, happens! See you on Monday, babies!
Your Weekly Death Poll Standings
Hmmmmmm