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 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 
 
 DREAMER AND WORKER
 
 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 
 
 DREAMER AND WORKER 
 
 A STORY OF ACHIEVEMENT 
 
 BY 
 
 BELLE MOSES 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 
 1909
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 Published October, 1909
 
 FS 
 
 TO 
 MY MOTHER 
 
 WHO HAS BEEN TO HER CHILDREN 
 
 WHAT "MARMEE" WAS TO HER 
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN"
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT occupies niche peculiarly 
 her own in the hearts of American girls. No 
 writer of fiction, before her time or since, has been 
 able to touch the responsive chord that Miss Alcott 
 struck in " Little Women " and the many succeed- 
 ing girls' stories. Her charm lay, not in plot nor 
 excitement, but in the natural, healthy, everyday 
 life she spread out before her readers. Incidents 
 drawn freely from her own and her sisters' lives 
 formed the framework of " Little Women," and 
 through her stories, long or short, runs this vein of 
 reality. 
 
 From her obscurity as a struggling author she 
 sprang to the first place, and her name has since be- 
 come a household word. And so I should like to 
 introduce Miss Alcott to her girl friends as a girl 
 like themselves, who worked, who struggled, and 
 who conquered by sheer force of energy and perse- 
 verance, not by the great things she did, but by the 
 little things that counted most. Forty years ago 
 " Little Women " made its bow to the world, and 
 forty years hence it will still be found on our girls' 
 bookshelves, as fresh and vigorous as ever.
 
 viii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Miss Alcott wrote as Shakespeare did, for all time 
 and all generations. The element of immortal youth 
 is in all her work, and abounds throughout the story 
 of her life, which the following pages will strive 
 to tell. 
 
 In the preparation of the book I have been in- 
 debted to Messrs. Little, Brown & Co., The Ladies' 
 Home Journal, my brother, Montrose J. Moses, and 
 the writings of Mrs. Cheney, Mrs. Porter, Mrs. 
 Clarke, F. B. Sanborn, Miss Cate, and others, 
 whose intimate knowledge of the author and her 
 life has been of great assistance to me. 
 
 BELLE MOSES. 
 
 NEW YORK, June, 1909.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. LOUISA MAY ARRIVES i 
 
 II. A SIMPLE LIFE 19 
 
 III. THE HEART OF A GIRL 40 
 
 IV. SEEKING A VOCATION 54 
 
 V. AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR 70 
 
 VI. "LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP ... 88 
 
 VII. PROGRESS AND POVERTY 103 
 
 VIII. THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE . . . 120 
 
 IX. LOUISA TO THE FRONT 138 
 
 X. RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD . . .158 
 
 XI. "LITTLE WOMEN" 177 
 
 XII. "WHO'S WHO?" 194 
 
 XIII. "SHAWL STRAPS" 211 
 
 XIV. THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN" . . .232 
 
 XV. PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY . . . .251 
 
 XVI. MORE LITERARY CHILDREN . . . .273 
 
 XVII. NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS . . 295 
 
 XVIII. A LOVING MEMORY 315
 
 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 
 
 JOVEMBER'S child of many moods ar- 
 rived on the 2Qth day, 1832, sharing- the 
 birthday of her father and Christopher 
 Columbus, if we can believe the records, 
 and she first opened her eyes in a large, square, old- 
 fashioned house in old-fashioned Germantown, not 
 far from Philadelphia. It was somewhat off the 
 main street, and was known as The Pinery or Pine 
 Place, because of the pines surrounding it, so 
 Louisa's tiny nose sniffed the sweet, pungent odor 
 before she even thought it worth while to take a 
 peep at the world. 
 
 Her father and mother, being old-fashioned peo- 
 ple, were delighted with the new baby, who would 
 be such a fine playmate for little Anna, just two 
 years old, and though they were as poor as poor 
 could be, they welcomed the newcomer with all 
 their loving hearts, little dreaming that she would 
 prove to be a regular fairy luck child.
 
 2 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 The first thing she did of any consequence was 
 to send her regards to her grandfather, Colonel 
 May, to whom Mr. Alcott wrote at once, announc- 
 ing her arrival. At the end of the letter he says: 
 
 "With Abba's [Mrs. Alcott's], Anna's, and 
 Louisa's regards, allow me to assure you of the 
 sincerity with which I am, 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " A. BRONSON ALCOTT." 
 
 How quaint and stiff and formal those old-time 
 letters were ! 
 
 By all accounts Louisa was a beautiful baby, a de- 
 light to play with, to cuddle, and to kiss. And 
 though Germantown happened by accident to be her 
 birthplace, she was from the crown of her head 
 to the toes of her active feet of sturdy New Eng- 
 land stuff. 
 
 Her father, Amos Bronson Alcott, was born in 
 1799, thirty-three years before Louisa came, at the 
 foot of Spindle Hill, in the region called New Con- 
 necticut. His family name in the old English rec- 
 ords had been Alcocke, and belonged to a line of 
 English gentlemen who came over to America and 
 took up farming in New England. Some called the 
 name Alcox, but when Amos Bronson and his 
 cousin William set out to seek their fortunes, they 
 changed it to Alcott; while another branch of the 
 family called themselves Olcott. 
 
 Mrs. Alcott was the twelfth and youngest child
 
 LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 3 
 
 of Colonel Joseph May, and was related also to the 
 Quinceys and Sewalls of Massachusetts fame. Her 
 brother, Samuel J. May, was a Unitarian minister, 
 and a very prominent man in his day a day of 
 many great men. Mrs. Alcott was a woman of 
 grace and refinement, so little Louisa and her sisters, 
 the four " Little Women " Meg, Jo, Beth, and 
 Amy so dear to every girl's heart, had a rich heri- 
 tage by birth, no matter how little they had of other 
 riches. 
 
 Mr. Alcott was teaching school when Louisa was 
 born, but he had new ways of teaching which the 
 stolid Germantown people did not like, so his school 
 was not successful, and he moved to Boston when 
 Louisa was two years old a chubby little mischief, 
 who " got lost " on her very first journey. 
 
 They traveled by boat from Philadelphia to Bos- 
 ton ; Anna and Louisa, spick and span, in clean nan- 
 keen suits, when it was suddenly discovered that 
 Louisa was missing. High and low they searched, 
 until at last they found her in the engine room, 
 placidly poking into places that were " all nice and 
 dirty " looking, no doubt, " all nice and dirty," 
 too. How she came there she never explained ; she 
 might have been on a voyage of discovery, or made 
 friends with the engine man, or wanted to " see the 
 wheels go round," for she was of a most inquiring 
 mind, but at any rate she had enjoyed herself. 
 
 In Boston the real home life began. It would 
 have been hard to find a happier couple than Mr.
 
 4 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Alcott and his wife, and the two little girls grew 
 and expanded in an atmosphere of love and intelli- 
 gence. Mr. Alcott became head of the Temple 
 School, where he felt free to teach his new ideas in 
 his own way; but Louisa was too young to attend 
 school except for an occasional visit, though her 
 education began at an unusually early age. Kinder- 
 gartens were unknown in those days, yet Mr. Al- 
 cott was ahead of his time and had real kindergarten 
 ideas about making study pleasant for the children, 
 whose quick minds flew to knowledge. Two more 
 little girls were added to the family group. Eliza- 
 beth, the Beth of " Little Women," was born 
 during the six years spent in Boston; there was 
 also a tiny boy who never lived; then came Abbey 
 May, the baby and pet of the family, Amy in the 
 story, who was born in the happy Concord days 
 that immediately followed the unfortunate years 
 in Boston. 
 
 Louisa at a very early age began to have 
 " thinks," one could scarcely call them thoughts, for 
 they went on all the time and were too large and 
 indefinite to classify. This small person, in moments 
 when her animal spirits were not leading her into 
 paths of strange adventure, was much given to re- 
 flection ; her little soul was a turbulent, unruly thing ; 
 she was often sad because of it, and had her fits of 
 gloom like many an older person. But a whiff of 
 fresh air, a kindly word, the sense of human com- 
 panionship and sympathy, worked a magic cure, and
 
 LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 5 
 
 she would be once more the hearty, happy child, who 
 " loved everybody in dis whole world." 
 
 Such a nature as hers could not have had two 
 better guides. Her father encouraged this habit of 
 reflection, and discussed her small troubles with her 
 as gravely as he handled heavier matters, while her 
 mother steered her safely through the practical de- 
 tails of her daily life, each fired with the unselfish 
 desire to give the best to the little girl. 
 
 From the time they could guide their pens and 
 put their thoughts on paper, the Alcott children were 
 required to keep a journal and write down freely 
 their thoughts and doings from day to day. These 
 journals were always open for inspection and guid- 
 ing criticism from both father and mother, and be- 
 came fine records of the growth of mind and char- 
 acter. 
 
 Food for the mind was placed first in Mr. Alcott's 
 ideas of education. It was his conviction that the 
 simplest food for the body produced the highest 
 thinking and living, and the children were brought 
 up on this principle. " Goodies " such as children 
 love never came their way, unless in the shape of 
 fruits. What was plucked from trees or plants or 
 dug from the ground was healthy, natural food in 
 his opinion, while he considered it wrong to eat and 
 enjoy anything which had to be killed for the pur- 
 pose. But during the Boston days, when the chil- 
 dren were too young to be reasoned with, they found 
 that rice without sugar, and Graham meal minus
 
 6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 butter or molasses, was most uninteresting fare and 
 extremely tiresome. A lady friend, who chanced 
 to be living in luxury at a hotel in Boston, fell into 
 the habit of saving delicious bits of pie and cake for 
 the young Alcotts, and Louisa often carried j. -n 
 home in a bandbox, which she brought for tn<tt 
 purpose. Years afterwards, when she became fa- 
 mous, she met this friend in the street and greeted 
 her cordially. 
 
 " Why, my dear ! " exclaimed the old lady, " I 
 did not think you would remember me." 
 
 " Do you think I shall ever forget that band- 
 box ? " replied Louisa quickly. 
 
 Still it seems highly improbable that Mr. Alcott 
 deprived his children entirely of meat, for in his 
 diary, in speaking of their healthy appetites, he says 
 of Louisa : " She enjoys her food, partaking of 
 animal food with great relish." 
 
 Her first memory of herself is of playing with 
 the books in her father's study, " building houses 
 and bridges of the big dictionaries and diaries, look- 
 ing at pictures, pretending to read, and scribbling on 
 blank pages, whenever pen or pencil could be found." 
 
 " On one occasion," she says, in a sketch of her 
 childhood, " we built a high tower around baby Liz- 
 zie, as she sat playing with her toys on the floor, and 
 being attracted by something out of doors, forgot 
 our little prisoner. A search was made, and patient 
 baby at last discovered curled up and fast asleep in 
 her dungeon cell, out of which she emerged so rosy
 
 LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 7 
 
 and smiling after her nap, that we were forgiven 
 for our carelessness." 
 
 The Alcotts always celebrated their birthdays with 
 great enthusiasm. The gifts were hidden from 
 vie*/, the queen of the festival was escorted to the 
 seat of honor to the sound of a march, always a 
 moment of overwhelming embarrassment, until the 
 packages were opened and thanks and kisses sprin- 
 kled liberally. Louisa's memory of her fourth birth- 
 day is very vivid; she celebrated it in her father's 
 schoolroom at Masonic Temple. She wore a crown 
 of flowers and stood on a table to receive congratula- 
 tions from all the children. As each of her guests 
 passed by, the " birthday girl " bestowed a small 
 cake, but by some accident the cakes fell short, and 
 when Louisa came to the last one it was suddenly 
 borne in upon her that if she gave it away she would 
 have none left for herself. This seemed most unjust 
 as it was her birthday, but a few wise words from 
 her mother turned the scale. 
 
 " It is always better to give away than to keep the 
 nice things; so I know my Louy will not let the 
 little friend go without." 
 
 " So," writes Miss Alcott, " the little friend re- 
 ceived the dear, plummy cake, and I a kiss, and my 
 first lesson in the sweetness of self-denial." 
 
 Little Louisa had one sad habit; she was fond of 
 running away, and on one of these interesting oc- 
 casions she spent the day with some Irish children, 
 who shared a very frugal and a very salty dinner
 
 8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, 
 
 with her, after which they played in the ash heaps, 
 and later took a trip to the Common. Presently her 
 friends deserted her; it grew dark, and she began 
 to long for home. She finally sat down on a wel- 
 come doorstep beside a friendly big dog, who kindly 
 allowed her to use his back as a pillow. She was 
 roused from sleep by the town crier, who had been 
 sent in search of her by her distracted parents. She 
 says : " His bell and proclamation of the loss of ' a 
 little girl six years old, in a pink frock, white hat, 
 and new green shoes ' woke me up,, and a small voice 
 answered out of the darkness : ' Why, dat's me ' ! " 
 
 Very much the same thing happened to Naughty 
 Nan in " Little Men," when she and Rob got lost, 
 and it seems that Louisa's escapade was punished 
 as Nan's was. The runaway was tied to the arm of 
 a sofa next day, to cure her of the wandering habit. 
 She was an athletic little soul; she loved to climb 
 trees and leap fences and run races like a young deer 
 or colt. It was nothing unusual for her to drive her 
 hoop around the Common, and her friendships were 
 always based on powers of achievement. Barring 
 her own sisters, girls were nothing to her unless they 
 were tomboys, but boys appealed to her through their 
 prowess; the boy who could not equal her in lively 
 sports deserved no place in her friendship; he who 
 excelled was worshiped as a hero, and Louisa had 
 many heroes in her active youth. 
 
 At the age of seven her particular idol was a cer- 
 tain Frank, who was a lord of creation and loftily
 
 LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 9 
 
 permitted her devotion. He used to amuse himself 
 by slapping her hands with books, hoopsticks, shoes, 
 or anything which could give a good stinging blow, 
 hoping to make her cry; but she bore the pain with 
 fortitude, quite repaid when she heard him tell the 
 other boys " she's a brave little thing and you can't 
 make her cry." There were long days of romping, 
 and happy evenings snuggled in sofa corners, plan- 
 ning tricks and eating stolen " goodies," and 
 " sometimes," she tells us in "My Boys," a jolly little 
 story of her early loves, "Frank would put his curly 
 head in my lap and let me stroke it when he was 
 tired." But this boy, alas! proved treacherous and 
 gave his adorer up to a punishment which she had 
 justly deserved, but which she had tried to escape 
 by locking herself in the dining room; this false 
 friend, with the twinkling eyes and the curly hair, 
 climbed in at the window and unlocked the door, 
 adding insult to injury by helping to bear her off 
 to imprisonment. This was a sad blow to Louisa; 
 she would have been stanch and true under any 
 circumstances, and she never forgave this first love 
 of hers, though he tempted her with offers of pea- 
 nuts and candy, ginger snaps and car rides. She 
 had lost faith in his loyalty. 
 
 Loyalty was a star characteristic of the Alcott 
 family. No matter what the cause or how forlorn 
 the hope, if he deemed it just and wise, and for the 
 benefit of his fellow-creatures, Mr. Alcott fought 
 for it with his whole soul, and clung to it with his
 
 10 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 whole strength. Shoulder to shoulder with him 
 stood his brave wife loyally supporting him, while 
 her capable hands toiled to make the burdens lighter, 
 and the little girls each early impressed with the 
 responsibility of looking after her soul were always 
 loyal to the trust and to each other, and to the father 
 and mother, to whom they so freely brought their 
 small troubles and perplexities. 
 
 So the home of the Alcotts was rich in love and 
 loyalty, -but poor in worldly goods. Mr. Alcott's 
 Boston school began to dwindle sadly, until he found 
 himself at last with but five pupils, three of whom 
 were his own daughters. This was unfortunate, for 
 he was a born teacher, enthusiastic, cultured, and 
 devoted to young people. He has said himself : 
 " When one becomes indifferent to women, to chil- 
 dren and to young people, he may know that he is 
 superannuated, and has withdrawn from whatso- 
 ever is sweetest and purest in human existence." 
 The cause of his unpopularity was to be found in 
 the very strong views he held on antislavery. Bos- 
 ton had not yet put on her war paint, and the single- 
 minded gentleman almost lost caste on account of 
 his advanced opinions. He was compelled to give 
 up his school, and the " Pathetic Family," as Louisa 
 often called them in later years, moved to historic 
 old Concord, where the three little girls found an- 
 other little sister and spent the happiest years of 
 their lives. 
 
 Going to Concord, away from big and busy Bos-
 
 LOUISA MAY. ARRIVES. n 
 
 ton, was like going into the country, and the three 
 young ones always enjoyed that when they went on 
 brief summer outings to Scituate. In Concord they 
 had a pleasant house, a garden full of trees, and a 
 big barn, which was their delight, and where they 
 produced many marvelous plays, products of their 
 own busy brains. Both Anna and Louisa had a 
 wonderful gift for acting, and the old barn was the 
 scene of many triumphs. They dramatized the fairy 
 tales in fine style " Jack and the Beanstalk," 
 " Cinderella " and others. That moral tale of 
 the foolish woman who wasted her three wishes 
 was admirably illustrated by a big black pudding, 
 which was lowered by invisible hands until it fas- 
 tened itself upon her nose. 
 
 Playing pilgrims was a favorite amusement when 
 they were little. " Sometimes," as Miss Alcott tells 
 us in her recollections, they " journeyed over the 
 hill with scrip and staff and cockle-shells in their 
 hats." At other times, so vividly described in " Lit- 
 tle Women," their mother tied her piece-bags on 
 their backs for burdens, gave them hats, sticks, and 
 rolls of paper, and sent them from the cellar, which 
 was the City of Destruction, to the housetop, which 
 was the Celestial City, and being nothing if not 
 dramatic, as well as little earnest, toiling Christians, 
 they acted out their progress during their upward 
 journey. There was plenty of religion in the Al- 
 cott household, moments of holy enthusiasm, born 
 of Nature and the love of it.
 
 12 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 One can fancy Louisa's restless feet taking her 
 over the hills at dawn one summer morning; the 
 rest in the silent woods, the glimpse of the sun ris- 
 ing over the hills, were awe-inspiring to the thought- 
 ful child. She tells us herself that she felt as she 
 had never felt before, God's presence near her, and, 
 as she says, she got religion in that quiet hour. 
 
 Here, in the open, they learned their lessons, 
 charming nature lessons, with their father as teacher. 
 Their mother was generally with them in their hours 
 of recreation ; she was an admirable manager and 
 she made it a rule to rise early in the morning, to 
 finish all the work in the forenoon, so that the after- 
 noon could be devoted to the children. This was a 
 time of wandering in the woods under clear sum- 
 mer skies, telling stories, playing games, and spout- 
 ing poetry. There were friends, too, to share these 
 pleasures, the young Emersons, the Hawthornes, the 
 Channings, and the Goodwins all children of re- 
 markable parents. 
 
 Dr. Edward W. Emerson, one of the " boys," 
 gives us a delightful glimpse of Mrs. Alcott in her 
 relations with her children : " She was not only lov- 
 ing and sympathetic, but she had a well-stored and 
 fertile mind. From her they learned to depend on 
 themselves for good times, and their imaginations 
 were quickened. The zeal of the mother in helping 
 on her children's little plans appears in a touching 
 sentence in a story of Louisa's, describing a school 
 masquerade such as we had later. The fathers
 
 LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 13 
 
 might grudge the expense. ' But the mothers, 
 whose interest in their children's pleasure is a sort 
 of evergreen that no frost of time can kill, sewed 
 spangles by the bushel, and made wildernesses of 
 tissue paper blossom like the rose, kept tempers 
 sweet, stomachs full, and domestic machinery work- 
 ing through it all, by that maternal magic which 
 makes them the human providences of this naughty 
 world.' " 
 
 Louisa became the devoted mother of a doll at 
 the age of seven, and her mother wrote the follow- 
 ing letter to go with the birthday gift : 
 
 " MY DEAR LITTLE GIRL : 
 
 " Will you accept this doll from me on your sev- 
 enth birthday? She will be a quiet playmate for 
 my active Louisa for seven years more. Be a kind 
 mamma and love her for my sake. 
 
 "YOUR MOTHER. 
 
 "Beach Street, Boston, 1839." 
 
 Dolls were always a source of pleasure to the Al- 
 cott children, they became living things in their pos- 
 session. Louisa put hers through every experience 
 of life, and at twelve she was a regular doll's dress- 
 maker, hung out her sign and invited custom. 
 
 Those early Concord days saw the first dawning 
 of creative power in the little girl, and the poem 
 written to the half-starved robin they found in the 
 garden one cold morning, and warmed and fed, was
 
 14 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, 
 
 Louisa's first effort. It was written when she was 
 eight years old. 
 
 To THE FIRST ROBIN. 
 
 Welcome, welcome, little stranger, 
 Fear no harm and fear no danger; 
 We are glad to see you here, 
 For you sing "Sweet Spring is near." 
 
 Now the white snow melts away ; 
 Now the flowers blossom gay : 
 Come, dear bird, and build your nest, 
 For we love our robin best. 
 
 Mrs. Alcott was so delighted that she predicted 
 that Louisa would become a second Shakespeare. 
 And indeed from this time the little girl's many 
 thoughts took shape in verse, and the pen which her 
 mother gave her on her tenth birthday was thereafter 
 put into active service. Perhaps the best record of 
 these little " pilgrims' progress " is found in their 
 father's diaries. He knew each child, to the core of 
 her innocent heart. Louisa and Anna, so near of an 
 age, were totally different in character. Anna was 
 spirited, but sweet and tractable at most times, but 
 Louisa was turbulent. If Anna had anything she, 
 Louisa, wanted, she claimed it at once, with " en- 
 treaties, tears, even blows." 
 
 On one occasion the subject of dispute was a cer- 
 tain rocking chair, in which both wanted to sit.
 
 LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 15 
 
 They were very angry, and the fight was hot, when 
 Mr. Alcott interfered. 
 
 " Anna, can you not give up the chair to your 
 sister? " he asked. 
 
 " No, I cannot," was her prompt reply. 
 
 " I will leave you to try then," he went on. 
 
 " Very well, father, I will try," she answered 
 coolly, " and now I think we can get along without 
 you." 
 
 Mr. Alcott retreated to his study, but the noise 
 grew so unbearable that he was forced to rush again 
 to the rescue. This time he separated the combat- 
 ants, and the bribe of an apple lured Anna peaceably 
 to the study. 
 
 " And now, Anna," said her father, as she sat 
 placidly nibbling the rosy fruit, " did you give up 
 the chair to Louisa because you loved your sister, 
 or because you wanted the apple ? " 
 
 " Because I wanted the apple," she calmly replied. 
 
 Thinking to make more impression on the victo- 
 rious Louisa, he paid a third visit to the nursery 
 the seat of battle. Of this visit he made no record, 
 beyond the brief statement that 
 
 " Louisa had taken the chair ! " 
 
 The nursery was a place of delight to the young- 
 sters for acting out the stories Father told them in 
 the twilight the children's hour. They would go 
 to bed with their eager young minds full of sprites 
 and fairies, good and bad angels, smiling skies, 
 crystal raindrops, gurgling waters, and beautiful gar-
 
 16 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 dens with bright walls around them, and the next 
 day they would remember the stories in their own 
 fanciful way. One of these tales they called " The 
 Garden of Goodness." Another favorite was " The 
 Story of a Little Feeling," a tale in which Love and 
 Hate fought for a little girl's heart. This was acted 
 with great success. 
 
 Indeed, whatever particularly impressed them they 
 acted out at once, Louisa taking the principal parts, 
 as soon as she had overcome her baby lisp, Anna 
 slipping good-naturedly into the second place. 
 
 On their nursery bookshelves could be found all 
 the best reading for children in those days, and to 
 the girls of to-day the following list of well-selected 
 books must look queer and old-fashioned. 
 
 LIST OF THE ALCOTT BOOKS. 
 
 Frank. 
 
 Cherry Orchard. } Miss EDGEWORTH. 
 
 Liar and Boys of Truth. 
 
 Lessons for Children. 
 
 MRS. B ARBOUR. 
 
 Little Henri. 
 
 Original Poems for Infant 
 
 Minds. } ANN AND JANE TAYLOR. 
 
 Rhymes for the Nursery 
 Familiar Tales. 
 The Rosebud. 
 
 The Daisy. [ MRS. CRABB. 
 
 The Cowslip. 
 
 Little Rhymes. 1 MRS. POLLEN. 
 
 The Child's Gem. )
 
 LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 17 
 
 Hannah Lee. \ 
 
 Little Woman and Pedlar. > WILSON. 
 
 Mother Goose. ) 
 
 Poems for Children. MRS. HALES. 
 
 Babes in the Woods. 
 
 Cinderella. 
 
 The Looking Glass. 
 
 A funny collection, but gems to the Alcott chil- 
 dren, who made the best use of them, acting out 
 each story to their own satisfaction. " The Old 
 Woman and the Pedlar " was a special favorite, 
 and called forth much applause. 
 
 Louisa's earliest responsibility, a responsibility 
 which fell heavily on each of the " Little Women," 
 was her conscience. The careful father had early 
 taught them that conscience consisted of a mind and 
 a soul. The mind was a round room, and the soul 
 a little creature with wings, that lived in it. The 
 walls were full of shelves and drawers, in which 
 they kept their thoughts, and there were goodness 
 and badness and all sorts of things. The goodness 
 could always be seen, and the badness was always 
 locked up tight. But it got out somehow and they 
 had a hard time putting it back and squeezing it 
 down, it was so strong. Louisa often played with 
 her thoughts when she was alone or in bed, and 
 many a night she would wake up to see the moon 
 streaming through her window, and turn to her 
 thoughts for company. Every Sunday she put her 
 room in order, and talked with the little spirit that
 
 l8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 lived there, in very much the grown-up way that her 
 father talked to her. Though at times she shook 
 her head despondently because her room was in dis- 
 order, and though the lock was not always strong 
 enough to keep the badness shut up, there was al- 
 ways Father to consult about putting better things 
 in the drawer, and Mother to help clear away cob- 
 webs from the nooks and corners where the bad- 
 ness lay hidden, and an earnest, ardent little girl, 
 who was beginning to have high thoughts and noble 
 purposes, and her own opinion of men and things.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 
 
 [EN Louisa was nearly ten years old, Mr. 
 Alcott went to England where he met a 
 great many people who agreed with his 
 peculiar ideas of education and of living. 
 For a long time he had been thinking of a plan which 
 would enable a large number of people to live un- 
 der the same roof in absolute harmony and brotherly 
 love. It was to be a little community, each member 
 of which, by the work of his or her hands, was to 
 add a share to the " family " support. Their watch- 
 words were to be love and purity ; simple living and 
 high thinking were to mark their daily lives. In 
 his great, loving mind, arose a picture of this ideal 
 home, and he presented it so beautifully to the eyes 
 of his friends that they became enthusiastic and 
 many promised to join him in this scheme. 
 
 One of these, a Mr. Lane, came back to America 
 with Mr. Alcott, and for many months he made 
 his home with the Alcott family, while plans were 
 discussed and kindred spirits were drawn into the 
 experiment. After much talk they decided to secure 
 a small estate of about a hundred acres, suitable for 
 19
 
 20 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 agriculture and fruit growing, and this they found 
 at last near the village of Harvard, Mass., called no 
 doubt after that same John Harvard who gave his 
 name to the college at Cambridge. This property 
 was situated most beautifully on a hillside sloping 
 to the river, with lovely views to the west, while 
 in the background rose the towering, tree-covered 
 summit of Prospect Hill. The eager philosophers 
 named the place Fruitlands in anticipation of har- 
 vests to come, and from Miss Alcott herself, in a 
 clever little story called " Transcendental Wild 
 Oats," we have the following account of the journey 
 of the Alcott family to their new home: 
 
 " On the first day of June, 184 , a large wagon, 
 drawn by a small horse and containing a motley 
 load, went lumbering over certain New England 
 hills with the pleasing accompaniment of wind, rain, 
 and hail. A serene man, with a serene child upon 
 his knee, was driving, or rather being driven, for the 
 small horse had it all his own way. A brown boy, 
 with a William Penn sort of countenance, sat be- 
 side him, firmly embracing a bust of Socrates. Be- 
 hind them was an energetic-looking woman, with 
 a benevolent brow, satirical mouth, and eyes full of 
 hope and courage. A baby reposed upon her lap, a 
 mirror leaned against her knee, and a basket of 
 provisions danced about at her feet, as she struggled 
 with a large, unruly umbrella. Two blue-eyed lit- 
 tle girls, with hands full of childish treasures, sat 
 under one old shawl, chatting happily together."
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 21 
 
 There was no road leading to the house, which 
 could not be seen that rainy afternoon through the 
 blur of the landscape, and there is no doubt that the 
 large wagon and the small horse floundered help- 
 lessly in the mud many times on the journey, until 
 they drew up at last before the old red farmhouse 
 which was to be their home, just as a beautiful 
 rainbow broke through the gray sky at the close of 
 the day. So, looking on this as an omen of good 
 cheer, the little girls sprang from the wagon in high 
 spirits, and the older people followed, with baskets, 
 bundles, umbrella, and baby. The mirror had long 
 ago met its fate with a crash. 
 
 There was a glimmer of light shining from the 
 windows of the old red house, but there was no 
 furniture as yet, so the tired Alcott family sat 
 around on blocks of wood, and enjoyed a supper of 
 roasted potatoes, brown bread and water, and went 
 to bed Heaven knows where or how for history 
 has left no record of that first night at Fruitlands. 
 
 It must have been a queer change for the three lit- 
 tle girls. Baby May, of course, was too young to 
 think much about her surroundings, and Lizzie, hap- 
 py little soul, would have been contented anywhere 
 with those she loved best around her. But Anna 
 and Louisa opened their blue eyes questioningly and 
 sometimes disapprovingly. They loved the country, 
 and even the surroundings of the house were allur- 
 ing; the old barn, the orchard, the meadow lands 
 beyond, and the beautiful grove, so full of a dim,
 
 22 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 religious calm ; but the regulations for everyday liv- 
 ing were too much for such independent youngsters. 
 The rule of the household was to rise at dawn and 
 go to bed at sunset, and it is no wonder that poor 
 Louisa spent many wakeful hours in bed, and had 
 to recite poetry to lull herself to sleep. 
 
 There are many people in the world who are only 
 too eager to laugh at the efforts of those who try 
 to make it better, and poor Mr. Alcott, for all his 
 lofty ideals, was laughed at by friends and foes, who 
 stood apart to watch the experiment. Mrs. Alcott 
 did not share her husband's dreams of simplicity 
 and purity, but she respected his wishes in regard 
 to the bringing-up of their little girls, whose healthy 
 young appetites looked for nothing better than the 
 fruit of the tree and the products of the earth. This 
 coming to Fruitlands, they fondly believed, was to 
 be a perpetual picnic. 
 
 The furniture for their new home arrived the 
 next day, and then the plan of living was discussed ; 
 of course by the elders, the duty of the young ones 
 was to obey. 
 
 Mr. Lane, Mr. Alcott's English friend, made him- 
 self master of Fruitlands, and proceeded to govern 
 his little colony with a firmness which amounted to 
 severity. During the time he lived in the Alcott 
 household, before the experiment was put into prac- 
 tice, he had taught the little girls, but he had never 
 won their hearts nor gained their confidence. Per- 
 haps they resented the calm manner in which he
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 23 
 
 thrust their clever father, whom they adored, into 
 the background, while he decided what should or 
 should not be done. 
 
 The question of clothes was the very first thing 
 to be discussed. Mr. Alcott suggested linen, and 
 his idea was adopted at once, as it was summer and 
 nobody thought of the cold weather. Mr. Lane 
 said that nothing must be used which caused wrong 
 or death to man or beast, and as silk was made by 
 the killing of the silkworms, wool by robbing the 
 sheep of their coats, and cotton by the labor of 
 slaves, linen was all that was left. The entire 
 " family " wore tunics and trousers of brown linen. 
 The women's skirts were longer, and their straw 
 hat-brims were wider than the men's, and that was 
 the only difference in costume. As to shoes, no one 
 could think at first of anything but leather. Bark, 
 wood, or some durable fabric might be invented in 
 time, but those who wished might go barefooted. 
 Here Mrs. Alcott had a word : " I never will, nor 
 my girls either," she said firmly. The four little 
 girls must have presented a strange picture in such 
 attire, but they played and romped quite happily, for 
 the lack of pretty clothes was the least of their wor- 
 ries. What to eat, or at least what not to eat, was 
 a much more serious question. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Alcott wrung her capable hands in 
 despair when she took command of their grim-look- 
 ing kitchen and the responsibility of their daily 
 bill of fare. She had eleven in the family, after-
 
 24 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 wards increased to sixteen, and her larder contained 
 " cakes of maple sugar, dried peas and beans, barley 
 and hominy, meal of all sorts, potatoes and dried 
 fruit." Milk, butter, cheese, tea, and meat were for- 
 bidden, and salt and spices were looked upon as 
 useless luxuries. Now what could the best of cooks 
 do under those circumstances ? If Mrs. Alcott had 
 not been blessed with a wonderful disposition and 
 power of endurance, she could never have pulled 
 through the experiment, but having lived on a vege- 
 table diet for many years, she managed to give her 
 hungry nestlings the following rich fare during 
 these days : 
 
 For' Breakfast Unleavened bread, porridge, and 
 water. 
 
 For Dinner Bread, vegetables, and water. 
 
 For Supper Bread, fruit, and water. 
 Fancy four jolly little girls pinned down to such 
 food day after day, with no " extra best " for Sun- 
 days! 
 
 Tn those days there was no kerosene oil; what 
 was used in the lamps was made of some animal 
 substance, and the wise ones decreed that no oil 
 should be used until some vegetable oil or wax was 
 discovered, but, after several experiments, Mrs. Al- 
 cott rebelled again. Evening was her only time of 
 rest, and she could then mend the torn dresses, and 
 darn the stockings of her little girls. So " Mother's 
 Lamp " became a fixture, while the wise men who 
 ruled at Fruitlands sat 'out in the moonlight, when
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 25 
 
 there was a moon, and talked over their plans and 
 hopes; but we may be pretty certain that when it 
 rained, some of them clustered round that same des- 
 pised lamp, glad of its genial rays. 
 
 The farmers had the hardest time of all; they 
 labored entirely with their hands, spading and hoe- 
 ing, until blisters and aching backs made a plow 
 absolutely necessary ; then, one of the " brothers " 
 brought a yoke of oxen from his farm. " So," Miss 
 Alcott writes, " the philosophers thought, until it 
 was discovered that one of the animals was a cow, 
 and Moses confessed that he ' must be let down 
 easy, for he couldn't live on garden sarse entirely.' " 
 But time pressed, the work must be done, " so the 
 meek cow was permitted to wear the yoke, and the 
 recreant ' brother ' continued to enjoy forbidden 
 draughts [of milk] in the barn, which dark pro- 
 ceeding caused the children to regard him as one 
 set apart for destruction." 
 
 There were only two women at Fruit lands, Mrs. 
 Alcott and Miss Anna Page, who gave* the children 
 music lessons. She is described by Miss Alcott in 
 after life as " a stout lady of mature years, senti- 
 mental, amiable and lazy." In Louisa's childish 
 journal she expresses herself more forcibly : " I had 
 a music lesson with Miss P. I hate her, she is so 
 fussy." 
 
 This lady either could not or would not help with 
 the household drudgery, and on one occasion when 
 asked how many beasts of burden were on the place,
 
 26 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Mrs. Alcott replied, " Only one woman." The 
 placid Miss Page laughed with the others at the 
 joke, but still she did not " lend a hand." She left 
 very soon under the most humiliating circum- 
 stances; she had been caught by one of the children 
 eating the tail of a fish at a neighbor's house ! Her 
 terrible conduct was reported and she was severely 
 scolded, whereupon she packed up bag and baggage 
 and departed in high dudgeon. 
 
 Anna and Louisa put their sturdy little shoulders 
 to the wheel and " helped mother " between study 
 hours. Here are some samples of their daily life, 
 taken from Louisa's journal written during that first 
 year, 1843, when she was ten years old: 
 
 " September ist. I rose at five and had my bath ; 
 I love cold water ! Then we had our singing lesson 
 with Mr. Lane. After breakfast I washed dishes, 
 and ran on the hill till nine, and had some thoughts 
 it was so beautiful up there. Did my lessons 
 wrote and spelt and did some sums; and Mr. Lane 
 read a story, ' The Judicious Father.' . . . Father 
 asked us what was God's noblest work. Anna said 
 men, but I said babies. Men are often bad; babies 
 never are. We had a long talk and I felt better 
 after it and cleared up." 
 
 It is very plain that Louisa was puzzled over the 
 term " men ; " babies evidently, in her small mind, 
 belonged to another order of human beings, and it 
 cost her father some trouble to explain to his in- 
 quiring little daughter that babies and men were
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 27 
 
 really the flower and fruit of the same tree. Louisa 
 continues : 
 
 " We had bread and fruit for dinner. I read 
 and walked and played till supper time. We sang 
 in the evening. As I went to bed the moon came 
 up very brightly and looked at me. I felt sad be- 
 cause I have been cross to-day and did not mind 
 Mother. I cried and then I felt better and said that 
 piece from Mrs. Sigourney, ' I must not tease my 
 Mother.' I get to sleep saying poetry. I know a 
 great deal." 
 
 " Thursday, nth. Mr. Parker Pillsbury came 
 and we talked about the poor slaves." 
 
 This was always an absorbing subject to Louisa, 
 as it was to every member of the family. At the 
 age of two, her mother says, she showed a strong 
 leaning toward antislavery. Certain it is that from 
 the time a colored boy saved her from drowning 
 in the Frog Pond in Boston she became a stanch 
 friend of the slaves, and had she been a man when 
 the war came, she would gladly have marched to 
 battle for their freedom. 
 
 She speaks of a run in the woods that same day, 
 where she played being a horse and had a lovely 
 time with Anna and Lizzie. They played fairies 
 and made gowns and paper wings, and she " flied " 
 highest of all. Dear little girl! She was always 
 flying high in her imagination and falling short in 
 her small efforts, and examining her small sins in 
 her merciless child fashion.
 
 28 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 On Sunday, October 2ist, she says: " Father and 
 Mr. Lane have gone to New Hampshire to preach. 
 It was very lovely." 
 
 We cannot help smiling and wondering if she 
 meant it was lovely at Fruitlands without the 
 preaching. Anna and Louisa got supper, not such 
 hard work considering the bill of fare. 
 
 On the 8th of October, her mother's birthday, 
 Louisa made a moss cross and wrote a piece of 
 poetry for her. They had no school, but played in 
 the woods and got red leaves. In the evening they 
 danced and sang. Louisa read a story about " Con- 
 tentment " and wished " that she was rich and good 
 and all were a happy family this day." 
 
 " Tuesday, October 12th. After lessons I 
 ironed. We all went to the barn and husked corn, 
 it was good fun. We worked till eight o'clock and 
 had lamps. Mr. Russell came. Mother and Lizzie 
 are going to Boston. I shall be very lonely with- 
 out dear little Betty, and no one will be as good to 
 me as Mother. I read in Plutarch. I made a verse 
 about sunset : 
 
 Softly doth the sun descend 
 
 To his couch behind the hill, 
 Then, oh, then I love to sit 
 On mossy banks beside the rill. 
 
 Anna thought it was very fine; but I didn't like it 
 very well." 
 
 It was no uncommon thing for Anna and Louisa 
 to do the housework, and in the evening when they
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 29 
 
 were very tired, Mr. Lane would ask, in a casual 
 way, a question for discussion, for instance : " What 
 is man ? " These weary little girls were required 
 to answer intelligently, after which ensued a long 
 talk, and they went to bed exhausted. 
 
 But there were moments of real joy for the young 
 folks, in spite of many privations. Every event in 
 the family, every celebration was a woodland fes- 
 tival. On little May's third birthday she was es- 
 corted by the entire household at Fruitlands, to the 
 grove which was reserved for gala occasions. Here 
 she was crowned with flowers, and an ode, written 
 by her father, was spoken by him in celebration of 
 the opening of this paradise. 
 
 Their gifts to one another were always Nature's 
 treasures, for money being forbidden, it would have 
 been hard to secure anything else; and many were 
 the dainty things the Alcott children learned to 
 make, and doubtless the pressed wild flowers and 
 artistic efforts in moss gave just as much pleasure 
 as more costly articles. Then the little girls had 
 their dolls, and much time was happily passed in 
 working for them and making them gay clothes, 
 quite unlike the sober linens they were forced to 
 wear. 
 
 And so with plenty of work and study and play, 
 the first summer at Fruitlands passed uneventfully 
 enough, and the little girls were learning to accept 
 with patience and cheerfulness their very queer lot 
 in life.
 
 30 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 The days grew shorter, and the grain was stacked 
 ready to house. It was not much of a harvest, but 
 it had to be brought in. Mrs. Alcott, always watch- 
 ful for the good of others, noticed that a storm was 
 coming up, and she knew the rain would ruin the 
 yellow stacks. She had no time to lose, and not a 
 man on the place to help her; all were away on 
 some higher mission. So she gathered her forces, 
 which consisted of Anna, Louisa, Lizzie, Mr. Lane's 
 son and herself, who were harnessed to clothes bas- 
 kets and linen sheets ; these were the only teams she 
 could command, but the plucky lady set out un- 
 daunted, and got in the grain just in time to save 
 it from destruction. 
 
 Indeed, had it not been for her constant provision 
 and foresight, the little colony would have gone to 
 pieces long before it did, as it was sustained on 
 little more than high spirits and everlasting hope. 
 They discovered that they could not support them- 
 selves on pure living, that provisions of the simplest 
 kind had to be paid for, and the use of money being 
 forbidden, it was often found impossible to obtain 
 even the barest necessities of life in any other way. 
 But Mr. Alcott's philosophy never wavered. He 
 was a reformer who took his own medicine, and the 
 beautiful allegories and fables which he created for 
 the education of the young ones preached lessons 
 of patience, endurance, and perseverance, which 
 sank deep into their childish hearts and helped them 
 through the hard winter indoors.
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 31 
 
 Yet even winter held compensations for these 
 small philosophers; there were the long evenings 
 around the lamp, with father and mother, quite 
 alone. Then Anna and Louisa would sew for their 
 dolls, and Mother would sew for them, and Father 
 would read aloud from Plato, or Plutarch, or from 
 dear " Pilgrim's Progress," as on one occasion 
 Louisa mentions in her journal. Mr. Lane was in 
 Boston, whereat they rejoiced. It was not often 
 the Alcotts could talk among themselves of their 
 worries and perplexities, but on this night the two 
 little girls joined the family council and there was a 
 long, confidential talk, for things were looking very 
 dark for Fruitlands. 
 
 " We all cried," writes Louisa, " Anna and I 
 cried in bed, and I prayed God to keep us all to- 
 gether." So there must have been some hint of 
 sending the little girls away, for a while, from all 
 this poverty and privation. It seemed, however, 
 that the separation had to come, for Anna left home 
 soon after, and Louisa missed her dreadfully. 
 These two little sisters, so near of an age, were all 
 in all to each other. Their lessons ran along the 
 same lines, their journals recorded the same events, 
 each one writing in her own characteristic fashion. 
 Their numerous dramas, or at least melodramas, 
 were the joint products of their vivid imaginations, 
 and these they acted together in the old barn, Anna 
 preferring the sentimental parts, and Louisa any- 
 thing which required action and dialogue, even tak-
 
 32 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 ing the villain's parts if they filled these require- 
 ments. So with Anna away, one can well imagine 
 Louisa's loneliness, which at the age of eleven she 
 expressed in this fashion : 
 
 To ANNA. 
 
 Sister, dear, when you are lonely, 
 
 Longing for your distant home, 
 And the images of loved ones 
 
 Warmly to your heart shall come, 
 Then, mid tender thoughts and fancies, 
 
 Let one fond voice say to thee, 
 "Ever when your heart is heavy, 
 
 Anna, dear, then think of me." 
 
 Think how we two have together 
 
 Journeyed onward day by day, 
 Joys and sorrows ever sharing, 
 
 While the swift years roll away. 
 Then may all the sunny hours 
 
 Of our youth rise up to thee, 
 And when your heart is light and happy, 
 
 Anna, dear, then think of me. 
 
 Besides the journals, the children had imagina- 
 tion books, in which they were allowed to write 
 anything that popped into their busy little heads, 
 and this was a constant source of delight to Louisa, 
 who was always thinking of something original, 
 and she had arrived at an age when she was greedily 
 drinking in knowledge from all sources. During
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 33 
 
 the Fruitlands experiment, which lasted from her 
 tenth to her thirteenth year, she read Plato, Socrates, 
 Plutarch, Scott, Martin Luther, Miss Bremer, Bet- 
 tine's correspondence with Goethe ; and " Philo- 
 thea," a story by Mrs. Child, charmed her so much 
 that the young Alcotts dramatized it and acted it 
 with much glory, under the trees. Every spot to 
 them was a place to act in; they might have said 
 with Shakespeare, " All the world's a stage," for no 
 nook or corner was too sacred for their art. The 
 countless other things she must have read are not 
 recorded, but the active brain was never at rest in 
 waking hours. 
 
 About this time she came into possession of what 
 w r as, to her, a kingdom a room of her very own 
 where she could be alone whenever she liked, and 
 dream her dreams, and allow her wild fancies to 
 take shape and soar. The little girl was a thing 
 of the past ; she was now in her teens and she began 
 seriously to plan out her future. She was old for 
 her age ; many people thought her queer because she 
 did not care for girls' things. But she did care 
 about being good and trying to help her mother, 
 already so sorely overtaxed. 
 
 The love between the two was very beautiful. 
 Mrs. Alcott understood the struggles of her way- 
 ward little daughter, sympathizing with the turbu- 
 lent spirit within her which made her so restless, so 
 eager to be always doing, and the sweet, motherly 
 notes, full of encouragement and advice, which
 
 34 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Louisa often found between the pages of her jour- 
 nal, were very comforting. Here is a sample of 
 their private correspondence, written before the lit- 
 tle room had become a reality: 
 
 " DEAREST MOTHER : 
 
 " I have tried to be more contented, and I think 
 I have been more so. I have been thinking about 
 my little room, which I suppose I never shall have. 
 I should want to be there about all the time, and I 
 should go there and sing and think. 
 
 "But I'll be contented 
 
 With what I have got, 
 Of folly repented, 
 
 Then sweet is my lot. 
 " From your trying daughter, 
 
 " LOUISA." 
 
 " MY DEAR LOUISA : 
 
 " Your note gave me so much delight that I can- 
 not close my eyes without first thanking you, dear, 
 for making me so happy, and blessing God, who 
 gave you this tender love for your mother. 
 
 " I have observed all day your patience with baby, 
 your obedience to me, and your kindness to all. 
 Go on ' trying,' my child ; God will give you 
 strength and courage, and help you fill each day 
 with words and deeds of love. I shall lay this on 
 your pillow, put a warm kiss on your lips, and say 
 a little prayer over you in your sleep. 
 
 " MOTHER/'
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 35 
 
 The following poem was written by Louisa at 
 the age of eleven, when the poor people at Fruit- 
 lands seemed to be very low in their minds : 
 
 Silent and sad 
 
 When all is glad, 
 And the earth is dressed in flowers; 
 
 When the gay birds sing 
 
 Till the forests ring, 
 As they rest in woodland bowers. 
 
 Oh! why these tears, 
 
 And these idle fears, 
 For what may come to-morrow? 
 
 The birds find food 
 
 From God so good, 
 And the flowers know no sorrow. 
 
 If He clothes these, 
 
 And the leafy trees, 
 Will He not cherish thee? 
 
 Why doubt His care 
 
 It is everywhere, 
 Tho' the way we may not see. 
 
 Then why be sad, 
 
 When all is glad, 
 And the world is full of flowers? 
 
 With the gay birds sing, 
 
 Make life all spring, 
 And smile thro' the darkest hours. 
 
 The seasons came and went, and things got 
 worse and worse at Fruitlands. One by one the
 
 36 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 " family " dwindled, until finally Mr. Lane, seeing 
 there was nothing more to gain in such a venture, 
 decided to leave them and join the Shaker settle- 
 ment, of which he had heard. So the poor Alcotts, 
 deserted by those who should have fought it out 
 with them, were left in the old red farmhouse, with 
 neither wood for fire, nor corn for food, the com- 
 ing winter staring them in the face, with no money 
 and scarcely a friend to whom they could apply for 
 help. Mr. Alcott, worn out in mind and body, 
 broke down at last, when he found himself alone 
 and deserted. This wild scheme had cut him off 
 from his friends; some laughed, some thought him 
 crazy, others would not help him until he turned to 
 more practical things. And now he lived to know 
 how unpractical Fruitlands was, and had been, from 
 the beginning. 
 
 We must live as our neighbors live ; we may beau- 
 tify that living as much as we please, but custom 
 and habit are sure to be right in the main, or the 
 majority would not follow where they lead, and he 
 who turns aside must either turn an army with him, 
 or be laughed at for his trouble. 
 
 This was the case with Mr. Alcott, and had it 
 not been for his wife and little girls he would never 
 have outlived the disappointment. The brave " big 
 woman " and the four dear " little women " 
 stretched out loving hands, and pulled him through 
 his despair. Mrs. Alcott wrote to her brother in 
 Boston, who promptly came to their assistance;
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 37 
 
 and she sold all the furniture she could spare, thus 
 getting together a little money. Then she went to 
 Still River, the nearest village to Fruitlands, .and 
 engaged four rooms from their good neighbors, the 
 Lovejoys, and on one bleak December day the Al- 
 cott family emerged from the snowbank in which 
 the old red farmhouse lay hidden. Their worldly 
 goods were piled on an ox-sled, the four girls on the 
 top, while father and mother trudged arm in arm 
 behind, poorer indeed in worldly goods, but richer 
 in love and faith and patience, and, alas, experience. 
 
 Fruitlands was Fruitlands no longer ; Mrs. Alcott 
 rechristened it Apple Slump. 
 
 The house where the Lovejoys lived was called 
 " The Brick Ends," a plain, square house, looking 
 from the outside like one of the toy houses of a 
 Noah's Ark. The Alcotts occupied one side and 
 the Lovejoys the other, and here the little family 
 was mercifully housed and befriended during the 
 long winter, when they regained their spirits with 
 their usual elasticity. As long as they were all to- 
 gether nothing really mattered, so great was the 
 family tie. 
 
 When spring came, the Still River young peo- 
 ple became interested in their new neighbors. 
 Gayety began with a May party, with a Queen and 
 Maypole, and one of these former children has 
 given us an interesting account of Lizzie's birthday 
 party on June 24th. It took place in Mrs. Love- 
 joy's kitchen, which was dressed with evergreens 
 
 20210
 
 38 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 and made a fitting 1 stage for the evening's entertain- 
 ment; her sitting-room was the dress circle. The 
 Alcott's sitting-room was ornamented with a small 
 tree, from the boughs of which hung gifts, not only 
 for the birthday girl, but for each of her guests. 
 In Mrs. Alcott's kitchen was spread the feast. How 
 good it was to feast after all, if ever so simply! 
 There were small cakes, no doubt delicious if Mrs. 
 Alcott made them ; there were cherries in profusion, 
 and a great birthday cake in the center. There were 
 dramatic entertainments throughout the evening. 
 Part of an old English play was given by the older 
 girls; the Alcotts and the Gardners are particu- 
 larly mentioned. There were also songs in costume. 
 Anna was a Scotch laddie in bonnet and plaid. But 
 Louisa was the star of the evening. Her mother 
 had stained her face, arms, and ankles, to make her 
 look like an Indian girl, and she was very hand- 
 some in the costume so cleverly contrived for her. 
 She sang some songs on that occasion that our 
 mothers or our grandmothers may remember, for 
 it is sixty years since this memorable birthday feast. 
 One began: 
 
 Wild roved an Indian girl, sweet Alfarata. 
 
 Another : 
 
 The blackbird was singing 
 
 On Michigan's shore, 
 
 As sweetly and gayly as ever before.
 
 A SIMPLE LIFE. 39 
 
 She also recited, and did character sketches, and 
 was pronounced by everyone to be the life of Liz- 
 zie's party. 
 
 There were many other festive occasions at Still 
 River, but they were very poor and living was hard, 
 so they determined to go back to Concord and be- 
 gin again, a hard thing to do, but Mr. Alcott was 
 brave. His possessions were few, but there was 
 love enough in the family to furnish a palace, and 
 indomitable courage to carry them through, so the 
 brave pilgrims shouldered their burdens once more 
 and pushed on.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE HEART OF A GIRL. 
 
 |ITH the return to Concord, life began in 
 earnest for Louisa and her sisters. The 
 little home was very bare, for the work 
 that came to Mr. Alcott was of the most 
 trifling kind, and Mrs. Alcott knew that she must 
 stifle all feelings of pride if she wished assistance 
 from any of their friends. She stopped at no sort of 
 work which could help them in their scanty living, 
 and once back in the old town among familiar land- 
 marks and familiar faces, their old friends came 
 around them again and stretched forth kind hands 
 to pull them on their feet. These friends were 
 among the few who had not entirely forsaken them. 
 They had not approved of the Fruitlands experi- 
 ment, but even though they had smiled at its od- 
 dities, they had loved the simple kindliness of Mr. 
 Alcott, and welcomed him warmly when he came 
 back among them. 
 
 Foremost among these was Ralph Waldo Emer- 
 son, the philosopher and poet, who for many years 
 had lived in Concord, and whose home was a meet- 
 ing-place for the best thinkers and writers of the 
 40
 
 THE HEART OP A GIRL. 41 
 
 day. Like Mr. Alcott, he was a reformer, but he 
 had the wonderful gift of persuasion, convincing 
 people by his very simplicity, and so turning them, 
 gently and unconsciously, into new ways. 
 
 This great man represented the best thought of 
 his time. He was among the first in New England 
 to turn aside into broader paths of learning and re- 
 search. He became a leader among such noted men 
 as Ellery Channing, Thoreau, Theodore Parker, 
 and many others known to fame, and his greatness 
 has seemed to live above them all. Certain it is 
 that he was loved by his friends, both young and 
 old, and to-day his grave is visited by people from 
 far and near, who knew and honored him, either 
 personally or through his writings. 
 
 From her earliest childhood Louisa had adored 
 him. Her first remembrance of him dates back to 
 the time when she was eight years old. She was 
 sent to inquire for little Waldo, who was desperately 
 ill, and Emerson himself opened the door to the 
 little girl. Something in his face, so changed and 
 worn by sorrow, startled her, and she could hardly 
 stammer out her message. " Child he is dead ! " 
 was his answer, as he closed the door gently, and 
 Louisa, awed by her first glimpse of a grief too 
 deep for words, ran home with the sad tidings to 
 her anxious father and mother. 
 
 After they came back from Fruitlands, however, 
 she gives us a brighter picture : 
 
 " Later," she writes, " when we went to school
 
 42 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 with the little Emersons, in their father's barn, I 
 remember many times when their illustrious papa 
 was our good playfellow. Often piling us into a 
 bedecked hay cart, he took us to berry, bathe, or 
 picnic at Walden [Henry Thoreau's haunt], mak- 
 ing our day charming and memorable by showing 
 us the places he loved, the wood people Thoreau 
 had introduced to him, or the wild flowers, whose 
 hidden homes he had discovered, so that when years 
 afterwards we read of ' the sweet rhodora in the 
 woods ' and the ' burly dozing bumblebee,' or 
 laughed over * The Mountain and the Squirrel,' we 
 recognized old friends and thanked him for the 
 delicate truth and beauty which made them im- 
 mortal for us and others." 
 
 To the turbulent, restless, half-grown girl, the 
 calm philosopher, with his gentle ways and practical 
 common-sense, was an anchor indeed. In her 
 warm little heart he was held so sacredly that he 
 himself would have smiled at such worship. But 
 it did Louisa good; it came to her when her eager 
 young mind was seeking for higher things, some- 
 thing apart from the everyday cares and worries 
 of the struggling home. 
 
 She went to him for advice about her reading. 
 She used to enter his library, no doubt in the way 
 Jo entered Mr. Lawrence's, and ask him what she 
 should read. With the blessed audacity of youth, 
 she never dreamed that she might be wasting his 
 valuable time; but no time, in Emerson's opinion,
 
 THE HEART OF A GIRL. 43 
 
 was ever wasted in helping young people ; and under 
 his guidance Louisa began to know the riches of 
 Shakespeare, Dante, Goethe, and Carlyle. She was 
 at liberty to roam all around his book-lined walls 
 and select what pleased her most. If it chanced to 
 be too old for her, he would say quietly : " Wait a 
 little for that ; meanwhile try this, and if you like it, 
 come again," and the girl would go home to read 
 and absorb what he had selected for her. 
 
 It was after reading Bettine's correspondence 
 with Goethe that Louisa began to place her father's 
 friend upon a pedestal, and worship him in true 
 romantic fashion, as Bettine worshiped Goethe. 
 She fell to writing poetry ; she kept what she called 
 her " heart journal," and took to wandering in the 
 moonlight when she should have been safe in her 
 bed. She wrote letters to him full of wild romance, 
 but she never sent them, though she told him about 
 them in after years, when he and she could laugh 
 together over her girlish fancy. Once, she tells us, 
 she sat in a tall cherry-tree at midnight and sang to 
 the moon till the owls scared her to bed; she left 
 wild flowers on her " Master's " doorstep, and sang 
 Mignon's song under his window, in very bad 
 German. 
 
 All this sounds absurd, but it was sober earnest 
 to the little girl in her teens, and Emerson was the 
 safest sort for a girl to love so gentle, so serene, so 
 wise, yet with a simple everyday reasoning power, 
 as sound at the core as a winter apple.
 
 44 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 There was still another teacher whose influence 
 was a great force in Louisa's life. This was Henry 
 Thoreau, the poet and naturalist. From him the 
 Alcott girls learned to know the Nature they already 
 loved, and many a happy day was spent with him, 
 studying the secrets of the wild flowers and the 
 language of the birds. Louisa drank in the delight 
 of it all, and everything she wrote in later life shows 
 just that loving knowledge of Nature which makes 
 all her stories so attractive. 
 
 Thoreau was a genius, as much a part of the Con- 
 cord soil as the trees and the flowers which were 
 rooted there. He was born in the placid little town, 
 and was quite content to live and die there. He be- 
 lieved, with Emerson, that traveling was a " fool's 
 paradise," and when occasionally he did go off on 
 brief excursions, it was only to return far more 
 satisfied with Concord and its surroundings. Many 
 people have thought that because he built himself a 
 hut in Walden forest and often camped there, that 
 he lived the life of a hermit, but this was far from 
 true. Though he never married, he lived very hap- 
 pily in Concord with his mother, two sisters, and a 
 brother, whose untimely death was a great sorrow 
 to him. 
 
 It was by the river that the children could almost 
 always find him, for he loved the banks, so over- 
 grown with grasses and slowly wandering through 
 the town. He would guide his boat through its 
 many windings, he would bathe in its waters, skate
 
 THE HEART OF A GIRL. 45 
 
 over its frozen surface, or perhaps gather from its 
 shores or inlets some rare plant whose secrets he 
 wanted to know. He walked, too, long tramps of 
 miles and miles, and it is from him, no doubt, that 
 Louisa learned to love such active exercise. It 
 was twenty miles from Concord to Boston, and 
 many a time the sturdy girl trudged the distance, 
 often we may suppose in Thoreau's company, and 
 then the walk would be delightful, for there was no 
 blade of grass, nor flower, nor tree, that was not 
 known to the gentle woodsman, and the birds, the 
 squirrels, and the insects were his comrades. 
 
 From such a teacher the children of Concord 
 learned the poetry of Nature, and loved the poet who 
 made the flowers speak, and the trees whisper 
 among their tall branches ; who talked with the chip- 
 munks and called the birds about him as he sat 
 silent on the river bank; who paddled his canoe 
 with Indian skill and coaxed the very fishes up to 
 the surface to feed out of his hand. 
 
 Concord was just the place for hearty, simple 
 girls like these; breathing history at every step, 
 there was something homelike and delightful in its 
 surroundings, and it was always remarkable for the 
 number of happy young people who might be seen 
 in the winter, skating on the hardened snow through 
 the pine woods, and in the summer, bathing or 
 boating in the river, the Concord, to which Thoreau 
 gave its Indian name, Muskataquid (the Grass- 
 grown), and which has found its way into many of
 
 46 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Miss Alcott's stories. It was the scene of Amy's 
 skating disaster in " Little Women," and Laurie 
 pitched Camp Lawrence upon its smiling shores, 
 while " Aunt Jo " had it comfortably near dear old 
 Plumfield for the benefit of " Little Men," and the 
 boys and girls of Harmony Village, where " Jack 
 and Jill*' lived, must have used this same river on 
 the picnic which winds up the story, Harmony Vil- 
 lage, of course, being only another name for Con- 
 cord. In the Alcotts' day there were masquerades 
 on its placid waters ; gay barges, full of historic 
 characters in costume, glided down stream, and 
 sometimes savages in their war-paint darted from 
 the lily-fringed banks and attacked the gay mas- 
 queraders. On the anniversary of the Battle of 
 Lexington, the farmers who began the Revolution 
 would sometimes return " to masquerade with their 
 fair descendants." 
 
 To Louisa this river brought joy untold; many a 
 long afternoon we can picture her wandering off 
 by herself to enjoy the beauty and the silence of it 
 all. Full of life, and talkative as she was, there 
 was nothing she loved so well as the vast stillness of 
 a great solitude, and if there was a mysterious 
 whispering among the pines in the forest, why, so 
 much the better ; her vivid imagination peopled it at 
 once and she was never lonely. 
 
 It was about this time that she came into prom- 
 inence as a story-teller. The woods and the na- 
 ture studies gave her material, and the " audience "
 
 THE HEART OF A GIRL. 47 
 
 consisted of little Ellen Emerson, who listened spell- 
 bound to the tales of the flowers. These stories, 
 each quaint and fanciful, were collected several years 
 later and published under the title of " Flower 
 Fables." 
 
 There were no special girls' schools in those days ; 
 there was an unusual number of " barn schools," 
 however, and some enterprising young teacher 
 would borrow her neighbor's barn, collect the neigh- 
 boring children, secure what boxes and benches she 
 could for seats and desks, and " establish " her 
 school. This was usually in the summer time, and 
 Louisa and her sisters attended one or two. When 
 they grew older, Anna and Louisa held " barn 
 schools " of their own. But there were other and 
 more attractive uses for the barns. Wherever they 
 chanced to be, whether at Fruitlands or Concord, 
 the old barn was the scene of many dramatic tri- 
 umphs. Whatever the trials of everyday life, they 
 could escape from them into a world of romance in 
 the barn; there they could revel in luxury and 
 splendor, and Louisa and Anna could act to their 
 hearts' content. This was great sport and all the 
 Concord young people enjoyed it. 
 
 There were the three Emerson children, Ellen, 
 Edith, and Edward ; the three Hawthorne children, 
 Una, Julian, and Rose; the Alcott girls and many 
 other friends, whose talents, great or small, were 
 called upon at need. Louisa at an early age wrote 
 the most romantic plays; one of them we have all
 
 48 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 read in " Little Women," but there are many others 
 which have been collected into book form under the 
 title of " Comic Tragedies," and are extremely inter- 
 esting, if only to show how the girl's mind was 
 teeming with its hidden fancies, and these plays 
 were produced with wonderful success. The cos- 
 tumes were marvelous ; the two older girls and Mrs. 
 Alcott were clever in contriving something out of 
 nothing. A scrap found its uses ; a red scarf, a 
 long cloak, a big hat with a plume stolen from 
 some departed bonnet, looked positively regal on 
 the barn stage; scenery was nothing to these art- 
 ists, who made castles, enchanted forests, caves, 
 or ladies' bowers on demand. Barns, too, were 
 delightful theaters, because of their well-known 
 advantages; one could make desperate but safe 
 leaps from the beams, and could disappear on 
 short notice into the mangers, and there were 
 " wings " in unexpected corners that could be 
 used with effect. 
 
 Some time before the Fruitlands experiment, 
 Mrs. Alcott's father, Colonel May, died, and left her 
 a small amount of money which she determined to 
 invest in a home. It would at least be a roof over 
 their heads while they were struggling for a living. 
 Mr. Emerson, on being consulted, advised the pur- 
 chase of a house in Concord, and generously came 
 to her help with a gift of five hundred dollars. With 
 this she bought the place known as Hillside, which 
 afterwards became famous as the home of the " Lit-
 
 THE HEART OF A GIRL. 49 
 
 tie Women," and later as the residence of the Haw- 
 thornes. 
 
 Nathaniel Hawthorne was another whose life and 
 writings greatly influenced Louisa. The handsome, 
 shy man was at his best with children, and his 
 stories held the girl spellbound, as they have held 
 many other girls and boys as well as men and 
 women from that day to this. She pored over his 
 books, the more weird and fanciful holding her with 
 keener interest, and love and admiration for the 
 writer took root in her heart, and grew with her 
 growth. 
 
 But in spite of the delights of Concord, Louisa 
 was beginning to feel the weight of the family trou- 
 bles. She saw her father struggling day by day, 
 earning a little here and there by the work of his 
 hands, when his talents as a teacher were running to 
 waste. She saw her mother carrying burdens too 
 heavy for her, and this hurt her even more. A noble 
 purpose took root in that loyal Alcott heart of hers, 
 to mend their broken fortunes and to give to this 
 dear, devoted mother the comforts which had been 
 denied her for so many years. 
 
 She was only a girl, and the way was dark before 
 her and full of obstacles. There were so few paths 
 open to the girls of her day ; teaching seemed to be 
 the only thing, and Mr. Emerson's barn was the 
 scene of her first experiment. This did not pay 
 very handsomely and could not support a fair-sized, 
 healthy family. In summer they could get along
 
 50 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 somehow, but in winter the struggle was hard in- 
 deed, until at last a kind friend, passing through 
 Concord, discovered how badly things were going 
 and promised to find employment for Mrs. Alcott, 
 if she would come to Boston. So once again the 
 family changed its home. In 1848, they were set- 
 tled in Boston, where Mrs. Alcott became a visitor 
 to the poor, in the employ of a few benevolent soci- 
 eties, and also kept an intelligence office. This was 
 a valuable experience for both mother and daugh- 
 ters. 
 
 Mr. Alcott, whose flow of language was always 
 wonderful, began to hold conversations on his fa- 
 vorite subjects, and drew about him a small circle 
 of thoughtful people. This was congenial work for 
 him, though very small pay, but his employment 
 made them all happy, and the Alcotts were notably 
 a family who gave more than they received. His 
 talks, when they turned on the ancient poets and 
 philosophers, were most interesting and instructive, 
 especially to young people, over whom he had great 
 influence, but Mrs. Cheney, who has so carefully 
 edited Miss Alcott's " Life, Letters and Journals," 
 tells us " his peculiar theories of temperament and 
 diet never failed to call out discussion and opposi- 
 tion." 
 
 " One of my earliest recollections of Louisa," she 
 writes, " is on one of these occasions when he was 
 emphasizing his doctrine that a vegetable diet would 
 produce unruffled sweetness of temper and disposi-
 
 THE HEART OF A GIRL. 51 
 
 tion. I heard a voice behind me saying to her 
 neighbor : ' I don't know about that. I've never 
 eaten any meat, and I'm awful cross and irritable 
 very often.' " 
 
 The Alcotts stood little chance of growing rich or 
 even reasonably comfortable ; they were generous in 
 the fullest sense of the word, often depriving them- 
 selves to give help and comfort to others. The well- 
 known story of carrying their breakfast to a starv- 
 ing family is so sweetly described in the second 
 chapter of " Little Women," that it is better read 
 there. Another time they lent their dinner to a 
 neighbor who at short notice had to entertain dis- 
 tinguished guests. 
 
 " Another time," writes Miss Alcott, " one snowy 
 Saturday night, when our wood was very low, a 
 poor child came to beg a little, as the baby was sick 
 and the father on a spree, with all his wages. My 
 mother hesitated at first, as we also had a baby; 
 very cold weather was upon us, and a Sunday to be 
 got through before more wood could be had. My 
 father said : ' Give half our stock and trust in Provi- 
 dence; the weather will moderate or wood will 
 come.' Mother laughed, and answered in her cheery 
 way : ' Well, their need is greater than ours, and if 
 our half gives out we can go to bed and tell stories.' 
 So a generous half went to the poor neighbor, and 
 a little later in the evening, while the storm still 
 raged and we were about to cover our fire to keep it, 
 a knock came, and a farmer who usually supplied
 
 52 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 us appeared, saying anxiously : ' I started for Bos- 
 ton with a load of wood, but it drifts so, I want to 
 go home. Wouldn't you like to have me drop the 
 wood here ; it would accommodate me and you need 
 not hurry about paying for it' ' Yes/ said Father, 
 and as the man went off he turned to Mother with 
 a look that much impressed us children with his 
 gifts as a seer : ' Didn't I tell you wood would come 
 if the weather did not moderate ? ' Mother's mot- 
 to was * Hope and keep busy,' and one of her say- 
 ings, ' Cast your bread upon the waters, and after 
 many days it will come back buttered.' " 
 
 There is another tale of a tramp who boldly asked 
 Mr. Alcott for a loan of five dollars. Mr. Alcott 
 searched in his pockets, but a ten dollar bill was all 
 he could find. " I haven't what you want," he said 
 in his gentle way, " but take this and pay me when 
 you can." With a grin the man went off, and Mr. 
 Alcott was laughed at by his friends, who discov- 
 ered that the tramp was a man of bad character and 
 they felt he would never return. They were mis- 
 taken, however; something in this open-handed 
 generosity must have touched the hardened sinner, 
 for he returned the amount in a short time, much 
 to the surprise of everyone, and Mr. Alcott's satis- 
 faction. 
 
 Thus, giving much, receiving little, finding it 
 hard to make ends meet, but happy in one another, 
 despite the short lengths, the Alcott children grew 
 in strength and sweetness. They had learned many
 
 THE HEART OF A GIRL. 53 
 
 serious lessons on their short life journey, but the 
 seeds of patience and endurance had been planted 
 in their loyal young hearts, and already Louisa's 
 hopes and ambitions were eager to try their wings 
 outside of the family nest.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SEEKING A VOCATION. 
 
 | HE four little women paused now in their 
 pilgrimage to take breath and look about 
 them. Two of them were now ready to 
 begin work, the other two were old 
 enough to fill their places in the home life and " help 
 mother " as Anna and Louisa had done; and here 
 it is well for us to pause and look at these girls, 
 about to take their first flight in the world. During 
 their life in Boston things were a little easier; a 
 small though regular income came to them through 
 Mrs. Alcott's work, and they were surrounded by 
 friends and relatives who were kind in many ways, 
 but the two older girls felt the need of adding their 
 small share to the family support. 
 
 They missed the delights of Concord; Boston 
 was a good place to work in not to think in. 
 Among the hills and woods of their beloved little 
 town it was different, but in Boston " the bustle and 
 dirt and change send all lovely images and restful 
 feelings away," Louisa wrote in her journal when 
 she was seventeen, adding farther on, " I see now 
 what Nature did for me, and my ' romantic tastes,' 
 
 54
 
 SEEKING A VOCATION. 55 
 
 as people called that love of solitude, and out-of- 
 door life, taught me much." 
 
 Upon Anna the changes pressed lightly. Of a 
 calm, sweet, serious nature like her father, she took 
 things as they came, unquestioningly, uncomplain- 
 ingly, content if they were all together, unhappy at 
 the separations that interrupted their home life. 
 She was never worried about herself or her short- 
 comings, as Louisa was ; she suited her daily needs 
 to others, and expanded in the moral sunshine 
 which the Alcott family managed always to have 
 about them. No matter what their circumstances, 
 they had high purposes in life, and though Mrs. Al- 
 cott might occasionally yield to a quick temper, and 
 Mr. Alcott to hours of depression, and the girls' 
 moods might vent themselves in harmless bickering, 
 the real harmony of their daily life was sound and 
 undisturbed. 
 
 Mrs. Alcott had three simple rules for the guid- 
 ance of her girls : " Rule yourself. Love your 
 neighbor. Do the duty which lies nearest to you." 
 
 Anna found them easy to follow ; her disposition 
 reminded one of the fair, placid river beside which 
 they dwelt for so many years : clear, limpid, deep in 
 many places, glancing in the sunshine, full of rip- 
 ples when a storm passed over it Usually smiling 
 and smooth of surface, there were swift undercur- 
 rents and strong emotions behind the serenity. 
 
 Quite different was Louisa ; the undercurrent was 
 very strong, and the turbulent, restless young soul 
 
 5
 
 56 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 struggled against it. Her hardest lesson was to 
 rule herself. From her earliest childhood she had 
 encountered this difficulty, and all through her early 
 life her impatient spirit waged constant warfare 
 against the poverty which seemed so hard to con- 
 quer. When her mind ran to poetry, as it often 
 did at this period, the result showed itself in rhyth- 
 mical sermons on cheerfulness, patience, or faith. 
 Here is one which the readers of " Little Women " 
 no doubt remember ; full of faults, it is yet vigorous, 
 atune to the motion of the strong young arms, up 
 and down the washboard ; it is called : 
 
 A SONG FROM THE SUDS. 
 
 Queen of my tub, I merrily sing, 
 
 While the white foam rises high, 
 And sturdily wash and rinse and wring, 
 
 And fasten the clothes to dry; 
 Then out in the free fresh air they swing, 
 
 Under the sunny sky. 
 I wish we could wash from our hearts and souls 
 
 The stains of the week away, 
 And let water and air by their magic make 
 
 Ourselves as pure as they ; 
 Then on the earth there would be indeed 
 
 A glorious washing-day ! 
 Along the path of a useful life 
 
 Will heartsease ever bloom? 
 The busy mind has no time to think 
 
 Of sorrow, or care, or gloom ; 
 And anxious thoughts may be swept away 
 
 As we busily wield a broom.
 
 SEEKING A VOCATION. 57 
 
 I am glad a task to me is given, 
 
 To labor at day by day ; 
 For it brings me health, and strength, and hope, 
 
 And I cheerfully learn to say, 
 " Head, you may think ; Heart, you may feel ; 
 
 But Hand, you shall work alway." 
 
 Head and heart and hand, they were engines of 
 energy to this impetuous young person ; the head 
 and the heart would have galloped away with her, 
 had not a wise mother's foresight trained the hands 
 to the needs of every day. Louisa at seventeen 
 could wash and iron, cook and scrub, sweep and 
 dust, darn and mend, " turn " and sew. There was 
 plenty of " turning " to do, no doubt, for a really 
 new dress was a rare occurrence among the Alcott 
 girls. Kind relatives and friends were constantly 
 supplying them with good things which their clever 
 fingers fashioned into very respectable additions to 
 their wardrobes, and that interesting chapter in " An 
 Old-Fashioned Girl," where Polly presides at the 
 making over of Fan's last year's gowns, is doubly 
 interesting because so thoroughly true to life. Pol- 
 ly tells the story of a little checked silk which was 
 sent to her mother in a lot of other discarded finery ; 
 this was carefully washed to look as good as new, 
 and after much fussing and planning, a complete 
 gown was cut out, coming short only by half of 
 one sleeve; the family was in despair, but at last, 
 by clever matching and patching, the remaining 
 scraps, ten in all, were neatly put together into
 
 58 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 the under half of the sleeve, and no one was the 
 wiser. 
 
 They must have had funny bundles sent to them 
 by friends who had not learned the art of giving 
 wisely, and had it not been that the calls of the 
 drama claimed the finery that fell to their portion, 
 the " shabby silk bonnets and dirty flounced gowns " 
 would have gone the way of all such rubbish. The 
 following nonsense verse must have relieved Lou- 
 isa's mind on one of these occasions: 
 
 To poor country folks, 
 
 Who haven't any clothes, 
 Rich folks to relieve them, 
 
 Send old lace gowns and satin bows. 
 
 Their uncle, the Rev. Samuel J. May, lived in 
 Boston and was very kind to his sister's family. 
 The girls loved him, for he resembled their mother 
 in many ways. He was a brave, simple, single- 
 hearted gentleman, whose word was a power among 
 the best people in the city, and he was courageous 
 enough to preach antislavery from his pulpit at a 
 time when the mere whisper of such a thing was 
 considered treason. It is little wonder that Louisa 
 and her sisters, brought up under the shadow of the 
 coming struggle, should become sturdy abolition- 
 ists in those Boston days. The men and women 
 with whom they were thrown, whom they were 
 taught to revere and to follow as guides, were 
 stanch advocates of freedom for the slave.
 
 SEEKING A VOCATION. 59 
 
 There was Mr. Alcott himself, who read Socrates 
 and Plato and preached the philosophy of free- 
 dom ; and Emerson, who broke the fetters of the 
 thinking world and preached practical freedom for 
 everyone of high or low degree; and Thoreau, the 
 woodsman, whose love of freedom drove him to the 
 forests and the streams, preached of it in. his elo- 
 quent way when thoughtful people met to protest 
 against the growing evil of the times ; and Theodore 
 Parker, the famous Unitarian minister, whose 
 grandfather, Captain John Parker, commanded the 
 handful of men who faced the British regulars on 
 Lexington Green when they were ordered to lay 
 down their arms and disperse. 
 
 Theodore Parker exerted a great influence on 
 Louisa ; his cheerful religion preached to her better 
 than a dozen sermons. He always drew around 
 him young men and women who needed the sort of 
 help which he could give, and he gave it freely. 
 There was Lydia Maria Child, one of the best- 
 known writers of her day, a woman of powerful 
 mind, who gave herself heart and soul to the cause. 
 There were Ellery Channing, William Garrison, and 
 Wendell Phillips, who not only came into the lives 
 of the young Alcotts and visited in their home, but 
 kindled their eager minds by their eloquence in pub- 
 lic speaking. 
 
 Of the two younger Alcott girls there is little to 
 say at this period. Beth or Betty or Lizzie or Bess, 
 as she was variously called by the different mem-
 
 60 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 bers of her family, at fourteen, was a sweet retir- 
 ing girl, very much as Miss Alcott describes her in 
 " Little Women." 
 
 " 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." This is the tribute Miss 
 Alcott paid this dear sister in the early pages of 
 " Little Women," ten years after her death. She 
 was not only fond of music, but she showed great 
 talent for the piano, and many said had she lived, her 
 gift would have soared above the gifts of her sisters. 
 
 May's artistic efforts began at babyhood ; every- 
 thing that came within her reach from the time she 
 was old enough to hold a pencil was either sketched 
 or copied. She was decided in her tastes and good 
 to look upon, a golden-haired child with blue eyes, 
 the marring feature being a rather flat nose, which 
 caused her much sorrow, and we can fancy the many 
 painful attempts she made to squeeze it into proper 
 shape with the help of a clothespin. 
 
 The first two summers of their stay in Boston 
 were spent in their uncle's roomy house, with many 
 comforts about them, which they enjoyed, and yet 
 it is here that Louisa had some moments of mourn- 
 ful reflection. " Seventeen years have I lived," she 
 writes in her journal, " and yet so little do I know, 
 and so much remains to be done before I begin to be
 
 SEEKING A VOCATION. 61 
 
 what I desire a truly good and useful woman. In 
 looking over our journals, father says, ' Anna's is 
 about other people ; Louisa's about herself ! ' That is 
 true, for I don't talk about myself ; yet must always 
 think of the wilful, moody girl I try to manage, and 
 in my journal I write of her to see how she gets on. 
 Anna is so good, she need not take care of herself, 
 and can enjoy other people." 
 
 Louisa was evidently aware of her good looks, for 
 she says, " If I look in my glass, I try to keep down 
 vanity about my long hair, my well-shaped head, 
 and my good nose." 
 
 But these were not her only beauties; she was 
 tall and graceful as a deer, the hair she speaks of 
 was a beautiful glossy chestnut mane, her complex- 
 ion was clear and full of color, and her blue eyes 
 were deep-set and most expressive. " My quick 
 tongue is always getting me into trouble," she goes 
 on, " and my moodiness makes it hard to be cheer- 
 ful, when I think how poor we are, how much worry 
 it is to live, and how many things I long to do 
 I never can. So every day is a battle, and I'm so 
 tired I don't want to live, only it's cowardly to die 
 till you have done something." How many a girl 
 with life and health and energy has felt this strange 
 depression with much less reason behind it, for poor 
 Louisa was passing through a hard experience at 
 this time. 
 
 In a mad fit of charity, the Alcotts opened their 
 gates to some poor immigrants who camped in their
 
 62 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 garden for a day. There was smallpox raging 
 among them, and the whole Alcott family caught 
 the disease. They had a sorry time of it, especially 
 as they had no doctor, and while the girls took it 
 lightly, Mr. and Mrs. Alcott were very ill; every- 
 body kept away from them and it was no wonder 
 that poor Louisa felt low in her mind. 
 
 Anna went away for a change after her illness, 
 leaving a school of twenty in Louisa's charge, a 
 great responsibility for a girl of seventeen, but it 
 was a fine experience, and though as usual she 
 missed Anna and shed many tears over her ab- 
 sence, she managed to work her way straight into 
 the hearts of her children; she told them fascinat- 
 ing stories, which made the lessons pleasanter and 
 showed at the same time her wonderful power of 
 interesting them. Indeed, she succeeded so well 
 with her pupils that she began to think that teach- 
 ing would be her chosen work; but in this she was 
 mistaken; she was to have many experiences be- 
 fore she found her niche. 
 
 Though encouraged about her school, she found 
 it hard work even when Anna came back to help 
 her. " I get very little time to write or think," she 
 says in her journal, " for my working days have 
 begun and when school is over Anna wants me, so 
 I have no quiet. A little solitude is good for me. 
 In the quiet I see my faults and try to mend them, 
 but deary me, I don't get on at all ! " 
 
 A year later her ambition pointed in another
 
 SEEKING A VOCATION. 63 
 
 direction. Always interested in dramatic things, 
 she launched out into the writing of most wonder- 
 ful plays, in which Anna gave much assistance. Of 
 course they were all written in the loftiest, most 
 high-flown language, with stilted sentiments, tales 
 of chivalry, of impossible adventures, all dealing 
 with lords and ladies, fairies and spirits of good 
 and evil ; no commonplace hero or heroine blots the 
 pages, the triumph of virtue over vice is the in- 
 variable climax. These plays, many of which have 
 been preserved, are all extremely girlish, just what 
 one would imagine from the pen of a girl of sev- 
 enteen, full of a girl's dreams and fancies, glowing 
 with romance, quite apart from the everyday life 
 about her. Full of trap-doors and secret, haunted 
 chambers were her castles, deep and dark and 
 moldy were her dungeons; the dismal clank of 
 chains announced her captives, her ladies were 
 ethereal in their loveliness, her knights were always 
 superb specimens of manhood, her villains das- 
 tardly to the heart's core. There were mysteries 
 and concealments and absurd situations, but the 
 dialogue was clever and the story was put together 
 in a way to delight a youthful audience, for they 
 were constantly acting dramas in which Louisa and 
 Anna took the principal parts. In the acting they 
 were ably assisted by some intimate friends who 
 had remarkable talent, and as Mrs. Alcott encour- 
 aged the private theatricals, they made a success in 
 their small way. This inspired the Alcott girls
 
 64 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 to higher ambitions they were wild to go on the 
 stage. 
 
 " Anna wants to be an actress, and so do I," 
 writes Louisa. " We could make plenty of money 
 perhaps, and it is a very gay life. Mother says we 
 are too young and must wait." 
 
 A sagacious lady was Mrs. Alcott, who knew her 
 young daughters better than they knew themselves. 
 Louisa liked tragic plays and determined to be as 
 great as Mrs. Siddons ; there was no halfway about 
 Louisa, and she was really talented. One of her 
 relatives, Dr. Windship of Roxbury, took a great 
 interest in her dramatic work and offered one of her 
 plays, " The Rival Prima Donnas," to Mr. Barry of 
 the Boston Theater. He liked it very much and de- 
 termined to put it on the stage, Mrs. Barry and 
 Mrs. Wood consenting to take the principal char- 
 acters. There was some hitch in the arrangements 
 and it was never produced in public, but after this 
 Louisa had a free pass to the theater, which she 
 enjoyed immensely. 
 
 Great as was her desire to go on the stage, she 
 was sensible enough to listen to her mother's wise 
 counsel and keep from the dangers and temptations 
 of such a life. Clever as she was, she had yet to 
 learn that cleverness alone does not make a great 
 actress, and she was not a girl to be satisfied with 
 any but the first rank. 
 
 Miss Alcott herself, in her novel, " Work," which 
 is based chiefly on her own experiences, says of
 
 SEEKING A VOCATION. 65 
 
 Christie Devon, the heroine : " She had no talent 
 except that which may be developed in any girl 
 possessing the lively fancy, sympathetic nature, and 
 ambitious spirit which make some girls naturally 
 dramatic. This was to be only one of many ex- 
 periences which were to show her her own weak- 
 ness and strength, and through effort, pain, and dis- 
 appointment, to fit her to play a nobler part on a 
 wider stage." 
 
 This was written long after Louisa's passion for 
 the stage had died a natural death. She acted many 
 times privately, and often publicly for charity, and 
 always with a certain charm and delicacy. She 
 gave parts of Dickens extremely well, and read 
 Shakespeare pleasingly. She was in her element 
 with character sketches and imitations, but the 
 divine fire she certainly had not, else she never 
 would have given up her dreams, nor would her 
 mother have counseled her to do so. 
 
 Mrs. Alcott was ever eager for her children's 
 advancement, and if on their life journey they could 
 see a short cut to prosperity, hers was the hand to 
 send them on their way; all their youthful schemes 
 and plans received encouragement, and though 
 many of their Puritan friends might have viewed 
 the stage with disfavor, Mrs. Alcott had no such 
 prejudice. Indeed, her own work in a broad field 
 among the poor gave her foresight and wisdom 
 above the average woman of her time. 
 
 The keeping of an intelligence office in those days
 
 66 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 did not mean what it does now; the best ladies in 
 the land were employed in this work, and the poor 
 women who applied for employment were in many 
 instances quite as good. Honest labor was never 
 degrading to these proud Alcotts, and the secret of 
 Louisa's later success was that in those early years 
 she hesitated at nothing which could aid in the sup- 
 port of the family. 
 
 They were living at this time in a small house on 
 High Street. Anna and Louisa taught, Lizzie kept 
 house, May went to school, and Mr. Alcott wrote 
 and talked when he could get classes or " conversa- 
 tions." His influence was great, especially among 
 young people, but somehow while they were willing 
 to listen to words of wisdom, they were not always 
 so willing to pay for them. The Alcott home, poor 
 though it was, was full of love, and a shelter for 
 the homeless and loveless who knocked at their 
 doors, for these great-hearted people had an endless 
 supply of sympathy for all in need. 
 
 In 1852, her first story came out, for which she 
 received the sum of five dollars. It was written in 
 Concord when she was sixteen, and in her own opin- 
 ion it was great trash; she read it to her sisters, 
 who praised it, not knowing the author ; and when 
 she proudly announced the name, there was true 
 rejoicing. 
 
 They were constantly having little jubilees ; some- 
 thing was always " turning up," and the disappoint- 
 ments were seldom spoken of. Occasionally a
 
 SEEKING A VOCATION. 67 
 
 moan was made when experience proved too hard a 
 teacher, and one of these experiences Louisa put 
 into a story called " How I went out to Service." 
 
 A gentleman came to Mrs. Alcott's intelligence 
 office in search of a companion for his father and 
 sister. Only light work was to be required of her, 
 and as Mrs. Alcott could think of no one to fill 
 the position, Louisa suggested herself, and went off 
 happily to her new work, secure in the belief that 
 she would receive all kindness and respect; but her 
 two months' trial changed her opinion, and she 
 began to understand, from the unkindness with 
 which she, a girl of high spirit and intelligence, was 
 treated, why it was that many preferred working in 
 factories or shops rather than be subjected to what 
 she suffered. 
 
 Another experience, not quite so painful, was yet 
 pathetic enough in a whimsical way. In January, 
 1853, Mr. Alcott started for the West to try his 
 luck with lecturing; he went off full of hope, leav- 
 ing Mrs. Alcott with several boarders, Anna teach- 
 ing at Syracuse, and Louisa with a home school of 
 ten pupils. This was his opportunity, and the whole 
 family eagerly awaited the result. The girls built 
 many castles ; at last "Father" would be appreciated, 
 and after the manner of young, hopeful spirits, they 
 actually began to bank on the lecture money. In 
 February he returned, arriving late at night, and 
 rousing the family by a sudden peal of the bell. 
 Up they all rose from their beds, five capped and
 
 68 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 nightgowned figures. Mrs. Alcott led the way and 
 ecstatically crying, " My husband ! " flung herself 
 into the arms of the returned wanderer, while the 
 four girls embraced whatever portion of the be- 
 loved form they could get hold of. Then he was 
 borne off and fed and warmed and cuddled, before 
 a word was said about the success of the lecture 
 tour. He talked a good deal, but only about the 
 pleasant things, until asked suddenly : 
 
 " Well, what did they pay you ? " 
 
 With a pathetic smile he opened his pocketbook 
 and took out one dollar. 
 
 " Only that," he answered. " My overcoat was 
 stolen and I had to buy a shawl. Many promises 
 were not kept and traveling is costly, but," he 
 added, with a serenity which neither time nor mis- 
 fortune could shatter, " I have opened the way and 
 another year shall do better." 
 
 " I shall never forget," writes Louisa, " how 
 beautifully Mother answered him, though the dear, 
 hopeful soul had built so much on his success ; but 
 with a beaming face she kissed him, saying : ' I call 
 that doing very well; since you are safely home, 
 dear, we won't ask anything more.' Anna and I 
 choked down our tears and took a little lesson in 
 real love, which we never forgot, nor the look that 
 the tired man and tender woman gave one another. 
 It was half tragic and comic, for Father was very 
 dirty and sleepy and Mother in a big nightcap and 
 funny old jacket."
 
 SEEKING A VOCATION. 69 
 
 And so with " tips and downs," plenty of frolick- 
 ing, an overflow of hard times, a glimpse of men 
 and women that even the beloved haunts of Concord 
 could never have given her, Louisa passed those 
 seven years of her life that saw the girl grow into 
 a capable young woman, sturdy of hand and heart, 
 ready to do and dare for those she loved, full of the 
 dreams and ambitions of hopeful youth. A typi- 
 cal American maiden of those ante-bellum days, 
 with the strong New England spirit of intolerance 
 for slavery, a desire to do right in the face of all 
 obstacles, a determination to win from life, by her 
 own effort, the fortune which could not come to her 
 in any other way.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 
 
 (HE proudest moment of Louisa's life 
 was the day which saw the publication 
 of " Flower Fables." The book breathed 
 of the woods and the wild things that 
 grew there, for she had learned the flower secrets 
 from her old friend Thoreau, and these she told 
 to the little Emersons and Channings, as they 
 sat in the Concord woods, with the asters and the 
 golden-rod nodding to them like friendly comrades. 
 One may imagine the scene the cool, green 
 woodland stretch, the giant trees with the sunshine 
 filtering through, making gold ripples in the chest- 
 nut hair of the tall girl, surrounded by her smaller 
 companions. At first it was only Ellen Emerson, 
 but as the tales grew in interest, and wood-sprites, 
 water-sprites and fairy queens danced in the sylvan 
 glade, her audience increased and listened breath- 
 lessly to the stories which preached of love and joy 
 and youth and happiness, in the language of the 
 flowers and birds. 
 
 The true poetry of the girl's nature came to the 
 surface in these woodland hours. One story, " The 
 70
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 71 
 
 Fairy Spring," must have been about her sister 
 May, for the little heroine is described as " a pretty 
 child, with hair like sunshine, eyes blue as the sky, 
 cheeks like the wild roses nodding to her on either 
 side of the way, and a voice as sweet as the babbling 
 brook she loved to sing with. May was never hap- 
 pier than when alone in the woods, and every morn- 
 ing with her cup and a little roll of bread in her 
 basket, she wandered away to some of her favorite 
 nooks to feast on berries, play with the flowers, talk 
 to the birds, and make friends with all the harm- 
 less wood creatures, who soon knew and welcomed 
 her." 
 
 There in the woods she listened to the brook and 
 for the first time understood what it sang as it 
 flowed along. 
 
 I am calling, I am calling, 
 
 As I ripple, run and sing. 
 Come up higher, come up higher, 
 
 Come and find the fairy spring. 
 Who will listen, who will listen 
 
 To the wonders I can tell 
 Of a palace built of sunshine, 
 
 Where the sweetest spirits dwell? 
 Singing winds and magic waters, 
 
 Golden shadows, silver rain, 
 Spells that make the sad heart happy, 
 
 Sleep that cures the deepest pain. 
 Cheeks that bloom like summer roses, 
 
 Smiling lips and hours that shine,
 
 72 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Come to those who climb the mountain, 
 Find and taste the fairy wine. 
 
 I am calling, I am calling, 
 As I ripple, run and sing ; 
 
 Who will listen, who will listen, 
 To the story of the Spring? 
 
 Who could resist the rhythm of these simple 
 lines? Surely not the Concord children for whom 
 the woods awoke in those happy days. Small won- 
 der, then, that Louisa loved the book which breathed 
 of the trees and the flowers, and sent her back to 
 the pleasant memories of her childhood. 
 
 " Flower Fables " was her Christmas gift to her 
 mother ; she sent it with the following note : 
 
 " December 25, 1854. 
 " DEAR MOTHER : 
 
 " Into your Christmas stocking I have put my 
 ' first-born/ knowing that you will accept it with 
 all its faults (for grandmothers are always kind), 
 and look upon it merely as an earnest of what I may 
 yet do; for with so much to cheer me on, I hope to 
 pass in time from fairies and fables to men and 
 realities. Whatever beauty or poetry is to be found 
 in my little book is owing to your interest in, and 
 encouragement of, all my efforts from the first to 
 the last, and if ever I do anything to be proud of, 
 my greatest happiness will be that I can thank you 
 for that, as I may do for all the good there is in
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 73 
 
 me, and I shall be content to write if it gives you 
 pleasure. 
 
 "Jo is fussing about, 
 
 My lamp is going out. 
 
 " To dear mother, with many kind wishes for a 
 Happy New Year and Merry Christmas. 
 
 " I am ever your loving daughter, 
 
 " LOUY." 
 
 Every blade of grass, every woodland flower, 
 the trees, the ferns, the very stones, assumed per- 
 sonalities. No one who could so people her every- 
 day world with fairies could fail to believe in them, 
 and the charm about Louisa's " Flower Fables " 
 is that one can see childlike belief creeping out in 
 every story. Here is the song of the Fairy Star, 
 who made the Rose bloom in spite of the grim old 
 Frost King : 
 
 Sleep, little seed, 
 
 Deep in your bed, 
 While winter snow 
 
 Lies overhead. 
 Wake, little sprout, 
 
 And drink the rain, 
 Till sunshine calls 
 
 You to rise again. 
 Strike deep, young root, 
 
 In the earth below, 
 Unfold pale leaves, 
 Begin to grow.
 
 74 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Baby Bud, dance 
 In the warm sun ; 
 
 Bloom, sweet rose, 
 Life has begun. 
 
 Here she has told the story of the birth of the 
 flowers as Emerson would have told it, with a 
 swinging measure of words, if not in perfect 
 rhythm. Perhaps the tale of Queen Aster is best 
 known. 
 
 It seems that in the meadow the government was 
 very much upset. The Golden rods had ruled for 
 a great many years and had become very proud and 
 haughty. Now the roadside Asters were equally 
 proud, and of higher descent, as they came from 
 the stars and were a much larger tribe than the 
 Goldenrods, so there was a revolution in the 
 meadow. 
 
 " In the middle of this meadow stood a beau- 
 tiful maple, and at its foot lay a large rock over- 
 grown by a wild grapevine. All kinds of flowers 
 sprung up here, and this autumn a tall spray of 
 goldenrod and a lovely violet aster grew almost 
 side by side, with only a screen of ferns between 
 them. This was called the palace, and seeing their 
 cousin there made the asters feel that their turn had 
 come, and many of the other flowers agreed with 
 them that a change of rulers ought to be made for 
 the good of the kingdom. 
 
 " After much excitement, Violet Aster was
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 75 
 
 chosen Queen and made such a wise and gentle 
 ruled that even the defeated Prince Goldenrod 
 looked on in admiration, which soon changed to 
 love. He sang love songs to her under the stars, 
 and as she leaned toward him to listen, he saw the 
 love-light in her eyes and began his wooing. 
 
 " At his ardent words the screen fell away from 
 between them, the leaves that hid Violet's golden 
 heart opened wide and let him see how glad she 
 was as she bent her stately head and answered, 
 softly : 
 
 " ' There is room upon the throne for two ; share 
 it with me as King, and let us rule together; for it 
 is lonely without love, and each needs the other.' 
 . . . The maple showered the rosy leaves over 
 them, and the old Rock waved his crown of vine 
 leaves as he said: 
 
 'This is as it should be; love and strength 
 going hand in hand, and justice making the earth 
 glad.' " 
 
 When we reflect that into these love stories of the 
 flowers Louisa poured all the romance in her girl- 
 ish heart, we wonder why love never played a 
 bigger part in her own life. Her capacity for 
 loving was very large, perhaps too large to tie it- 
 self to the all-absorbing love of marriage. She was 
 so attractive that no doubt she had many offers, 
 though only one is recorded. She was absorbed 
 in the love of her home, the love of her country, the 
 love of her work three great passions which filled
 
 76 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 her life and made her proud to show the world that 
 marriage, beautiful as it is, is not the only goal in 
 the life of a busy, happy girl. No doubt, being a 
 true woman, had a great love come to her, she 
 would have obeyed its call, but it never did, and so 
 through the " Flower Fables " and through every 
 book which has appealed to her thousands of 
 readers, young and old, she has scattered her little 
 romances with the deft hand of one who knows and 
 feels. She often laughingly said in later days that 
 circumstances had made of her a sort of universal 
 relative wife, mother, husband, brother, sister, son 
 and daughter all in one. 
 
 The publication of " Flower Fables " was paid 
 for by a friend Miss Wealthy Stevens. The edi- 
 tion of sixteen hundred sold very well, though 
 Louisa realized only thirty-two dollars on the 
 whole. 
 
 " A pleasing contrast," she adds many years after, 
 " to the receipts of six months only in 1886, being 
 eight thousand dollars for the sale of books and no 
 new one ; but I was prouder over the thirty-two dol- 
 lars than the eight thousand." Prouder, perhaps 
 but not quite so comfortable. 
 
 If the publication of " Flower Fables " did noth- 
 ing more, at least it pointed out the way ; it turned 
 Louisa's heart and mind toward the goal that her 
 eyes could not as yet see clearly. There was so 
 much to do, so many doubts to drive away, so many 
 daily needs to satisfy, that she was often compelled
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 77 
 
 to turn aside from the path that was most alluring. 
 Teaching and sewing she regarded as stand-bys, 
 and often when her active brain was " simmering," 
 as she called it, she was tied to the one or the other. 
 In those days of no sewing machines, Louisa had 
 ample time while running up a seam or doing end- 
 less hemming to think out the many tales which 
 afterwards delighted the world, and from this time 
 on, the demand for her stories increased, and the 
 fact that she could in that way bring in the much- 
 needed money for the family support, spurred her 
 to do her best. 
 
 About this time the desire for solitude was 
 strong upon her, so she took to writing in the gar- 
 ret, which was the scene of much meditation and 
 innocent pleasure. Here she loved to bring her 
 favorite book and a pile of apples to enjoy while she 
 read. When stories and plots absorbed her mind 
 there was nothing more delightful than to mount 
 up away from the world, and with her papers scat- 
 tered all about her and pens and ink at her com- 
 mand, fall to work on the stories which were be- 
 coming more popular every day. The garret 
 must have been the famous retreat in " Little 
 Women," whither Jo retired to read and cry 
 over the " Heir of Redcliffe," when Meg told 
 her about the invitation to the Gardiner's party, 
 a retreat which was shared by a pet rat of literary 
 tastes. 
 
 Later on, when the fever for short stories and
 
 78 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 small checks seized her, Jo made herself a scribbling 
 costume with a mob cap, no doubt a reproduction of 
 Louisa's own. 
 
 " Every few weeks she would shut herself up in 
 her room, put on her scribbling suit and ' fall into 
 a vortex,' as she expressed it." 
 
 Louisa decided not to " waste even ink on poems 
 and fancies," so the stories grew in number, and 
 with the greater demand came a better price. At 
 one time, with forty dollars which she had earned, 
 she fitted out the whole family, her own wardrobe 
 being made up of articles from the cousins and 
 friends. 
 
 Mr. Alcott was most anxious to go to England 
 again, this time on a lecture tour, but his family 
 opposed such a venture. However, he went to Con- 
 cord to consult with Mr. Emerson, and as there is 
 no further mention made of the project, it is evi- 
 dent that the wise philosopher dissuaded him. But 
 the whole family grew weary of Boston, they felt 
 stifled in the small city houses and the city atmos- 
 phere. As the summer of 1855 approached, a pe- 
 culiar restlessness took possession of them; it 
 seemed impossible to make any definite plans. 
 
 " We shall probably stay here," writes Louisa, 
 " and Anna and I go into the country as govern- 
 esses. It's a queer way to live, but dramatic, and I 
 rather like it; for we never know what is to come 
 next." Later she adds : " Cousin L. W. asks me 
 to pass the summer at Walpole with her. If I can
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 79 
 
 get no teaching I shall go, for I long for the hills 
 and can write my fairy tales there." 
 
 These were to go into another Christmas book 
 she was planning ; she called it " Christmas Elves," 
 and her sister May illustrated it. Louisa consid- 
 ered it much better than " Flower Fables." 
 
 She wrote a burlesque lecture on " Woman and 
 her Position ; by Oronthy Bluggage," and delivered 
 it one evening at the house of a friend. It was 
 brimming over with fun and Louisa was in her ele- 
 ment, for she carried her audience with her and they 
 had a lively time of it. She was asked to give it 
 again for money; indeed, there was always some 
 financial possibility looming up for this clever and 
 original young woman. She was very modest 
 about herself and her achievements, though she 
 never underrated her powers. When her book ap- 
 peared, she said in her journal: 
 
 " My book came out, and people began to think 
 that topsey-turvey Louisa would amount to some- 
 thing after all, since she could do so well as house- 
 maid, teacher, seamstress, and story-teller. Per- 
 haps she may." 
 
 She went to Walpole, New Hampshire, in June. 
 It was a lovely spot high up among the hills, and 
 the wild freedom of the place delighted her. She 
 ran and skipped like a child in the open, she loved 
 to burrow in the woods and wander through the 
 splendid ravines. She helped her cousin work in 
 the garden, and the touch of the fresh earth and
 
 8o LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 the green leaves gave her much pleasure. Early 
 rising came naturally to her in this keen country air. 
 
 " Up at five," she writes, " and had a lovely run 
 in the ravine, seeing the woods wake. Planned a 
 little tale which ought to be fresh and true, as it 
 came at that hour and place ' King Goldenrod.' 
 Have lively days writing in A.M., driving in P.M., 
 and fun in eve. My visit is doing me much good." 
 
 No one was more dependent on good wholesome 
 fun than Louisa, herself often the center of it all. 
 She was always in demand among her relatives and 
 friends, and was a never-failing source of entertain- 
 ment wherever she went. 
 
 She was so delighted with Walpole that her fam- 
 ily caught her enthusiasm, and decided for the pres- 
 ent, to come and live there ; it never took the Alcotts 
 long to plan and decide things ; they were not cum- 
 bered with an overload of the world's goods, and 
 could move from place to place with very little 
 trouble or expense. In this instance, they were 
 lucky enough to secure the house of a friend, rent 
 free, and were glad of the rest from strenuous work. 
 Mr. Alcott had his garden, and the younger girls all 
 the light and air and freedom that they missed so 
 sadly in the city. Anna and Louisa were in their 
 element. 
 
 " Busy and happy times," Louisa tells us ; " plays, 
 picnics, pleasant people and good neighbors. Fanny 
 Kemble came up, Mrs. Kirtland and others, and Dr. 
 Bellows is the gayest of the gay. We acted the
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 8l 
 
 ' Jacobite,' ' Rivals/ and ' Bonnycastles,' to an audi- 
 ence of a hundred and were noticed in the Boston 
 papers. . . . Anna was the star, her acting be- 
 ing really very fine. I did Mrs. Malaprop, Widow 
 Pottle, and the old ladies." 
 
 But the summer passed all too quickly. Louisa's 
 fairy stories were ready in September. This she 
 modestly believed would give her ample time to 
 present them for Christmas publication. In the 
 meanwhile Anna received an offer from Dr. Wil- 
 bur, of Syracuse, to teach at the great idiot asylum. 
 The gentle, beauty-loving girl shrank from accept- 
 ing the position. Affliction of any kind tried her 
 spirit, but duty conquered and she determined to go. 
 She left Walpole in October, and in November, 
 Louisa, too, set forth to seek her fortune. Armed 
 with a small trunk, twenty dollars, earned by stories 
 in the Gazette, and her manuscripts, she received her 
 mother's blessing and turned her face toward Bos- 
 ton one rainy, hopeless-looking day. Here her en- 
 thusiasm received its first shower-bath; her book 
 was, of course, too lat'e for holiday publication, so, 
 with Heaven knows how many secret tears of dis- 
 appointment, it was laid away, while Louisa bravely 
 trudged about, hunting for employment " teach- 
 ing, sewing, or any housework. Won't go home to 
 sit idle, while I have a head and a pair of hands." 
 
 It was this indomitable spirit that proved her 
 worth; the Alcotts all had it in a greater or less 
 degree, but there was fighting stuff in Louisa and
 
 82 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 she would not be " downed." She had much to 
 fight against ; in spite of literary ability and power- 
 ful friends, the majority of busy people still looked 
 askance at an Alcott who presumed to make any 
 advance toward prosperity, and the daughter of the 
 unworldly philosopher, who preferred to be poor 
 all his life rather than sacrifice his ideals, had small 
 chance save on her own merit. 
 
 Louisa was only twenty-three when she set out 
 alone for Boston, a mere girl still in many ways, 
 but a life of struggle had given her a certain poise, 
 a simple, direct way of facing things, which was 
 one of the lessons she had learned from Emerson. 
 Whatever discouragement she may have felt, she 
 must have shown a bold, cheerful front to her own 
 little world, for while she was wondering how she 
 could secure comfortable board during the winter 
 with twenty dollars in her pocket and no visible 
 means of support, her cousins, the Sewalls, came 
 to her rescue and offered her a home. This she 
 accepted most gratefully, paying for her board by 
 quantities of sewing, and, in her spare time, writing 
 stories, reviewing books, and trying to cheer Anna 
 and the home people with long, gossipy letters. 
 The family at Walpole were feeling the severe win- 
 ter, and poor Anna was heartsick over her work 
 among the idiots. 
 
 In December, she heard Thackeray lecture, but 
 her pleasures just then were swallowed up in anxi- 
 ety for the home people. She sent them a box for
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 83 
 
 Christmas and in a letter to Anna she describes some 
 of the gifts in her humorous way. 
 
 " BOSTON, December 27th. 
 
 " DEAREST NAN : 
 
 " I was so glad to hear from you, and hear that 
 all were well. I am grubbing away as usual and 
 trying to get money enough to buy mother a nice 
 warm shawl. I have eleven dollars, all my own 
 earning. ... I got a crimson ribbon for a bon- 
 net for May. I took my straw and fixed it nicely 
 with some little duds I had. Her old one has 
 haunted me all winter and I want her to look neat; 
 she is so graceful and pretty, and loves beauty 
 so much, it is hard for her to be poor and wear 
 other people's ugly things. You and I have learned 
 not to mind much; but when I think of her I long 
 to dash out and buy the finest hat the limited sum 
 of ten dollars can procure. She says so sweetly 
 in one of her letters : ' It is hard sometimes to see 
 other people have so many nice things and I so few ; 
 but I try not to be envious, but contented with my 
 poor clothes and cheerful about it.' 
 
 " I hope the little dear will like the bonnet and 
 the frills I made her, and some bows I fixed over 
 from some bright ribbons L. W. threw away. I 
 get half my rarities from her rag-bag, and she 
 doesn't know her old rags when fixed over. . . . 
 
 " For our good little Betty, who is wearing all 
 the old gowns we left, I shall soon be able to buy a
 
 84 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 new one and send it, with my blessing, to the 
 cheerful saint. She writes me the funniest notes 
 and tries to keep the old folks warm, and make 
 the lonely house in the snowbanks cheerful and 
 bright. 
 
 " To Father I shall send new neckties and some 
 paper ; then he will be happy, and can keep on with 
 the beloved diaries, though the heavens fall. 
 
 " Don't laugh at my plans, I'll carry them out 
 if I go to service to do it. Seeing so much money 
 flying about, I long to honestly get a little and make 
 my dear family more comfortable. I feel weak- 
 minded when I think of all they need and the little 
 I can do. 
 
 " Now about you : Keep the money you have 
 earned by so many tears and sacrifices, and clothe 
 yourself, for it makes me mad to know that my 
 good little lass is going round in shabby things and 
 being looked down upon by people who are not 
 worthy to touch her patched shoes or the hem of 
 her ragged old gowns." 
 
 Of herself she writes : " My mite won't come 
 amiss, and if tears can add to its value, I've shed 
 my quart first, over the book not coming out, for 
 that was a sad blow, and I waited so long, it was 
 dreadful when my castle in the air came tumbling 
 about my ears. Pride made me laugh in public, 
 but I wailed in private, and no one knew it. The 
 folks at home think I rather enjoyed it, for I wrote 
 a jolly letter. But my visit was spoiled, and now
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 85 
 
 I'm digging away for dear life, that I may not have 
 come entirely in vain." 
 
 It was in letters such as this that the true nature 
 of the girl shone forth. Being a young woman of 
 moods, Louisa relieved her depression at this time 
 by writing a farce, which was taken by Mr. J. M. 
 Field, to be brought out in Mobile, but unfortu- 
 nately he died before it made its bow to the public. 
 Fate seemed always to lay a finger on her dramatic 
 productions, but the " story " form of literature 
 was more successful. Even her poems found a 
 market ; one on Dickens's " Little Nell " was pub- 
 lished in the Courier, and after hearing Curtis lec- 
 ture on Dickens, she wrote another on " Little 
 Paul." She also received ten dollars for " Ber- 
 tha," a story which was well advertised, and an- 
 other ten dollars for " Genevieve," which went re- 
 markably well. She planned a summer book called 
 " Beach Bubbles," which was published story by 
 story instead of in book form. Her brain was 
 seething with plots and fancies, while her fingers 
 were tied to her needle, for sewing piled upon her 
 and she was too poor to refuse the work. One job 
 of a dozen pillow-cases, a dozen sheets, six fine 
 cambric neckties, and two dozen handkerchiefs, at 
 which she worked all night, paid her only four dol- 
 lars. Even the small sum of five dollars for a 
 story would have been more profitable and less 
 wearing. 
 
 Anna came home from Syracuse about this time,
 
 86 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 sick and worn out from overwork. She stopped 
 in Boston, where she and Louisa spent some happy 
 days together, visiting about. 
 
 Writing in her journal, June, 1856, she says: 
 
 " Home to find dear Betty very ill with scarlet fe- 
 ver, caught from some poor children mother nursed 
 when they fell sick, living over a cellar where pigs 
 had been kept. The landlord (a deacon) would 
 not clean the place until Mother threatened to sue 
 him for allowing a nuisance. Too late to save two 
 of the poor babies or Lizzie and May from the 
 fever." 
 
 From this illness Lizzie never recovered ; the 
 fever teft its wasting marks upon her. They had 
 an anxious time, for it came in its worst form, and 
 the poor girl tossed in delirium, while they hung 
 about her, fearful that each paroxysm would be 
 her last. To those who have read " Little 
 Women," the " dark days," when Beth had the 
 fever, carried their full weight of woe. The blessed 
 change, when the fever broke at last, must have 
 been vividly felt by the little band watching each 
 labored breath that brought their dear one back to 
 them, a shadow of her bright happy self, to beam 
 among them for a short while longer. 
 
 Louisa found her hands full with nursing and 
 housework, but her brave heart never failed her, 
 and she managed to write a story a month during 
 the summer. These stories are probably the " rub- 
 bish " she speaks of in " Little Women " when she
 
 AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 87 
 
 says : " ' The Duke's Daughter ' paid the butcher's 
 bill, ' A Phantom Hand ' put down a new carpet, 
 and ' The Curse of the Coventrys ' proved the bless- 
 ing of the Marches in the way of groceries and 
 gowns." 
 
 " Little notice was taken of her stories, but they 
 found a market, and, encouraged by this fact, she 
 resolved to make a bold stroke for fame and 
 fortune." 
 
 This was Louisa to the life ; her stories may have 
 been " rubbish," and, like her dramas, they may 
 have been full of impossible situations but there 
 was a high moral tone to even the faultiest, and 
 while in later years she may have laughed over the 
 highly colored romances, she never had cause to 
 blush for a single thought contained in them. Their 
 service rendered, the bills paid, " Genevieve," 
 " Bertha," and the others died natural deaths, and 
 the young author looked beyond, into a more whole- 
 some world of literature.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LITTLE WOMEN " GROWN UP. 
 
 |HE recovery of the invalid was very 
 slow, but by the following October, 
 Louisa, feeling that she could once more 
 be spared, made her plans to go to Bos- 
 ton for the winter. Walpole was pleasant enough 
 in summer, with its visitors, its walks and its drives; 
 but when the cold weather came it was only a snow- 
 bank where people clung to their firesides in the 
 vain endeavor to shut out the sound of the sharp 
 winds that howled round the lonely little place. 
 There was nothing an active, energetic girl could do 
 there except to fold her hands and curb her impa- 
 tience; it was not in Louisa's nature to do either. 
 She says of herself: 
 
 " I was born with a boy's spirit under my bib 
 and tucker. I can't wait when I can work; so I 
 took my little talent in my hand and forced the 
 world again, braver than before, and wiser for my 
 failures. ... I don't often pray in words, but when 
 I set out that day with all my worldly goods in the 
 little old trunk, my own earnings (twenty-five dol- 
 lars) in my pocket, and much hope and resolution
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 89 
 
 in my soul, my heart was very full, and I said to the 
 Lord, ' Help us all, and keep us for one another/ 
 as I never said it before, while I looked back at the 
 dear faces watching me, so full of love and faith 
 and hope." 
 
 It took a very brave girl to shoulder her burden 
 just now, worn out with a summer of anxiety, but 
 Louisa's spirits were fortunately elastic, and once 
 in Boston, she shook her gauntlet in Dame For- 
 tune's face and challenged the lady to mortal com- 
 bat. 
 
 Her good friend, Mrs. David Reed, who kept a 
 well-known boarding-house on Chauncey Street, 
 offered her an attic room at three dollars a week 
 with fire and board, an unusual price, but independ- 
 ent Louisa sewed for her besides. It was a cozy, 
 sunny little room, with a stove and a nice table 
 where she could sit and write whenever she wished, 
 and she began to hope great things from the quiet 
 hours of uninterrupted work she would enjoy. 
 
 The monthly story at ten dollars was still in de- 
 mand, and there was plenty of sewing to keep her 
 afloat. She also had some hope that her play, 
 " The Rival Prima Donnas," might come out at 
 last, and she calculated on being able to support 
 herself and help the family besides. She was anx- 
 ious also to get some hours' work as governess, but 
 in this she was disappointed at first, though it came 
 after. 
 
 She began at this time to take a great interest
 
 90 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 in Theodore Parker. He was a man of earnest pur- 
 pose and wide influence. He was not the usual 
 type of minister, and his strong sermons were not 
 always taken from a Bible text, but lessons were 
 drawn from the everyday life of the working men 
 and women among whom she lived. Thoughtful 
 young people adored him, Louisa among the rest; 
 and many a delightful Sunday evening was passed 
 in his hospitable home. For hither came the best 
 in the land, and the somewhat shy and unfortu- 
 nately tall young woman, who could not conveni- 
 ently tuck herself out of view, would slip into a 
 corner and watch and enjoy a sight of these great 
 beings. She describes him in " Work," in the 
 character of Mr. Power, as " A sturdy man of 
 fifty, with a keen, brave face, penetrating eyes, and 
 mouth a little grim; but a voice so resonant and 
 sweet, it reminded one of silver trumpets, and 
 stirred and won the hearer with irresistible power. 
 Rough gray hair and all the features rather rugged, 
 as if the Great Sculptor had blocked out a grand 
 statue and left the man's own soul to finish it." 
 
 It was at his house she met Charles Sumner, Julia 
 Ward Howe, Phillips, Garrison, Beecher, and other 
 " great ones," and as she sat apart and listened to 
 these eloquent talkers, whose pet theme was abo- 
 lition, her enthusiastic nature warmed at the fire, 
 and freedom for the slave was thereafter the war- 
 cry of Louisa Alcott. She writes to her father de- 
 scribing these Sunday evenings :
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 91 
 
 " All talk, and I sit in a corner listening and 
 wishing a certain placid, gray-haired gentleman 
 was there talking, too. Mrs. Parker calls on me, 
 reads my stories, and is very good to me. Theo- 
 dore asks Louisa ' how her worthy parents do,' and 
 is otherwise very friendly to the large bashful girl 
 who adorns his parlor steadily." 
 
 It was a very happy and very busy winter, full 
 of stirring events, social gayety, fine lectures, thea- 
 ter and opera treats, plenty of sewing and much 
 writing. On November 3, 1856, she writes in her 
 journal : 
 
 " Wrote all the morning. In the P.M. went to 
 see the Sumner reception, as he comes home after 
 the Brooks affair. I saw him pass up Beacon Street, 
 pale and feeble, but smiling and bowing. I rushed 
 to Hancock Street, and was in time to see him 
 bring his proud old mother to the window, when the 
 crowd gave three cheers for her. I cheered, too, 
 and was very much excited. Mr. Parker met him 
 somewhere before the ceremony began, and the 
 above P. cheered like a boy; and Sumner laughed 
 and nodded as his friend pranced and shouted, bare- 
 headed and beaming." 
 
 Charles Sumner was at that time the idol of Bos- 
 ton ; he was a brilliant man and a fine speaker. 
 He was elected United States Senator from Massa- 
 chusetts, to succeed Daniel Webster, and it is a re- 
 markable coincidence that Henry Clay left the Sen- 
 ate on the day Sumner entered it. He was bitterly
 
 92 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 opposed to slavery, and always championed the 
 cause of the weak against the strong 1 . He was 
 really more of a scholar than a politician, but his 
 country needed him and there was no hesitation 
 when this call came : 
 
 Forego thy dreams of lettered ease; 
 
 Lay thou the scholar's promise by: 
 The rights of man are more than these. 
 
 He heard and answered, "Here am I." 
 
 His plain speaking made an enemy of Preston 
 Smith Brooks, who attacked him in the Senate with 
 a bludgeon, and it was when recovering from his 
 wounds that Boston rang with his welcome home. 
 
 If Louisa had been a man, there is no telling 
 what part she would have taken in the burning ques- 
 tions of the day, but her petticoats kept her shy, and 
 the time had not yet arrived when women could 
 speak their minds; so she could only stand on street 
 corners and cheer, and write, write, write, in her 
 sunny attic. 
 
 Again she says : " My kind cousin L. W. got tick- 
 ets for a course of lectures on ' Italian Literature,' 
 and sent me a new cloak with other needful and 
 pretty things such as girls love to have. I shall 
 never forget how kind she has always been to me." 
 
 November 5th was a " red-letter " day, for 
 though her play was not yet forthcoming, Mr. 
 Barry gave her a pass to the theater, and in the 
 evening she saw La Grange as Norma, and grew
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 93 
 
 stage-struck, as she usually did over good things. 
 The next day she took a " little walk " from Boston 
 to Roxbury to consult her cousin, Dr. Windship, 
 about the play, and rode home in the new cars just 
 established. She adds : " In the evening went to 
 teach at Warren Street Chapel Charity School. I'll 
 help as I am helped, if I can. Mother says no one 
 so poor he can't do a little for some one poorer yet." 
 
 About this time, May came to Boston to visit her 
 aunt, Mrs. Bond, and study drawing. She had 
 great talent, which needed just such help for its 
 development, and Louisa rejoiced over her good 
 luck. May was full of enthusiasm, and the sisters 
 had a happy meeting and a real home talk. The 
 little cottage in the snowbank was cozy and warm, 
 but Elizabeth's delicate health kept them anxious; 
 this was a shadow which hung persistently over 
 them in spite of the good times. 
 
 Louisa found constant use for her theater pass 
 On one occasion she saw Forrest as Othello. She 
 writes : " It is funny to see how attentive all the 
 once cool gentlemen are to Miss Alcott, now she 
 has a pass to the new theater." She went to a little 
 party at her aunt's on the evening of her birthday, 
 November 29th, which she greatly enjoyed. She 
 says : " May looked very pretty and seemed to be 
 a favorite. The boys teased me about being an 
 authoress, and said I'd be famous yet. Will if I can, 
 but something else may be better for me." 
 
 Birthdays were serious occasions to Louisa, but
 
 94 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 this one was brighter than usual. She had letters 
 from home and a pretty pin from her father, so she 
 went to bed happy. 
 
 December was a story-writing month Christ- 
 mas and New Year tales. The active brain spun 
 them out for the money. One, " The Cross on the 
 Church Tower," suggested by the tower before her 
 window, must have specially appealed to her. 
 
 She was beginning, however, to feel the need 
 of something better in her writing. Her stories 
 answered their purpose, and helped her in times of 
 need, but nothing more; there was scarcely one 
 which, in later days, she thought worth preserving. 
 She longed to do something really good; she felt 
 that she had talent above the columns of the weekly 
 papers, if she only had a chance to try her wings. 
 Even now, dim ideas of a novel began to hover 
 around her, but it had no shape as yet. Their own 
 family life with its many experiences, she thought 
 would prove most interesting, beginning with her 
 father's boyhood at Spindle Hill. The Temple 
 School, Fruitlands, Boston and Concord, she had 
 planned as chapters. She says : " The trials and 
 triumphs of the Pathetic Family would make a capi- 
 tal book; may I live to do it." 
 
 And she did; not the book indeed, that she in- 
 tended about a Pathetic Family, but a winsome 
 study of four wholesome, happy, hearty girls, who 
 are always peeping from a sunny little book, to chat 
 with girls of coming generations about the same
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 95 
 
 pleasures, aspirations, and experiences which come 
 to all girls through all time. 
 
 Louisa's income was now increased by three 
 hours' work as daily governess, which included 
 caring for a little invalid. 
 
 " It is hard work," she writes, " but I can do it; 
 and am glad to sit in a large fine room part of each 
 day, after my sky-parlor, which has nothing pretty 
 in it, and only the gray tower and blue sky outside, 
 as I sit at the window writing. I love luxury, but 
 freedom and independence better." 
 
 The New Year, 1857, began brightly; the same 
 kind cousin, L. W., gave her her first new silk dress 
 and she felt as if all the Hancocks, Quincys, and 
 great folk of Boston beheld her as she went forth 
 proudly arrayed. 
 
 Mr. Alcott, who had been on a lecture tour to 
 New York and Philadelphia, finished up at Boston 
 on his way home. His trip, as usual, had yielded 
 but little money. " Why don't rich people, who 
 enjoy his talks, pay for them? " Louisa asked. 
 " Philosophers are always poor, and too modest to 
 pass around their own hats." 
 
 She was very proud of May's first portrait, a 
 crayon head of her mother, which was an excellent 
 likeness and brought joy to the family. Her father 
 stayed some time in Boston, and gave many in- 
 teresting talks to a circle which appreciated him 
 and saw him always at his best, and Louisa en- 
 joyed having him so constantly with her. There
 
 96 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 was wonderful sympathy between the two. Louisa, 
 the capable, practical breadwinner, adored the phi- 
 losopher in her father, the spirit which in spite of 
 many downward pullings could always rise above 
 the clouds. Her definition of a philosopher, at 
 which no doubt her own father laughed most heart- 
 ily of all, was " a man up in a balloon, with his fam- 
 ily and friends holding the ropes which confine him 
 to earth, and trying to haul him down." 
 
 In February, she ran home as a "Valentine," 
 then she went back to work till May, when anxiety 
 for her sister drove her home for good. The last 
 months in Boston were very pleasant. She fin- 
 ished teaching and went about and rested after her 
 labors; she was a most social person and loved to 
 visit. She still appeared on Sunday evenings at 
 Mr. Parker's, and there among the other guests 
 she met F. B. Sanborn, the young educator, whose 
 broad mind and able instruction has made from 
 that day to this a notable center of learning in 
 Concord. 
 
 She also saw young Edwin Booth as Brutus, 
 liking him better than his father, and on the loth 
 of May she reached home, having accomplished 
 what she had set out to do " supported myself, 
 written eight stories, taught four months, earned a 
 hundred dollars and sent money home." 
 
 Now came the real shadow on her life, the heavi- 
 est, because it was the first, and sorrow is the hard- 
 est teacher one can have. Beth was slipping away
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 97 
 
 from them ; they did not realize it at first, the 
 change was so gradual, but when Louisa came from 
 Boston, a heavy weight fell upon her heart when 
 she saw her mister's face. 
 
 " It was no paler, and but little thinner than in 
 the autumn, yet there was a strange transparent 
 look about it, as if the mortal was being slowly 
 refined away, and the immortal shining through the 
 frail flesh, with an indescribable beauty." 
 
 There was a seeming hush in the little household 
 at Walpole; there was a drawn and haggard look 
 on the mother's face, a gentle pity in the father's 
 eyes, while Louisa, Anna, and May tried to shut 
 out all thought of the trial that must come. The 
 most serene among them was Elizabeth herself; her 
 beautiful disposition shone forth and lent her a 
 strength that was surprising. Those about her 
 dared not look forward to what home would be 
 without her sweet and gentle presence, for she 
 was, above all, the " home girl," with countless 
 little home graces. These may not be noticed 
 in the humdrum of every day; but when a pause 
 comes and the signs are seen no more, we can- 
 not get used to the silence and void their absence 
 makes. 
 
 Here the philosopher's influence shone forth, and 
 the brave family lived to the height of his teaching. 
 Death was knocking at the door, but they held him 
 off and did what they could to defy him. 
 
 It was about this time that Louisa read Charlotte
 
 98 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Bronte's life, such a contrast to her own, with its 
 home spirit and its innocent pleasures, that the girl's 
 heart, very tender just then with the cloud upon 
 it, ached for the three lonely sisters on the moors. 
 She writes : 
 
 " Wonder if I shall ever be famous enough for 
 people to care to read my story and struggles. I 
 can't be a Charlotte Bronte, but I may do a little 
 something yet." 
 
 In July, Mr. Alcott's mother came to visit them. 
 She was eighty-four, but a strong, industrious and 
 wise old lady, 'and a great delight to the Alcott 
 girls, who clustered around her, never tired of lis- 
 tening to anecdotes of their father's boyhood. " A 
 sweet old lady," writes Louisa, " and I am glad to 
 know her and see where Father gets his nature. 
 ... A house needs a grandma in it. As we sat 
 talking over Father's boyhood, I never realized so 
 plainly before, how much he has done for himself. 
 His early life sounded like a pretty old romance, 
 and Mother added the love passages." 
 
 By August, Elizabeth grew so much worse that 
 they decided to go back to Concord. Mr. Alcott 
 was never happy far away from Emerson, the one 
 true friend, who loved, understood, and helped him. 
 There was a small estate for sale in the eastern 
 part of Concord ; on it was a substantial though very 
 old farmhouse, the Orchard House, as it was after- 
 wards called ; it had been standing for nearly two 
 centuries when the Alcotts became the owners of it.
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 99 
 
 It was an easy distance from Emerson's house, and 
 adjoining it, on the east, was Hawthorne's home, 
 The Wayside, which had been the Alcott's Hillside 
 ten years before. 
 
 Mrs. Alcott took the invalid to the seashore while 
 the girls made the move from Walpole to Con- 
 cord, but there was so much to be done to make the 
 old farmhouse habitable, that they rented half of 
 another house while repairs were going on. They 
 fitted up a pleasant room for Beth, and when she 
 came home, more shadowy than ever, they all set- 
 tled down for the winter, uncertain what it would 
 bring them. 
 
 The dear old grandmother went home with her 
 son, but Louisa stayed where she was, she had no 
 heart for Boston; she hovered around the sick- 
 room, and on her birthday she writes : 
 
 " Twenty-five this month. I feel my quarter of 
 a century heavy on my shoulders just now. I lead 
 two lives: one serene, gay with plays, and so on; 
 the other, very sad, in Betty's room, for though she 
 wishes us to act and loves to see us get ready, the 
 shadow is there, and Mother and I see it. Betty 
 loves to have me with her, and I am with her at 
 night, for Mother needs rest. Betty says she feels 
 ' strong ' when I am near." 
 
 This is tenderly described in " Little Women/' 
 when Jo keeps vigil with this beloved sister in " The 
 Valley of the Shadow." 
 
 " Often when she woke, Jo found Beth reading
 
 100 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 in her well-worn little book, heard her singing softly 
 to beguile the sleepless night, or saw her lean her 
 face upon her hands while slow tears dropped 
 through the transparent ringers; and Jo would lie 
 watching her, with thoughts too deep for tears, feel- 
 ing that Beth, in her simple unselfish way, was try- 
 ing to wean herself from the dear old life and fit 
 herself for the life to come, by sacred words of 
 comfort, quiet prayers, and the music she loved 
 so well." 
 
 During those days of waiting, her hands were 
 never idle, and she would make little things and 
 drop them down to the school children who passed 
 beneath her window, and she would smile down 
 into the upturned grateful faces. But by and by 
 the needle grew " too heavy " and the work was 
 put away forever. 
 
 The poem which came from Louisa's full heart 
 at this time tells all one cares to know of the sad 
 parting. In " Little Women " she called it 
 
 MY BETH. 
 
 Sitting patient in the shadow 
 
 Till the blessed light shall come, 
 A serene and saintly presence 
 
 Sanctifies our troubled home. 
 Earthly joys, and hopes, and sorrows, 
 
 Break like ripples on the strand 
 Of the deep and solemn river 
 
 Where her willing feet now stand.
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 101 
 
 Oh, my sister, passing from me, 
 
 Out of human care and strife, 
 Leave me as a gift, those virtues 
 
 Which have beautified your life. 
 Dear, bequeath me that great patience 
 
 Which has power to sustain 
 A cheerful, uncomplaining spirit, 
 
 In its prison-house of pain. 
 
 Give me, for I need it sorely, 
 
 Of that courage wise and sweet, 
 Which has made the path of duty 
 
 Green beneath your willing feet. 
 Give me that unselfish nature, 
 
 That with charity divine 
 Can pardon wrong for love's dear sake. 
 
 Meek heart, forgive me mine! 
 
 Thus our daily parting loseth 
 
 Something of its bitter pain, 
 And while learning this hard lesson, 
 
 My great loss becomes my gain. 
 For the touch of grief will render 
 
 My wild nature more serene, 
 Give to life new aspirations 
 
 A new trust in the unseen. 
 
 Henceforth, safe across the river, 
 
 I shall see forever more 
 A beloved household spirit, 
 
 Waiting for me on the shore. 
 Hope and faith, born of my sorrow, 
 
 Guardian angels shall become, 
 And the sister gone before me, 
 
 By their hands shall lead me home.
 
 102 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Louisa never spoke of this grief as she did in 
 those few pathetic sentences in " Little Women " : 
 
 " So the spring days came and went, the sky 
 grew clearer, the earth greener, the flowers were up 
 fair and early, and the birds came back in time to 
 say good-by to Beth, who, like a tired but trustful 
 child, clung to the hands that had led her all her 
 life, as father and mother guided her tenderly 
 through the valley of the shadow, and gave her up 
 to God. ... As Beth had hoped, the ' tide went 
 out easily '; and in the dark hour before the dawn, 
 on the bosom where she had drawn her first breath, 
 she drew her last, with no farewell, but one loving 
 look and a little sight. . . . 
 
 " When morning came, for the first time in many 
 months, the fire was out, Jo's place was empty, and 
 the room was very still. But a bird sang blithely on 
 a budding bough close by, the snowdrops blossomed 
 freshly at the window, and the spring sunshine 
 streamed in like a benediction over the placid face 
 upon the pillow a face so full of painless peace 
 that those who loved it best smiled through their 
 tears, and thanked God that Beth was well at last." 
 
 They buried her in Sleepy Hollow close by, and 
 Emerson, Thoreau, Sanborn, and John Pratt car- 
 ried her tenderly to her last home, which she chose 
 herself. They sang her favorite hymn, they decked 
 the house with her favorite flowers, they made of 
 her memory a bright spot, for the shadow was lifted 
 and the pain was gone.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 
 
 ]T took the family several months to set- 
 tle down after Elizabeth's death. She 
 had been such a quiet force in their lives 
 that they did not recognize how much 
 her influence had governed them; the house where 
 she died became haunted with sad memories, and 
 their own not being quite ready, they occupied tem- 
 porarily a wing of the Hawthorne place which had 
 once been theirs. The Hawthornes were abroad at 
 the time, so the arrangement was satisfactory all 
 round, for the Alcott's property was adjoining, and 
 improvements could be superintended on the spot. 
 Mrs. Alcott soon became absorbed in the new 
 home, and found much comfort in watching its 
 growth. Mr. Alcott was already planning orchards 
 and outside improvements. May had gone to Bos- 
 ton, and Anna had picked up the threads of a hap- 
 py romance which had been laid aside when Beth 
 began to fail; so Louisa, in the long spring days 
 which followed, slipped into the dead sister's place, 
 keeping house for her father and mother, trying to 
 hold the restless spirit in check, and watching with
 
 104 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 much interest the growing of Anna's pretty love 
 story. John Pratt had been a pupil at Sanborn's 
 school when the Alcotts moved back to Concord, 
 and had taken part with the girls in plays, charades, 
 and masquerades. He was the son of Minot Pratt, 
 a well-known resident of Concord, a good friend of 
 Mr. Alcott's, with whom he sympathized in many 
 ways. Minot Pratt, a celebrated botanist, was 
 wonderfully successful in the cultivation and rear- 
 ing of flowers; he had also been a member of the 
 famous Brook Farm community, which, like Fmit- 
 lands, had come to nothing, so, as there was much 
 in common between the two men, it is small wonder 
 that their children should be thrown in pleasant as- 
 sociation. 
 
 John Pratt, as Louisa described him, was " hand- 
 some, healthy, and happy " when his engagement to 
 Anna Alcott was announced. Louisa, though out- 
 wardly rejoicing, took the news very much to heart. 
 " So another sister is gone," she writes, and later : 
 " I moaned in private over my great loss, and said 
 I'd never forgive John for taking Anna from me, 
 but I will, if he makes her happy, and turn to little 
 May for my comfort." 
 
 It was just here that the hungry soul of this 
 strong, self-reliant young woman cried out. Love 
 and sympathy she depended upon, and the father 
 and mother, who had never failed her, came to her 
 rescue now. In the first days of her grief when 
 unaccustomed to sleeping through a whole night,
 
 PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 105 
 
 she would wake up thinking she heard the dear in- 
 valid calling to her, the sense of her loss was very 
 keen; it was then that her mother would come to 
 her in the darkness, and soothe her as only mothers 
 can, and talk of patience and resignation, of which 
 Mrs. Alcott herself was such a beautiful example. 
 As the bitterness wore away and the active mind 
 was stirring again, she had long talks with her 
 father in his study, and gained from him a bit of 
 that quiet philosophy which had kept him serene 
 through so many trials. 
 
 Added to this, her own energy and strong will 
 served her now. Once more, in the intervals of 
 housekeeping, she took up her pen, and before she 
 knew it, stories began to grow in her brain. They 
 were all simple tales, but something of her own love 
 and sorrow had crept into them, making them very 
 sweet and very true to life. Little by little the 
 magazines began to call for her work and to pay 
 more liberally, and Louisa found herself able to 
 provide greater comforts for the household. 
 
 In June, May came home, and Anna returned 
 from a visit to Pratt Farm, so Louisa ran off for a 
 little change to Boston, where her hosts of relatives 
 always made it pleasant for her. Here she saw 
 Charlotte Cushman and had " stage fever " so badly 
 that she came nearer being an actress than ever in 
 her life before. Dr. Windship asked Mr. Barry to 
 let her act at his theater, and it was all privately ar- 
 ranged that she was to do Widow Pottle, for the
 
 106 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 dress was a good disguise and she knew the part 
 well, but poor Louisa never got her dramatic ma- 
 chinery wound up that something did not happen. 
 Mr. Barry broke his leg at a most inconvenient mo- 
 ment, so she had to give it up and swallow her dis- 
 appointment as best she could. Fortunately at this 
 period the new house in Concord called for all hands 
 to help in the moving, and Louisa hurried home to 
 a busy, happy time, for work always agreed with 
 the Alcott girls. In July, her journal tells us some- 
 thing about it : 
 
 " Went into the new house and began to settle. 
 Father is happy ; Mother glad to be at rest ; Anna is 
 in bliss with her gentle John, and May busy over 
 her pictures. I have plans simmering, but must 
 sweep and dust and wash my dish-pans a little longer 
 till I see my way. Worked off my stage fever in 
 writing a story, and felt better; also a moral tale 
 and got twenty-five dollars which pieced up our sum- 
 mer gowns and bonnets all round. The inside of 
 my head can at least cover the outside. . . . The 
 weeklies will all take stories; and I can simmer 
 novels while I do my housework, so see my way to 
 a little money, and perhaps more by and by, if I 
 ever make a hit. . . . Much company to see the new 
 house. All seem glad that the- wandering family is 
 anchored at last." 
 
 This new home they christened " Orchard 
 House," on account of its fine apple trees. It looked 
 out on the famous Lexington Street, up which the
 
 PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 107 
 
 British retreated in Revolutionary days, and back 
 of it was a range of hills, the green of the pines re- 
 lieved by patches of gray birch. There were mag- 
 nificent elms shading the house, and the apple trees 
 were ever changing in hue. The trees were Mr. 
 Alcott's special pride ; he says of them : 
 
 " The ancient elms in front of the house, of a 
 hundred years' standing and more, are the pride of 
 the yard, luxuriant and far-spreading, overshadow- 
 ing the roof and gables, yet admitting light into hall 
 and chambers. Sunny rooms sunny household." 
 
 In front of the house stretched a broad meadow, 
 supposed once to have been the bed of the Con- 
 necticut River. A charming woodland path wound 
 upward to the very heart of the hills, to the summit 
 of which the Alcott girls loved to climb. It is 
 doubtless upon these heights where they met many 
 an afternoon, that the " Little Women " built their 
 castles in the air, and in memory of their childish 
 days kept up the old play of Pilgrim's Progress. 
 They called the top of this hill the " Delectable 
 Mountain," it being the highest point, and naturally 
 their goal. Here is Miss Alcott's own description 
 of it in " Little Women " : 
 
 "... Through an opening in the woods one 
 could look across the wide blue river, the meadows 
 on the other side, far over the outskirts of the great 
 city [that must have been Boston, only twenty 
 miles away] to the green hills that rose to meet 
 the sky. The sun was low, and the heavens glowed
 
 io8 'LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 with the splendor of an autumn sunset. Gold and 
 purple clouds lay on the hilltops; and rising high 
 into the ruddy light were silvery-white peaks that 
 shone like the airy spires of some Celestial City." 
 
 Concord was noted for its wonderful sunsets, and 
 Hawthorne, who loved the solitude of this special 
 ridge, enjoyed the brilliant colors as he paced his 
 favorite haunt, treading down the tangle of under- 
 growth until he wore an irregular path upon the 
 brow of the hill, which is distinctly visible to this 
 day. Often, no doubt, he came across this group 
 of sisters : Anna with her sewing, May with her 
 drawing, and Louisa reading aloud to them in her 
 clear, delightful way ; and many a time the shy man, 
 who seldom strayed from the shelter of his own 
 sweet household, would be drawn into their little 
 circle in spite of himself, for Louisa's broad soci- 
 ability reached out to all who passed her way. 
 
 Across the meadow stretch, rose other hills lead- 
 ing to Walden, which Thoreau loved and where he 
 often lived for weeks at a time, in the very heart of 
 nature. These hills were not so high, but they were 
 beautiful and well wooded, so Orchard House was 
 surrounded on all sides by something to delight the 
 eye, and Mr. Alcott had the good sense in remodel- 
 ing the place, to use only subdued colors in freshen- 
 ing its exterior, something in harmony with the 
 bark of the trees, the color of the earth, and the 
 green of the leaves. In walking over the grounds 
 of Orchard House, the eye was pleased with un-
 
 PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 109 
 
 expected glimpses of his rustic work; a table here, 
 a bench there, a little foot-bridge, or a low fence. 
 
 Inside the three girls lent their skillful aid. They 
 painted and papered the rooms with their own 
 hands, they laid carpets, they made and hung their 
 own curtains, and after all was in order, May put 
 the finishing touches with her beautiful drawings, 
 and the result was a home, sweet, simple, and re- 
 fined, which opened wide its doors to the friends in 
 Concord. 
 
 For some time the festive air of the new home 
 kept Louisa contented. She was never so happy as 
 when among her friends, and those who had lent 
 most color to her life were there around them. The 
 Alcotts and the Emersons were very intimate, and 
 Dr. Edward Emerson, Emerson's only son, gives us 
 a most delightful picture of Louisa and her sisters 
 at this period (1858). Louisa he described as fine 
 looking, with regular, though massive features and 
 wavy brown hair. Anna he did not consider pretty, 
 but so friendly and sweet-tempered " that the beauty 
 of expression made up for the lack of it in her 
 features. May, the youngest, was a tall, well-made 
 blonde; the lower part of her face was irregular, 
 but she had beautiful blue eyes and brilliant yellow 
 hair." 
 
 Once, during a visit he paid at the Alcott house 
 with his mother and sister, he tells us how Louisa 
 entertained them in her own witty fashion, with 
 burlesques on her father's and his father's writings,
 
 no LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 calling Mr. Emerson, Rolf Walden Emcrboy. He 
 continues : 
 
 " In Concord at Mr. Sanborn's school, the Alcott 
 girls were in demand for private theatricals, their 
 talent and experience being well known. If Louisa 
 could make our sides ache with laughter, Anna 
 could cause our handkerchiefs to come out, and 
 much swallowing of lumps in the throat. 
 
 " The evenings at the Alcott house also left de- 
 lightful memories. Although a long walk, the bait 
 was good enough to draw the boys and girls often. 
 The hearty and motherly quality of Mrs. Alcott's 
 welcome was something to remember. There was a 
 piano none of the best and May, in the highest 
 spirits, would swoop to the stool and all would fall 
 to dancing; the mother herself often joining us. 
 One of the guests would relieve May, and give her 
 a turn. Then, with or without voices, we stood by 
 the piano singing ' Rolling Home,' ' Ubi sunt O 
 pocula,' ' Music in the Air,' and after the war be- 
 gan, 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic,' 'John 
 Brown,' ' Marching Along,' and other stirring 
 songs fresh from camp." 
 
 He tells of the jolly evenings on the porch, 
 where they watched the twilight deepen into dark, 
 and told " creepy " stories, and ate chestnuts and 
 apples amid thrills of horror, and went home at ten 
 o'clock at the very latest. 
 
 Masquerades were a great delight to these young 
 ones, and there were many in Concord. Their fa-
 
 PROGRESS AND POVERTY. ill 
 
 vorite one was the sheet party, where everyone 
 looked alike, draped in white sheets, a white cloth 
 with eyeslits over the face, and a pillow-case pinned 
 tightly around the scalp, entirely concealing the hair, 
 and hanging down behind. 
 
 " These pleasant pictures of the past," Dr. Emer- 
 son says in conclusion, " may read a lesson. Great 
 pleasures . may be had simply and cheaply ; good- 
 nature, self-help, mother-wit, independence, are 
 such good ingredients, that a cake baked with them 
 is safe to turn out well." 
 
 Truly the days at Concord sped gayly. The 
 thunders of war were heard in the distance, to be 
 sure, but the call to arms had not yet reached the 
 placid little town. Louisa's wings were beginning 
 to flap again with the strong desire to go out into 
 the world, but perhaps it was as well that during 
 those hot times of discussion she found herself 
 safely hemmed in by this little band of philosophers, 
 for she, being naturally impulsive and enthusiastic, 
 thought of the threatening war only as of a struggle 
 between the North and the South over the freedom 
 or bondage of the slave. And she and Mr. Haw- 
 thorne, her next-door neighbor, must have had 
 many a spirited argument on that very subject, for 
 though he was loyal to the North, he always 
 contended that abolition was not the keynote 
 of the war. In a letter written by him in 
 1861, he says: "Though I approve of the war 
 as much as any man, I don't quite understand
 
 II2 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 what we are fighting for, or what definite result 
 can be expected." 
 
 Emerson, Alcott, and Thoreau were, in their 
 calmer way, as enthusiastic as Louisa herself; 
 though with their riper judgment, they held them- 
 selves in check. But F. B. Sanborn, the young 
 school-teacher of Concord, was not so discreet, and 
 came very near arrest and imprisonment for his 
 open championship of John Brown. 
 
 To-day, safe and peaceful under one flag, we of 
 the North, South, East, and West wonder at the 
 intense feeling that hung over every question of 
 that day, but to Louisa, born in the midst of the 
 struggle, it was all very real and tragic. She longed 
 with all her girl's soul she was a girl still in spite 
 of her twenty-six years to get into the thick of it 
 and fight. Sanborn seemed to her something of a 
 hero, for in his place she would have done likewise. 
 She placed him from that moment side by side with 
 the men she most admired, and a lifelong friendship 
 was sealed between them, for she liked his inde- 
 pendence and his spirit. 
 
 He had come to Concord comparatively unknown, 
 but presently the modest school he opened for boys 
 and girls began to attract attention and soon be- 
 came popular, while children of the best families 
 swelled his ranks, for he was friend as well as 
 teacher, and made study a delight to his pupils. 
 Miss Alcott has many times made use of him in her 
 stories, and while she and her sisters were too old
 
 PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 113 
 
 to be regular pupils, they joined in all the frolics, 
 which relieved the hours of study. Indeed it was 
 through Sanborn's interest that Louisa's " Hospital 
 Sketches " appeared in the Boston Commonzvealth 
 some years later, when he became editor, and 
 through them she became better known than ever 
 before. 
 
 However happy they were at Orchard House, 
 there was still very little money in the family pocket- 
 book, and a very persistent wolf knocking at the 
 door. In spite of the many delights of Concord, 
 the peace and quiet were trying to Louisa ; she was 
 not content to drift, she wanted to fight and beat the 
 waves with her sturdy arms, and push ahead, for 
 she had long ago made up her mind that the family 
 fortunes lay in her hands. In October she decided 
 to set out once more for Boston, resolving as she 
 said " to take Fate by the throat and shake a living 
 out of her." 
 
 This she succeeded in doing with a pluck and 
 energy that amazed her friends. Louisa was con- 
 tinually " amazing her friends." There was a bub- 
 bling spirit of youth in her that would not be 
 quenched; she had in her short life, received as 
 many if not more hard knocks than most girls, but 
 she was never " downed," and the success which 
 pleased her most was what she had won after a 
 vigorous battle. 
 
 She spent the year in Boston as governess; she 
 lived in her old " sky parlor," and in her spare time
 
 1 1 4 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 fell to work on her stories, visited her friends, 
 sewed, went to lectures, and the theater very often ; 
 she was happy because, she was busy. 
 
 " The past year," she writes on her twenty-sixth 
 birthday, " has brought us our first death and be- 
 trothal two events that change my life. I can see 
 that these experiences have taken a deep hold and 
 changed or developed me. Lizzie helps me spirit- 
 ually, and a little success makes me more self-reliant. 
 ... I feel as if I could write better now more 
 truly of things I have felt, and therefore know. I 
 hope I shall yet do my great book, for that seems 
 to be my work and I am growing up to it. I even 
 think of trying the Atlantic. There's ambition for 
 you ! . . .If Mr. Lowell takes the one Father car- 
 ried to him, I shall think I can do something." 
 
 In December, 1858, Mr. Alcott once again started 
 out on a lecture tour, and May came to Boston and 
 stayed with her sister while she took drawing les- 
 sons. They spent Christmas at home, and the fol- 
 lowing January found Louisa at home again nurs- 
 ing her mother, who was very ill. She was always 
 most gentle and skillful in a sick room ; she thought 
 she had a gift for it. " If I couldn't write or act, 
 I'd try it," she said ; " I may yet." 
 
 Her most important story at this time was " Mark 
 Field's Mistake," to which she added a sequel. 
 " Had a queer time over it," she says in her journal, 
 " getting up at night to write it, being too full to 
 sleep." This was a very bad habit which grew
 
 PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 115 
 
 upon her in later years, when the books and the 
 stories came fast and thick. 
 
 " ' Mark ' is a success," she writes, " and much 
 praised. . . . Busy life, writing, sewing, getting all 
 I can from lectures, books, and good people. Life is 
 my college. May I graduate well and earn some 
 honors ! " 
 
 One thing this year in Boston did prove to her 
 that teaching was not her vocation ; she resolved 
 thenceforth to do as little as possible, for the writing 
 was beginning to pay much better. She went back 
 to Concord in April, glad to be there, if the truth 
 must be known. This had been her third attempt at 
 supporting herself in Boston, and she had done far 
 better than she had hoped. She had grown in 
 every way; she had gained experience, she stood 
 firmly on her own strong feet ; the same feet which 
 carried her from Concord to Boston one day, a dis- 
 tance of twenty miles, and supported her through a 
 dance the same evening without the faintest fatigue. 
 
 Louisa Alcott at twenty-seven was a fine, healthy, 
 heroic young creature, one destined always to stay 
 young, though the world grew old around her. In 
 November, her birth month, her first great luck 
 came to her. " Hurrah ! " she writes, " my story 
 was accepted and Lowell asked if it was not a trans- 
 lation from the German, it was so unlike most tales. 
 I felt much set up and my fifty dollars will be very 
 happy money. People seem to think it a great thing 
 to get into the Atlantic; but I've not been pegging
 
 n6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 away all these years in vain, and I may yet have 
 books, and publishers, and a fortune of my own. 
 Success has gone to my head and I wander a little. 
 Twenty-seven years old and very happy ! " 
 
 John Brown was executed on December 2, 1859, 
 and Louisa mourned with all the others in Concord. 
 It was the first note of the war, and the men and 
 women stood ready to do their part, awaiting the 
 call. 
 
 In March, 1860, she wrote " A Modern Cinder- 
 ella," making Anna the heroine, and John Pratt the 
 hero; this she sent to the Atlantic and they accepted 
 it at once. It is a simple little story with something 
 of the same charm that hovers round " Little 
 Women " and " An Old-Fashioned Girl," and for 
 that reason it was sure to attract. Quite elated over 
 this success, she began another story, " By the 
 River," but one could never tell by the tone of it how 
 in reality she was bubbling over with happiness and 
 hope, for it is mournful to a degree, and sounds like 
 a funeral dirge. This was most unnatural for Lou- 
 isa, who though a young woman of many moods, 
 was generally cheerful on paper. She tells us how 
 on meeting Miss Rebecca Harding, who had made 
 some stir as an author, the two sat apart and com- 
 pared notes. Louisa describes her as " a handsome, 
 fresh, quiet woman, who says she never had any 
 troubles, though she writes about woes. I told her 
 I had had lots of troubles; so I write jolly tales; 
 and we wondered why we each did so."
 
 PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 117 
 
 She took to sewing after this ; her clever ideas 
 got into her needle quite as often as they did into 
 her pen. She made a beautiful ball dress for May, 
 and two riding habits for May and herself. " So 
 one of our dreams came true," she says, " and we 
 really did ' dash away on horseback.' " 
 
 Being tall, graceful girls they must have looked 
 well on horseback, and I dare say harum-scarum Jo 
 told the absolute truth when she described in " Lit- 
 tle Women " how Amy learned to ride. " She 
 used to practice mounting, holding the reins, and 
 sitting straight on an old saddle in the tree." 
 
 All the Concord boys and girls rode horseback, 
 so it is pretty certain that Louisa and May had 
 many a companion to share the pleasure of those 
 fair spring days. Louisa was adored by the young 
 people in Concord, especially the boys, and that is 
 perhaps the real secret of why she never married. 
 She liked men of ripe years and hoary locks, or boys 
 " young and tender " like those in Concord or Bos- 
 ton, but men of her own age stirred no passing 
 emotion. She tells us of a funny lover, aged forty, 
 who lost his heart to her in the cars. He was a 
 handsome Southerner, and called upon her to pay 
 his addresses. When she refused to see him, he 
 haunted the road, with his hat off, to the amusement 
 of her sisters, who had great fun over " Jo's lover." 
 " My adorers are all queer," she adds. 
 
 In the early part of May, Theodore Parker died 
 in Florence, where he had gone for his health. In
 
 Tl8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 June she went to Boston, to the memorial meeting 
 for him, which was very beautiful. " I was glad 
 to have known so good a man and been called 
 * friend ' by him." 
 
 On the 23d of May, Anna was married. Her 
 uncle, the Rev. S. J. May, performed the cere- 
 mony, and in " Little Women " Miss Alcott has 
 given us a vivid description of the sweet old- 
 fashioned wedding, the difference being that Beth 
 was not there, only the two comely sisters, in their 
 thin gray gowns and roses, and the bride in her 
 silver-gray silk and little white bonnet, with the 
 lilies of the valley that her John loved best. 
 
 It must have been a solemn moment, this going 
 away of the eldest daughter, but the day was beau- 
 tiful, " the house full of sunshine, flowers, friends, 
 and happiness," and their parents' wedding-day be- 
 sides. " I mourn the loss of my Nan," says Louisa, 
 " and am not comforted." Nevertheless, knowing 
 how closely smiles followed tears in Louisa's nature, 
 we can imagine her the life of the fun and frolic 
 that followed, when the old folks danced around 
 the bridal pair on the lawn, making a pretty picture 
 beneath their Revolutionary elm. 
 
 " Then with tears and kisses, our dear girl went 
 happily away with her good John, and we ended 
 our first wedding. Mr. Emerson kissed her, and I 
 thought that honor would make even matrimony 
 endurable, for he is the god of my idolatry, and has 
 been for years."
 
 PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 119 
 
 Though she might make merry at the wedding 
 feast, she loved this elder sister as her second self, 
 and we can picture Louisa, after the bride's de- 
 parture, rushing up to the garret, flinging herself 
 down in a heap, and bedewing the old chests and 
 rag bags with a few hearty tears.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 
 
 the family fortunes had 
 been looking up, and with the appoint- 
 ment of Mr. Alcott as Superintendent of 
 Schools in Concord, there was much re- 
 joicing. He soon began to change the order of 
 things. Just as years ago, he had put forth new 
 ideas about teaching, so with the same will, he in- 
 sisted upon them now. The children were always 
 first to him, and they soon began to look upon the 
 tall, white-haired, stately gentleman as their friend 
 and playmate. In Louisa's first letter to Anna after 
 her marriage, written the following Sunday indeed, 
 she gives a humorous description of one of their 
 frolics : 
 
 " MRS. PRATT 
 
 " MY DEAR MADAM : 
 
 " The news of the town is as follows, and I 
 present it in the most journalesque style of corre- 
 spondence. After the bridal train had departed, the 
 mourners withdrew to their respective homes; and 
 the bereaved family solaced their woe by washing
 
 THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 121 
 
 dishes for two hours, and bolting the remains of the 
 funeral baked meats. At four, having got settled 
 down, we were all routed up by the appearance of 
 a long procession of children filing down our lane, 
 headed by the Misses H. and R. Father rushed to 
 the cellar and appeared with a large basket of ap- 
 ples, which went the rounds with much effect. The 
 light infantry formed in a semi-circle, and was 
 watered by the matron and maids. It was really a 
 pretty sight these seventy children loaded with 
 wreaths and flowers, standing under the elm in 
 the sunshine, singing in full chorus the song I 
 wrote for them [to the tune of ' Wait for the 
 Wagon ']." 
 
 Here are the first and the last verses, but we may 
 be sure that all four were sung with a will by the 
 light-hearted little group. 
 
 The world lies fair about us, and a friendly sky above, 
 Our lives are full of sunshine, our hearts are full of love; 
 Few cares or sorrows sadden the beauty of our day, 
 We gather simple pleasures, like daisies by the way. 
 
 Oh! sing with cheery voices, 
 
 Like robins on the tree; 
 
 For little lads and lasses, 
 
 As blithe of heart should be. 
 
 There's not a cloud in heaven, but drops its silent dew, 
 Nor violet in the meadow, but blesses with its hue; 
 Nor happy child in Concord, who may not do its part, 
 To make the great world better, by innocence of heart.
 
 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Oh, blossom in the sunshine, 
 Beneath the village tree; 
 For little lads and lasses 
 Are the fairest flowers we see. 
 
 " It was a neat little compliment to the Superin- 
 tendent and his daughter," goes on Louisa in her 
 bulletin to Anna, " who was glad to find that her 
 ' pome ' was a favorite among the ' lads and lasses ' 
 who sang it ' with cheery voices like robins on the 
 tree.' Father put the finishing stroke to the spec- 
 tacle, by going off at full speed, hoppity-skip, and 
 all the babes followed in a whirl of rapture at the 
 idea. He led them up and down, and round and 
 round, until they were tired; then they fell into 
 order, and with a farewell song, marched away, 
 seventy of the happiest little ones I ever wish to 
 see." 
 
 She goes on to tell of a reception given to John 
 Brown's widow, his widowed daughter-in-law, and 
 his little grandson. The hospitable Alcotts made 
 preparations for twenty at the most, but when forty 
 came, she says " our neat little supper turned out a 
 regular ' tea fight.' We got through it," she con- 
 cludes, in her letter to Anna, " but it was an awful 
 hour; and Mother wandered in her mind, utterly 
 lost in a grove of teapots, while B. pervaded the 
 neighborhood, demanding hot water, and we girls 
 sowed cake broadcast through the land." 
 
 She continues with her description:
 
 THE SIGN OP THE HORSESHOE. 123 
 
 " When the plates were empty and the teapots 
 dry, people wiped their mouths and confessed at last 
 that they had done. A conversation followed in 
 which . . . Uncle and Father mildly upset the 
 world; . . . then some Solomon suggested that the 
 Alcotts must be tired, and everyone departed but C. 
 and S. We had a polka by Mother and Uncle, the 
 lancers by C. and B., an etude by S., after which 
 scrabblings of feast appeared, and we ' drained the 
 dregs of every cup,' all cakes and pies we gobbled 
 up, then peace fell upon us and our remains were 
 interred decently." 
 
 With all her festive soul Louisa loved entertain- 
 ments, whether public or private. She wrote a song 
 for her father's annual school festival. " Father 
 got up the affair," she says in her journal, " and 
 such a pretty affair was never seen in Concord be- 
 fore. He said : ' We spend much on our cattle and 
 flower shows, let us each spring have a show of our 
 children, and begrudge nothing for their culture.' 
 The schools all met in the hall, four hundred strong, 
 a pretty posy-bed with a border of proud parents 
 and friends. Father was in glory, like a happy 
 shepherd with a flock of sportive lambs; for all did 
 something. Each school had its badge one pink 
 ribbons; one, green shoulder-knots; one, wreaths of 
 pop-corn on the curly pates. One school to whom 
 Father had read ' Pilgrim's Progress ' told the 
 story, one child after the other popping up to say 
 his or her part, and at the end a little tot walked
 
 124 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 forward, saying with a pretty air of wonder : ' And 
 behold, it was all a dream ' ! " 
 
 The children surprised Mr. Alcott on this oc- 
 casion with a gift of George Herbert's " Poems " 
 and " Pilgrim's Progress," beautifully bound, as a 
 token of their love and respect, so, as Louisa said, 
 " the Alcotts were uplifted in their vain minds." 
 It is wonderful the hold " Pilgrim's Progress " al- 
 ways has on the minds of children ; the little Alcott 
 girls had heard the tale from babyhood, and to every 
 Concord child who came under Mr. Alcott's inspec- 
 tion, the story was as familiar as the alphabet. 
 
 About this time the town was wild with what 
 Louisa called " the gymnastic fever." " Everyone," 
 she says, " has become a perambulating windmill." 
 It attacked the young people fiercely. The boys, no 
 doubt, thought it fine training for the future 
 soldiers, and the girls approved of it because they 
 wanted to show that Concord had as much muscle 
 as brain. She tells about this popular craze in one 
 of her stories, " The King of Clubs and the Queen 
 of Hearts," which is the romance of the leader of 
 the gymnasium, and a very graceful, active young 
 pupil. Her opening description of an evening class 
 is vivid and amusing : 
 
 " Five and twenty ladies, all in a row, sat on one 
 side of the hall, looking very much as if they felt 
 like the little old woman who fell asleep on the 
 king's highway, and awoke with abbreviated drap- 
 ery, for they were all arrayed in gray tunics, and
 
 THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 125 
 
 Turkish continuations, profusely adorned with 
 many-colored trimmings. Five and twenty gentle- 
 men, all in a row, sat on the opposite side of the 
 hall, looking somewhat subdued, as men are apt to 
 do, when they fancy they are in danger of making 
 fools of themselves. They also were in costume, 
 for all the dark ones had grown piratical, in red 
 shirts, and the light ones, nautical, in blue, while 
 a few boldly appeared in white, making up in starch 
 and studs what they lost in color, and all were more 
 or less Byronic as to collar. 
 
 " On the platform appeared a pile of dumb-bells, a 
 regiment of clubs, and a pyramid of bean-bags, and 
 stirring nervously among them, a foreign-looking 
 gentleman, the new leader of a class lately formed 
 by Dr. Thor Turner, whose mission it was to 
 strengthen the world's spine and convert it to a 
 belief in air and exercise by setting it to balancing 
 its poles, and spinning merrily while enjoying the 
 ' sun-cure ' on a large scale." 
 
 " Abby and I are among the pioneers," she writes 
 further in her journal, " and the delicate vegetable 
 productions," meaning the Alcott girls who never 
 ate meat, " clash their cymbals in private, when 
 the beef-eating young ladies faint away." 
 
 The Orchard House guests came thick and fast, 
 and people of note began to find out the quiet 
 Alcotts and enjoy visiting them. " Saturday," 
 writes Louisa to her aunt, Mrs. Bond, " we had J. 
 G. Whittier, Charlotte Cushman, Miss Stebbins, the
 
 126 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 sculptress, and Mr. Stuart, conductor of the under- 
 ground railroad of this charming free country; so 
 you see our humble place of abode is perking up, 
 and when the great ' authoress and artist ' are fairly 
 out of the shell, we shall be an honor to the com- 
 munity and a terror to the foe." 
 
 After Anna's wedding, Louisa ran up to Boston 
 to see the little farce she had written so many years 
 ago, presented at last at the Howard Athenaeum. 
 She sat proudly in a box, and a bouquet was handed 
 to the author, but it was not well acted after all the 
 waiting, much to her disappointment, so she turned 
 to her stories with redoubled vigor. The Atlantic 
 took a great many, and the steadily increasing pay 
 was very encouraging ; it was delightful to feel that 
 when " Plato needed new shirts, and Minerva a 
 pair of boots, and Hebe a fall hat " she had only to 
 write a story with those praiseworthy objects in 
 view, and behold! they would appear. But there 
 was nothing as yet in these numerous efforts to 
 secure any lasting fame. 
 
 In August, 1860, she began to write " Moods." 
 She was full of it, and " genius burned " so fiercely 
 that for four weeks she wrote all day long, and 
 planned all night long, and seemed perfectly happy 
 when at last the rough copy of the book was " put 
 away to settle." Mr. Emerson offered to read it, 
 but the manuscript was not ready for inspection. 
 
 In October she writes : " I went to Boston and 
 saw the Prince of Wales trot over the Common
 
 THE SIGN OP THE HORSESHOE. 127 
 
 with his train at a review, a yellow-haired laddie 
 very like his mother. Fanny W. and I nodded and 
 waved as he passed, and he openly winked his boy- 
 ish eye at us, for Fanny with her yellow curls and 
 wild waving looked rather rowdy, and the poor lit- 
 tle prince wanted some fun. We laughed and 
 thought we had been more distinguished by the 
 saucy wink than by a stately bow. Boys are always 
 jolly even princes." 
 
 About this time Mrs. Alcott paid a visit to her 
 brother, and Louisa was left housekeeper. With her 
 usual energy she gave her whole mind to her home 
 duties and " dreamed dip-toast, talked apple-sauce, 
 thought pies, and wept drop-cakes." Anna came 
 up to cheer her in her struggles, and " Moods " was 
 brought out, read, laughed and cried over. " So I 
 felt encouraged," writes Louisa, " and will touch it 
 up when duty no longer orders me to make a burnt- 
 offering of myself." 
 
 Her twenty-eighth birthday she celebrated at 
 home with her father, and they exchanged gifts. 
 He gave her Emerson's picture, and she gave him 
 a ream of paper, so both were pleased. 
 
 May, the luck child, received a gift of money for 
 drawing lessons, so she went to Boston to take them. 
 " She is one of the fortunate ones and gets what she 
 wants easily," writes Louisa. " I have to grub for 
 my help or go without it. Good for me, doubt- 
 less, or it wouldn't be so; so cheer up, Louisa, and 
 grind away ! "
 
 I2 8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 May's good fortune still continued; she wanted 
 to go to Syracuse to teach, and was able to secure 
 a position at once. Louisa dropped everything to 
 " sew like a steam-engine " getting her ready, and 
 went to Boston with her to see her safely on her 
 way. From that time these two sisters drew very 
 close together. Louisa's big heart ached for some- 
 thing to take care of, to fill the place made vacant 
 by Elizabeth's death. She was proud of May's 
 talent and of her social success, gloried in her grace 
 and beauty, and, as usual, forgot herself in working 
 for others. 
 
 Emerson invited her to his class when they met 
 to talk on genius, and Louisa was much pleased at 
 the honor, " as all, the learned ladies go." She was 
 also asked to the John Brown meeting, but she did 
 not go though she sent a " pome " instead, which 
 was published in the paper. " Not good," she 
 writes, " I'm a better patriot than poet, and couldn't 
 say what I felt." 
 
 The following Christmas was very quiet. " No 
 merry-making; for Nan and May were gone, and 
 Betty under the snow. But we are used to hard 
 times, and as Mother says : ' while there is a famine 
 in Kansas, we mustn't ask for sugar-plums.' All the 
 philosophy in our house is not in the study ; a good 
 deal is in the kitchen, where a fine old lady thinks 
 high thoughts and does fine deeds while she cooks 
 and scrubs." 
 
 Early in January she started work on a new book.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 129 
 
 " Success " she called it at first, but ten years later 
 when it made its bow to the public, it was called 
 " Work." Unfortunately she had scarcely started 
 when Mrs. Alcott had another severe illness, so 
 Louisa corked up her inkstand and turned nurse. 
 Alas ! it was not the time of fountain pens or even 
 of decent steel ones else we might have found this 
 energetic young woman, with pad upon her knee, 
 scribbling away in the " wee sma' hours " at the 
 invalid's bedside. However, Mrs. Alcott's strong 
 constitution pulled her through safely, and the 
 household rejoiced. 
 
 " Father had four talks at Emerson's," she writes 
 a little later. " Good people came and he enjoyed 
 them much ; made thirty dollars ; Emerson probably 
 put in twenty. He has a sweet way of bestowing 
 gifts on the table, under a book, or behind a 
 candlestick, when he thinks Father wants a little 
 money and no one will help him earn. A true friend 
 is this tender, illustrious man." 
 
 In February, 1861, she started again on 
 "Moods"; she worked from the second to the 
 twenty-fifth, scarcely stopping to eat or drink. 
 Sleeping was impossible, and for three days she did 
 not even take time to get up in the morning, but 
 wrote, wrote, wrote, scattering papers like a bil- 
 lowy sea around her. On these days she wore a 
 green silk cap with a red bow, and an old green and 
 red party wrap, which she wound around her as a 
 cloak." She could not eat regularly, so her
 
 ! 3 o LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 mother brought her cups of tea, and her father red 
 apples and his very best cider, while she scribbled 
 on in her " grove " of manuscripts, " living for im- 
 mortality " as May said. Concord was having its 
 winter fun, but little she cared; when in a " vor- 
 tex," nothing mattered. 
 
 This sort of thing could not go on forever ; even 
 Louisa's hardy frame broke down. Her head was 
 dizzy, her legs shaky, and there was no sleep for 
 the rampant busy mind, so she dropped her pen, 
 " took long walks, cold baths, and had Nan up to 
 frolic with me. Read all I had done to my family, 
 and father said : * Emerson must see this. Where 
 did you get your metaphysics ? ' Mother pro- 
 nounced it wonderful, and Anna laughed and cried 
 as she always does over my works, saying : ' My 
 dear, I'm proud of you/ So I had a good time, 
 even if it never comes to anything, for it was worth 
 something to have my three dearest sit up till mid- 
 night, listening with wide-open eyes to Lu's first 
 novel." This home praise was very precious to her, 
 and, one and all, they rallied around " Moods," in- 
 sisting on its greatness through all its subsequent 
 trials. For years Louisa wrestled with this, her pet 
 child, loved more tenderly after each cuff the cruel 
 world gave it. In " Little Women " we cannot 
 help sympathizing with poor Jo, who " with Spar- 
 tan firmness laid her first-born on the table and 
 chopped it up as ruthlessly as any ogre. In the hope 
 of pleasing everyone, she took everyone's advice;
 
 THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 131 
 
 and, like the old man and his donkey in the fable, 
 suited nobody." 
 
 " Her father liked the metaphysical streak which 
 had unconsciously got into it, so it was allowed to 
 remain though she had her doubts about it; her 
 mother thought there was a trifle too much descrip- 
 tion; out, therefore, it nearly all came, and with it 
 many necessary links in the story. Meg admired 
 the tragedy; so Jo piled up the agony to suit her; 
 while Amy objected to the fun, and with the best 
 intentions in life, Jo quenched the sprightly scenes, 
 which relieved the somber character of the story. 
 Then, to complete the ruin, she cut it down one 
 third, and confidingly sent the poor little romance 
 like a picked robin, out into the big, busy world, to 
 try its fate. 
 
 " Well, it was printed, and she got three hun- 
 dred dollars for it; likewise plenty of praise and 
 blame, both so much greater than she expected that 
 she was thrown into a state of bewilderment, from 
 which it took her some time to recover." 
 
 Up to this time, Louisa had succeeded so well 
 with her shorter romances that she fondly believed 
 her highest ambition would be gratified in writing 
 a novel. Her plot is interesting enough, her writing 
 is excellent, but no one should read " Moods " by 
 way of introduction to Miss Alcott. There is not 
 a natural character in the story. Sylvia, the heroine, 
 the child of moods, was intended by Miss Alcott 
 to be a portrait of herself; but any two beings more
 
 I3 2 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 unlike than the willful, beautiful, unreasonable, wild 
 little Sylvia, and the sane practical, dependable, self- 
 reliant Louisa, could scarcely be conceived; their 
 ideas of right and wrong were totally opposed. 
 Louisa had moods it is true, but she also had the 
 power to suppress them, so that they should not 
 cause unhappiness to others, and just as Jo met 
 Apollyon in " Little Women," so Louisa wrestled 
 with her darker self; but Sylvia never wrestled 
 she let herself go, and dragged others with her. 
 
 The only point of resemblance between the two 
 girls was in their remarkable dramatic gift; Sylvia 
 being even more talented than Louisa, if we can 
 believe the too-partial author. At any rate the book 
 is not the wholesome food Miss Alcott usually gives 
 us, and though it was her first effort and was 
 counted praiseworthy by many, it should be read 
 among the last of her works by those who truly 
 wish to know her at her best. 
 
 Louisa's heroines had a strong leaning to the 
 stage, which was very natural, all things considered. 
 Even her last book, " Jo's Boys," contains a stage- 
 struck little Josie, who is a more lifelike image 
 of Louisa in her youth than many of her earlier 
 portraits. She saw herself and her simple efforts 
 more clearly in her later years, when her dramatic 
 ambition was a thing of the past. 
 
 For a time " Moods " was laid away to " sim- 
 mer," for in April, war was declared between the 
 North and South, and Concord sent her company
 
 THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 133 
 
 of soldier boys to Washington. " A busy time get- 
 ting them ready," writes Louisa, " and a sad day 
 seeing them off, for in a little town like this we all 
 seem one family in times like these. At the sta- 
 tion, the scene was very dramatic as the brave boys 
 went away, perhaps never to come back again. I've 
 often longed to see a war, and now I have my 
 wish. I long to be a man; but as I can't fight, I 
 will content myself with working for those who 
 can." 
 
 John Brown's daughters came to board with them 
 at a time when Louisa's head was crammed with 
 stories and plots, and she was forced to lay aside 
 her pen and turn to housekeeping. It was a great 
 disappointment, but she " had it out " with herself 
 up in the garret, on her favorite fat rag-bag, and 
 felt better when her " fit of woe " was over. 
 
 Her little spare time' was spent in sewing for 
 the soldiers, with an occasional run into Boston or a 
 visit to Anna in the " dove-cot " in Chelsea. May 
 came home in July, delighted with her first year's 
 experience, and lucky in securing a position as draw- 
 ing teacher in Sanborn's school for the coming year. 
 It was a delight to Louisa to have her home for 
 many reasons; she had a great flow of spirits, and 
 her social graces made her quite a belle. This 
 brought a great deal of outside life and breeziness 
 into the old house, and gave Louisa many a chance 
 to run away when the restless spirit urged her. In 
 1862, at the suggestion of Elizabeth P. Peabody,
 
 I 3 4 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 she was persuaded to open a kindergarten in Bos- 
 ton. It was her last venture in teaching, and under- 
 taken very much against her will, out of friendship 
 for Miss Peabody, and a very natural desire to make 
 money. But it was too early for kindergartens; 
 parents had not yet learned their value for very 
 little children, and Louisa found it hard, unprofita- 
 ble work, for the school did not make enough to 
 pay her board and an assistant she was forced to 
 have. 
 
 She went to and from Concord each day ; whether 
 walking or riding, it made no difference, forty miles 
 a day was dull work, but home was at the end of 
 the struggle, which was some comfort at least. In 
 April she writes : " I gave it up, as I could do so 
 much better at something else. May took my place 
 for a month, that I might keep my part of the 
 bargain; and I cleaned house and wrote a story, 
 which made more than all my months of teach- 
 ing. They ended in a wasted winter and a debt 
 of forty dollars to be paid if I sell my hair to 
 do it." 
 
 This forty dollars had been advanced to her for 
 school fittings, by Mr. Fields of Boston, who rubbed 
 her up the wrong way by remarking : " Stick to 
 your teaching; you can't write." She replied with 
 her customary spirit : " I won't teach ; and I can 
 write, and I'll prove it." 
 
 She saw a good deal of Boston society that win- 
 ter, but the " great beings " did not impress her.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 135 
 
 She had lived too much in the fine Concord atmos- 
 phere to be caught by mere social glitter, and she 
 found out, too, that in many cases she was asked 
 to visit people because of her power to entertain 
 them, which independent Louisa resented with all 
 her honest soul. 
 
 Mr. Lowell's praise of the tales she sent to the 
 Atlantic always tuned her up to higher efforts; they 
 were never great efforts, but as she says in her 
 journal : " I enjoy romancing to suit myself ; and 
 though my tales are silly, they are not bad ; and my 
 sinners always have a good spot somewhere. I hope 
 it is good drill for fancy and language, for I can 
 do it fast; and Mr. Lowell says my tales are so 
 ' dramatic, vivid, and full of plot/ they are just 
 what he wants." 
 
 There were very few writers of short stories in 
 those times, and very few magazines which accepted 
 such wares; the weeklies took tales of adventure 
 and romance, such as Louisa wrote in her young 
 enthusiasm, but short-story writing in itself was 
 not the art it is to-day, and Miss Alcott's early 
 contributions, while much better than the average 
 story of that period, fall far short of the average 
 story of the present. She was quick enough to feel 
 this herself, but the editors were only too anx- 
 ious to get stories of earnest purpose and real 
 people. 
 
 September and October were uneventful months ; 
 working for the soldiers, writing thrilling tales in 
 10
 
 136 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 a state of suppressed excitement, for the war news 
 was bad. " Anxious faces, beating hearts, and busy 
 minds," she writes. " I like the stir in the air and 
 long for battle, like a war-horse when he smells 
 powder. The blood of the Mays is up ! " 
 
 Her thirtieth birthday in November occurred at 
 home, in the midst of preparations for any sudden 
 call to Washington, whither she had decided to go 
 as a hospital nurse. This was, though she never 
 dreamed it at the time the turning-point in her 
 career. 
 
 On this particular occasion her friends, far and 
 near, remembered her birthday with loving gifts. 
 Her neighbors, the Hawthornes, with whom, from 
 the oldest to the youngest, she was a great favorite, 
 sent her a package, for which she thanked them in 
 the following verses : 
 
 The Hawthorne is a gracious tree, 
 
 From latest twig to parent root, 
 For when all others leafless stand, 
 
 It gayly blossoms and bears fruit. 
 On certain days a friendly wind, 
 
 Wafts from its spreading boughs a store 
 Of canny gifts that flutter in, 
 
 Like snowflakes at a neighbor's door. 
 
 The spinster who has just been blessed, 
 Finds solemn thirty much improved 
 
 By proofs that such a crabbed soul 
 Is still remembered and beloved.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 137 
 
 Kind wishes "Ancient Lu" has stored 
 In the "best chamber" of her heart, 
 
 And every gift on Fancy's stage, 
 Already plays its little part. 
 
 Long may it stand, the friendly tree, 
 
 That blooms in Autumn and in Spring, 
 Beneath whose shade the humblest bird 
 
 May safely sit, may gratefully sing. 
 Time will give it an evergreen name, 
 
 Age cannot harm it frost cannot kill; 
 With Emerson's pine and Thoreau's oak, 
 
 Will the Hawthorne be loved and honored still! 
 
 When the call came at last, all Concord was as 
 much excited as if a real company of soldiers was 
 marching to battle, and indeed it was heroic of 
 Louisa, though she would have been the last person 
 to place herself upon a pedestal. It meant a sacri- 
 fice of health and strength, but no thought of self 
 would have held her back. She gave what she had 
 to give and gave it gladly. " I am sending my only 
 son to the war," said her father, and truly a son's 
 heart beat courageously under the despised "bib 
 and tucker," as Louisa set out on her perilous 
 journey.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 
 
 1ERTAINLY never until the moment of 
 starting did the full meaning of the 
 word separation dawn upon Louisa. 
 The summons from Washington came 
 on December nth, and the new nurse was ordered 
 to start for Georgetown the very next day and re- 
 port at the Union Hotel Hospital, where there was 
 a vacancy. It was a hard post, but though disap- 
 pointed at not being called to Washington, Louisa 
 had no idea of drawing back." This offer of her 
 services came from her heart; it was a bit of her 
 religion and her patriotism, and so she and her 
 family and friends fell to work on final prepara- 
 tions, with all the enthusiasm that Concord and 
 its surroundings could produce. May and young 
 Julian Hawthorne were to be the guards of honor 
 to the depot, and when the last good-bys were 
 said, and the last flutter of handkerchiefs was lost 
 to view at the turn of the road, this brave young 
 woman realized, as never before, what the parting 
 meant to them all. She might never come back. 
 The wards of the hospitals were deadly to many a 
 138
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 139 
 
 strong constitution, and the accommodations, even 
 for the sick and wounded who needed immediate 
 attention, were of the poorest. 
 
 Mr. Alcott's philosophy, as sincere as it was wise, 
 helped him truly in this painful hour. But the 
 mother's full heart overflowed as she held this 
 beloved daughter close. 
 
 " How can I let you go ! " she cried in passionate 
 protest, but the next moment the brave woman 
 smiled through her tears. Louisa was her only 
 " son," and she would have sent a dozen to the 
 war if she had had them. " Go, and God be with 
 you," she said, and so in the twilight of a muddy, 
 dismal day Louisa and her escort tramped to the 
 village depot, brave enough outwardly, but de- 
 pressed in spirit. 
 
 Had she been alone, Louisa might have shed a 
 few natural tears, but May, who was very much 
 in the same state, would have given way entirely 
 at the first breakdown, and as Julian Hawthorne 
 was only sixteen and much impressed by the hero- 
 ism already displayed, both sisters were on their 
 mettle, and the good-bys were said as simply and 
 quietly as if the going off as an army nurse were 
 an ordinary occurrence. 
 
 After a wearing day in Boston, rushing from 
 pillar to post in search of a free pass, paying visits 
 to interested relatives, calling for parcels here and 
 there, dining in between, Louisa found herself at 
 last seated in the car, waving good-by to a tearful
 
 I 4 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 group at the station as the train pulled out and she 
 was fairly started on her pilgrimage. 
 
 " A long journey," she calls it, from Boston to 
 Washington, and it probably was, in those days of 
 war and uncertain traffic. From Boston she went 
 to New London, thence by the night-boat to Jersey 
 City. She was not a traveler, having seldom ven- 
 tured out of Massachusetts. Boats were " rare 
 birds " to her, and remembering an old prediction 
 that she "was born to be drowned," the idea of 
 sleeping in a berth struck terror to her soul. She 
 made all sorts of funny preparations in case of sud- 
 den and immediate danger, and finally, as she tells 
 us in " Hospital Sketches," remembering that at 
 the swimming-school the fat girls always floated 
 best, she pinned her hope of future safety to a 
 certain plump old lady who shared the cabin with 
 her. Boats were not arranged for pitching and 
 tumbling as they are these days, when everything 
 is fastened securely in place, and poor Louisa spent 
 a restless night, between her fears and the noise 
 made by the various articles constantly falling off 
 the shelf at the foot of her bed. 
 
 At seven the next morning she found herself in 
 the cars again at Jersey City; very close, crowded, 
 dingy cars, with a stove at one end, with swinging 
 oil lamps, smoky and ill kept. Sometimes there was 
 a water jar, but often a passenger had to look for- 
 ward from station to station for an opportunity 
 to quench his thirst. Everywhere was noise, bustle,
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 
 
 141 
 
 and confusion, and comforts were not looked for 
 in those war times. Indeed, Louisa was glad to 
 have a seat to herself, whereon she could bestow 
 the numerous bags and bundles with which she was 
 laden. She did not reach Washington, which was 
 the end of the railroad journey, until dark, having 
 been two days and one night on the way from Bos- 
 ton to Washington, a trip that can now be made in 
 a day. 
 
 Georgetown was only driving distance from the 
 capital, and Louisa was very impatient to reach her 
 destination. Signs of the war had met her every- 
 where. There were military posts along the route ; 
 troops of soldiers were drilling and marching in the 
 barren fields ; once she saw a body of cavalry prac- 
 ticing in the open, and everywhere men's eager ex- 
 cited voices talked of the last battle or the coming 
 attack. 
 
 At last they drove up before the door of the hos- 
 pital, which loomed out of the darkness, with the 
 Union flag flying high above it, and springing out 
 of the carriage she ran up the steps with all the 
 energy of her enthusiasm. As she passed beneath 
 the frowning portals, she little knew that she had 
 left outside forever the perfect health and the iron 
 constitution that mere hardship and privation could 
 never impair. But the bad ventilation, the poor 
 food, accompanying the sleepless days and nights, 
 and the pitiful plight of the wounded and dying, 
 did their evil work in six weeks' time, when this
 
 I 4 2 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 bravest of soldiers was herself " ordered home on 
 sick leave." 
 
 No period of her life was richer in impressions, 
 and up to that time no period of her life ever reaped 
 a fuller harvest. Her diary, which she kept regu- 
 larly, and the letters she sent home, were teeming 
 with innumerable experiences and anecdotes, all 
 written with her usual vigor and often full of 
 pathos. What she wrote was kept, pieced together, 
 and afterwards published by F. B. Sanborn in 
 the Commonwealth, as a series of sketches which 
 we know to-day under the title " Hospital 
 Sketches." 
 
 Hitherto her stories had been mere " pot-boilers," 
 as she often called them romantic tales, not always 
 true to life, with sometimes almost impossible situa- 
 tions, written, indeed, chiefly for the much-needed 
 money. Now she had no thought of gain, gener- 
 ously giving all that was best in her to a noble cause, 
 she put life into the daily jottings which afterwards 
 took such vivid shape. 
 
 We follow Nurse Periwinkle in and out of the 
 hospital wards, seeing with her eyes, hearing with 
 her ears, knowing that all the sights and sounds 
 are real, laughing with her, crying with her, mourn- 
 ing with her, as she gently folds some dead sol- 
 dier's quiet hands and cuts a lock of his hair for his 
 mother or his wife. It was a hard life, but a rich 
 one in many ways, and in spite of the trials it 
 brought her, Louisa would not have given up that
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 143 
 
 six weeks' experience for all the other years of her 
 usefulness. 
 
 She paints a fine picture of her first busy day at 
 the hospital, when forty ambulances deposited their 
 load of wounded soldiers, fresh from Fredericks- 
 burg. Even in describing the horrors her rich 
 humor breaks out, and we laugh blithely in the 
 midst of our shuddering. The first duty of the 
 nurses was to wash the dirty, bedraggled heroes. 
 She was rather daunted when the head nurse issued 
 the order, and says in her " Hospital Sketches " : 
 
 " If she had requested me to shave them all, or 
 dance a hornpipe on the stove-funnel, I should have 
 been less staggered, but to scrub some dozen lords 
 of creation at a moment's notice was really 
 really However, there was no time for non- 
 sense, and having resolved, when I came, to do 
 everything I was bid, I drowned my scruples in my 
 washbowl, clutched my soap manfully, and assum- 
 ing a businesslike air, made a dab at the first dirty 
 specimen I saw, bent on performing my task. . . . 
 Some of them took the performance like sleepy chil- 
 dren, leaning their tired heads against me as I 
 worked, others looked grimly scandalized, and sev- 
 eral of the roughest colored like bashful girls." 
 
 It was among the first lot that Miss Alcott found 
 her little sergeant. " Baby B." she called him, and 
 paid many a glowing tribute in her " sketches " 
 to this hero, who lost an arm and a leg in the scrim- 
 mage. Then there was Billy, the twelve-year-old
 
 144 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 drummer-boy, and John, " the manliest man among 
 my forty," says Nurse Periwinkle, a sturdy Vir- 
 ginia blacksmith, shot in the back, to whom her 
 heart went out ; and many another Tom, Dick, and 
 Harry, legless, armless, and otherwise maimed, 
 looked upon the comely face of Nurse Periwinkle 
 and blessed her as she moved from cot to cot. 
 
 These tender stories of true life might well touch 
 hearts of stone. A generation ago, perhaps, it was 
 all too fresh in the minds of many, these simple de- 
 tails of suffering and death ; but their children, and 
 their children's children, whether from the North or 
 the South, will find much of homely beauty in these 
 records; there is no attempt at fine writing, which 
 makes them all the stronger, but a sincere desire to 
 show things as they really were in those sad war 
 days, and surely never up to this time had finer 
 work come from her pen. Perhaps the best of all 
 were her lines on " Thoreau's Flute," composed in 
 the hospital during the watches of the night, and, 
 as usual, when she put her heart into a thing, it 
 grew in beauty. This good friend of hers had died 
 the May before, truly mourned by the many who 
 knew and loved him. He was a great loss to Con- 
 cord, among all people and classes, and on the day 
 of his funeral throngs came to show their respect. 
 His coffin was covered with wild flowers, and many 
 beautiful things were said of him by his friends. 
 
 After his death, his flute, which he played so 
 sweetly, hung idle in his room, until one summer
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 145 
 
 night a breeze stole through the window into the 
 hollow of the flute, and " Thoreau's Voice " spoke 
 to those who thought it stilled forever. The strange 
 beauty of the idea took hold of Louisa, and the 
 following exquisite lines show alike how well she 
 loved him, how much she missed him, and how 
 fondly she believed that Nature herself would cher- 
 ish his memory : 
 
 THOREAU'S FLUTE. 
 
 We sighing said, "Our Pan is dead; 
 
 His pipe hangs mute beside the river; 
 
 Around it wistful sunbeams quiver, 
 But Music's airy voice is fled. 
 Spring mourns as for untimely frost; 
 
 The bluebird chants a requiem; 
 
 The willow-blossom waits for him 
 The Genius of the wood is lost." 
 
 Then from the flute, untouched by hands, 
 There came a low harmonious breath: 
 "For such as he there is no death; 
 
 His life the eternal life commands; 
 
 Above man's aims his nature rose. 
 The wisdom of a just content 
 Made one small spot a continent, 
 
 And turned to poetry life's prose. 
 
 "Haunting the hills, the stream, the wild, 
 Swallow and aster, lake and pine, 
 To him grew human or divine 
 
 Fit mates for this large-hearted child.
 
 146 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 
 
 Such homage Nature ne'er forgets, 
 And yearly on the coverlid 
 'Neath which her darling lieth hid, 
 
 Will write his name in violets. 
 
 " To him no vain regrets belong, 
 Whose soul, that finer instrument, 
 Gave to the world no poor lament, 
 
 But wood-notes ever sweet and strong. 
 
 O lonely friend! he still will be, 
 A potent presence, though unseen 
 Steadfast, sagacious, and serene; 
 
 Seek not for him he is with thee." 
 
 But it was not all sadness at the hospital ; among 
 the convalescents, Louisa's healthful presence and 
 cheery companionship did much to help the long 
 days of waiting for discharge. She had come 
 equipped with games and books for the amusement 
 of her patients her favorite Dickens among the lat- 
 ter and there were hilarious times in the old ward 
 when Louisa read aloud or acted some favorite part 
 in her own dashing way. It was certainly charac- 
 teristic of this young woman of moods that, after 
 breaking her heart and crying her eyes out in one 
 ward, she would rush to her room, bathe her face, 
 smooth her hair, catch up her Dickens, and fly to 
 the other, whence in a few moments her voice rang 
 out and the " boys' " hearty laughter chimed in. 
 
 Small wonder, then, that the men adored her, 
 that the nurses deferred to her, that the doctors de-
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT, 147 
 
 pended on her, and so eager and enthusiastic was 
 she over her work that she did not recognize when 
 her own strength began to fail. It was for those 
 around her to notice her lagging step, her loss of 
 sleep and appetite, her feverish activity. 
 
 The doctors ordered her off duty, mildly at first, 
 and then commandingly, as advice seemed unheed- 
 ed. But at last, as she tells us in " Hospital 
 Sketches," Nurse Periwinkle surrendered. " I felt," 
 she said, " if I didn't make a masterly retreat very 
 soon, I should tumble down somewhere and have 
 to be borne ignominiously from the field. My head 
 felt like a cannon-ball; my feet had a tendency to 
 cleave to the floor; the walls at times undulated in a 
 most disagreeable manner; people locked unnat- 
 urally big; the very bottles on the mantelpiece ap- 
 peared to dance derisively before my eyes. ... I 
 resolved to retire gracefully if I must; so with a 
 valedictory to my boys . . . and a fervent wish 
 that I could take off my body and work in my soul, 
 I ascended to my apartment, and Nurse P. was re- 
 ported off duty." 
 
 Even then she refused to be put on the sick list, 
 but for days kept up, coughing and heavy-eyed, 
 while a slow, unsubdued fever burned her flesh. 
 The doctors saw her daily, tapped her lungs and 
 shook their heads. At last Nurse Periwinkle " gave 
 in." She says : " Hours began to get confused ; 
 people looked odd; queer faces haunted the room, 
 and the nights were one long fight with weariness
 
 148 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 and pain. Letters from home grew anxious; the 
 doctors lifted their eyebrows and nodded omi- 
 nously ; friends said, ' Don't stay,' but the three 
 months were not out, and the idea of giving up so 
 soon was proclaiming a defeat before I was fairly 
 routed ; so to all ' Don't stays ' I opposed ' I wills,' 
 until one fine morning a gray-headed gentleman 
 rose like a welcome ghost on my hearth, and at 
 sight of him my resolution melted away, my heart 
 turned traitor to my boys, and when he said, ' Come 
 home/ I answered, ' Yes, Father ' ; and so ended my 
 career as an army nurse." 
 
 Indeed, Nurse Periwinkle was dead and buried 
 from that moment, and on her tombstone Louisa 
 carved the following epitaph : 
 
 Oh! lay her in a little pit, 
 With a marble stone to cover it; 
 And carve thereon a gruel spoon, 
 To show a "nuss" has died too soon. 
 
 She had only a confused idea of what happened 
 afterwards; she remembered saying good-by to a 
 great many people; rough hands gripped hers gen- 
 tly, voices were broken, eyes were dimmed with 
 tears as she passed out of the hospital. There 
 were some who thought she would not live to get 
 home, but Louisa herself thought nothing about it. 
 Her father was with her, and his quiet serenity was 
 something to be grateful for just now. She was
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 149 
 
 too spent even to wonder how he had been able to 
 pass hostile lines to get to her, as he did, in the 
 very nick of time; but there he was; and she turned 
 to him with a sigh like a little child. 
 
 How she got to Boston she never knew; there 
 she had to stay overnight as she was too sick to 
 keep on to Concord, and she had a dreadful time 
 of it at her cousin's, Mr. Sewall's. The next day 
 they got her home somehow, and the last thing she 
 remembered was May's shocked face at the depot, 
 and her mother's bewildered one at home. The doc- 
 tors called her case typhoid pneumonia ; she was 
 delirious for three weeks, while she hovered between 
 life and death, and some of her fancies, though ap- 
 palling at the time, were amusing for her to recall 
 when the danger was past. 
 
 " The most vivid and enduring," she writes, 
 " was the conviction that I had married a stout, 
 handsome Spaniard, dressed in black velvet, with 
 very soft hands, and a voice that was constantly say- 
 ing : ' Lie still, my dear ' ! This was Mother, I sus- 
 pect, but with all the comfort I often found in her 
 presence, there was blended an awful fear of the 
 Spanish spouse, who was always coming after me, 
 appearing out of closets, in at windows, or threat- 
 ening me dreadfully all night long. I appealed to 
 the Pope, and really got up and made a touching 
 plea in something meant for Latin, they tell me. 
 Once I went to Heaven and found it a twilight place, 
 with people darting through the air in a queer way :
 
 150 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 all very busy and dismal and ordinary. ... I 
 found it dark and ' slow ' and wished I hadn't 
 come. A mob at Baltimore breaking down the 
 door to get me, being hung for a witch, burned, 
 stoned, and otherwise maltreated, were some of my 
 fancies." 
 
 When she came to her senses and they told her 
 how ill she had been, she thought it very curious, for 
 she knew nothing of it. " Found a queer, thin, 
 big-eyed face when I looked in the glass/' she writes, 
 " didn't know myself at all, and when I tried to 
 walk, discovered that I couldn't and cried because 
 my legs wouldn't go. ... Never having been sick 
 before, it was all very new and interesting when I 
 got quiet enough to understand matters. . . . The 
 old fancies still lingered, seeming so real, I believed 
 in them, and deluded Mother and May with the most 
 absurd stories, so soberly told that they thought 
 them true. Dr. B. came every day and was very 
 kind. Father and Mother were with me night and 
 day, and May sang ' Birks of Aberfeldie ' or read to 
 me to while away the tiresome hours." 
 
 What Louisa owed to this devoted father and 
 mother there is no telling. Never did parents have 
 their children's welfare more wholly and unselfishly 
 at heart, and it is due to them, not only that Louisa 
 pulled through this terrible illness, but her great suc- 
 cess as an author was the result of their entire 
 unselfishness throughout her life. Mr. F. B. San- 
 born says most truly in his " Life of Amos Bronson
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 151 
 
 Alcott": "Her [Louisa's] success had for its back- 
 ground the whole generous past of her family, . . . 
 for it was only as the historian of the household, 
 the chronicler of their romantic and pathetic story 
 that she could permanently touch the hearts of the 
 public. . . . Nor did she achieve any marked suc- 
 cess in her chosen vocation until she turned into 
 cordial fiction the family life and the girlish senti- 
 ments and adventures of the four sisters." 
 
 So, nursed and coaxed back to life by loving care, 
 Louisa began to mend, and at last crept around like 
 a ghost of herself in caps, for they had cut off her 
 beautiful hair and she mourned for it as truly as Jo 
 did, when she sacrificed her chestnut mane for the 
 good of her country. By March, 1863, she began 
 to dust her books, clear out her piece-bags, and make 
 shaky entries in her diary. She recalled and re- 
 wrote her lines on " Thoreau's Flute," which Mrs. 
 Hawthorne showed to Mr. Fields, then editor of 
 the Atlantic. He was delighted with them and pub- 
 lished them at once. They were much noticed and 
 praised, " also paid for," writes Louisa, " and being 
 a mercenary creature, I liked the ten dollars nearly 
 as well as the honor of being ' a new star ' and ' a 
 literary celebrity.' " 
 
 After the publication of "Thoreau's Flute," 
 which like all other contributions to the magazine, 
 was presented anonymously, Mr. Alcott chanced to 
 be calling on Longfellow. On the poet's table lay 
 a recent copy of the Atlantic. Longfellow opened 
 11
 
 ! 5 2 LOUISA MAY ALGOTT. 
 
 it and said : " I want to read you Emerson's fine 
 poem on ' Thoreau's Flute.' " 
 
 As he began to read Mr. Alcott interrupted him 
 in great delight : 
 
 " My daughter Louisa wrote that." 
 
 In speaking of this to a friend, Louisa said : " Do 
 you wonder that I felt as proud as a peacock when 
 Father came home and told me? " 
 
 On March 28, 1863, Anna's first boy came into 
 the world and was warmly welcomed by his admir- 
 ing family. " I wish you could have seen the per- 
 formance on Saturday evening," writes Louisa, in a 
 letter of congratulation to her sister. " We were 
 all sitting deep in a novel, not expecting Father home 
 owing to the snowstorm, when the door burst open 
 and in he came, all wet and white, waving his bag 
 and calling out : ' Good news ! Good news ! Anna 
 has a fine boy ! ' With one accord we opened our 
 mouths and screamed for about two minutes. Then 
 Mother began to cry; I began to laugh; and May 
 to pour out questions; while Papa beamed upon us 
 all red, damp and shiny, the picture of a proud 
 old grandpa. Such a funny evening as we had! 
 Mother kept breaking down, and each time emerged 
 from her handkerchief saying solemnly : * I must 
 go right down and see that baby ! ' Father had told 
 everyone he met, from Mr. Emerson to the coach 
 driver, and went about the house saying : ' Anna's 
 boy ! Yes, yes, Anna's boy ! ' in a mild state of 
 satisfaction."
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 153 
 
 Louisa and May taxed their brains for a name, 
 and finally decided that Amos Minot Bridge Bron- 
 son May Sewall Alcott Pratt would satisfy every 
 branch of the family, and the result was that Freder- 
 ick Pratt was the name of this important small per- 
 son, who made such a stir in the waters of life 
 when he rose to the surface. We have since met 
 him many times, for this was the first of Louisa's 
 " Little Men," and Demi, she tells us herself, was 
 a faithful portrait of her own sturdy nephew. 
 
 She took great delight in him, and sewed for him 
 like his own special slave, rejoicing in her secret 
 soul, no doubt, that he was a boy, for there had been 
 girls enough in the Alcott family. 
 
 Louisa spent the spring in getting back her 
 strength. After the strenuous six weeks in Wash- 
 ington, she was content to bask in the sunshine and 
 be glad that she was alive. And after all, there is 
 no spring so beautiful as a spring in Concord. A 
 tangle of wild flowers perfumes the woods, and vio- 
 lets cover the hillsides ; the giant trees are lovely in 
 their pale green, backed by the deeper tints of the 
 evergreens; the placid river ripples and sparkles in 
 its joy of living, and whether the sun shines or the 
 gentle rain comes down through a pearl-gray mist, 
 the world is always lovely at this season, and Louisa 
 " felt as if born again, everything seemed so beau- 
 tiful and new." 
 
 She now began to arrange her hospital letters for 
 publication in the Commonwealth, at Mr. Sanborn's
 
 I5 4 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 suggestion. She made three hospital sketches, 
 which were written in story form. " Hospital 
 Sketches " is all comprised in six chapters. The 
 first two " Obtaining Supplies " and " A Forward 
 Movement " are mere explanations of how Nurse 
 Perizvinkle got to the front. "A Day," "A 
 Night," and " Off Duty " are the story portion of 
 the " Sketches," possibly the three she made at 
 first. The sixth chapter, " A Postscript," she added 
 to please her many readers who cried for more. 
 Letter-writing had come so naturally to her that 
 she did not think much of these; she consented to 
 have them published because she needed the money. 
 Much to her surprise they made a great hit, es- 
 pecially " A Night," into which it was plain she had 
 put her whole heart. Famous people began to write 
 her about them. Redpath, the publisher, offered 
 to print them all in book form; and here Roberts 
 Brothers first appeared on the scene; they, too, 
 wanted the " Sketches," but Miss Alcott gave the 
 preference to Redpath. 
 
 " Short-sighted Louisa ! " she adds in her jour- 
 nal, 1877. " Little did you dream that this same 
 Roberts Bros, were to help you make your fortune 
 a few years later. The ' Sketches ' never made 
 much money, but showed me ' my style,' and taking 
 the hint I went where glory waited me." 
 
 Many good stories were the result of the hospital 
 experience. Most of them were gathered into the 
 " Camp and Fireside Stories " which were printed
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 155 
 
 later in the same volume with " Hospital Sketches," 
 though each one first appeared in prominent maga- 
 zines. In October, 1863, she writes in her journal: 
 
 " If ever there was an astonished young woman 
 it is myself, for things have gone on so swim- 
 mingly of late, I don't know who I am. A year 
 ago I had no publisher and went begging with my 
 wares; now three have asked me for something. 
 Several papers are ready to print my contributions, 
 and F. B. S. says : ' Any publisher this side of Bal- 
 timore would be glad to get a book ! ' This is a 
 sudden hoist for a meek and lowly scribbler, who 
 was told to ' stick to her teaching,' and never had a 
 literary friend to lend a helping hand. Fifteen 
 years of hard grubbing may be coming to some- 
 thing after all, and I may yet ' pay all the debts, fix 
 the house and send May to Italy, and keep the old 
 folks cozy ' as I've said I would so long, yet so 
 hopelessly." 
 
 Indeed, her dream was beginning to take shape. 
 Already she was giving May drawing lessons in an- 
 atomy and fitting her out with pretty clothes, for 
 she was very proud of her handsome, talented sis- 
 ter, and was determined that she should wear noth- 
 ing odd or out of taste if she could help it. Poor 
 May, being the youngest, had been forced many a 
 time to wear " handed-down " things, and Louisa 
 has given a clever sketch of what agonies the artist 
 soul went through in her description of Amy's woes 
 in " Little Women."
 
 156 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 The New Year of 1864 dawned bright with 
 promise. Redpath, who scented a fortune in the 
 young authoress, heard of " Moods," and came 
 hurrying to Concord to secure it for publication, so 
 the dear " first-born " was taken out again, chopped 
 and pruned and sawed and hacked, but to no pur- 
 pose ; poor " Moods " seemed to be a black sheep, 
 a ne'er-do-weal in the family. Once more she put 
 it on the shelf and went back to her short stories; 
 the " blood-and-thunder " sort pleased best and the 
 money they brought was very comforting. Some 
 months later she wrote several chapters of " Work," 
 getting along very well, when one night as she lay 
 awake, an idea about shortening " Moods " popped 
 into her head and she had no more sleep. The early 
 morning saw her hard at work, and for two weeks 
 after, she " hardly ate, slept, or stirred, but wrote, 
 wrote like a thinking-machine in full operation. 
 When it was all rewritten, without copying, I 
 found it much improved, though I had taken out ten 
 chapters and sacrificed many of my favorite things." 
 
 However, through her friend, Mrs. D., she got a 
 reading from A. K. Loring, the publisher, and one 
 clay as she sat on the floor putting down the parlor 
 carpet, she received an enthusiastic letter from the 
 publisher praising the book and promising to bring 
 it out at once. The Alcott family immediately had 
 a " rapture," and Louisa finished her work " double 
 quick," regardless of weariness, toothache, or " blue 
 devils."
 
 LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 157, 
 
 So with the end of the old year, 1864, " Moods " 
 was at length cast upon the world. It came out 
 on Christmas Eve, but it never was a luck child. 
 It brought her much care, a bit of a heartache, sleep- 
 less nights, wearing days, but rich experience, for 
 she learned, after many trials, that truth in its sim- 
 plest form is after all one's highest goal, and her 
 efforts from that time on reached upward toward its 
 unwavering light.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 
 
 1FTER " Moods " was well off her mind, 
 Louisa felt better and presented the 
 volume to her mother on her sixty- 
 fourth birthday with this inscription: 
 " To Mother, my earliest patron, kindest critic, dear- 
 est reader, I gratefully and affectionately inscribe 
 my first romance." She began to get a little more 
 notice than she found quite comfortable; her 
 friends' admiration was very precious to her, but 
 when strangers invaded the premises and demanded 
 to see the authoress, she turned thorny. " Admire 
 the books, but let the woman alone, if you please, 
 dear public ! " she wails in her journal. But this 
 was only a foretaste of what she suffered in the 
 years which followed. 
 
 In spite of her success, money was still a rare 
 and beautiful thing, and Louisa sent her " pot- 
 boilers " a-fishing for it as often as ever, with, it 
 must be owned, far greater success. The heads of 
 the Alcott family being now above water, Louisa 
 was fired on one special occasion with a praise- 
 worthy desire to adorn them with bonnets ; her in- 
 158
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 159 
 
 ventive mind found an outlet here as well as in 
 story-writing, and the styles in the early sixties be- 
 ing very pronounced and highly colored, this am- 
 bitious milliner could give rein to her vivid imagi- 
 nation. 
 
 " My Lass," she writes to Anna in a burst of sis- 
 terly confidence, " this must be a frivolous and 
 dressy letter, because you always want to know 
 about our clothes, and we've been at it lately. 
 May's bonnet is a sight for gods and men. Black 
 and white outside, with a great cockade boiling over 
 the front, to meet a red ditto surging from the in- 
 terior, where a red rainbow darts across the brow, 
 and a surf of white lace foams up on each side. 
 I expect to hear that you and John fell flat in the 
 dust with horror on beholding it. My bonnet has 
 nearly been the death of me; for thinking some 
 angel might make it possible for me to go to the 
 mountains, I felt a wish for a tidy hat, after wearing 
 an old one till it fell in tatters from my brow. Mrs. 
 P. promised a bit of gray silk and I built on that; 
 but when I went for it I found my hat was built 
 on sand, for she let me down with a crash, saying 
 she wanted the silk herself, and kindly offering me 
 a flannel petticoat instead. I was in woe for a 
 spell, having one dollar in the world and scorning 
 debt even for that prop of life a ' bonnet.' Then 
 I roused myself, flew to Dodge, demanded her 
 cheapest bonnet, found one for a dollar, took it, and 
 went home wondering if the sky would open and
 
 !6o LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 drop me a trimming. I am simple in my tastes, 
 but a naked straw bonnet is a little too severely 
 chaste even for me. Sky did not open ; so I went 
 to the ' Widow Cruise's oil bottle/ my ribbon-box, 
 which, by the way, is the eighth wonder of the 
 world, for nothing is ever put in, yet I always find 
 some old dud when all other hopes fail. From 
 this salvation bin I extracted the remains of the old 
 white ribbon (used up as I thought two years ago) 
 and the bits of black lace that have adorned a long 
 line of departed hats. Of the lace I made a dish 
 on which I thriftily served up bows of ribbon, like 
 meat on toast. Inside I put the lace bow which 
 adorns my form anywhere when needed. A white 
 flower, A. H. gave me, sat airily on the brim fear- 
 fully unbecoming, but pretty in itself and in keep- 
 ing. Strings are yet to be evolved from chaos. I 
 feel that they await me somewhere in the dim 
 future. Green ones pro tern, hold this wonder of 
 the age upon my gifted brow, and I survey my hat 
 with respectful awe. I trust you will also, and 
 see in it another great example of the power of 
 mind over matter, and the convenience of a co- 
 lossal brain in the primeval wrestle with the unruly 
 atoms which have harassed the feminine soul ever 
 since Eve clapped on a modest fig-leaf and did up 
 her hair with a thorn for a hairpin." 
 
 This letter was written from Concord and showed 
 Louisa in one of her restless moods. The quiet 
 place with its dull routine of housework was very
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 161 
 
 trying at times. For days she would battle with 
 her " discontented mind," then a wild fit of energy 
 would possess her, as on the day she did a big wash 
 alone, baked, swept the house, picked the hops, got 
 dinner, and wrote a chapter on " Moods," which 
 would clear her sky wonderfully, though such ener- 
 getic measures were constantly breaking her down. 
 When there was work to be done, Louisa went at 
 it with all her old vigor, forgetting that her hos- 
 pital experiences had impaired her strength, re- 
 membering this fact only at those times when she 
 was " laid up for repairs." 
 
 She was beginning to be genuinely tired of her 
 " sensational rubbish " as she called the money- 
 making " pot-boilers." There was something bet- 
 ter to do with her gift of writing, if she could only 
 strike out in the right direction. Her work was 
 now carefully considered wherever she sent it, and 
 she had a feeling always in her very earnest young 
 soul that she would like to help the world in some 
 small way, and send a little sunshine into the dark 
 corners. The unexpected reception of her " Hos- 
 pital Sketches " had the effect of spurring her on, 
 and the birth of Our Young Folks, a Boston pub- 
 lication, which in 1873 was bought by the St. 
 Nicholas Magazine, the rising juvenile periodical of 
 the day, turned her thoughts finally in the right 
 direction. She was asked to contribute stories, and 
 her ever-ready mind jumped easily to the fairy 
 tales which had been her delight when younger.
 
 162 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 " Nellie's Hospital " was written at this time and 
 was so much liked that many old tales and poems 
 were dug up from the past, and Louisa let her 
 lovers languish while she turned her attention to 
 the children. Her " grown-up " stories were still 
 eagerly called for and paid for. " An Hour " 
 found a lodging in the Commonwealth. " Mrs. 
 Todger's Teapot " was another excellent bit of 
 work, a Christmas story of 1864. " Moods " sold 
 very quickly at first, and brought her fame, recog- 
 nition, and some money. In December, 1864, 
 Nathaniel Hawthorne's death cast a gloom over the 
 life at Concord. This quiet, shy scholar was much 
 loved in his small circle, and it was his loss, added 
 to her own restlessness, which made Louisa long for 
 flight. 
 
 The New Year of 1865 saw the war drawing to 
 a close. Louisa's deep interest in the cause had 
 not died out, but her health never allowed her to 
 try hospital work again. She sewed zealously for 
 the soldiers, attended meetings in their behalf, and 
 on one occasion she dramatized six scenes from 
 Dickens for a Benefit Fair in Boston. She took 
 part and worked with all her might, clearing 
 twenty-five hundred dollars for the fund. There 
 were dances, fairs, masquerades and teas given in 
 Concord for the Soldiers' Aid Society, in all of 
 which she took an eager interest. 
 
 Acting was then, as always, a pure delight to her, 
 and these war times called for her services. The
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 163 
 
 scenes from Dickens grew very popular, and her 
 work in that line was always brilliant, because she 
 loved it and threw herself into it heart and soul. 
 On April 2d, Richmond fell, and on the I5th, in the 
 midst of the rejoicing, came the news of Lincoln's 
 assassination, and she joined in the nation's mourn- 
 ing. After that, life glided very placidly, too plac- 
 idly for restless Louisa, until June 24th, when an- 
 other little nephew put new life and interest into 
 the family. Coming as he did on Elizabeth's birth- 
 day, he seemed to fill a void in their hearts. He 
 was specially dear to Louisa, whose memory of her 
 sister needed just such living comfort as little John 
 could give. But the dreadful dullness weighed 
 upon her. " Nothing stirring but the wind," she 
 writes ; " nothing to see but dust ; no one comes but 
 rose-bugs, so I grub and scold at the A., because 
 it takes a poor fellow's tales and keeps 'em for years 
 without paying for 'em. If I think of my woes, 
 I fall into a vortex of debts, dish-pans and despon- 
 dency awful to see. So I say ' every path has its 
 puddle ' and try to play gayly with the tadpoles in 
 my puddle, while I wait for the Lord to give me 
 a lift, or some gallant Raleigh to spread his velvet 
 cloak and fetch me over dry-shod." 
 
 She longed for the mountains as she longed for 
 anything that would change the monotony, and 
 many a dismal mood was worked off in her favorite 
 hiding place the old garret. In fancy we can see 
 her curled up on the old discarded lounge, gazing
 
 164 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 disconsolately at the falling summer rain as it 
 splashed on the leaves of the giant trees that looked 
 in at the windows, or pattered on the roof. It was 
 doubtless on some such day that she wrote the poem 
 which we find in " Little Women," with many im- 
 provements and additions. 
 
 Four little chests all in a row, 
 
 Dim with dust and worn by time, 
 All fashioned and filled long ago 
 
 By children now in their prime. 
 Four little keys hung side by side, 
 
 With faded ribbons, brave and gay 
 When fastened there with childish pride, 
 
 Long ago on a rainy day. 
 Four little names, one on each lid, 
 
 Carved out by a boyish hand; 
 And underneath there lieth hid, 
 
 Histories of the happy band 
 Once playing here and pausing oft 
 
 To hear the sweet refrain, 
 That came and went on the roof aloft, 
 
 In the falling summer rain. 
 
 Four little chests all in a row, 
 
 Dim with dust and worn by time: 
 Four women, taught by weal and woe 
 
 To love and labor in their prime; 
 Four sisters parted for an hour 
 
 None lost, one only gone before, 
 Made by love's immortal power, 
 
 Nearest and dearest evermore.
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 165 
 
 Oh! when these hidden stores of ours 
 
 Lie open to the Father's sight, * 
 
 May they be rich in golden hours 
 
 Deeds that show fairer for the light, 
 Deeds whose brave music long shall ring, 
 
 Like a spirit-stirring strain, 
 Souls that shall gladly soar and sing 
 
 In the long sunshine, after rain. 
 
 She did not have to wait much longer for the lift 
 she needed, for she writes : " Mr. W., hearing that 
 I was something of a nurse and wanted to travel, 
 proposed my going with his invalid daughter. I 
 agreed, though I had my doubts. But everyone 
 said ' Go/ and so after a week of worry I did go." 
 
 They sailed July ipth for Liverpool, and here 
 shone for Louisa the new light which was to guide 
 her literary life. It was a ten days' voyage, and 
 possibly not such a pleasant one as on the ocean 
 liners of to-day, with all their comfort and mag- 
 nificence. She was not sick, only " uncomfortable " 
 as she expressed it, but she enjoyed the ever-chang- 
 ing sea, the fine sunsets, even the sunrises, for being 
 an enterprising young woman, we may be sure she 
 was up early. There were fogs, and icebergs, rain- 
 storms and summer calms, all of which were most 
 interesting and instructive, but she was glad to get 
 to Liverpool, on solid earth again, then on to 
 London. 
 
 Of this first trip abroad she has left but a frag- 
 mentary record; a few jottings in her journal and
 
 T 66 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 a few facts scattered here and there among her 
 stories. The account in " Little Women " of 
 Amy's trip abroad, is certainly her own experience, 
 with the " story " part left out ; but we glean from 
 her journal that the " four dull, drizzling days " 
 spent in London were most depressing. She went 
 to the parks, Westminster Abbey, and the famous 
 streets she had read about in English novels. From 
 London they went to Dover, then by steamer to 
 Ostend. Louisa was ill all the way, and " saw 
 nothing but a basin." Here they rested two days, 
 enjoying their first glimpse of foreign life and 
 fashion. A peep at Brussels made her wish for 
 more, but the invalid's destination was Schwalbach, 
 where she meant to take the baths, so their journey 
 across country was somewhat hurried. 
 
 Miss Alcott writes in her journal: " On the I2th 
 [of August] began a lovely voyage up the Rhine. 
 It was too beautiful to describe, so I shall not try; 
 but I feel richer and better for that memorable day. 
 We reached Coblentz at sunset, and I was up half 
 the night enjoying the splendid view of the fortress 
 opposite the moonlit river with its bridges of boats, 
 and troops crossing at midnight. 
 
 " A second day, still more charming, took us 
 through the famous parts of the Rhine, and filled 
 my head with pictures that will last all my life." 
 
 There is no telling what this year of travel meant 
 to Louisa, coming as it did when her mind cried 
 out for a change of some sort. Her beauty-loving
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 167 
 
 nature craved something more than quiet Concord 
 and its surroundings, and this progress through the 
 Rhine country, with its legends and folk tales, was 
 the very best tonic for her. 
 
 They passed through a number of queer little vil- 
 lages before reaching Schwalbach, where they rest- 
 ed a month and took the baths, and when the invalid 
 got a little stronger they went to Vevey, of which 
 we hear so much in " Little Women." On the 
 way they stopped at Wiesbaden, then at Frankfort. 
 
 " Here I saw and enjoyed a good deal," she writes. 
 " The statues of Goethe, Schiller, Faust, Gutenberg, 
 and Schaeffer are in the squares. Goethe's house 
 is a tall, plain building, with each story projecting 
 over the lower, and a Dutch roof; a marble slab 
 over the front door recording the date of Goethe's 
 birth. I took a look at it, and wanted to go in, as it 
 was empty, but there was no time. Some Ameri- 
 cans said : ' Who was Goethe to fuss about ? ' ' 
 
 This to Louisa, who as a girl had worshiped 
 him and Emerson ! She was enthusiastic over 
 Heidelberg, and gives us pretty pen pictures of the 
 charming old place, surrounded by mountains. 
 From Heidelberg to Baden-Baden, Freiberg, Basle, 
 and on the way to Berne she caught her first glimpse 
 of the Alps, on her mother's birthday, October 8th. 
 
 " Tall, white, spectral shapes they were, tower- 
 ing above the green hills and valleys that lay be- 
 tween. Clouds half hid them, and the sun glittered 
 on the everlasting snow that lay on their tops. 
 12
 
 !68 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Sharp, strange outlines against the sky they be- 
 came as night came on, and in the morning I had 
 a fine view of the Jungfrau, the Bliimis, the Wetter- 
 horn, and Monch from the terrace at Berne." 
 
 From Berne they went to Freiberg No. 2, a most 
 romantic spot, with its winding river, suspension 
 bridges, steep hills, and watch towers. The next 
 stop was in Lausanne, and finally they reached 
 Vevey, having enjoyed a fine panorama of this 
 wonderful little Switzerland. 
 
 At Vevey there came to Louisa a pleasant expe- 
 rience, something very sweet and beautiful in the 
 way of friendship between a grown woman and a 
 fine young fellow, which she has generously shared 
 with a world of young readers. The boy in ques- 
 tion was named Ladislas Wisniewski " two hic- 
 coughs and a sneeze will give you the name per- 
 fectly," she tells us, but she called him Laddie most 
 of the time, and often Laurie, the name we have 
 grown to love so much in " Little Women." 
 
 He was a young Polish boy who had come to 
 Vevey for his health, a tall, thin lad of eighteen or 
 twenty, with an intelligent face and charming man- 
 ners. Louisa's heart warmed to him at first be- 
 cause he looked delicate. He had come to board 
 in their pension, and the acquaintance began at the 
 breakfast table, by a cough and a shiver. Louisa, 
 full of sympathy, looked up quickly he was sitting 
 directly in a draught while she, on the opposite 
 side of the table, was absolutely roasting by the
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 169 
 
 stove. She spoke to their landlady between meals, 
 and at dinner their places were changed. The 
 young stranger was quick to appreciate the kind- 
 ness, and from that time the friendship grew. He 
 could speak only broken English, but her friendly 
 interest drew him out of his shell, and Louisa, so 
 lately from scenes of war, found that he had been 
 in the late Polish Revolution, had suffered impris- 
 onment and hardship, losing friends, fortune, and 
 health, for his lungs were in a bad state, but he was 
 fighting bravely for life. 
 
 All the pent-up tenderness and romance broke 
 forth in Louisa's affection for this boy. Sternly 
 she had dubbed herself an " old maid " from the 
 mature age of twenty-five to the venerable state of 
 thirty-three years. Yet no woman was ever more 
 ardently beloved by her many boy admirers, and 
 this one in particular was so open in his adoration 
 that Louisa was both proud and touched. Had she 
 been ten years younger and he ten years older, the 
 flavor of romance might have been even stronger ; as 
 it was, she played mother to him, and he called her 
 his " little mamma " and made her his confidante. 
 He asked her to call him " Varjo," as his mother 
 did, and taught her French in return for her lessons 
 in English. He played beautifully on the piano, and 
 many a concert they had in the salon of the pension, 
 He brought her flowers late roses were blooming 
 in Vevey and there was always a bouquet ready 
 for her at dinner.
 
 jyo LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 She celebrated her thirty-third birthday at Vevey, 
 and wrote in her journal : " A. gave me a pretty 
 painting of Chillon, Laclislas promised me the notes 
 of the Polish National Hymn, and played me his 
 sweetest airs as a present, after wishing me ' all 
 good and happiness on earth and a high place in 
 Heaven as my reward.' It was a mild, windy day, 
 very like me in its fitful changes of sunshine and 
 shade. Usually I am sad on my birthday, but not 
 this time; for, though nothing very pleasant hap- 
 pened, I was happy and hopeful, and enjoyed every- 
 thing with unusual relish. I feel rather old with 
 my thirty-three years, but have much to keep me 
 young, and hope I shall not grow older in heart as 
 the time goes on." 
 
 In December she adds : " Laurie very interesting 
 and good. Pleasant walks and talks with him in 
 the chateau garden and about Vevey. A lovely sail 
 on the lake andrtnuch fun giving English and re- 
 ceiving French lessons." 
 
 In the first volume of " Aunt Jo's Scrap Bag " 
 Miss Alcott devotes several pages of " My Boys " 
 to this favorite boy of hers. " Lake Leman," she 
 writes, " will never seem so lovely again as when 
 Laddie and I roamed about its shores, floated on its 
 bosom, or laid splendid plans for the future in the 
 sunny garden of the chateau. I tried it again last 
 year (1871), but the charm was gone, for I missed 
 my boy, with his fun, his music, and the frank, 
 fresh affection he gave his ' little mamma,' as he
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 171 
 
 insisted on calling the lofty spinster, who loved 
 him like half-a-dozen grandmothers rolled into 
 one." 
 
 She kept many mementoes of him some De- 
 cember roses and a pile of merry little notes, which 
 she used to find tucked under her door. Better 
 than all, she has made him live through time, and 
 but that is another chapter. 
 
 Those few delightful weeks in Vevey drew to an 
 end, and the travelers turned their faces to Nice, 
 after an affecting parting from Laddie. Louisa 
 hoped to meet him in Paris in the spring, but it was 
 only a faint hope, for neither of them thought he 
 would live through the winter. When they said 
 " good-by," which they tried to make au revoir, 
 she tells us : " There were tears in my boy's eyes 
 and a choke in the voice that tried to say cheerfully : 
 ' Bon voyage, dear and good little mamma. I do 
 not say adieu, but au revoir.' 
 
 " Then the carriage rolled away, the wistful face 
 vanished, and nothing remained to me but the mem- 
 ory of Laddie and a little stain on my glove where a 
 drop had fallen." 
 
 The stay in Nice is vividly described by Our 
 Foreign Correspondent in " Little Women " even 
 the ball they went to at the pension where they 
 boarded for a while. But they were lonely among 
 so many foreigners from every part of the world, 
 and finally tried housekeeping in an apartment, kept 
 by one Madam Rolande, who for six years had been
 
 172 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 French governess to Queen Victoria's children. 
 Here they were more comfortable; they had a jewel 
 of a French maid and six nice, large rooms. 
 
 There were beautiful drives about Nice and many 
 sights to see. Here also was the lovely Valrosa, a 
 villa in a rose garden, a dear old landmark of " Lit- 
 tle Women." Indeed, Louisa popped the whole of 
 this trip, plump and pat, into volume second. 
 
 But at Nice she decided to start for home in May. 
 Fond as she was of her invalid friend, she longed 
 for a few weeks of absolute freedom, and on the 
 first day of May started off for Paris, as happy as a 
 released prisoner. 
 
 To her great delight, at the station, waving his 
 cap among the crowd, was Laddie, who took 
 charge of her from that time until the day she left 
 for London, and she says in " My Boys " : " Next 
 day began the pleasantest fortnight in all my year 
 of travel. Laddie appeared early, elegant to behold 
 in a new hat and buff gloves, and was immensely 
 amused because the servant informed me that my 
 big son had arrived." 
 
 They went shopping together, even to the milli- 
 ner's Louisa's extravagances always ran to bon- 
 nets where he placed his good French at her dis- 
 posal. He was full of fun and up to all sorts of 
 mischief. For instance, he made her call him ma 
 drogha, saying it meant "my friend" in Polish. 
 He introduced her to several young fellows of his 
 own age, and she used the words before them inno-
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 173 
 
 cently enough ; they flew into such a gale of merri- 
 ment that she inquired the cause, and found that she 
 had been calling her Laddie " my darling " in the 
 most loving manner. Of course, being an old and 
 proper spinster, she turned the color of a peony as 
 she joined in the laugh at her expense. 
 
 There was a very sober side to this boy of hers ; 
 a pathetic and hopeless little love story of two inno- 
 cent hearts parted by stern parents, and this, too, he 
 confided to the " little mamma," who loved him all 
 the more for this shadow. The two weeks went all 
 too quickly, the farewells had to come at last. 
 
 " This time it is for always," said Laddie ; " so, 
 as a parting souvenir, give to me the sweet English 
 good-by." 
 
 " As he said this, with a despairing sort of look, 
 as if he could not spare even so humble a friend as 
 myself, my heart was quite rent within me, and, 
 regardless of several prim English ladies, I drew 
 down his tall head and kissed him tenderly, feeling 
 that in this world there were no more meetings 
 for us. Then I ran away and buried myself in an 
 empty railway carriage, hugging the little cologne 
 bottle he had given me." 
 
 Laddie wrote to her regularly for several years, 
 and later sent his photograph with a few lines, but 
 though she acknowledged it, she did not hear from 
 him for so long that she feared this last and dearest 
 of her boys was dead. She concludes the little story 
 in this way :
 
 I 7 4 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 " It is hardly necessary to add, for the satisfac- 
 tion of inquisitive little women, that Laddie was the 
 original of Laurie, as far as a pale pen-and-ink 
 sketch could embody a living, loving boy." 
 
 She was anxious to get home, and hurried from 
 Paris to London, where she went about a great 
 deal, seeing sights and people, going to theaters, 
 dinner parties, concerts, and receptions; she heard 
 her beloved Dickens read, and received whole- 
 souled English kindness from everyone. 
 
 Early in June, she spent ten days in a real Eng- 
 lish country house, which she greatly enjoyed. On 
 the nth she went to board with a Mrs. Travers in 
 Westbourne Grove Terrace. The household con- 
 sisted of " Mrs. T. and daughter, two sisters from 
 Dublin, and ten young men, barristers, clerks, 
 ministers, and students. . . . Very free and jolly, 
 roaming about London all day, dining late, and 
 resting, chatting, music, or fun in the evening." 
 
 That she saw everything that was to be seen, we 
 learn from the following paragraph : " Saw the 
 Tower, Windsor, parks, gardens, and all manner of 
 haunts of famous men and women ; Milton's house, 
 Johnson's, in Ball Court; Lamb's, Sairy Gamp's, 
 Saracen's Head, the Charter House, where Thack- 
 eray was when a lad; Furnival's Inn, where Dick- 
 ens wrote " Pickwick " ; Bacon's Walk, and endless 
 memorable sights. St. Paul's I liked better than 
 Notre Dame." 
 
 While in London, she saw Routledge about
 
 RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 175 
 
 " Moods " ; he not only took it, but asked for an- 
 other book, much to her delight. Truth to tell, the 
 last two months of her stay abroad was the period 
 she most enjoyed. In the first place, she had no 
 care nor responsibility ; in the second, she was given 
 this freedom through the unselfishness of her 
 mother, who borrowed money for the family sup- 
 port, that Louisa might have enough of her own 
 to finish the year's vacation. This was among the 
 debts that the faithful daughter repaid, and surely 
 this journey, of all others, was the golden key 
 which opened the way. She left for Liverpool and 
 home July /th, and after a stormy voyage of four- 
 teen days reached home at last, glad to be there, 
 glad to see them all, feeling rested and improved in 
 every way. 
 
 The year had wrought many changes among 
 those she loved. She found her mother looking 
 worn and sick and tired, which troubled her greatly ; 
 her father, placid as ever ; Anna, happy in her home, 
 with two cunning boys, and May, radiant and full 
 of plans and hopes. 
 
 In August, she fell to work once more on her 
 stories, for orders in plenty awaited her, and the 
 family coffers were nearly empty. In September, 
 poor Mrs. Alcott broke down completely ; the year's 
 strain had been too much for her. Then Louisa 
 " turned in," nursing by day and writing by night. 
 By November, Mrs. Alcott was slowly mending, and 
 Louisa writes : " I never expect to see the strong,
 
 176 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 energetic ' Marmee ' of old times, but, thank the 
 Lord ! she is still here, though pale and weak, quiet 
 and sad; all her fine hair gone, and face full of 
 wrinkles, bowed back, and every sign of age. Life 
 has been so hard for her, and she so brave, so glad 
 to spend herself for others. Now we must live for 
 her." 
 
 And from that moment Louisa did all her en- 
 ergy, all the best that was in her, bent to the serv- 
 ice. In the long, fruitful years which followed, her 
 dream came true, and " Marmee " had her sunny 
 corner, her easy-chair, and the rest she had earned 
 so nobly.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 "LITTLE WOMEN." 
 
 IHE next year (1867) was spent by 
 Louisa in making up for lost time and 
 getting her " thinking cap " pinned on 
 properly. Fortunately, many people 
 wanted stories, and, as the family treasury was 
 in a bad way, she set to work in earnest. Her time 
 was taken up in caring for her mother, writing her 
 stories, and keeping house. Her writing alone 
 would have kept her busy enough, but her other 
 cares told on her health, and so, after a year of hard 
 labor to pay for the long vacation, she ran off to 
 Clark's Island for a holiday during the month of 
 August. She came back in September, bright and 
 full of her old energy, after a jolly fortnight, and 
 we find this trifling entry in her journal : 
 
 " September, 1867. Niles, partner of Roberts, 
 asked me to write a girls' book. Said I'd try. F. 
 asked me to be the editor of Merry's Museum. Said 
 I'd try. Began at once on both new jobs, but didn't 
 like either." 
 
 It was in this fashion that she treated a proposi- 
 tion which was to hold so much for her in the
 
 I7 8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 future. Of the two jobs, being editor of Merry's 
 Museum meant more to her just then. She was to 
 read manuscripts, write one story each month, also 
 an editorial, for five hundred dollars a year. Quite 
 joyful over the prospect of a settled income, she 
 decided to take a room in Boston for the winter and 
 set up housekeeping for herself. 
 
 " Cannot keep well in Concord," she writes in 
 October, " so must try Boston, and not work too 
 hard." 
 
 " On the 28th rode to B., on my load of furni- 
 ture, with Fred, feeling as if I was going to camp 
 out in a new country; hoped it would prove a hos- 
 pitable, healthy land." 
 
 Those who have read " An Old-Fashioned Girl " 
 will remember that when Polly came to town to 
 teach music, she did very much the same thing. 
 
 " You ought to have seen my triumphal entry 
 into the city," she tells her friend Fanny Shaw, 
 " sitting among my goods and chattels, in a farm- 
 er's cart, ... on my little sofa, with boxes and 
 bundles all around me, a birdcage on one side, a 
 fishing basket, with a kitten's head popping in and 
 out of the hole, on the other side, and jolly old Mr. 
 Brown, in his blue frock, perched on a keg of apples, 
 in front." 
 
 She gives a very lively description of this ride, 
 and the adventures of a certain squash pie, the gift 
 of a neighbor, are faithfully recorded. Louisa was 
 always ready for a " lark," and this novel way of
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN." 179 
 
 moving from Concord to Boston was an idea after 
 her own heart. The furniture received many 
 bumps and scrapes in the jolting wagon; the book 
 shelves tumbled on their heads as they went down 
 one hill, the rocking-chair slid off into the middle of 
 the road as they creaked up another; but it was a 
 jolly trip, and Louisa, who never did things quite 
 like other people, enjoyed the fun immensely. 
 
 Not that she was ever odd, but she was, like 
 Polly, delightfully old-fashioned at times, and even 
 at the sedate age of four-and-thirty could frolic like 
 a girl. She set to work very much as Polly did 
 with her simple housekeeping, and no doubt en- 
 joyed it even more, for Louisa was now a young 
 woman of some position in her world, while Polly, 
 the modest little music-teacher, was quite unknown, 
 save among her few friends. Her simple house- 
 keeping, in her sunny room, was quite as interesting 
 as in Polly's small establishment, and many a happy 
 twilight was spent round her cheerful blaze, while 
 she dispensed tea and buttered toast and made 
 merry with her guests her " hundred or more " 
 cousins who adored her. 
 
 The winter in Boston passed happily, for May 
 had a drawing-class in her room every day, so she 
 was never lonely, and, as she was constantly called 
 upon to act for charity, she had a very good time, 
 for the old passion never quite died out. Dickens 
 was always her delight, and " Mrs. Jarley's Wax 
 Works " her special property. She gave it many
 
 180 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 times in public with much success. She worked 
 faithfully as the editor of Merry's Museum, and 
 sold her short stories as fast as she wrote them. 
 
 " Things look promising," she wrote her mother 
 in January, 1868. " ... I am pretty well, and keep 
 so busy I haven't time to be sick. Everyone is very 
 clever to me, and I often think, as I go larking 
 around, independent, with more work than I can do 
 and half a dozen publishers asking for tales, of the 
 old times when I went meekly from door to door 
 peddling my first poor little stories, and feeling so 
 rich with ten dollars. . . . 
 
 " It's clear that Minerva Moody is getting on, 
 and, by the time she's a used-up old lady of seventy 
 or so, she may finish her job and see her family well 
 off. ... 
 
 " Keep all the money I send ; pay up every bill ; 
 get comforts and enjoy yourselves. Let's be merry 
 while we may, and lay up a bit for a rainy day. 
 
 " With which gem from Aristotle, I am, honored 
 madam, your dutiful and affectionate 
 
 " L. M. ALCOTT. 
 
 " Regards to Plato. Doesn't he want new socks ? 
 Are his clothes getting shiny ? " 
 
 January began most happily ; there was certainly 
 something in the air that breathed of hope. 
 
 " For many years we have not been so comfort- 
 able," she says in her journal. " May and I both 
 earning, Anna with her good John to lean on, and
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN." l8l 
 
 the old people in a cozy home of our own. . . . 
 To-day my first hyacinth bloomed, white and sweet 
 a good omen ; a little flag of truce, perhaps, from 
 the enemies we have been fighting all these years. 
 Perhaps we are to win, after all, and conquer pov- 
 erty, neglect, pain, and debt, and march on, with 
 flags flying, into the new world with the New 
 Year." 
 
 Still no sign of the promised story for girls. 
 After the first trial it was evidently laid away and 
 forgotten in the press of other work and a multi- 
 tude of social duties, both pleasant and profitable. 
 
 " My second hyacinth bloomed pale blue, like a 
 timid hope," she writes on January 24th, " and I 
 took the omen for a good one, as I am getting on, 
 and have more than I can do of the work that I 
 once went begging for. Enjoyed the little spring 
 my little flower made for me, and Buzzy, my pet 
 fly, moved into the sweet mansion from his hanging 
 garden in the ivy pot." 
 
 Her third hyacinth bloomed a beautiful pink on 
 the 1 4th of February, Valentine's Day, and, as flow- 
 ers always spoke to her in a sweet language of their 
 own, she began the saint's day happily in her snug 
 little room. She wrote her stories, made some 
 shirts for her little nephews, and finally went out to 
 buy a squash pie for her supper it seems she had 
 a passion for squash pies. But she was feeling tired 
 and cross when, hugging her pie, she trudged home 
 at dusk. It was snowing and very cold, and the
 
 T 82 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 pie turned a somersault, much to the amusement of 
 a small boy and vliss Alcott herself, whose spirits 
 rose at once. Arriving at home, she found her Val- 
 entine in the shape of a gentleman waiting for her 
 on her doorstep. 
 
 " I took him up my winding stair," writes this 
 ambitious young spider, " and found him a very 
 delightful fly, for he handed me a letter out of 
 which fell a hundred-dollar bill. With this bait, 
 Mr. B. lured me to write * one column of advice to 
 young women.' ... If he had asked me to write a 
 Greek oration, I would have said ' Yes.' So I gave 
 a receipt, and the very elegant agent bowed himself 
 away, leaving my ' 'umble ' bower full of perfume 
 and my soul of peace. ... I planned my article 
 while I ate my dilapidated pie, and then proceeded 
 to write it with the bill before me. It was about 
 old maids. ' Happy Women ' was the title, and I 
 put in my list all the busy, useful, independent spin- 
 sters I know, for liberty is a better husband than 
 love to many of us. This was a nice little episode 
 in my trials of an authoress, so I record it. 
 
 " So the pink hyacinth was a true prophet, and I 
 went to bed a happy millionaire, to dream of flannel 
 petticoats for my blessed Mother, paper for Father, 
 a new dress for May, and sleds for my boys." 
 
 Had Louisa lived among us to-day, she would 
 hardly have called herself an old maid at thirty- 
 five. The athletic young woman of our time has 
 just " got her growth " at that age. But, for all
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN." 183 
 
 her love of boys, romance had never touched her 
 very closely. She loved to see it in others and to 
 write about it. She delighted in her sister's happy 
 marriage, but would have none of it herself, though 
 she played mother to the little lads in her best style, 
 and sister, and even grandmother, to other boys, 
 older still. The " mother feeling " of taking care 
 of people was very strong in her ; she was devotion 
 itself to her sister Anna, whose growing deafness 
 made her somewhat dependent. She writes in her 
 journal : 
 
 " To Nan's in j?. M. to take care of her while the 
 papa and Freddie went to Concord. The dear lit- 
 tle man, so happy and important, with his bit of a 
 bag, six pennies, and a cake for refreshment during 
 the long journey of an hour. We brooded over 
 Johnnie as if he were a heavenly sort of fire to 
 warm and comfort us with his sunny little face and 
 loving ways. She is a happy woman! I sell my 
 children, and, though they feed me, they don't love 
 me as hers do. Little Tranquillity played alone all 
 day, and made a pretty picture sitting in * mar- 
 mar's ' lap in his nightgown, talking through the 
 trumpet to her. She never heard his sweet little 
 voice in any other way. Poor Nan ! " 
 
 So the winter passed and the spring came, and 
 still no girls' book. She had been at home since the 
 end of February, having enjoyed the few months' 
 rest in Boston, and, as usual, was finding it hard to 
 write stories fast enough to please the publishers. 
 13
 
 184 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 In May, she sent her father to see Mr. Niles about 
 a fairy book she proposed writing, but the stern 
 publisher would have none of it. 
 
 " A girls' book," he demanded, " and the sooner 
 it is written the better." 
 
 So, with a helpless shrug of her shoulders, 
 Louisa set to work on " Little Women." 
 
 " Marmee, Anna, and May all approve my plan," 
 she writes. " So I plod away, though I don't enjoy 
 this sort of thing. Never liked girls or knew many, 
 except my sisters; but our queer plays and experi- 
 ences may prove interesting, though I doubt it." 
 
 " Good joke," writes Louisa, on looking over her 
 journal many years later. She started writing in 
 May, and by June had finished a dozen chapters. 
 We can imagine her, as we have seen Jo herself 
 in " Little Women," perched upon a high chair 
 before an old-fashioned desk, with the light from 
 her dormer window streaming full upon her paper, 
 scratching away busily. We all remember the black 
 pinafore and the cap with the rampant red bow. 
 The hours flew by unheeded while Louisa dipped 
 far back into her childhood, and was a child again, 
 with Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. And yet, when she 
 sent these first twelve chapters to Mr. Niles, he 
 called them dull, and she quite agreed with him. 
 
 Think of the first chapter of " Little Women," 
 brimming over with the doings of these four whole- 
 some little girls, being thought dull by these foolish 
 " grown-ups " the publisher and the author ! And
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN." 185 
 
 the next chapter, the Christmas frolic and the 
 " Witch's Curse," in all its dramatic glory, with Jo 
 as the hero and the villain and all the other male 
 parts she could whisk into at a moment's notice, and 
 Meg as the witch, and Beth and Amy playing the 
 smaller parts as best they could this was called 
 dull, too, by these shortsighted people. And all the 
 other simple, wholesome, interesting chapters fare4 
 no better. But, in spite of their misgivings, Louisa 
 decided to keep on and try the experiment, " for 
 lively, simple books are very much needed for girls, 
 and perhaps I can supply the need." 
 
 On July 1 5th, she finished the first volume of 
 " Little Women," never indeed having any notion 
 of writing another part, and she thankfully laid 
 down her pen, for the strain had been great. On 
 the same day she writes in her journal : " Have 
 finished ' Little Women ' and sent it off 402 pages. 
 May is designing some pictures for it. Hope it will 
 go, for I shall probably get nothing for ' Morning 
 Glories.' " 
 
 With the completed manuscript in his hands, Mr. 
 Niles wisely decided not to trust his own judg- 
 ment, and looked around for an abler critic. This 
 he found in a small niece, and he left her curled up 
 in a big armchair, with the closely written pages of 
 " Little Women " in her eager hands. He peeped 
 in every once in a while, but he did not disturb her, 
 for the little girl was absorbed, forgetful of every- 
 thing but the story, sometimes laughing aloud,
 
 186 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 sometimes stopping to brush the tears away, but 
 never lifting her eyes from those fascinating pages 
 until the last was laid down with a sigh of regret. 
 She was an enthusiastic young person, and had 
 nothing but praise for the story. Mr. Niles hesi- 
 tated no longer. In August, Louisa writes : 
 
 "Roberts Brothers made me an offer for the 
 story, but at the same time advised me to keep the 
 copyright; so I shall." 
 
 Nearly twenty years later she adds : " An honest 
 publisher and a lucky author, for the copyright 
 made her fortune, and the ' dull book ' was the first 
 golden egg of the ugly duckling." 
 
 So the book was published, and Louisa jumped 
 at once to the top of Fame's ladder, where she re- 
 mained always in the world of children. No writer 
 before or since her time has bequeathed such a 
 goodly heritage to girls. From the moment we 
 encounter Jo, stretched on the hearth rug, until" 
 we take leave of her under the apple trees at 
 Plumfield, fifteen years later, the light of her busy, 
 useful life sheds happiness on all who read of her. 
 
 What is there, after all, in the book which has 
 held so many generations of readers under a magic 
 spell? It is but a simple story of simple girls, 
 bound by a beautiful tie of family love, that neither 
 poverty, sorrow nor death could sever. Four little 
 pilgrims, struggling onward and upward through 
 all the difficulties that beset them on their way ; that 
 is all just the story of their lives their daily
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN." 187 
 
 struggles, their joys, and their sorrows; but what 
 girl among the millions who have pored over the 
 book could read of them unmoved? How many 
 ambitions have been spurred on by Jo's struggles 
 and difficulties and by Amy's artistic efforts ! How 
 many little " Crickets on the Hearth " have 
 chirped the sweeter for dear little Beth's sunny in- 
 fluence! How many homes have been made the 
 happier by the " Meggs " who have graced them! 
 And they were not always turtle doves, like the 
 good little story-book children. Jo and Amy, the 
 two high tempers of the family, had many a 
 squabble, and "Little Women " records probably 
 the most serious quarrel of their young lives in the 
 chapter where " Jo Meets Apollyon." 
 
 One little girl clearly remembers her feelings 
 over that dreadful affair, and, though she is grown 
 now, the problem of twenty years ago still con- 
 fronts her. Who was the greater sinner Amy, for 
 destroying her sister's book, or Jo, for not warning 
 Amy that the ice on the river was thin? "Never 
 let the sun go down upon your anger," said Mrs. 
 March, as they went to bed the night of the quar- 
 rel, yet rebellious Jo could not forgive. For years 
 this same little girl took this wholesome advice as 
 her guiding star for her own unruly spirit. 
 
 Louisa was not prepared for the storm of ap- 
 plause her book called forth. Tucked away in her 
 modest corner of Concord, she looked on in wonder 
 as edition after edition was printed to supply the
 
 1 88 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 demand, and the hitherto empty coffers of the Al- 
 cott family began to " swell wisibly," as her favor- 
 ite Sam Weller might have said. Great excitement 
 reigned among the children, who regarded the au- 
 thor of " Little Women " as their own special prop- 
 erty. Though written for girls, there was enough 
 boy material to suit everyone, and it was soon very 
 plain that the mere suggestion of a love story at- 
 tracted the youngsters more than any other part of 
 the book. They demanded a sequel. They wanted 
 to go to Meg's wedding, to see Jo and Beth and 
 Amy grow up, with lovers of their own ; to see 
 Jo, in particular, married to their favorite Laurie; 
 but here the much-enduring author balked. She 
 wrote in her journal on October 30, 1868: 
 
 " Mr. Niles wants a second volume for spring. 
 Pleasant notices and letters arrive, and much inter- 
 est in my ' little women,' who seem to find friends 
 by their truth to life, as I hoped. 
 
 " November ist. Began the second part of ' Lit- 
 tle Women.' I can do a chapter a day, and in a 
 month I mean to be done. A little success is so 
 inspiring that I now find my Marches sober, nice 
 people, and, as I can launch into the future, my 
 fancy has more play. Girls write to ask who the lit- 
 tle women marry, as if that was the only end and 
 aim of a woman's life. I won't marry Jo to Lau- 
 rie to please anyone." 
 
 Louisa always turned thorny over the " lover- 
 ing " parts, but as the children clamored for a
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN." 189 
 
 proper pairing-off of the March girls, she was 
 forced to give in, and the result was an interweav- 
 ing of wholesome romance into this fine story of 
 home life. There was a touch of sympathetic fin- 
 gers about the heartstrings of these little women, 
 but in spite of tears and entreaties, Jo turned a deaf 
 ear to poor Laurie's wooing. 
 
 Imploring letters poured in upon her, and the 
 children were heartbroken; in some instances they 
 were made ill by grief and excitement, until at last 
 Miss Alcott was forced to find some kind of a lover 
 for her Jo, whom she had destined to be a jolly old 
 maid. So Professor Bhacr came upon the scene, 
 and soon won his way into the warm regard of the 
 young readers. We like him better, perhaps in 
 " Little Men " and " Jo's Boys," where there is not 
 such a striking contrast between the polished Lau- 
 rie and the gruff though kindly German. The chil- 
 dren were mollified if not wholly satisfied, and 
 the author thereafter was left in peace on that 
 subject. But she was no longer a private person, 
 for every girl who had read her book claimed her 
 friendship. 
 
 Her thirty-sixth birthday she spent alone, writing 
 hard; she was in a vortex, stopping neither to eat 
 nor to sleep, and being in Boston at that time, there 
 were no interruptions. In December, she went back 
 to Concord to shut up the house for the winter. 
 " A cold, hard, dirty time," she writes, " but was 
 so glad to be out of Concord that I worked like a
 
 I 9 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 beaver, and turned the key on Apple Slump with 
 joy." 
 
 She was worried about her mother, whose 
 health was breaking, and she thought a winter with 
 Anna and the boys, sturdy lads of six and four, 
 would benefit her greatly. " I feel as if the de- 
 cline had begun for her," she says, " and each year 
 will add to the change which is going on, as time 
 alters the energetic, enthusiastic home mother into 
 a gentle, feeble old woman, to be cherished and 
 helped down the long hill she has climbed so 
 bravely with her many burdens." 
 
 Louisa and May took a sky-parlor at the Belle- 
 vue Hotel, where they " had a queer time whisking 
 up and down in the elevator, eating in a marble 
 cafe, and sleeping on a sofa bed, that we might be 
 genteel. It did not suit me at all. A great gale 
 nearly blew the roof off, steam pipes exploded, and 
 we were hungry. I was very tired with my hard 
 summer, with no rest for the brains that earn the 
 money." 
 
 Poor Louisa ! She never spared herself ; indeed, 
 engrossed in her work, she forgot that she had a 
 bundle of nerves, and a head but too prone to ache 
 over the slightest exertion. So they came down 
 .from their " sky parlor " and went to quiet Chaun- 
 cey Street. On January i, 1869, Louisa sent the 
 second volume of "Little Women" out into the 
 world, a wide, wide world, as it proved, for the 
 book has been translated into French, German and
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN." 191 
 
 Dutch. In Holland, the first part was called 
 " Under the Mother's Wings," and the second, " On 
 Their Own Wings." 
 
 In March, they went back to Concord, for the old 
 people were restless out of the home nest; Louisa 
 was very tired and more ailing than she dared to 
 say. Too much lay upon her shoulders, and she 
 could not help feeling that if she fell ill the family 
 would go to pieces, so she would often keep up and 
 write her stories in spite of " headaches, cough, and 
 weariness." She was glad enough sometimes when 
 the real pain gave her an excuse for resting, for her 
 mind was easy in spite of physical woes, and when 
 she could not write, she could at least " think over 
 her blessings and be grateful," for " Little Women " 
 paid the last debts of the family and Louisa's 
 dreams were coming true. Each month, e^ach 
 week, the demand for " Little Women " increased, 
 until she began to accept, as a matter of course, the 
 large checks her publishers were constantly send- 
 ing her. 
 
 She wrote to them, December 28, 1869, from 
 Boston : 
 
 " Many thanks for the check which made my 
 Christmas an unusually merry one. 
 
 " After toiling so many years along the uphill 
 road always a hard one to women writers it is 
 peculiarly grateful to me to find the way growing 
 easier at last, with pleasant little surprises blossom-
 
 I 9 2- LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 ing on either side, and the rough places made 
 smooth by the courtesy and kindness of those who 
 have proved themselves friends as well as pub- 
 lishers. 
 
 " With best wishes for the coming year, 
 " I am, yours truly, 
 
 " L. M. ALCOTT." 
 
 Indeed, this earnest young pilgrim, who had car- 
 ried so many burdens and was so very, very tired, 
 began to see her goal in the distance. Surely for 
 some good end they had played at " Pilgrim's 
 Progress " in their childhood, had read their little 
 books and had profited by their wisdom; and what 
 more fitting sermon could Louisa preach to her 
 unknown thousands of young friends than that 
 which she has put into the preface of her book, 
 adapted from John Bunyan himself? 
 
 Go then, my little Book, and show to all 
 That entertain, and bid thee welcome shall, 
 What thou dost keep close shut up in thy breast; 
 And wish what thou dost show them may be blest 
 To them for good, may make them choose to be 
 Pilgrims better, by far, than thee or me. 
 Tell them of Mercy; she is one 
 Who early hath her pilgrimage begun. 
 Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize 
 The world which is to come, and so be wise; 
 For little tripping maids may follow God 
 Along the ways which saintly feet have trod.
 
 "LITTLE WOMEN." 193 
 
 Surely no book has gone forth with a simpler 
 purpose, and just because " Little Women " is not 
 " preachy " it has found its way to the hearts of its 
 readers. Honest little girls, striving to be good 
 and carry their burdens cheerily, have prized it 
 through generations ; it has given them a better grip 
 on the small things of life, which count so much for 
 true happiness; but brightest of all the gems the 
 book contains is the radiance of mother-love which 
 shines through it. 
 
 The March girls loved their mother, made her 
 their confidante, and turned to her through every 
 trial of their lives; she was companion and friend 
 as well as teacher and guide, and many a girl, and 
 many a mother, has learned a lesson from the beau- 
 tiful example these " Little Women " have set them. 
 
 Louisa Alcott wrote many bright and wholesome 
 stories after her " luck child " had found her a cor- 
 ner in the world of fame, but " Little Women " 
 conies first on the shelf, and in the hearts of her 
 admirers.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 " WHO'S WHO." 
 
 HE chief charm of Miss Alcott's stories 
 is the " real life " in them. Many au- 
 thors write of things that are true, but 
 not all are so happy in bringing the 
 vivid pictures before our minds. All the " little 
 women " are very human and very lovable, for 
 Louisa drew portraits of her sisters and herself, with 
 a magic art, true to life, rich in color. 
 
 Anna, with her sweet nature, her talent for act- 
 ing, her little home graces and dainty ways, makes 
 a charming Meg, whose romance with John Brooke 
 closes the first volume with the far-off chime of 
 wedding-bells. Beth, the gentle household spirit, 
 with her love of music, her sweet influence, will 
 never die to the readers of " Little Women." 
 Dear as she was to the turbulent Jo, she was far 
 more to Louisa, who mingled the memory of her 
 in many of her tales. And golden-haired Amy 
 perhaps lived longer than all, for the artistic tal- 
 ent was no stretch of sisterly imagination. The 
 seed which sprouted in Amy's school-days bore its 
 194
 
 "WHO'S WHO." 195 
 
 fruit in May Alcott's exquisite work in later years, 
 and the loving pen which drew the self-willed, some- 
 what selfish little girl with such faithful strokes 
 showed later on the graceful charming woman into 
 which she had bloomed. Miss Alcott had many 
 golden-haired heroines in her stories. Amy March 
 is an acknowledged portrait of her sister, and pos- 
 sibly the author of " The Eight Cousins " drew the 
 portrait of Rose from the same source. The best 
 and truest biography of Mrs. Alcott, Louisa has set 
 forth tenderly in the character of Marmee. 
 
 " A stout, motherly lady with a ' can-I-help-you ' 
 look about her, which was truly delightful. She 
 was not a particularly handsome person, but 
 mothers are always lovely to their children, and 
 the girls thought the gray cloak and unfashion- 
 able bonnet covered the most splendid woman in 
 the world." 
 
 This is our introduction to our " little women's " 
 Marmee, and further on : " The first sound in the 
 morning was her voice as she went about the house, 
 singing like a lark; and the last sound at night was 
 the same cheery sound, for the girls never grew 
 too old for that familiar lullaby." 
 
 The book is full of her loving, living presence, 
 this Marmee whom Louisa shared so generously 
 with a world of girls. Mrs. March, she tells us, 
 " is all true, only not half good enough," but she 
 did not know the power of her pen and how each 
 stroke enhanced the beauty of the picture. This
 
 I9 6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 first volume tells us little of Mr. March, though in 
 the second part we catch many sweet glimpses of 
 Louisa's " dear Plato." Mr. Laurence she created 
 from the memory of her grandfather, Colonel Jo- 
 seph May, and the irascible old Aunt March was 
 really the only character in the book not taken from 
 a living original. There is scarcely an experience 
 or adventure of the four sisters which is not true 
 to life. All of Jo's literary endeavors and Amy's 
 artistic flights were real happenings in the Alcott 
 family. In the choice of names, too, Miss Alcott 
 was very clever. May being a family name and 
 the name of a month, March suggested itself as 
 being equally appropriate for these " story-book " 
 girls. 
 
 Meg was a made name for Anna, though Louisa 
 often called her " Peggy " ; but Jo had been a nick- 
 name for boyish Louisa during her girlhood, and 
 certainly fits the tall, overgrown girl in " Little 
 Women " to a " T." Beth' s dear little name stands 
 just as it was in life, and Amy is merely a trans- 
 posing of letters in the name of her youngest sis- 
 ter, suggesting, too, " Abby," which was a favorite 
 name with her friends. 
 
 But the chapters that really please us most are 
 those that deal with the " Laurence Boy." About 
 one million two hundred and fifty thousand, nine 
 hundred and ninety-nine girl-readers, from ten to 
 fifteen years of age, have been in love with Lau- 
 rie during the last forty years, and probably as
 
 "WHO'S WHO." 197 
 
 many more faithful " loveresses " will rise up and 
 adore him in the years to come. But for Laurie, 
 indeed, it is doubtful if Miss Alcott herself could 
 have written the book, and as she made him live, 
 not only in " Little Women " but in " Little Men " 
 and " Jo's Boys " as well, it may prove interesting 
 to discover out of what material she fashioned this 
 very best boy of her very best book. 
 
 There is no doubt that her Polish boy, Ladislas, 
 suggested the idea of Laurie, a nickname by 
 which she often called him in the pleasant days at 
 Vevey. The dark foreign face, the love of music, 
 the impulsive, affectionate disposition, were all finely 
 drawn features of this living portrait. Miss Alcott 
 says : " Laurie is not an American boy, though every 
 lad I ever knew claims the character. He was a 
 Polish boy I met abroad in 1865." 
 
 True, as far as it goes, yet in spite of this asser- 
 tion, there has always been a question as to who 
 this very real Laurie really was, and in a series 
 of letters written to Alfred Whitman by Miss Al- 
 cott, covering a correspondence of eleven years, 
 from 1858-69, we have still more evidence to 
 prove that the original of Laurie was a divided 
 honor. 
 
 In the fall of 1857, Alfred Whitman, a lonely, 
 flaxen-haired boy, came to Concord to attend Mr. 
 Sanborn's school. He lived in the home of the 
 Minof; Pratts and became very intimate with John 
 Pratt and Carrie, his only sister. John took him
 
 198 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 to call upon the Alcotts, just before Beth's 
 death. 
 
 " In the little house near the Town Hall, . . ." 
 writes Alfred Whitman himself, " began the ac- 
 quaintance which was to bring to John Pratt a lov- 
 ing and devoted wife and to the writer a life-long 
 friendship with the Alcotts and the Pratts. So 
 close was the friendship and so hearty and genuine 
 the way in which I was taken into companionship 
 by these gifted people, that it never occurred to me 
 that all, with the exception of Abby, were at least 
 ten years older than myself, and though I was born 
 and had lived all my days in Massachusetts, the last 
 year of my life in that State seems to have in- 
 cluded almost all that was permanent in my mem- 
 ory of it, and Concord the only place I think of as 
 home, though I lived there not quite a year." 
 
 Alfred Whitman became a member of the Con- 
 cord Dramatic Union, organized by Mr. Sanborn, 
 with the three Alcott girls, George B. Bartlett and 
 his brothers, Ripley and Ned; Edward and Edith 
 Emerson, and others, as members. The vestry- 
 room of the Unitarian Church was used as a class- 
 room by Mr. Sanborn, and here they erected their 
 stage and acted their dramas. 
 
 Alfred Whitman was a shy boy of about fifteen 
 when Louisa first met him ; he was a blue-eyed, yel- 
 low-haired laddie, very much in coloring like her 
 sister May, which attracted her at once, for she ad- 
 mired that type immensely. He was a reserved fel-
 
 "WHO'S WHO." 199 
 
 low, somewhat sad and serious at times, but Louisa 
 found him out at last, thanks to Dickens. The 
 Concord Dramatic Union gave a series of plays and 
 dramatized scenes from his writings, most of them 
 Louisa's clever work, and she and Alfred Whitman 
 did some good acting together. She tells us about 
 him in " My Boys," the first story of " Aunt Jo's 
 Scrap-Bag." 
 
 " My special boy of the batch was A., proud and 
 cold and shy to other people, sad and serious some- 
 times, when his good heart and tender conscience 
 showed him his shortcomings, but so grateful for 
 sympathy and a kind word. . . . 
 
 " We played Dolphus and Sophy Tetfrrby in 
 ' The Haunted Man,' at one of the school festivals ; 
 and during the rehearsals I discovered that my 
 Dolphus was permit the expression, oh, well-bred 
 readers a trump! What fun we had to be sure, 
 acting the droll and pathetic scenes together, with a 
 swarm of little Tetterbys skirmishing about us. 
 From that time he has been my Dolphus and I his 
 Sophy, and my yellow-haired laddie doesn't forget 
 me though he was a younger Sophy now, and some 
 small Tetterbys of his own." 
 
 In November, 1858, Alfred Whitman left Con- 
 cord for his new home in Kansas, and from that 
 time kept up a vigorous correspondence with the 
 Alcott family. The letters of Louisa, he writes, 
 " were the most inspiring, and it is because I feel 
 that they illustrate a phase of her character that 
 14
 
 200 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 has not been shown to the public as it should have 
 been, that I have consented to their publication." 
 Brave, bright, and hopeful are the letters which 
 cover this period, all the sweetest and most at- 
 tractive side of Louisa's nature shone forth 
 in her intercourse with boys, and this boy, 
 in particular, enjoyed the privilege of her warm 
 affection. 
 
 But the closing letter of the series is the 
 " clincher " which shows beyond all shadow of a 
 doubt that Alfred Whitman was as much the orig- 
 inal of Laurie as the ever-fascinating Polish Ladis- 
 las. It was written immediately after she had placed 
 Part Second of " Little Women " in her publisher's 
 hands. 
 
 Mr. F. B. Sanborn, Miss Alcott's life-long friend, 
 introduces the letter with this brief foreword : 
 
 " As for Miss Alcott's statement that Laurie 
 was wholly Ladislas, that must have been to escape 
 annoying hints and questions, for it was obvious 
 from the first that the Polish lad could not have 
 sat for the distinctly American traits in that com- 
 posite and glorious human boy. Concord people 
 have always felt that the Polish boy was not the 
 sole original, and they have tried to guess who 
 the other person really was. This letter solves the 
 mystery, for written when the book was fresh, it 
 tells the evident truth. 
 
 " F. B. SANBORN."
 
 "WHO'S WHO." 201 
 
 And here is the letter : 
 
 "BOSTON, January 6, 1869. 
 " DEAR ALF : 
 
 " I have planned to write you dozens of times, 
 but work prevented; but now I really will, though 
 piles of MSS. lie waiting for my editorial eye. 
 Don't you ever think old Sophy forgets her Dol- 
 phus! Why, bless your heart, I put you into my 
 story as one of the best and dearest lads I ever 
 knew! Laurie is you and my Polish boy jointly. 
 You are the sober half, and my Ladislas (whom I 
 met abroad) the gay, whirligig half; he was a per- 
 fect dear. 
 
 " All my little girl friends are madly in love with 
 Laurie and insist on a sequel, so I have written 
 one which will make you laugh, especially the pair- 
 ing-off part. But I didn't know how to settle my 
 family any other way. I wanted to disappoint the 
 young gossips, who vowed that Laurie and I 
 should marry. Authors take dreadful liberties, but 
 you will not mind being a happy spouse and a 
 proud papa, will you? 
 
 ". . . If anything in those old times does you 
 good and makes the memory sweet, I am truly glad, 
 for it gives an added charm to home, to go halves 
 in it with some one who hasn't got any, and I 
 should very much like to find another Alf to fill the 
 empty place there, if that was possible. 
 
 " I'm fond of boys, as you may have discovered ; 
 I always want one somewhere handy, so, as you say
 
 202 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 you haven't grown up (which is a great comfort 
 to me), I wish you'd come East and be our Alf 
 again, if Mrs. Mary doesn't object. 
 
 " Good-by, my dear boy, write to me and you 
 shall truly get an answer from, 
 
 " Your ever loving old 
 
 " SOPHY." 
 
 There is a picture of this fair-haired boy, a hand- 
 some, thoughtful, most attractive face he had; but 
 Louisa's Laurie was painted with Ladislas's color- 
 ing, dark hair and eyes, with a dreamy expression 
 and a musical soul, that certainly did not belong to 
 the New England boy, while the broad shoulders, 
 athletic, well-knit figure, the prowess in boating, 
 skating, horseback riding, and all active games were 
 not attributes of the delicate Polish boy, as Louisa 
 knew him. 
 
 Alfred Whitman's most intimate friend in Con- 
 cord was John Pratt, who, though many years 
 older, took a real brotherly interest in the lad. In 
 their intercourse with the Alcott family, they were 
 always together, so in " Little Women " Louisa had 
 brought out the friendship between Laurie and John 
 Brooke, who was a faithful likeness of her brother- 
 in-law. Indeed, in the first volume, the New Eng- 
 land boy takes the lead, save in flashes of mischief, 
 which Miss Alcott tells us belonged to Ladislas. 
 
 In the second volume, there is a delightful mix- 
 ture of the romantic young foreigner, and the mis-
 
 "WHO'S WHO." 203 
 
 chievous undergraduate in the " grown-up Laurie " 
 as we see him first after the lapse of three years. 
 His passion for Jo is very American, and he bore 
 his defeat with true New England fortitude; but 
 from the time he decided to go abroad and forget 
 this hard-hearted young person, the New England 
 part of him vanished. Every disappointed girl re- 
 members that parting how he embraced them all, 
 and ran downstairs as if for his life. 
 
 " Jo followed a minute after to wave her hand to 
 him if he looked round. He did look round, came 
 back, put his arms about her as she stood on the step 
 above him, and looked up at her, with a face that 
 made his short appeal both eloquent and pathetic. 
 
 " ' Oh, Jo, can't you? ' 
 
 " ' Teddy, dear, I wish I could ! ' 
 
 " That was all, except a little pause ; then Laurie 
 straightened himself up, said : ' It's all right, never 
 mind ' and went away without another word. Ah, 
 but it wasn't all right, and Jo did mind; for while 
 the curly head lay on her arm a minute after her 
 hard answer, she felt as if she had stabbed her dear- 
 est friend ; and when he left her without a look be- 
 hind him, she knew that the boy Laurie would never 
 come again." 
 
 That was her last glimpse of Laddie, when they 
 parted in Paris and he asked for the " sweet English 
 good-by." From, that time we see most of Ladislas, 
 until in the last chapter, under the apple trees at 
 Plumfield, the New England part of him appears
 
 204 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 again in " the happy spouse and the proud papa " 
 with his little golden-haired girl in his arms, and 
 his handsome, golden-haired wife close by. 
 
 A most lovable " glorious human boy," the nicest 
 boy that ever shone as the hero of a girl's book, and 
 " true " straight through, every inch of him ! 
 
 Every enthusiastic reader claimed a " favorite " 
 chapter, and Miss Alcott was deluged with letters 
 from every quarter; honest and full of admiration 
 they were, and save for the fact that they came in 
 shoals, she would have liked to answer each one ; but 
 as that could not be, she contented herself with pick- 
 ing a few pretty buds of friendship from among 
 these flowery epistles. 
 
 We are indebted to Mr. Bok, of the Ladies' Home 
 Journal, for a charming glimpse of Miss Alcott's 
 association with girls, for, after writing " Little 
 Women," she had to tuck her pet boys in one corner 
 of her heart, and open another corner to the thou- 
 sands of girls who knocked for admittance. A 
 special bunch of " little women " from Pennsyl- 
 vania, five in number and sisters, were much inter- 
 ested in the Pickwick Portfolio and resolved to fol- 
 low the March girls' example, and print a little 
 paper of their own. Their father bought them type 
 and a printing press, and " in a short time the first 
 issue of Little Things appeared, edited by Carrie, 
 Maggie, Nellie, Emma, and Helen Lukens, the eld- 
 est of whom was barely seventeen." They sent a 
 copy, of course, to Miss Alcott, who was not only
 
 "WHO'S WHO." 205 
 
 delighted with the appearance of the little paper, but 
 with the pluck and energy of the editors, and soon 
 began to take a personal interest in the girls, which 
 lasted through the rest of her life. Their friendship 
 began and ended in letters, for they never met. But 
 " Little Women " drew them close together to begin 
 with ; the girls' letters were well written and clever ; 
 Louisa's were reproductions of herself, original, 
 witty, sensible and helpful, full of friendly advice 
 about themselves and their paper. 
 
 Her first letter to them, dated Concord, August 
 3, 1872, begins: 
 
 " MY DEAR LITTLE WOMEN : 
 
 " I will certainly answer your pleasant letter and 
 very gladly subscribe to your paper, although it has 
 not yet arrived. My two ' little men ' at once de- 
 manded it and were much impressed with the idea 
 of girls having a printing press and getting out a 
 ' truly paper.' I admire your pluck and persever- 
 ance, and heartily believe in women's right to any 
 branch of labor for which they prove their fitness. 
 Work is such a beautiful and helpful thing, and in- 
 dependence so delightful, that I wonder there are 
 any lazy people in the world. I hope you preach 
 that doctrine in your paper, not in the rampant 
 Woman's Rights fashion, but by showing how much 
 women can do, even in attending skillfully to the 
 ' little things ' that have such an influence on home 
 life, and through it, upon the world outside."
 
 206 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 She closes by saying : " Please present my re- 
 spects to the wise father of the five happy girls, and 
 with best wishes for the success of the paper, be- 
 lieve me very sincerely your friend and fellow- 
 worker, 
 
 " LOUISA M. ALCOTT." 
 
 Proud girls they were with such a letter, and 
 there were many more to come. " Dear Girls " she 
 wrote them in her next letter, then " Dear Sisters," 
 and, finally, she called them by name, with a cer- 
 tain boyish friendliness which was part of Louisa, 
 for she liked these girls, with their frank manner 
 of asking questions and criticising her books. In 
 one letter she sent, by request, a photograph of her- 
 self, and, after seeing a reprint of it, one need 
 scarcely wonder that these girls and the friends to 
 whom they showed it were disappointed. She 
 writes in a postscript she was very fond of post- 
 scripts : 
 
 " I send you the last photograph I have not very 
 good, but you can't make a Venus out of a tired old 
 lady." 
 
 Now, considering this " old lady " was but forty 
 at the time of writing, the girls might reasonably 
 have expected something less settled. The spinster 
 of forty these days does not take to shawls and 
 middle-aged adornments. Louisa's glorious chest- 
 nut hair, fine eyes and complexion, and beautiful 
 nose deserved better treatment. Nowadays we do
 
 'WHO'S WHO." 207 
 
 not go by rule in dress; we are more apt to consult 
 the becoming, and if the prevailing style makes us 
 look younger, so much the better. But in Louisa's 
 time there were unwritten laws concerning dress; 
 there was a style for each period. Ladies of forty or 
 more wore shawls, and downright honest Louisa 
 draped one over her shoulders, thereby upsetting 
 all popular ideas of boyish Jo. 
 
 " I sympathize with your friends on seeing my 
 picture," she writes in another letter [they were 
 honest enough to speak their minds], " for I re- 
 member I was so upset when I saw Fredericka 
 Bremer, whose books I loved, that my sister Nan 
 and I went into a closet and cried, though we were 
 great girls of sixteen and eighteen." 
 
 The five young editors sent her their photo- 
 graphs, and she wrote them an enthusiastic letter of 
 thanks. 
 
 " DEAR SISTERS : 
 
 " I waited till the five were all here before I sent 
 my thanks. They make a very pretty little ' land- 
 scape,' as Jo used to say, all in a group on my table, 
 and I am glad to show such a posy of bright, enter- 
 prising girls. Long may they wave ! My Marmee, 
 though very feeble now, was much pleased at your 
 message, and said, in her motherly way, as she 
 looked at the five faces : 
 
 " ' Little dears, I wish I could see 'em all and do 
 something for 'em.'
 
 20 8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 " Perhaps some of these summers we may see a 
 band of pilgrims coming up to our door, and then 
 the three old March girls and the five young L 
 ditto will sit in a bunch and spin yarns. Play 
 we do." 
 
 Evidently the girls had literary ambition, and 
 sought her advice, which she freely gave them. 
 
 " Of one thing let me, an old scribbler, warn 
 you," she goes on. " Don't write with steel pens, 
 or you will have what is called ' writer's cramp ' 
 and lose the use of your thumb, as I have. I have 
 to wabble around with two fingers, while my absurd 
 thumb is folded under and no good for pen work, 
 though all right for other things. Look at my wild 
 scribbles and use cork penholders or gold pens, and 
 don't write fourteen hours at a stretch, as I used 
 to do." 
 
 Think of a writer now, dependent on steel pens 
 and a bottle of ink! Had Louisa in the early days 
 of her career used a typewriter and a fountain pen, 
 there is no telling how many more delightful books 
 would have fallen to our share and how much less 
 the worn-out nerves and the aching head would 
 have had to tax them. 
 
 " I am glad," she continues, " there is ironing 
 and preserving to rest the busy brains with good, 
 wholesome work. I believe in it so heartily that 
 I sweep my eight rooms twice a week, iron and 
 scrub around for health's sake, as I have found it 
 better medicine than any doctor ever gave me."
 
 "WHO'S WHO." 209 
 
 Energetic Louisa carried her " medicine " almost 
 too far at times. The hospital strain had not daunt- 
 ed her soul, but it had certainly weakened her body, 
 and rest, as she found out later, was what she 
 needed above all. Of course, she added a postscript 
 a most interesting one : 
 
 " You may like to know that my Polish boy, 
 Laddie (or Laurie), has turned up in New York, 
 alive and well, with a wife and ' two little daugh- 
 ters,' as he says in his funny English. He is com- 
 ing to see me, and I expect to find my romantic 
 boy a stout papa the glory all gone. Isn't it sad? 
 
 " As I can't give or lend you the dear old original, 
 I send you a picture of Marmee, taken some ten or 
 fifteen years ago. She is much changed now, wears 
 caps and is old and broken sadly." 
 
 In another letter she says : 
 
 " Why people will think Jo small, when she is 
 described as tall, I can't see; and why insist that 
 she must be young, when she is said to be thirty at 
 the end of the book ? " 
 
 Concerning Jo, Miss Alcott and her reading pub- 
 lic were always squabbling; the truthful author- 
 ess must cast no glamour of romance around her, 
 while enthusiastic readers built castles in the air, 
 which everyday Jo refused to inhabit. Indeed, to 
 Louisa herself, the March girls had become real 
 people, and she talked about them quite as inti- 
 mately as she discussed her own family affairs, and 
 the correspondence with these other " little women "
 
 210 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 made them seem even more real. So we see what 
 this one simple little story has done for the world 
 of girls, but we can never know what it did for 
 Louisa herself. 
 
 Unwillingly she had turned out of her way into 
 this new path, never dreaming she would find her 
 goal at the end of this little country road, and she 
 was rewarded by having flowers spring up around 
 her, sweeter and lovelier than any she had yet 
 gathered. She herself looked on in wonder, as, one 
 by one, her dearest hopes were gratified ; she had 
 only to put forth her hand and it was filled with 
 gold, which she scattered broadcast for the good of 
 others. She began to love the girls for whom she 
 wrote, she studied them, she had much to say to 
 them, for they had brought her luck. She never 
 forsook her boys, but when fair young faces beamed 
 upon her, and girlish hearts took her in, and girlish 
 hands stretched out to her, who could hold back? 
 Surely not Louisa! She embraced them all in her 
 wholesome, hearty way ; they became her dear " lit- 
 tle sisters," and she worked for them all the rest of 
 her life.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " SHAWL STRAPS." 
 
 |HILE the world rang with the praises of 
 " Little Women," Louisa, ill and tired, 
 found that being a celebrated person 
 was just a bit annoying. 
 
 " People begin to come and stare at the Alcotts," 
 she writes in her journal. " Reporters haunt the 
 place to look at the authoress, who dodges into the 
 woods a la Hawthorne, and won't be even a very 
 small lion." 
 
 But it was pleasant to rest and take breath after 
 the long uphill struggle, and the winter of 1869 
 was happily spent in Boston, doing very little liter- 
 ary work beyond revising " Hospital Sketches," to 
 which she added six " Camp and Fireside Stories." 
 These she handed over to Roberts Brothers, and 
 they were republished with great success. Money 
 now came in so plentifully that she was able to put 
 by small sums for investment, besides making her 
 beloved family " cozy and comfortable." 
 
 The early summer months she stayed in Concord, 
 but she was never well there, and the long hot days 
 were very trying to her. Her health demanded a
 
 212 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 change, so she spent the month of July with her 
 cousins, the Frothinghams, in Canada. They had 
 a house at Riviere du Loup, " a little village on the 
 St. Lawrence, full of queer people. Drove, read, 
 and walked with the little ones. A pleasant, quiet, 
 time." 
 
 "August. A month with May at Mt. Desert. 
 A gay time and a little rest and pleasure before the 
 old pain and worry began again. Made up a 
 thousand dollars for S. E. S. to invest. Now I 
 have twelve hundred for a rainy day and no debts. 
 With that thought I can bear neuralgia gayly." 
 
 Indeed, pain was now Louisa's unfailing guest. 
 
 In the autumn they all went to Boston. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Alcott to stay with Anna, while Louisa and 
 May had pleasant rooms not far away. At this 
 time, Mrs. Cheney tells us, that Louisa " not being 
 well enough to do much new work, began using up 
 her old stories, and found the ' little women ' helped 
 their rejected sisters to good places, where once 
 they went a-begging." As the winter came upon 
 them she grew more and more ailing, and when in 
 February she finished " The Old-Fashioned Girl," 
 she was quite used up. 
 
 " I wrote it with left hand in a sling, one foot up, 
 head aching, and no voice. Yet as the book is 
 funny, people will say ' Didn't you enjoy doing it? ' 
 I often think of poor Tom Hood as I scribble rather 
 than lie and groan. I certainly earn my living by 
 the sweat of my brow."
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 213 
 
 But she soon began to realize the penalties of 
 greatness ; the public besieged her, not only did the 
 children, for whom she wrote, clamor for " more 
 stories, more, right away," but even their elders 
 began to act foolishly. Poor Louisa, who loved the 
 big world, found the strangers who " demanded to 
 look at her, question, advise, warn, congratulate " 
 most tiresome, impertinent beings. With no claim 
 upon her, they would invade her privacy and drive 
 her to distraction. She bore this very quietly in the 
 early days of her fame, but in " Jo's Boys," the last 
 of the " Little Women " series, in the chapter called 
 "Jo's Last Scrape," she speaks her mind, after 
 years of torment. 
 
 Taken as a whole, this clever chapter is a com- 
 plete and spirited autobiography of Louisa, at the 
 time of the launching of " Little Women," and, to 
 be properly appreciated, should be read aloud by 
 some one whose sense of humor is as keen as hers 
 was. She says of herself: 
 
 " Things always went by contraries with Jo. Her 
 first book, labored over for years, . . . foundered 
 on its voyage. . . . The hastily written story, sent 
 away with no thought beyond the few dollars it 
 might bring, sailed with a fair wind and a wise 
 pilot at the helm straight into public favor, and came 
 home heavily laden with an unexpected cargo of 
 gold and glory. 
 
 " She did her best for the children, . . . feeling 
 that she owed a good deal to the little friends in
 
 2i 4 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 whose sight she had found favor after twenty years 
 of effort. 
 
 " But a time came when her patience gave out ; 
 and wearying of being a lion, she became a bear in 
 nature as in name, and retiring to her jien, growled 
 awfully when ordered out" 
 
 It was certainly very funny, but no less annoying, 
 for all that. If the demand for autographs and 
 photographs had been the only grievance, she might 
 have borne it calmly, but " when a series of enthu- 
 siastic boarding schools had ravaged her grounds 
 for trophies, and a steady stream of amiable pilgrims 
 had worn her doorsteps with their respectful feet: 
 when servants left after a week's trial of the bell 
 that rang all day," then did Louisa begin seriously 
 to think of flight. Not anywhere in America could 
 she hide herself she was known far and w r ide. 
 Even her father, whose true worth and talents had 
 never before been appreciated, was now welcomed 
 everywhere with open arms, as the " Grandfather of 
 ' Little Women.' " The ocean must roll between 
 her and her too ardent admirers. She was abso- 
 lutely not strong enough to stand her popularity. 
 Perhaps the following poem from an unknown gen- 
 ius hastened her decision. Such absurdity always 
 roused her wrath. 
 
 In " Jo's Boys " it was dedicated to J. M. B., 
 and with the exception of the last verse, which 
 she altered for the use of her story, is a true 
 offering.
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 215 
 
 " Oh, were I a heliotrope 
 
 I would play poet, 
 And blow a breeze of fragrance 
 To you; and none should know it. 
 
 " Your form like the stately elm, 
 
 When Phoebus gilds the morning ray, 
 Your cheek like the ocean bed 
 That blooms a rose in May. 
 
 " Your words are wise and bright, 
 
 I bequeath them to you a legacy given, 
 And when your spirit takes its flight, 
 May it bloom a flower in Heaven. 
 
 " My tongue in flattering language spoke, 
 
 And sweeter silence never broke, 
 In busiest street or loneliest glen. 
 I take you with the flashes of my pen, 
 
 " Consider the lilies, how they grow; 
 
 They toil not, yet are fair 
 Gems and flowers and Solomon's seal. 
 The geranium of the world is J. M. Bhaer. 
 
 " JAMES." 
 
 Any more such poems would have made Louisa 
 feel like endowing an asylum for lunatics, and so 
 she ran for her life to the other side of the world. 
 
 May was invited by a friend to go abroad, on 
 condition that Louisa would be of the party. For 
 a long time she hesitated ; she was not well and the 
 
 15
 
 2i6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 undertaking looked enormous. But her sister was 
 wild to go, and the two younger women were really 
 dependent on an older head and wiser judgment; 
 besides, Louisa had been abroad before and knew 
 something of foreign travel, so after much hesitation 
 she " gave in." 
 
 Their minds made up, it did not take the trio 
 long to get ready, and on the first of April, " fit 
 day for my undertaking" she says in her journal, 
 " May and I went to New York to meet Alice Bart- 
 lett with John for escort. Everyone very kind, 
 thirty gifts, a parting ball among our housemates, 
 and a great cake. Half a dozen devoted beings at 
 the station to see us off. But I remember only 
 Father and Mother, as they went away the day be- 
 fore, leaving the two ambitious daughters to sail 
 away, perhaps forever. Mother kept up bravely 
 and nodded and smiled ; but at the corner I saw the 
 white handkerchief go up to the eyes, after being 
 gayly waved to us. May and I broke down and 
 said : ' We won't go/ but next day we set forth as 
 young birds will, and left the nest empty for a year. 
 
 " Sailed on the 2d in a gale of wind, in the 
 French steamer Lafayette for Brest. Our adven- 
 tures are told in ' Shawl Straps.' ' Old-Fashioned 
 Girl ' came out in March and sold well. Train-boy 
 going to New York put it into my lap, and when 
 I said I didn't care for it, exclaimed with surprise : 
 * Bully book, ma'am. Sell a lot ; better have it.' 
 
 " John told him I wrote it ; and his chuckle, stare,
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 217 
 
 and astonished ' No ! ' was great fun. On the 
 steamer little girls had it, and came in a party to 
 call on me, very seasick in my berth, done up like a 
 mummy." 
 
 It did not need " Little Women's " popularity 
 alone to sell " An Old-Fashioned Girl." Nowhere 
 could one find a more charming heroine in girldom 
 than this sweet, simple, pretty, old-fashioned Polly. 
 We all love her and sympathize with the many trials 
 and tests which did their part in the making of a 
 lovely young woman. 
 
 Polly is what might be called a composite photo- 
 graph, that is to say, Miss Alcott took the best traits 
 of all the best girls she knew, and smoothed them 
 out and polished them up, and set them to music in 
 the soul of this little country girl. Not that Polly 
 was perfect, for then she would have been an im- 
 possible little prig; but she was very human and 
 very real, and the boy Tom, with his freckled face 
 and red hair, full of mischief, but sound at the 
 kernel, was a real boy, too, a boy after Louisa's own 
 heart. 
 
 She brings the country mouse to the city, but one 
 can see at a glance that Polly came from Concord, 
 and the simple teaching of a certain wise mother 
 found its way into the heart of Boston. Louisa al- 
 ways despised the hollowness and shams of what 
 was called " good society," and that pretty, honest 
 Polly was able to see the best side of it is a great 
 satisfaction to the girl readers. The same little
 
 2i8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Pollys can be found to-day who existed forty years 
 ago ; indeed, time gives only an added touch of color 
 to Miss Alcott's boys and girls. So well she loved 
 them, so thoroughly she knew them, that we have 
 them with us always as real, as truly living as in 
 the past. Leaving this golden egg behind her, the 
 " ugly duckling," as Louisa laughingly called her- 
 self, sailed away with the proud air of a swan. 
 
 This trip to Europe was many strides ahead of 
 the other. In 1865, Louisa, w r orn-out by a long 
 illness, and anxious for a change she could ill afford, 
 took advantage of an opportunity and went over as 
 the companion of an invalid. In 1870, still in 
 search of health, she crossed again, but think what 
 a difference ! Here she was, a woman of independ- 
 ent means, able to go where she liked and do what 
 she pleased, having left all safe and comfortable at 
 home. Besides this, she was one of a very lively 
 trio, and though in " Shawl Straps " she persistently 
 described herself, under the name of Lavinia, as an 
 old lady, she was only thirty-seven when they set 
 out. 
 
 She has left us many pleasant memories of her 
 year's travel, delightful letters and jottings in her 
 journal, and the little book, " Shawl Straps," which 
 is a graphic account of their tour through France. 
 It came out first serially in the Christian Union at 
 the request of her friend, Mrs. Harriet Beecher 
 Stowe. Afterwards it was published by Roberts 
 Brothers as the second volume of " Aunt Jo's Scrap-
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 219 
 
 Bag," and makes interesting- reading for any boy or 
 girl who wishes to know something of the countries 
 through which they flitted. 
 
 They had a jolly time aboard ship in spite of sea- 
 sickness and ceaseless pitching, for they were driv- 
 ing in the very teeth of a gale. Their friend she 
 named Amanda in "Shawl Straps"; May she 
 dubbed Matilda, and these maidens played prom- 
 inent and funny parts all through their adventures. 
 
 Such a year as that was ! Such glimpses of inter- 
 esting countries ! Amanda was their stand-by, for 
 she could speak French, and from the time they 
 landed in Brest until they reached English-speaking 
 London, they depended on her entirely. 
 
 Louisa divided " Shawl Straps " into six parts. 
 The first was naturally called " Off "; then followed 
 "Brittany," "France," "Italy," "Switzerland," 
 and " London." They spent the spring and summer 
 in Brittany. Landing at Brest, they went by train 
 to Morlaix, their first stopping place, and as Louisa 
 tells us in " Shawl Straps," " through a green and 
 blooming country so unlike the New England spring 
 they had left behind that they rejoiced like butter- 
 flies in the sunshine." 
 
 They drove to Dinan, some fourteen miles, " in a 
 ramshackle carriage, drawn by three fierce little 
 horses, with their tails done up in braided chignons, 
 and driven by a humpback." Here their adventures 
 began, for these three young women, who had come 
 to enjoy themselves, found much to laugh at among
 
 220 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 their companions, from the sleepy old priest who 
 smoked his pipe the whole way, to the big tipsy 
 Frenchman, who paid violent attention to poor 
 abashed Amanda, and informed her in a burst of 
 confidence that he was " obliged to drink much ale, 
 because it went to his head and gave him commercial 
 ideas." 
 
 They found Dinan a charming spot, where they 
 stayed, resting and frolicking, from April I7th to 
 the middle of June. The walks and drives were 
 picturesque, the views from the pretty house where 
 they stopped were entrancing, " for the windows," 
 Louisa writes in one of her home letters, " overlook 
 a lovely green valley, full of gardens, blooming 
 plum and peach trees, windmills, and a ruined castle, 
 at sight of which we all skipped. Madame Coste 
 received us with rapture. . . . We were in great 
 luck, for, being early in the season, she had three 
 rooms left, and we nabbed them at once a salon, 
 with old oak walls and wardrobes, a fireplace, funny 
 windows, and quaint blue damask furniture. A lit- 
 tle room out of it for A., and upstairs a large room 
 for May and me, with two beds draped in green 
 chintz, and a carved big wardrobe, and so forth, 
 and best of all, a sunny window toward the valley. 
 For these rooms and our board we each pay one 
 dollar a day and I call that cheap. It would be 
 worth that to get the fun and air alone, for it is 
 like June, and we sit about with open windows, 
 flowers in the fields, and birds singing."
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 221 
 
 Their fellow-boarders were most amusing, and 
 as soon as they began to stammer in French they 
 got along very well. The simple inhabitants were 
 great fun to them, and Louisa noticed with much 
 interest that it was the women who did all the hard 
 work. 
 
 " They not only kept house, reared children, and 
 knit every imaginable garment the human frame 
 can wear, but kept the shops and the markets, tilled 
 the gardens, cleaned the streets, and bought and 
 sold cattle, leaving the men free to enjoy the only 
 pursuits they seemed inclined to follow breaking 
 horses, mending roads, and getting drunk. ... It 
 took two deliberate men nearly a week to split the 
 gnarled logs [wood for Madame Coste], and one 
 brisk woman carried them into the cellar and piled 
 them neatly. The men stopped about once an hour 
 to smoke, drink cider, or rest. The woman worked 
 steadily from morning till night, only pausing at 
 noon for a bit of bread and the soup good Coste 
 sent out to her. . . . This same capable lady used 
 to come to market with a baby on one arm, a basket 
 of fruit on the other, leading a pig, driving a don- 
 key, and surrounded by sheep, while her head bore 
 a pannier of vegetables, and her hands spun busily 
 with a distaff. How she ever got on with these 
 trifling encumbrances was a mystery; but there she 
 was, busy, placid and smiling, in the midst of the 
 crowd, and at night went home with her shopping, 
 well content."
 
 222 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 During those early weeks Louisa rested, while 
 the others did the exploring and had funny adven- 
 tures; but presently the mild air, the out-of-door 
 life, and beyond all, the calm and quiet of this beau- 
 tiful foreign country, where no one knew she was 
 an authoress, and many had never even heard of 
 " Little Women " all these happy conditions made 
 her feel like a new person, and she was soon able to 
 join in the fun with all her old-time energy. The 
 simple peasant life in the little Breton villages gave 
 her much pleasure, and the three spent some happy 
 days wandering at will, over the lovely surround- 
 ings. There were many things to attract them ; 
 beautiful woods full of alluring paths, ruined castles, 
 quaint churches and chapels all choice bits for 
 May's artistic appetite to feed upon, while Louisa 
 enjoyed studying these new scenes and new people. 
 
 The donkeys of Dinan interested her quite as 
 much as the people, and in " Shawl Straps " she 
 gives us a humorous description of their adventures 
 with these small animals. When they took don- 
 key drives she tells us : " The cavalcade on such oc- 
 casions was an imposing spectacle. Matilda, being 
 fond of horses, likewise affected donkeys (or 
 thought she did till she tried to drive one) and usu- 
 ally went first in a small vehicle drawn by an ani- 
 mal who looked about the size of a mouse, when 
 the stately Mat, in full array, yellow parasol, long 
 whip, camp stool and sketchbook, sat bolt upright 
 on her perch, driving in the most approved manner.
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 223 
 
 The small beast, after much whipping, would break 
 into a trot, and go pattering over the hard white 
 road, with his long ears wagging, and his tiny hoofs 
 raising a great dust for the benefit of the other 
 turn-out just behind. 
 
 " In a double chair sat Lavinia, bundled up as 
 usual, and the amiable Amanda, both flushed with 
 constant pokings and thrashings of their steed. A 
 venerable ass, so like an old whity-brown hair trunk 
 as to his body, and Nick Bottom's mask as to his 
 head, that he was a constant source of mirth to the 
 ladies. Mild and venerable as he looked, however, 
 he was a most incorrigible beast, and it took two 
 immortal souls, and four arms, to get the ancient 
 donkey along. . . . Matilda got on better, for 
 little Bernard du Guesclin, as she named her mouse, 
 was so very small that she could take him up and 
 turn him round bodily when other means failed, or 
 pull him half into the chair if danger threatened in 
 front. He was a sprightly little fellow, and had 
 not yet lost all the ardor of youth, or developed the 
 fiendish obstinacy of his kind; so he frequently ran 
 little races, now and then pranced, and was not 
 quite dead to the emotion of gratitude for bits of 
 bread. 
 
 " Truly, yes ; the fair Mat, with her five feet 
 seven inches, and little Bernard, whose longest ear 
 when most erect did not reach much above her waist, 
 were a sweet pair of friends, and caused her mates 
 great amusement.
 
 224 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 " ' I must have some one to play with, for I can't 
 improve my mind all the time, as Mandy does, or 
 cuddle and doze like Livy. I've had experience 
 with young donkeys of all sorts, and I give you my 
 word little Bernie is much better fun than some I've 
 known with shorter ears and fewer legs.' 
 
 " Thus Matilda, regardless of the jeers of her 
 friends when they proposed having the small beast 
 into the salon to beguile the tedium of a rainy day." 
 
 Louisa's home letters from Dinan are all very 
 delightful, usually to the family, for she was not 
 well enough yet to do regular correspondence. In 
 a postscript to a letter dated May 30, 1870, she 
 writes : 
 
 " No news except through Niles, who yesterday 
 sent me a nice letter with July account of $6212, a 
 neat little sum for ' the Alcotts, who can't make 
 money!' With $10,000 well invested, and more 
 coming in all the time, I think we may venture to 
 enjoy ourselves, after the hard times we have all 
 had. The cream of the joke is that we made our 
 own money ourselves, and no one gave us a blessed 
 penny." 
 
 Brittany was so entrancing that they would have 
 loved to stay longer in this happy spot; but they 
 had limited themselves to a year of travel, and two 
 months was all they could spare of their precious 
 time. It was a pretty journey through the Breton 
 country, with its wealth of summer foliage and 
 flowers. They went from Dinan to Geneva, skim-
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 225 
 
 ming through France on the way, stopping at St. 
 Malo, Le Mans, Tours, Amboise, and Blois, Or- 
 leans, Nevers and Antrim. 
 
 At Tours they halted for several days, finding it 
 a most interesting spot, especially the cathedral. 
 
 " May has done the church for you," writes 
 Louisa to her father ; " and I send the photograph 
 to give some idea of it. The inside is very 
 beautiful; and we go at sunset to see the red light 
 make the gray walls lovely outside, and the shadows 
 steal from chapel to chapel inside, filling the great 
 church with what is really 'a dim, religious 
 gloom.' " 
 
 At Amboise they saw the castle where Charles 
 VIII was born, and the terrace where the poor 
 Huguenots were strung up, while the gay court 
 looked on and enjoyed the sight; also the little, low 
 door, where Anne of Brittany's first husband, this 
 very Charles VIII, " bumped his head " and killed 
 himself, as he was running through to play bowls 
 with his wife. It was in this same castle that Mar- 
 garet of Anjou and her son were reconciled to War- 
 wick during the War of the Roses. 
 
 At Blois they found a castle full of historic inter- 
 est, and records of the dark deeds of the terrible 
 Catherine de Medici and her weak son, Henry III. 
 
 They stopped in Orleans for a day to get some 
 relics of Jeanne D'Arc, and saw the famous statue 
 of the Maid, put up in gratitude by the people of 
 the city she saved.
 
 226 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Their resting-place was Geneva. " We are at 
 the Metropole Hotel," Louisa writes, " right on the 
 Lake, with a glimpse of Mont Blanc from our win- 
 dows." 
 
 They were detained in Switzerland by the Franco- 
 Prussian War, which interfered with their letters 
 home and made traveling rather hard. In July, 
 1870, she wrote to Anna : 
 
 " The war along the Rhine is sending troops of 
 travelers to Switzerland for refuge ; and all the large 
 towns are brimful of people flying from Germany. 
 It won't trouble us, for we have done France, and 
 don't mean to do Germany. So when August is 
 over, we shall trot forward to Italy and find a warm 
 place for our winter quarters. At any time, twenty- 
 four hours carries us over the Simplon, so we sit 
 at ease, and don't care a straw for old France and 
 Prussia. Russia, it is reported, has joined in the 
 fight, but Italy and England are not going to med- 
 dle, so we can fly to either ' in case of fire.' " 
 
 This last quoted sentence, Mrs. Cheney tells us, 
 was " a family joke, as Mrs. Alcott always ended 
 her instructions to her children ' in case of fire.' " 
 It was, indeed, the same motherly forethought which 
 prompted Mrs. March to call out of the window, 
 as Meg and Jo went to the party : " Girls girls 
 have you clean pocket-handkerchiefs ? " And many 
 of Mrs. Alcott's quaint sayings have reappeared in 
 one after the other of her daughter's stories. 
 
 Dickens's death occurred while they were at Bex,
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 227 
 
 and Louisa mourned most sincerely, though she says 
 truthfully : " I shall miss my old Charlie, but he is 
 not the old idol he once was." It was about this 
 time that Mr. Higginson and a little girl friend 
 put together the " Operatic Tragedy " in " Little 
 Women," and set the songs to music for Our 
 Young Folks, and Miss Alcott herself, even in her 
 security beyond the seas, began to be besieged by 
 eager magazines and papers for contributions. 
 Poor Louisa was in despair. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Niles," she wrote her faithful pub- 
 lisher, " I keep receiving requests from editors to 
 write for their papers and magazines. I am truly 
 grateful, but having come abroad for rest, I am not 
 inclined to try the treadmill till my year's vacation 
 is over; so to appease these worthy gentlemen and 
 excuse my seeming idleness, I send you a trifle in 
 rhyme, which you can (if you think it worth the 
 trouble) set going, as a general answer to every- 
 body." 
 
 The clever poem of thirty-one verses is too long 
 to quote fully, but some of it may prove most amus- 
 ing. Louisa called her jingle indeed it was little 
 more, 
 
 THE LAY OF A GOLDEN GOOSE. 
 
 Long ago in a poultry yard, 
 
 One dull November morn, 
 Beneath a motherly soft wing, 
 
 A little goose was born.
 
 228 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Who straightway peeped out of the shell 
 To view the world beyond, 
 
 Longing at once to sally forth, 
 And paddle in the pond. 
 
 "Oh! be not rash," her father said, 
 
 A mild Socratic bird; 
 Her mother begged her not to stray, 
 
 With many a warning word. 
 
 But little goosey was perverse 
 
 And eagerly did cry, 
 "I've got a lovely pair of wings 
 
 Of course I ought to fly." 
 
 In vain parental cacklings, 
 In vain the cold sky's frown, 
 
 Ambitious goosey tried to soar, 
 But always tumbled down. 
 
 Hard times she had, as one may guess, 
 
 That young aspiring bird, 
 Who still from every fall arose, 
 
 Saddened but undeterred. 
 
 But something stronger than herself, 
 Would cry, "Go on go on! 
 
 Remember, though an humble fowl, 
 You're cousin to a swan." 
 
 So up and down poor goosey went, 
 
 A busy hopeful bird, 
 Searched many wide, unfruitful fields, 
 
 And many waters stirred.
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 229 
 
 At length she came unto a stream, 
 
 Most fertile of all Niks, 
 Where tuneful birds might soar and sing 
 
 Among the leafy isles. 
 
 Here did she build a little nest, 
 
 Beside the waters still, 
 Where the parent goose could rest, 
 
 Unvexed by any bill. 
 
 And here she paused to smooth her plumes, 
 
 Ruffled by many plagues, 
 When suddenly arose the cry, 
 
 "This goose lays golden eggs!" 
 
 Miss Alcott devotes several verses to the excite- 
 ment in the poultry-yard after this discovery. All 
 the proud and haughty fowls begin to take notice 
 of the poor, despised goose, a.nd would have kept her 
 laying new eggs all the time. 
 
 But best of all the little fowls, 
 
 Still playing on the shore, 
 Soft downy chicks and goslings gay, 
 
 Chirped out "Dear goose, lay more." 
 
 But goosey, all these weary years, 
 
 Had toiled like any ant, 
 And wearied out she now replied, 
 
 "My little dears, I can't."
 
 230 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 So to escape too many friends 
 Without uncivil strife, 
 
 She ran to the Atlantic pond, 
 And paddled for her life. 
 
 But still across the briny deep, 
 
 Couched in most friendly words, 
 Came prayers for letters, tales or verse, 
 
 From literary birds. 
 
 Whereat the renovated fowl, 
 
 With grateful thanks profuse, 
 Took from her wing a quill, and wrote 
 
 This Lay of a Golden Goose. 
 
 This was written at Bex, and later the three 
 travelers went to Vevey, a spot so full of memories 
 to Louisa; the days when she rowed on the lake, 
 walked, or drove about with her gallant Polish boy, 
 all came vividly back to her. She had lost sight of 
 him for a while. She did not even know then, as 
 she did later, that he was still alive, and there were 
 times when she wandered sadly about their old 
 haunts; for Louisa despite her eight-and-thirty 
 winters, was as romantic as a girl about her many 
 friendships. 
 
 They stayed at Vevey until September, then they 
 took a wonderful journey through the heart of the 
 Alps into Italy. " Crossing the Simplon alone was 
 an experience worth having," she writes to her 
 mother, and she goes on with a brilliant description
 
 "SHAWL STRAPS." 231 
 
 of the gorges, the snow-capped mountain peaks ris- 
 ing about them, all bathed in the moonlight. In 
 the early part of November, refreshed by a summer 
 so full of rest and beauty, the travelers found them- 
 selves in Rome. May immediately planned her 
 winter's work. They secured a pleasant apartment 
 of six rooms, for a moderate price, and set up house- 
 keeping with a maid, intending to be very happy and 
 comfortable for the next few months. The trip had 
 thus far been a success. Louisa had gone away a 
 nervous invalid; in Rome she hardly knew herself, 
 her strength had come slowly back to her, and she 
 was beginning to think seriously of more literary 
 work. Then, with a sudden shock, came the news 
 of the death of John Pratt, and Louisa realized to 
 the full what a void the absence of this well-beloved 
 brother would make in their lives. 
 
 This blow turned her thoughts toward home, but 
 they took shape in writing, for the widowed sister 
 and the fatherless nephews must never be allowed a 
 moment's want. So her grief, as usual, found solace 
 in the work she loved, and the result was a book 
 that has lived for many generations in the hearts of 
 boys and girls. But " Little Men " needs a chapter 
 of its own. 
 
 16
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE BIRTH OF " LITTLE MEN." 
 
 | HE death of John Pratt was the second 
 great sorrow in Louisa's life. The serene 
 and quiet nature of the man had won its 
 place and held it in the warm hearts of 
 the Alcott family, and they mourned for him as for 
 one of their very own. He had been close to them 
 in their first trial ; his gentle hands had helped to 
 carry Beth to her last resting place; his strong arm, 
 had been something for Anna to lean upon when it 
 all had seemed so hard to bear, and his love had 
 been like the warmth of the sun. His sudden death 
 left them stunned, but Anna was the true daughter 
 of a philosopher ; she gathered her two precious lit- 
 tle boys close to her heart, saying: " I will live for 
 them, and make them happy." She smiled bravely 
 through her tears, and made her grief a sacred 
 memory, which stayed with her always. 
 
 John Pratt was a living presence in his household, 
 and Louisa has drawn such a fine portrait of him 
 that he will not be forgotten by others. " Now 
 that John is dead," she writes in her journal, " I 
 can truly say we all had cause to bless the day he 
 232
 
 THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 233 
 
 came into the family, for we gained a son and 
 brother, and Anna, the best husband ever known. 
 For ten years he made her home a little heaven of 
 love and peace; and when he died, he left her the 
 legacy of a beautiful life, and an honest name to his 
 little sons." 
 
 John Brooke is known and loved by every reader 
 of "Little Women," and his memory is revered 
 and honored by every reader of " Little Men," for 
 Louisa wrote the book far away in Rome, with her 
 heart full of this new grief. She says in her journal 
 of 1871 : 
 
 " Began to write a new book ' Little Men,' that 
 John's death may not leave Anna and the dear little 
 boys in want. John took care that they should 
 have enough while the boys are young, and worked 
 very hard to have a little sum to leave, without a 
 debt anywhere. 
 
 " In writing and thinking of the little lads to 
 whom I must be a father now, I found comfort for 
 my sorrow." 
 
 In " Little Men " she has given us a chapter to 
 the memory of this dearly loved brother, a beautiful 
 chapter, which has been better than a sermon to 
 many boys. It is here that Miss Alcott's great gift 
 lies, she wrote of what lay closest to her heart. That 
 which interested her keenly as a girl, she knew 
 would interest other girls, and so the intimate fam- 
 ily life of the Alcotts, all the trials and the strug- 
 gles, all the joys, the sorrows, the successes and
 
 234 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 disappointments, were frankly told, that other 
 struggling girls might take courage and go for- 
 ward. Their varied experiences, often humorous, 
 sometimes pathetic, were given without reserve, 
 and told in such a way that others might profit by 
 them. So in the character of John Brooke she has 
 paid rich tribute to John Pratt. 
 
 Speaking of his death, Mr. Bhaer tells the boys 
 at Plumfield : " He was ill only a few hours, and 
 died as he had lived, so cheerfully, so peacefully, 
 that it seems a sin to mar the beauty of it with any 
 violent or selfish grief." 
 
 There is a touching description of the simple 
 funeral : 
 
 " The little house looked as quiet, sunny, and 
 homelike as when Meg entered it a bride, ten years 
 ago, only then it was early summer, and roses 
 bloomed everywhere ; now it was early autumn, and 
 dead leaves rustled softly down, leaving the 
 branches bare. The bride was a widow now; but 
 the same beautiful serenity shone in her face, and 
 the sweet resignation of a truly pious soul made her 
 presence a consolation to those who came to com- 
 fort her. 
 
 ". . . One would have said that modest John 
 Brooke, in his busy, quiet, humble life, had had little 
 time to make friends ; but now they seemed to start 
 up everywhere; old and young, rich and poor, high 
 and low ; for, all unconsciously, his influence had 
 made itself widely felt, his virtues were remem-
 
 THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 235 
 
 bered, and his hidden charities rose up to bless 
 him." 
 
 Afterwards, when the Plumfield lads were talk- 
 ing of the dead man, Jack, the commercial one, said : 
 
 " He wasn't rich, was he? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " He never did anything to make a stir in the 
 world, did he?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " He was only good ? " 
 
 " That's all. ..." 
 
 " Only good. That is all, and everything," said 
 Mr. Bhaer, who had overheard the last few words, 
 and guessed what was going on in the minds of the 
 lads. 
 
 And then Louisa put into the mouth of her Pro- 
 fessor all the love and admiration so beautiful a 
 life had called forth. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " simple, genuine goodness is 
 the best capital to found the business of this life 
 upon. It lasts when fame and money fail, and is 
 the only riches we can take out of this world with 
 us. Remember that, my boys, and if you want to 
 earn respect and confidence and love, follow in the 
 footsteps of John Brooke." 
 
 Just as Mr. Bhaer impressed the little men at 
 Plumfield, so the little men all over the world have 
 taken the lesson to heart, for Louisa Alcott preached 
 her sermons from the portals of her own home, 
 which she flung wide that all might enter.
 
 236 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Truly " Little Men " was a labor of love. She 
 dedicated the book to her nephews : 
 
 To 
 
 FREDDY AND JOHNNY, 
 
 The Little Men 
 
 To whom she owes some of the best 
 and happiest hours of her life. 
 This book is gratefully dedicated 
 By their loving 
 
 " AUNT WEEDY." 
 
 They are big men now, with families of their 
 own, but the simple dedication no doubt is of more 
 value to them than the finest poem. 
 
 The chapter about John Brooke is the only sad 
 and sober part of " Little Men." There is always a 
 streak of earnestness underlying even the pranks 
 and plays at Plumfield, but from the time poor 
 ragged Nat entered the hospitable gates, we begin 
 to feel the breeziness and fun, that contact with 
 boys always brought out in Louisa herself. 
 
 We meet a great many old friends at the Bhaer's 
 school. First and foremost, Jo, a grown-up, moth- 
 erly Jo, with still the spirit of a boy behind the 
 " bib and tucker," a jolly, lovable, tender, whole- 
 some Jo, living her girlhood over in the lives of the 
 boys and girls about her. There's the dear old 
 Professor, too, for whom, in spite of our disappoint-
 
 THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 237 
 
 ment over Laurie, we begin to have a warm affec- 
 tion, and his two nephews, Franz and Emit. 
 
 Daisy and Demi have walked out of babyhood 
 into the Plumfield school, and their characters stand 
 forth well-defined, for Miss Alcott was at her best 
 when she had a living subject of her canvas. The 
 little twins are really her two nephews, and are true 
 portraits, as she tells us herself. Uncle Laurie and 
 Aunt Amy are the fairy god-parents, whose coming 
 is always hailed with delight, and little Goldilocks 
 we have also met before, while in the background 
 Aunt Meg, old Mr. Laurence, and Mr. and Mrs. 
 March awake fond recollections of " Little Wom- 
 en." Even Nursey Hummel is a memory, and takes 
 us back to that Christmas day when the March girls 
 gave up their breakfast to the poor, starving 
 German family. 
 
 There are many new faces, foremost among them 
 Tommy Bangs, Naughty Nan, and Dan, the wild 
 young colt of a boy, with a spirit easily tamed by 
 love and kindness. There are little dashes of truth 
 in all these characters. Naughty Nan was Louisa 
 herself in her romping little girlhood, and many of 
 her pranks could be traced back to the very heart 
 of the Alcott family. Tommy Bangs was a dozen 
 of her pet boys rolled into one; but Dan was the 
 sort of boy who touched her most. Sullen, rough, 
 hard to manage, but with a streak of gold beneath 
 all the grime of the streets, where his early life 
 had been spent.
 
 238 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Miss Alcott loved this Dan, and in " Jo's Boys," 
 the last long story she gave us, we find a grown-up 
 Dan, a big, lonely, pathetic figure to the very end 
 where he dies for his chosen people. 
 
 Because she was interested, the writing of " Lit- 
 tle Men " went quickly. Indeed, her best work was 
 always done " in a vortex," as she expressed it, and 
 before she had left Rome the story was safe in 
 America, in the hands of her publishers. The trav- 
 eling party finished their tour as they had planned. 
 Louisa enjoyed Rome in her own way, while May 
 went on with her art studies, learning, as she her- 
 self expressed it, " how little she knew, and how to 
 go on." 
 
 We find this entry in her journal : " Rome great 
 inundation. Streets flooded, churches with four feet 
 of water in them, and queer times for those who 
 were in the overflowed quarters. Meals hoisted up 
 at the window, people carried across the river-like 
 streets to make calls; and all manner of funny 
 doings. We were high and dry at Piazza Barbarini 
 [the name of their home] and enjoyed the flurry. 
 
 " To the capital often to spend the A.M. with the 
 Roman emperors and other great men. Marcus 
 Aurelius as a boy was fine; Cicero looked very like 
 Wendell Phillips; Agrippina in her chair was 
 charming; but the other ladies, with hair a la 
 sponge were ugly; Nero & Co., a set of brutes 
 and bad men. But a better sight to me was the 
 crowd of poor people going to get the bread and
 
 THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 239 
 
 money sent by the king; and the splendid snow- 
 covered hills were finer than the marble beauty in- 
 side. Art tires, Nature never." 
 
 In the early days of struggle and poverty, poor 
 Louisa had to pull down her castles in the air, story 
 by story ; now, with money coming in from a dozen 
 different sources, she found she could enlarge her 
 plans, and as she had just received the goodly sum 
 of seven hundred dollars from " Moods," and was 
 expecting many thousands from the sale of " Little 
 Men," she decided to leave May abroad for another 
 year, free from care, and able to devote herself to 
 her beloved art. 
 
 So they picked up their belongings and spent the 
 month of March at Albano, a lovely spot, where 
 Louisa could walk and write and rest, and enjoy 
 the adventures of the two girls, which she describes 
 in " Shawl Straps " in her own quaint way. 
 
 They had attracted the attention of some romantic 
 looking cavalry officers, and Louisa, greatly amused, 
 was forced, nevertheless, to play the stern chape- 
 ron. As Lavinia, she takes the elderly tone of 
 the stern chaperon. 
 
 " I'm going to Venice next week," she says, " so 
 you may as well make up your minds to it, girls. 
 ... I should never dare to go home and say that 
 Mat had run away with a man as handsome as Jove 
 and as poor as Job. Amanda's indignant relatives 
 would rise up and stone me if I let her canter into 
 matrimony with the fascinating Colonel. . . . They
 
 240 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 must be torn away at once, or my character as 
 duenna is lost forever." 
 
 In April, they enjoyed two ideal weeks " floating 
 about " in Venice, and May found them in London, 
 where they took pleasant lodgings and went sight- 
 seeing. Their friend and traveling companion sailed 
 for America on the eleventh, and Miss Alcott de- 
 cided to go on the twenty-fifth, as she was needed 
 at home. " Little Men " was published in London 
 before she left. 
 
 Altogether the year of travel had been successful 
 and pleasant. Louisa had enjoyed the freedom from 
 small cares and the delightful society in which they 
 found themselves, for the author of " Little Wom- 
 en " had a warm welcome everywhere. The two 
 younger girls were made much of and petted, and 
 May's talent brought her into close association with 
 the foremost painters and sculptors of the day. 
 John Ruskin was much interested in her copies of 
 the great Turner masterpieces, and warmly praised 
 her color and style. 
 
 But in spite of all these attractions, Louisa's 
 health was much the same; pain haunted her days, 
 sleeplessness troubled her nights; her naturally 
 lively disposition and hopeful spirit kept her going, 
 and perhaps it was as well that she could forget her 
 aches in the distraction of new scenes. She had a 
 most unpleasant voyage home. Smallpox broke 
 out on board, and her cabin companion was struck 
 down.
 
 THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 241 
 
 " I escaped," she writes in her journal, " but had 
 a sober time lying next door to her, waiting to see 
 if my turn was to come." 
 
 It took her twelve days to get home, and her 
 father and Mr. Niles were on hand to meet her, with 
 a great red placard announcing the publication of 
 " Little Men " pinned up in the carriage, and the 
 joyful tidings that fifty thousand of the books had 
 been sold before it was out. 
 
 The book was certainly very popular, for every 
 reader of " Little Women " must, of course, have 
 " Little Men," and besides there was a certain 
 type of " small boy " who had probably never read 
 " Little Women," boys of her nephews' age, or per- 
 haps a little older. It was a story calculated to 
 please all sizes and ages. There were chapters for 
 the quiet ones, the studious ones, the gay ones and 
 the sober ones. In the chapter called " Pranks and 
 Plays " Mrs. Jo, herself, says : 
 
 " I beg leave to assure my honored readers that 
 most of the incidents are taken from real life, and 
 that the oddest are the truest; for no person, no 
 matter how vivid an imagination he may have, can 
 invent anything half so droll as the freaks and 
 fancies that originate in the lively brains of little 
 people." 
 
 The " Kitty-mouse and the ' sackerryfice' " was 
 famous among the Alcott girls and their friends, 
 and " Brops " was another absorbing play. " The 
 Brops," Miss Alcott tells us, " is a winged quad-
 
 242 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 ruped with a human face of a youthful and merry 
 aspect. When it walks the earth it grunts, when 
 it soars it gives a shrill hoot; occasionally it goes 
 erect, and talks good English. Its body is usually 
 covered with a substance much resembling a shawl, 
 sometimes red, sometimes blue, often plaid, and 
 strange to say they frequently change skins with 
 one another. On their heads they have a horn very 
 like a stiff brown-paper lamplighter. Wings of the 
 same substance flap from their shoulders when they 
 fly ; this is never very far from the ground, as they 
 usually fall with violence if they attempt any lofty 
 flights. They browse over the earth, but can sit 
 up and eat like the squirrel. Their favorite nourish- 
 ment is the seed cake; apples also are freely taken, 
 and sometimes raw carrots are nibbled when food 
 is scarce. They live in dens, where they have a sort 
 of nest, much like a clothes-basket, in which the 
 little Brops play till their wings are grown. 
 These singular animals quarrel at times, and it is 
 on these occasions that they burst into human 
 speech, call each other names, cry, scold, and some- 
 times tear off horns and skin, declaring fiercely that 
 they ' won't play.' ..." 
 
 This game was a great favorite, and the younger 
 children beguiled many a rainy afternoon flapping 
 or creeping about the nursery, acting like little bed- 
 lamites, and being as merry as little grigs. To be 
 sure it was rather hard upon clothes, particularly 
 trouser knees and jacket elbows; but Mrs. Bhaer
 
 THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 
 
 243 
 
 only said, as she patched and darned she was al- 
 ways patching and darning good Mother Bhaer. 
 
 " We do things just as foolish and not half so 
 harmless. If I could get as much happiness out of 
 it as the little dears do, I'd be a Brop myself." 
 
 There is something very sweet and true in the 
 book, though you cannot lay your hand on the 
 thread of a story, yet each chapter has its special 
 center of interest, and with the exception of " Lit- 
 tle Women," it is the most popular of Miss Alcott's 
 books. It is nearly forty years since the birth of 
 " Little Men," and many of the little men who read 
 it then have grown sons now who read it in their 
 turn, and many of a later generation are reading 
 it, indeed, in the same dilapidated volumes that their 
 fathers pored over, with the same thumb marks, the 
 same dog-eared pages, the same favorite, much- 
 worn spots. 
 
 But the children of to-day have the advantage 
 over the earlier readers, for those first publica- 
 tions were unattractive little volumes, with the most 
 ridiculous pictures. Those pictures were bitter pills 
 to poor Louisa, who had artistic ideas, even though 
 no artist herself, but as they made no difference 
 in the sale of the book, she put up with them, 
 though she wailed to her publishers. It was many 
 years later before a real artist, with some under- 
 standing of children, came to her help. This was 
 Mary Halleck Foote, whose fine drawings are no 
 less famous than her beautiful stories.
 
 244 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 In 1877, six years after the publication of " Lit- 
 tle Men," Louisa wrote to Mrs. Dodge of St. 
 Nicholas, about " Under the Lilacs/' which she was 
 writing as a serial for that magazine : 
 
 " I will send you the first few chapters during the 
 week, for Mrs. Foote [for illustration], and with 
 them the schedule you suggest, so that my infants 
 may not be drawn with whiskers, and my big boys 
 and girls in pinafores, as in ' Eight Cousins.' I 
 hope the new baby won't be set aside too soon for 
 my illustrations, but I do feel a natural wish to have 
 one story prettily adorned with good pictures, as, 
 hitherto, artists have much afflicted me. ... I shall 
 expect the small tots to be unusually good, since the 
 artist has a live model to study from. Please pre- 
 sent my congratulations to the happy mamma and 
 Mr. Foote, Jr. Yours warmly, 
 
 " L. M. A." 
 
 This was part of a letter written from Concord 
 on June 3d, and the summer heat of the good little 
 town was often unendurable. 
 
 But as years went on, publishers began to think 
 a little about the " make up " of a book, so that 
 pretty covers and interesting pictures might count 
 for something, and the more recent editions of Miss 
 Alcott's books show a great improvement, in which 
 no one would have rejoiced more sincerely than the 
 author herself. " Little Men " in particular has 
 passed through the hands of Reginald Birch, who
 
 THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 245 
 
 has adorned it with a host of pretty, chubby chil- 
 dren, black-stockinged little boys and girls, and 
 even the heavy-browed " rough-and-tumble " Dan 
 has lost his terrors ; many " old-timers " regret this, 
 for he was a most delightful and blood-curdling vil- 
 lain according to the other pictures. 
 
 Louisa found that her fame had only slumbered 
 during the year of travel. The new book made her 
 more sought after than ever, and it took all her 
 cleverness to dodge the people who would make a 
 " lioness " of her. 
 
 She found her mother very feeble and much aged 
 by this last trouble. Though she had made no com- 
 plaint, she had sadly missed her two daughters, and 
 Louisa determined never to go far away from her 
 again. 
 
 " Nan well and calm," she writes in her journal, 
 " but under her sweet serenity is a very sad soul, 
 and she mourns for her mate like a tender turtle- 
 dove. 
 
 " The boys are tall, bright lads, devoted to Mar- 
 mee, and the life of the house. . . . Much company 
 and loads of letters, all full of good wishes and 
 welcome. . . . 
 
 " A happy month, for I felt well for the first time 
 in two years. I knew it wouldn't last, but enjoyed 
 it heartily while it did, and was grateful for rest 
 from pain and a touch of the old cheerfulness. It 
 was much needed at home." 
 
 But July, August, and September were trying
 
 246 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 months, with too much company and care, and the 
 death of her favorite uncle, Dr. S. J. May, helped 
 to upset the poor nerves again. In October she 
 went to Boston, for, from the time her health began 
 to fail, Concord never agreed with her. 
 
 It was nearly ten years since Louisa, a hearty, 
 healthy, energetic young woman, had set bravely 
 forth, to serve her country at the hospital ; and since 
 that time she had never drawn a well breath, though 
 she had fought for health as bravely as any soldier 
 for freedom. 
 
 She would not give up that was the trouble. 
 Deprived of bodily strength, that active, vigorous 
 mind of hers worked harder than ever, and this was 
 bad for her though she did not recognize it then. 
 She was always " keyed up " to some great effort ; 
 her family looked to her as their mainstay; the pub- 
 lic demanded story after story; the children in par- 
 ticular were never satisfied, and the luxury of a 
 private secretary and a typewriter was not dreamed 
 of in those days. She not only thought out her 
 stories, but she wrote them out, until the pen some- 
 times dropped from the cramped fingers. Poor 
 Louisa ! when she had health and strength, she had 
 nothing else but hope. Now she had everything but 
 health and strength, even hope would not be 
 quenched, though the tired nerves nearly gave up 
 hoping sometimes. Then would come a bright, 
 grateful letter from some jolly girl or boy, which 
 pleased her more than all the calls and requests
 
 THE BIRTH OP "LITTLE MEN." 247 
 
 for autographs, and she would think the pain and 
 trouble worth while, if they brought her such re- 
 wards. 
 
 " Little Men " proved a great lump of added 
 prosperity. The first thing she did was to set aside 
 a sum for Anna and the boys, to be invested in a 
 home later on. Then she planned comforts for the 
 old house in Concord, while she " rested up " in 
 Boston, enjoying people, pictures, plays, reading all 
 she could, and trying to forget the aching bones. 
 
 In November, she writes in her journal : " May 
 sent pleasant letters and some fine copies of Turner. 
 She decides to come home as she feels she is needed, 
 as I give out. Marmee is feeble, Nan has her boys 
 and her sorrow, and one strong head and hand is 
 wanted at home. A year and a half of holiday is 
 a good deal, and duty comes first always. Sorry to 
 call her back, but her eyes are troublesome, and 
 housework will rest them and set her up. Then 
 she can go again when I am better, for I don't want 
 her to be thwarted in her work more than just 
 enough to make her want it very much." 
 
 She came back to them like a streak of sunlight, 
 bringing new life into the quiet house. There was 
 something radiant about May Alcott, which was her 
 peculiar charm. Unlike Louisa, she never lost a 
 certain air of youth, which shone in her fair face 
 and golden hair, her vivacity, and her light springi- 
 ness of motion. She was a girl always, and her 
 sister took great pride in her and her beautiful work. 
 17
 
 248 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 In December, she writes, evidently from Boston: 
 " Enjoyed my quiet, sunny room very much, and 
 this lazy life seems to suit me, for I am better, mind 
 and body. All goes well at home, with May to run 
 the machine in her cheery, energetic style, and 
 amuse Marmee and Nan with gay histories. Had 
 a furnace put in, and all enjoyed the new climate. 
 No more rheumatic fevers and colds, with pictur- 
 esque open fires. Mother is to be cozy if money 
 can do it. She seems to be now, and my long-cher- 
 ished dream has come true; for she sits in a pleas- 
 ant room, with no work, no care, no poverty to 
 worry, but peace and comfort all about her, and 
 children, glad and able to stand between trouble 
 and her. Thank the Lord! I like to stop and re- 
 member my mercies. Working and waiting for 
 them makes them very welcome." 
 
 Indeed, if the early life of hardship and privation 
 had not told upon her, " Marmee " would have been 
 blessed above most women. She had surely earned 
 her reward, and seventy years is really but the be- 
 ginning of old age, but like Louisa, her energy had 
 far outrun her strength, and she was a feeble old 
 lady long before her time. 
 
 This holiday season was bravely kept up by the 
 Alcotts; grief was never nursed and fostered among 
 them, and so Louisa tells us of " a merry Christmas 
 at home, with a tree for the boys, a family dinner, 
 and frolic in the evening." 
 
 There were hosts of young cousins from Boston
 
 THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 249 
 
 who were continually dropping in upon them ; there 
 was coasting, and skating on the frozen Concord 
 River ; there were tramps in the keen winter air, led 
 by energetic May, while Louisa, from her home 
 nest, sighed longingly for the fun. She knew every 
 rivulet, every frozen, winding path through the Con- 
 cord woods, and many a time, I fear, she cast pru- 
 dence to the winds and went with the others ; but of 
 this there is no record. However, when they frol- 
 icked at night, she it was who planned the games, 
 arranged charades, and gave them convulsing char- 
 acter sketches, sparing not even the grave philoso- 
 phers, who enjoyed it all as much as the youngest 
 revelers. 
 
 " A varied, but on the whole, a good year, in 
 spite of pain," she writes. " Last Christmas we 
 were in Rome, mourning for John. What will next 
 Christmas bring forth? I have no ambition now 
 but to keep the family comfortable and not ache any 
 more. Pain has taught me patience, I hope if 
 nothing else." 
 
 January, 1872, came in laden with royalties, for 
 "Little Women" and "Little Men" alone were 
 coining money, and old-fashioned Polly was close 
 behind in popularity. " More, more, more ! " cried 
 the greedy public. " More, more, more ! " echoed 
 the greedier children, and Louisa, who always lis- 
 tened to her children, wrung her hands and wished 
 she had stayed abroad another year. Her admirers 
 still haunted her, and one infatuated unknown being
 
 250 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 began to send her daily offerings of lovely flowers, 
 which flavor of romance and mystery she greatly 
 enjoyed. 
 
 During February and March, she wrote " Shawl 
 Straps," which was first published in the Christian 
 Union, and during April and May she writes : 
 
 " Wrote another sketch for the Independent, ' A 
 French Wedding,' and the events of my travels paid 
 my expenses. All is fish that comes to the literary 
 net. Goethe put his joys and sorrows into poems; 
 I turn my adventures into bread and butter. 
 
 "June, 1872. Home and begin a new task. 
 Twenty years ago I resolved to make the family 
 independent, if I could. At forty [not quite, Louisa, 
 if you are accurate] that is done. Debts are paid 
 . . . and we have enough to be comfortable. It has 
 cost me my health, perhaps, but as I still live, there 
 is more for me to do, I suppose." 
 
 And so there was, hundreds of stories to be writ- 
 ten, many sweet little heroes and heroines to go into 
 a big world of readers and hold lasting places in 
 their hearts, struggling fellow-workers to be helped 
 by word and deed, a thousand unnamed kindnesses 
 to be scattered broadcast, without thought of thanks 
 or reward. A sister she was to all struggling girls 
 and boys, the ruling spirit of her home, a strong 
 prop for Anna in her loneliness, and a real father, 
 as she promised to be, to her " little men."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 
 
 [AD Louisa been willing to supply the 
 demand for books and stories, she would 
 have found it simply impossible, for 
 there was scarcely an editor or a pub- 
 lisher who would not have paid a great deal for 
 anything she wrote. Had she lived in these days 
 she could have kept several secretaries and type- 
 writers busily employed, while she went from one 
 to the other dashing off her stories. But she was 
 too independent for that sort of thing. We must 
 bear in mind that the Goose she mentions in her 
 poem not only laid the golden eggs, but hatched 
 them ; and so with Louisa during the next six years, 
 she not only planned her stories, but she prepared 
 them for publication, and in the case of " Work " 
 she wrote three pages at once on impression paper 
 one for Henry Ward Beecher, who had ordered 
 the story as a serial for the Christian Union; one 
 for Roberts Brothers, who were waiting to publish 
 it in book form, and the third for Low & Com- 
 pany of London, for her books were now in great 
 demand in England. From this exploit she had 
 251
 
 252 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 paralysis of her thumb, from which she never re- 
 covered. 
 
 " Work " was a story with a history. When Mr. 
 Beecher asked for a serial, Louisa remembered a 
 tale she had commenced years ago and had named 
 " Success." She had put it aside and forgotten it 
 in the hurry of other matters, but now she took it 
 from its pigeonhole and considered it seriously. 
 Christie Devon was good material to build upon. 
 Through this heroine she could tell much of her 
 own life and struggles, and as the Christian Union 
 offered her three thousand dollars for the com- 
 pleted manuscript, advancing a thousand dollars 
 as a seal to the bargain, she could not resist. She 
 says in her journal : 
 
 " Fired up the engine and plunged into a vortex, 
 with many doubts about getting out. Can't work 
 slowly; the thing possesses me, and I must obey till 
 it's done, ... so I was bound, and sat at the oar 
 like a galley slave." 
 
 May took charge of things at home during the 
 summer and fall of 1872, making a charming hos- 
 tess to the innumerable guests who invaded Orchard 
 House, while the hunted authoress " flew around 
 behind the scenes or skipped out of the back win- 
 dow when ordered out for inspection by the inquisi- 
 tive public. . . . 
 
 " Reporters sit on the wall and take notes, ar- 
 tists sketch me as I pick pears in the garden, and 
 strange women interview Johnny as he plays in the
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 253 
 
 orchard. It looks like impertinent curiosity to me, 
 but it is called ' fame ' and considered a blessing to 
 be grateful for, I find. Let 'em try it." 
 
 Again her trials as an authoress were vividly de- 
 scribed by a few clever rhymes which she wrote at 
 this time on the subject of fame: 
 
 There is a town of high repute, 
 
 Where saints and sages dwell, 
 Who in these latter days are forced 
 
 To bid sweet peace farewell. 
 For all their men are demigods, 
 
 So rumor doth declare, 
 And all the women are De Staels, 
 
 And genius fills the air. 
 
 So eager pilgrims penetrate 
 
 To their most private nooks, 
 Storm their back doors in search of news, 
 
 And interview their cooks. 
 Worship at ev'ry victim's shrine, 
 
 See halos round their hats, 
 Embalm the chickweed from their yards, 
 
 And photograph their cats. 
 
 Alas! what can the poor souls do? 
 
 Their homes are homes no more, 
 No washing-day is sacred now, 
 
 Spring cleaning's never o'er. 
 Their doorsteps are the strangers' camp, 
 
 Their trees bear many a name, 
 Artists their very nightcaps sketch, 
 
 And this and this, is fame!
 
 254 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 " September. To Walcott with Father and Fred. 
 A quaint, lovely old place is the little house on 
 Spindle Hill, where the boy Amos dreamed the 
 dreams that have come true at last. Got hints for 
 my novel, ' The Cost of an Idea ' if I ever have 
 time to write it. 
 
 " Don't w r onder the boy longed to climb those 
 hills and see what lay beyond." 
 
 She never did write the novel, but after a glimpse 
 of those " everlasting hills " and the old home, the 
 simple story of her father's boyhood took root in 
 her mind, and " Eli's Education " was the result, a 
 warm and loving memory of the studious country 
 lad, whose ideals in early youth were no more beau- 
 tiful or fair than those of the white-haired scholar, 
 who still looked upward toward them. 
 
 In October, Miss Alcott went to Boston. " I can't 
 work at home," she says, " and need to be alone to 
 spin like a spider. Rested ; walked ; to the theater 
 now and then. Home once a week with books, etc., 
 for Marmee and Nan. Prepared ' Shawl Straps ' 
 for Roberts." 
 
 "November. Forty on the 29th. Got Father 
 off for the West, all neat and comfortable. I en- 
 joyed every penny spent, and had a happy time 
 packing his new trunk with warm flannels, neat 
 shirts, gloves, etc., and seeing the dear man go off 
 in a new suit, overcoat, hat, and all, like a gentle- 
 man. We both laughed over the pathetic old times, 
 with tears in our eyes, and I reminded him of the
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 255 
 
 ' poor as poverty, but serene as heaven ' saying." 
 It was after her father's departure that she began 
 " Work." Christie was an old friend, but the rough 
 copy of bygone days was not to be considered, so 
 she began at the beginning, " pulling down and 
 building up " as fast as she could. The old reck- 
 less speed of fourteen hours a day could not be 
 thought of now. Louisa was obliged to be prudent, 
 she dared not let the " vortex " get the better of 
 her; sleep and exercise were necessary, and regular 
 meals a rule in the game; consequently the story 
 went forward at a slower pace. She writes in her 
 journal, January, 1873 : 
 
 " Getting on well with ' Work ' ; have to go 
 slowly for fear of a breakdown. . . . Roberts 
 Brothers paid me over two thousand dollars for 
 books. S. E. S. invested most of it with the thou- 
 sand F. sent. Gave C. M. a hundred dollars, a 
 thank offering for my success. I like to help the 
 class of ' silent poor ' to which we belonged for so 
 many years needy, but respectable, and forgotten 
 because too proud to beg. Work difficult to 
 find for such people, and life made very hard 
 for want of a little money to ease the necessary 
 needs." 
 
 In February, came an interruption in the shape of 
 Anna's serious illness ; she had pneumonia and came 
 so very near dying that Mr. Alcott was sent for by 
 the frightened family. 
 
 " She gave me the boys," writes Louisa, " but
 
 256 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 the dear saint got well, and kept the lads for herself. 
 Thank God! Back to my work with what wits 
 nursing left me. 
 
 " Had Johnny for a week to keep all quiet at 
 home. Enjoyed the sweet little soul very much and 
 sent him back much better." 
 
 Children were a delight to Louisa, and her small 
 nephews were a constant pleasure. She " moth- 
 ered " them quite as well as Anna herself, and no 
 doubt Johnny's visit did her as much good as it 
 did him. 
 
 She finished " Work " by the end of March, hav- 
 ing started in November. " Not quite what it 
 should be," she says ; " too many interruptions. 
 Should like to do one book in peace, and see if it 
 wouldn't be good." 
 
 It pleased her readers, however. " Work " has 
 always been a popular book, though much older in 
 style than its predecessors. Had it been published 
 before " Little Women," it certainly would not have 
 pushed its author to the front, but coming as it did, 
 in answer to the public demand, it was eagerly read, 
 and many recognized at once how true to her own 
 life and work was the character of Christie Devon ; 
 strong of purpose, fearless in her determination to 
 go forth and win for herself a place in the world. 
 She shows Christie as she would have been, with 
 no kith nor kin to shelter her when the battle turned 
 against her. In many places the book is over- 
 serious, and some of her younger readers criticised
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 257 
 
 freely. The suicide of poor, crazy Helen Campbell 
 disturbed them greatly, and Miss Alcott answered 
 one of these plaintive wails: 
 
 " I did not like the suicide in * Work/ " she wrote, 
 " but as much of that chapter was true, I let it 
 stand as a warning to several people who need it, 
 to my knowledge, and to many whom I do not 
 know. I have already had letters from strangers 
 thanking me for it, so I am not sorry it went in. 
 One must have both the light and dark side to paint 
 life truly." 
 
 " Work " contains twenty chapters, and takes 
 Christie from her twenty-first birthday to her for- 
 tieth, which puts the story at once a trifle out of 
 the reach of " little men and women " ; the thought- 
 ful girl, the sober boy from sixteen to twenty, will 
 appreciate it, and older heads still see much that is 
 fine and good in it. Louisa was writing her own 
 biography, and from the time she was twenty-one 
 she struggled as Christie did ; what she .says of her 
 heroine applies to herself : 
 
 " Twenty-one to-morrow, and her inheritance a 
 head, a heart, a pair of hands; also the dower of 
 most New England girls intelligence, courage, and 
 common sense, many practical gifts and hidden 
 under the reserve which soon melts in a genial 
 atmosphere, much romance and enthusiasm, and 
 the spirit which can rise to heroism when the great 
 moment comes." 
 
 This New England girl began at the bottom, and
 
 258 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 in her experience as a servant, Miss Alcott has 
 faithfully recorded her own unpleasant trial, even to 
 the polishing of her master's boots; it was at this 
 point that Louisa rebelled, but poor Christie was 
 differently situated ; she had no " Marmee " to turn 
 to as a refuge, so she had to bring forth all her phi- 
 losophy and learn to polish boots properly. 
 
 As an actress, Christie touches closely on Louisa's 
 life; all the trials, temptations, wild ambitions, and 
 rude awakening are true to life. Even her favorite 
 Dickens was patronized by Christie. 
 
 As governess, companion, seamstress, surely Miss 
 Alcott's own experience told the tale of Christie's, 
 even in her despairing moments, which were so 
 closely related to the time when Louisa's resolute 
 heart failed her, when manuscripts " came home to 
 roost," or the tired fingers and back ached with the 
 dreary, endless stitching. 
 
 In speaking of " Work " Miss Alcott said to a 
 friend : " Christie's adventures are many of them 
 my own; Mr. Power is Mr. Parker, Mrs. Wilkins 
 is imaginary, and all the rest." This may be true, 
 and yet in the character of David Sterling there is 
 a strong suggestion of her old friend Thoreau. His 
 love of all growing things and outdoor life, his 
 name, his gentle ways, his sturdy patriotism, and 
 above all his playing of the flute. Louisa put her 
 poem " Thoreau's Flute," in beautiful prose, in the 
 chapter called " Little Heartsease." 
 
 As might have been expected, " Work " sold well,
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 259 
 
 and though criticised more than any of her stories, 
 she felt that her labor had not been in vain. 
 
 In April, she went home to take May's place, and 
 sent her back to London, happy and independent, 
 with a gift of a thousand dollars for another year 
 of study. She had spent seven months in Boston, 
 had written " a book and ten tales, earned three 
 thousand two hundred and fifty dollars by my pen, 
 and am satisfied with my winter's work." 
 
 Feeling unable to do active home work, which 
 had always been such a rest to her tired brain, and 
 unwilling to put up with the trifling of servants, 
 Miss Alcott decided to get a nice American woman, 
 who could cook and help her with the housework, 
 and the treasure she secured made the family 
 rejoice. 
 
 " Peace fell upon our troubled souls, and all went 
 well. Good meals, tidy house, cheerful service, and 
 in the P.M. an intelligent young person to read and 
 sew with us. It was curious how she came to us; 
 she had taught and sewed, and was tired, and 
 wanted something else ; decided to try for a house- 
 keeper's place, but happened to read " Work," and 
 thought she'd do as Christie did take anything 
 that came. I was the first who answered her ad- 
 vertisement, and when she found I wrote the book, 
 she said : ' I'll go and see if Miss Alcott practices as 
 she preaches.' " 
 
 Feeling care-free in such capable hands, Louisa 
 and little Johnny went to the seaside for a week,
 
 260 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 but were summoned home by the alarming illness 
 of Mrs. Alcott. For three weeks she hovered at 
 death's door, unconscious most of the time, and 
 those who loved her best feared she would slip 
 away, but she came slowly back to life, the shadow 
 of a great change upon her. 
 
 Louisa saw this at once; the brave, energetic 
 " Marmee " was gone forever, and in her place, a 
 feeble old woman who knew that she must now 
 tread the downward path. They all knew it, too, 
 father and daughters, and they strove to keep the 
 skies sunny, and the way easy for the tired feet. It 
 was all they could do for one whose life service had 
 been for them. 
 
 When Louisa faced sorrow, it was always with 
 bravery. Death did not mean the end of things to 
 her; love lived always, and the family tie was too 
 strong to be broken. However, " Marmee " was 
 not to leave them yet, and they rejoiced over her 
 improvement. During the late summer and early 
 fall she was able to take quiet drives with Louisa, 
 and her birthday, the 8th of October, was celebrated 
 merrily. Miss Alcott made a little story about it 
 which she called " A Happy Birthday," and invested 
 the fifty dollars it brought in drives for the invalid. 
 
 She determined to move the family to Boston 
 for the winter, as Concord was always cold and 
 bleak. She found sunny, cheerful rooms, and a 
 nice school for the boys, while the three tired 
 women " rested up " after the hard spring and sum-
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 261 
 
 mer. This being a sort of hospital trip for " Mar- 
 mee " and Anna, to say nothing of herself, Louisa 
 did little or no work. " Pot-boilers," of course, she 
 did not count ; once given an idea it was easy enough 
 to rush into a story, and from November to April 
 she earned a thousand dollars in that easy fashion. 
 But her mother had another severe illness, and 
 Louisa had a heartache. Her sympathy turned 
 toward her father. In some way his philosophy, 
 his sweet patience, had never brought him his re- 
 ward, and to Louisa it seemed rather hard that she 
 should have the fame, and he the crumbs. She be- 
 gan to think the world a little out of gear. She 
 writes : 
 
 " When I had the youth, I had no money; now 
 I have the money I have no time; and when I get 
 the time, if I ever do, I shall have no health to 
 enjoy life. I suppose it's the discipline I need; but 
 it's rather hard to love the things I do, and see 
 them go by because duty chains me to my galley. 
 If I ever come into port with all sail set, that will 
 be reward, perhaps. Life always was a puzzle to 
 me, and gets more mysterious as I go on. I shall 
 find it out by and by, and see that it's all right, 
 if I can only keep brave and patient to the 
 end." 
 
 It was not often of late years that Louisa spoke 
 so freely in her journal about her own thoughts and 
 feelings. As a child and a growing girl, she had 
 found the pages of her diary helpful reminders of
 
 262 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 duty. The solemn, questioning little girl was feel- 
 ing her course and liked to trace it with her pen, 
 but the real cares of life had left her little time for 
 self-examination. Instead, as we can see, she read 
 her Emerson, and profited by his teaching. This 
 dear friend was her idol still, and the self-reliant, 
 heroic young woman, so nobly carrying the family 
 burdens, no doubt inspired the philosopher, for he 
 admired her greatly. Perhaps it was of her he 
 thought when he wrote in his essay on " Hero- 
 ism," which every American girl should read: 
 
 " Let the maiden with erect soul walk serenely on 
 her way, accept the hint of each new experience, 
 search in turn all the objects that solicit her eye, that 
 she may learn the power and charm of her new-born 
 being, which is the kindling of a new dawn in the 
 recesses of space. . . . Oh, friend, never strike sail 
 to a fear! Come into port greatly, or sail with 
 God the seas. Not in vain you live, for every pass- 
 ing eye is cheered and refined by the vision." 
 
 This was Louisa, heart and soul, as those who 
 loved her knew. 
 
 The return of May in the spring, laden with rich 
 spoils from her year's study, enlivened the house- 
 hold as usual. She brought with her lovely sketches 
 and copies of Turner, and her sister gloried in her 
 success. They stayed in Boston long enough to 
 erect a tablet to their Grandmother May, which they 
 took their mother to see. 
 
 " A pathetic sight," writes the daughter, " to see
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 263 
 
 father walk up the aisle with the feeble old wife on 
 his arm, as they went to be married nearly fifty 
 years ago. . . . Several old ladies came in and 
 knew Mother. She broke down, thinking of the 
 time when she and her mother and sisters, and father 
 and brothers all went to church together, and we 
 took her home, saying : ' This isn't my Boston ; all 
 my friends are gone. I never want to see it any 
 more.' And she never did." 
 
 Poor old lady! The last of a large family, sit- 
 ting there, thinking of the past! Is it a wonder 
 that she broke down? 
 
 After they were settled again at Concord Louisa 
 ran away to Boston by herself, and started work in 
 earnest. The Elgin Watch Company offered her 
 a gold watch or a hundred dollars for a story. She 
 chose the money, and wrote " My Rococo Watch," 
 which was published later in the " Spinning Wheel 
 Series." She had now become such a sought-after 
 person that the publishers began to quarrel over her 
 unwritten stories. 
 
 " I rather enjoyed it," she writes, " and felt im- 
 portant with Roberts, Low, and Scribner all clamor- 
 ing for my ' 'umble ' work. No peddling poor little 
 manuscripts now and feeling rich with ten dollars ! 
 The golden goose can sell her eggs for a good price, 
 if she isn't killed by too much driving." 
 
 The "unwritten story" she speaks about was 
 evidently " Eight Cousins," which she finished in 
 December, and which was published in serial form 
 18
 
 264 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 in St. Nicholas. On the first page is this in- 
 scription : 
 
 To 
 
 The many boys and girls, whose letters it has been impossi- 
 ble to answer, this book is dedicated as a peace offering, 
 by their friend 
 
 L. M. ALCOTT. 
 
 Miss Alcott has never written a more charming, 
 wholesome tale. She gives us a glimpse of Boston 
 and the harbor, she throws a bit of the sea in, with 
 a strong Scotch flavor and true American accent, 
 and we like the mixture. There are boys, boys, 
 boys everywhere; she glories in them, she revels in 
 them, and Uncle Alec is the biggest boy of them all. 
 
 In a certain sense none of the characters has 
 any real foundation. The golden-haired, blue-eyed 
 heroine, Rose, bears a strong likeness to May, and 
 Uncle Alec has a great deal of Louisa herself 
 tucked away in his old bachelor's heart. Beyond 
 a doubt, the aunts were all funny portraits of people 
 she knew, and the boys, jolly, hearty fellows, were 
 like all other boys the world over. 
 
 Louisa turned herself loose in this happy meadow 
 of youth, picking the prettiest flowers she could find 
 for her boys and girls. We love Rose, with her 
 grace, her kindness, her generosity; and the strong, 
 capable Phoebe, with her dark hair and black eyes 
 and her beautiful voice; and the kind old aunts, 
 with the simple old-fashioned ways, and all the
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 26$ 
 
 rest of them; and we are glad that Miss Alcott, in 
 her preface, has promised us a sequel that we are 
 not to say good-by to the Campbell Clan just yet, 
 that there is to be a " Rose in Bloom " some day 
 not far off. " Eight Cousins " found its niche at 
 once ; the boys and girls to whom it was dedicated 
 felt pacified in spite of the unanswered letters. 
 
 I fancy Louisa enjoyed the education of this 
 motherless and fatherless little Rose; she put a good 
 many of her own ideas in Uncle Alec's wise head. 
 It was his opinion that if Rose had a good grip of 
 the " three R's " she would do pretty well. " Let 
 us be thorough," he said, " no matter how slowly 
 we go." He objected to the fashionable school- 
 teacher, who " crammed her pupils like Thanksgiv- 
 ing turkeys, instead of feeding them in a natural 
 and wholesome way." 
 
 "As figures are rather important things to most 
 of us," he suggested, when Rose showed him a 
 dilapidated account book, " wouldn't it be wise to 
 begin at once and learn to manage your pennies 
 before the pounds come to perplex you ?" 
 
 That Rose liked her simple, everyday lessons we 
 take for granted, when she answers with a mixture 
 of fun and earnestness : 
 
 " You shall teach me, and when I am a woman 
 we will set up a school where nothing but the three 
 R's shall be taught, and all the children live on oat- 
 meal, and the girls have waists a yard round." 
 
 He believed in fun, too, and plenty of it, and not
 
 266 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 one of the boys was keener for a frolic than Dr. 
 Alec, always planning pleasant surprises when Rose 
 most longed for it. He would smile and say : 
 " Half the children's pleasure consists in having 
 their fun when they want it." And surely never in 
 one book was crowded so much innocent happiness 
 and fun, so many helpful lessons of love and sacri- 
 fice, for Miss Alcott wished to show that boys and 
 girls, no matter what their station, nor how wealthy 
 they may be, have still their part to play in the 
 work-a-day world, which they can make the brighter 
 and better, through " little deeds of kindness." 
 After finishing " Eight Cousins " she arranged for 
 the writing of " Silver Pitchers," which was to be 
 not only a Centennial story, but a temperance tale. 
 There is not much in it, but it paid well and went 
 well ; Louisa herself did not care for it. " Poor 
 stuff," she says, " but the mill must keep on grind- 
 ing even chaff." 
 
 It was not often she disliked her literary children. 
 Generally she loved them, though she recognized 
 their faults, but the " written-to-order " kind of 
 story she never cared for. There was included in 
 this volume, which has recently been republished in 
 the " Spinning Wheel Series," under the title of 
 " Silver Pitchers," eight other tales more or less 
 interesting. "My Rococo Watch," " Letty's 
 Tramp," and " Transcendental Wild Oats " are 
 the best among them. The last-mentioned story 
 being true from start to finish, indeed, a graphic
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 267 
 
 account of the Fruit lands experiment, told in 
 Louisa's most humorous vein, with a dash of real 
 sentiment here and there, like a streak of gold. 
 
 Feeling that she had earned, if not a vacation, at 
 least a recess, she ran up to Vassar, where she talked 
 to four hundred girls, wrote in stacks of albums and 
 school books, and kissed everyone who asked her. 
 From Vassar she went to New York, where she 
 stayed but a short while, but she adds in her jour- 
 nal : " Things look rather jolly, and I may try a 
 winter there sometime, as I need a change and new 
 ideas." 
 
 By March, she was home again getting ready for 
 the Centennial celebration of the Concord Fight, 
 when Paul Revere took his famous ride, and the 
 " British regulars fired and fled." As usual, she 
 forgot herself in the enthusiasm and excitement, the 
 result being " general breakdown, owing to an un- 
 wise desire to outdo all the other towns; too many 
 people." 
 
 June, July, and August she generally served up 
 together in her journal, and that season of 1875 she 
 writes : " Keep house at home, with two Irish in- 
 capables to trot after, and ninety-two guests in one 
 month to entertain. Fame is an expensive luxury; 
 I can do without it. This is my worst scrape, I 
 think. I asked for bread and got a stone in the 
 shape of a pedestal." 
 
 But in a certain way she liked her popularity, if 
 it did not walk unbidden into her home circle. She
 
 268 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 gives a humorous description of a Woman's Con- 
 gress she attended at Syracuse in September, 1875 : 
 
 " Funny time with the girls. Write loads of 
 autographs, dodge at the theater, and am kissed to 
 death by gushing damsels. One energetic lady 
 grasped my hand in the crowd, exclaiming : ' If you 
 ever come to Oshkosh, your feet will not be allowed 
 to touch the ground; you will be borne in the arms 
 of the people ! Will you come ? ' ' Never/ re- 
 sponded Miss Alcott, trying to look affable and 
 dying to laugh, as the good soul worked my arm 
 like a pump-handle, and from the gallery, genera- 
 tions of girls were looking on. This this is 
 fame ! " 
 
 Before going home, she visited Niagara and 
 again stopped in New York, where she had a most 
 delightful visit. The great city with its hurry and 
 bustle gave her the change she longed for, the brain 
 tonic that she needed. No two days of her stay were 
 alike, she was welcomed in literary and social circles. 
 She caught glimpses of the very rich in their homes, 
 of the very poor who had no homes at all. She went 
 to receptions, lectures, concerts, operas, theaters. 
 She visited the Tombs, Newsboys' Home, and on 
 Christmas Day went to Randall's Island with her 
 sweet old Quaker friend, Mrs. Abby Gibbons. 
 These last expeditions she enjoyed more than all the 
 parties or dinners. But even though a giddy per- 
 son, she is also " a thrifty butterfly " as she writes 
 her father, " having written three stories, which in-
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 269 
 
 eluded a ' girl paper ' for St. Nick, while several 
 other papers were waiting for tales." 
 
 " So far," she adds, " I like New York very 
 much, and feel so well I shall stay on till I'm tired 
 of it. People begin to tell me how much better I 
 look than when I came, and I have not an ache to 
 fret over. This, after such a long lesson in bodily 
 ails, is a blessing for which I am duly grateful." 
 
 The next letter to her little nephews describes her 
 visit to the Newsboys' Home, which she enjoyed 
 immensely. One hundred and eighty boys swarm- 
 ing about her was a delight in itself and a welcome 
 experience. She speaks specially of " one little 
 chap, only six, who trotted around, busy as a bee, 
 putting his small shoes and ragged jacket in one 
 of the lockers. I asked about little Pete and the 
 man told us his brother, only nine, supported him 
 and took care of him entirely and wouldn't let 
 Pete be sent away to any home, because he wished 
 to have his ' family ' with him. 
 
 " Think of that, Fred ! How would it seem to 
 be all alone in a big city, with no mamma to cuddle 
 you; no two grandpas' houses to take you in; not 
 a penny but what you earned, and Donny to take 
 care of? Could you do it? Nine-year-old Patsey 
 does it capitally; buys Pete's clothes, pays for his 
 bed and supper, and puts pennies in the savings 
 bank. There's a brave little man for you ! 
 
 ". . . The savings bank was a great table full 
 of slits, each one leading to a little place below and
 
 270 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 numbered outside, so each boy knew his own. Once 
 a month the bank is opened, and the lads take out 
 what they like or have it invested in a big bank for 
 them to have when they find homes out West, as 
 many do, and make good farmers. A boy was put- 
 ting in some pennies as we looked, and I asked 
 how much he had saved this month. * Fourteen 
 dollars, ma'am,' said the thirteen-year-older, proudly 
 slipping in the last cent. A prize of three dollars is 
 offered to the lad who saves the most in a month." 
 
 She closes her letter to the boys with the follow- 
 ing bright and humorous description of the going- 
 to-bed arrangements. " At nine, the word ' Bed! ' 
 was given, and," she winds up, " away went 
 the lads, trooping up to sleep in shirts and trousers 
 as nightgowns are not provided. How would a 
 boy I know like that? a boy who likes to have 
 ' trommin ' on his nighties. Of course, I don't 
 mean Dandy Don ! Oh, dear, no ! " 
 
 Her visit to Randall's Island, Christmas Day, was 
 full of interest, though her heart ached for the little 
 " forlornities " she saw there. There is no doubt 
 that her generous hands opened wide with the joy 
 of giving, but she has no word of that, only praise 
 and admiration for the sweet Quaker couple, who 
 were beloved through the length and breadth of the 
 island. 
 
 She writes in a letter to her family : " One of 
 the teachers in the idiot home was a Miss C, who 
 remembered Nan at Dr. Wilbur's. Very ladylike
 
 PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 271 
 
 and all devotion to me. But such a life! Oh, me! 
 Who can lead it and not go mad? 
 
 " At four we left and came home, Mrs. Gibbons 
 giving a box of toys and sweeties on board the boat, 
 for the childlren of the men who own it. So leav- 
 ing a stream of blessings and pleasures behind her, 
 the dear old lady drove away, simply saying: 
 ' There, now ; I shall feel better for the next year.' 
 Well she may, bless her! 
 
 " She made a speech to the chapel children, . . . 
 and told them that she should come as long as she 
 could, and when she was gone her children would 
 still keep it up in memory of her ; so for thirty years 
 more she hoped this, their one holiday, would be 
 made happy for them. I could have hugged her 
 on the spot, the motherly old dear! 
 
 "... I got home at five, and then remembered 
 I'd had no lunch; so I took an apple till six, when 
 I discovered that all had dined at one, so the helpers 
 could go early this evening. Thus my Christmas 
 Day was without dinner or presents, for the first 
 time since I can remember. Yet it has been a very 
 memorable day, and I feel as if I'd had a splendid 
 feed, seeing the poor babies wallow in turkey and 
 soup, and that every gift I put into their hands had 
 come back to me in the dumb delight of their 
 unchildlike faces trying to smile." 
 
 Altogether, Louisa's visit to New York was a 
 great success. At forty-three, she was not too old 
 to enjoy the pageant of the great city, and this she
 
 272 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 did most thoroughly, while, as we see, she looked 
 deep down into the heart of the sober side, doing 
 what she could to help along, and she went back to 
 Boston feeling all the better, physically and men- 
 tally, for her contact with this outside world.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 
 
 URING the summer of 1876, which was 
 spent in Concord nursing her mother, 
 now constantly ill, Louisa had a busy 
 time. Here are some items from her 
 journal, to show how hands and heart and brain 
 were all in motion: 
 
 " June Lovely month ! Keep hotel and wait on 
 Marmee. 
 
 " Try to get up steam for a new serial, as Mrs. 
 Dodge wants one, and Scribner offers three thou- 
 sand dollars for it. Roberts Brothers want a novel ; 
 and the various newspapers and magazines clamor 
 for tales. My brain is squeezed dry, and I can 
 only wait for help. 
 
 " July and August Get an idea and start ' Rose 
 in Bloom/ though I hate sequels." 
 
 The Scribners at that time were the publishers of 
 St. Nicholas. Mrs. Mary Mapes Dodge, the editor- 
 in-chief, was an intimate friend of Miss Alcott's, so 
 it was not remarkable that the children's great maga- 
 zine should make every effort to secure contribu- 
 tions from the children's great writer, for there was 
 273
 
 274 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 now no doubt that, in her own line, Louisa had no 
 equal. Though she never bound herself to any 
 special publication, she is to be found very often in 
 the pages of St. Nicholas, and " Rose in Bloom " 
 had long been promised to the enthusiastic young 
 readers. 
 
 This mighty task of twenty-two chapters was 
 accomplished in three weeks, and proved to be one 
 of the sweetest and brightest of her stories. Rose, 
 as a grown-up heroine, is charming ; the sort of girl 
 we all love, the sort of woman men admire and 
 reverence ; and dark, splendid Phoebe, with the glori- 
 ous voice, is a beautiful contrast; two royal girls 
 full of life and youth, and hope, and noble purpose. 
 But she has not neglected her boys, they have turned 
 out fine clansmen, and even though Charlie's weak- 
 ness got the upper hand, he was a handsome, lovable 
 fellow, and many a secret sigh has been breathed at 
 his shrine by romantic damsels, who admire the 
 " bold and dashing " hero. In the studious Mac 
 and quiet, steadfast Archie, she has fashioned two 
 men worthy of her pen, while the other characters 
 she has mellowed and broadened with the passing 
 years. 
 
 It is so delightful to meet our old friends in this 
 happy fashion, and when Rose comes home from 
 Europe to take possession of her property, we feel 
 that the " coming out " party is not the beginning 
 and end of things for a rich and pretty girl. 
 
 The glimpses she had recently had of the enor-
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 275 
 
 mous charities of a great city had given Louisa a 
 weapon to put into the hands of her young heiress, 
 whose good works take the shape of a home for 
 gentlewomen, a hospital for sick babies, and best of 
 all, the " Rose Garden " where the little creatures 
 could toddle about in the fresh air. Rose even 
 adopts a little waif herself, a sad and solemn child 
 with big wistful eyes, which had seen too much of 
 the world's sorrow. 
 
 Miss Alcott is more romantic than usual in her 
 love scenes, but she is specially happy when she 
 comes close to Nature, in the chapter " Among the 
 Hay-Cocks." It is full of the poetry of Keats, the 
 ramblings of Thoreau, and the philosophy of Emer- 
 son, a fitting background to the budding love of a 
 strong man and a fair girl. From that time began 
 the unfolding of the petals from about the golden 
 heart of the Rose, and Miss Alcott almost turns poet 
 as she lingers over the sweet love story. 
 
 " Rose in Bloom " was published in November of 
 the Centennial year, and went well from the first, 
 taking its place among the most popular of her 
 books. Before it was finished, May sailed again 
 for another year of study abroad, a journey from 
 which she never returned. 
 
 " God be with her ! " writes Louisa, from a heart 
 full of foreboding. " She has done her distasteful 
 duty faithfully, and deserves a reward. She cannot 
 find the help she needs here, and is happy and busy 
 in her own world over there."
 
 276 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 This time their " little Raphael " made many 
 strides. " I am getting on," she wrote her home 
 people, " and I feel as if it was not all a mistake, 
 for I have some talent and will prove it," and her 
 sister adds: " Modesty is a sign of genius, and I 
 think our girl has both. The money I invest in her 
 pays the sort of interest I like. I am proud to have 
 her show what she can do, and have her depend on 
 no one but me." 
 
 The winter of 1877 opened well. Anna kept 
 house, and the boys, tall, fine lads, filled it with sun- 
 shine. Mr. Alcott was writing a book, " Marmee " 
 was cozy with her sewing, her letters, and her 
 " girls," so Louisa felt free to slip away to Boston 
 for some weeks. Here, at the request of Roberts 
 Brothers, she wrote a novel called " A Modern 
 Mephistopheles " for their famous No Name Scries. 
 
 " It has been simmering ever since I read ' Faust ' 
 last year," she tells us. " Enjoyed doing it, being 
 tired of providing moral pap for the young. Long 
 to write a novel but cannot get time enough." 
 
 This was the result of one of her fits of rebellion. 
 Louisa turned loose, pranced like a colt, having 
 shaken off the halter ; and she gave rein to that vivid, 
 morbid fancy of hers, which in the early days had 
 sold so many sensational " pot-boilers." Safely 
 hidden, as to her identity, she enjoyed the mystery 
 of her " Modern Mephistopheles." but it is fairly 
 certain that she would never have allowed this 
 queer child of hers to bear her name. The story
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 277 
 
 is as weird as Goethe's " Faust " without its great- 
 ness; there is neither hope, nor light, nor joy in it. 
 There is, of course, a moral, but the afflictions and 
 catastrophes crowd so thick that the thread of gold 
 is lost in the maze of evil. For the first time she 
 fails to present life as she found it. She draws on 
 her imagination and from what she has read. 
 
 Mrs. Cheney, in speaking of this work in the 
 " Life and Letters," says : " We do not find Louisa 
 Alcott's own broad, generous, healthy life, or that 
 which lay around her in this book, but the remi- 
 niscences of her reading, which she had striven to 
 make her own by invention and fancy." In itself 
 a fine bit of work, it adds nothing to Miss Alcott's 
 fame as a writer, but it excited much comment and 
 a great deal of guessing, which the author enjoyed 
 most heartily. 
 
 The following letter to her publisher, Mr. Niles, 
 shows the family feeling regarding the book : 
 
 " DEAR MR. NILES : 
 
 " I had to keep the proof longer than I meant, 
 because a funeral came in the way. 
 
 " The book as last sent is lovely, and much bigger 
 than I expected. 
 
 " Poor ' Marmee/ ill in bed, hugged it and said: 
 * It is perfect, only I do wish your name could be 
 on it/ She is very proud of it ; and tender-hearted 
 Anna weeps and broods over it, calling Gladys the 
 best and sweetest character I ever did. So much
 
 278 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 for home opinion, now let's see what the public will 
 say. May clamors for it, but I don't want to send 
 this till she has had one or two of the others. [She 
 refers here to the novels which came out in the 
 No Name Series.] Have you sent her ' Is That 
 All?' If not, please do; then it won't look sus- 
 picious to send only ' M. M.' [Modern Mephis- 
 topheles]. 
 
 " I am so glad the job is done, and hope it won't 
 disgrace the Series. Is not another to come before 
 this ? I hope so, for many people suspect what is 
 up. ... 
 
 " Thanks for the trouble you have taken to keep 
 the secret. Now the fun will begin. 
 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 " L. M. A." 
 
 It is plainly to be seen that while May might have 
 known that her sister was writing a novel for the 
 Series, she was not told the title of the story, and 
 had therefore to pick it from among the many 
 Roberts Brothers sent her as puzzles. 
 
 At last Louisa was able to carry out a cherished 
 plan; she helped Anna buy the Thoreau place for 
 herself and the boys, who were growng up fast and 
 needed a home of their own, and the two sisters 
 had happy times together beautifying the old- 
 fashioned yellow house, where Thoreau had spent 
 his last days, and which was full of the sweetest 
 memories to them both.
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 279 
 
 " Helped to buy the house for Nan," writes 
 Louisa, " so she has her wish and is happy. When 
 shall I have mine? Ought to be contented with 
 knowing I help both sisters by my brains. But 
 I'm selfish, and want to go away and rest in Europe. 
 Never shall." 
 
 She put away her private woes, however, to re- 
 joice in May's triumph. She had been through a 
 hard winter of study in Paris, and at the request of 
 her teacher, sent a bit of still life to the Salon. It 
 was accepted, hung and much praised by the judges. 
 May was jubilant, her family scarcely less so, and 
 the star of fame glimmered afar for the young artist, 
 whose hard work and talent were beginning to be 
 recognized. 
 
 May and June were passed happily and peace- 
 fully at Concord with the dear invalid, who grew 
 more feeble each day, though she was still able to 
 drive gently in a low basket phaeton through the 
 beautiful woods she loved so well. Louisa forgot 
 her own ailments in the sweet companionship of 
 those summer days. Indeed, she began to hope 
 that her old enemy, neuralgia, had completely dis- 
 appeared. Then it is to be feared that her energy 
 got the better of her prudence, for in July she 
 records : 
 
 " Got too tired and was laid up for some weeks. 
 A curious time, lying quite happily at rest, won- 
 dering what was to come next." 
 
 In August, she felt better and began " Under the 
 19
 
 280 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Lilacs," which was to make its bow in the fall, as 
 a serial in St. Nicholas. 
 
 In September, " Marmee " was much worse, and 
 the two daughters, who watched her so anxiously, 
 saw that the end was very near. No one knew what 
 the parting meant tc Louisa. Anna had her boys ; 
 May her pictures; but her whole life had been one 
 earnest endeavor to make her mother's pathway 
 easy, and to see her slipping away in the midst of 
 prosperity, when luxuries could be had for the ask- 
 ing, was hard indeed. 
 
 All through their trials and their hardships 
 " Marmee's " had been the steadying hand upon the 
 wheel. Her strength was not the calm of a serene 
 philosopher like her husband, but the practical 
 energy of an everyday, wide-awake woman, ready 
 to help those she loved best out of every dilemma, 
 never faltering when the way was rough and stony, 
 as it was too often. In such cases she never waited 
 for the stones to roll away; she moved them her- 
 self, a strong, bright example for her little girls, 
 who, one and all, inherited that courageous spirit. 
 Louisa, in particular, showed this influence from the 
 day of small tasks till the great ones were finished. 
 
 The girls could never remember when " Mar- 
 mee " was not brimming over with fun and a quaint 
 humor. There were innumerable household sayings 
 which came direct from her, and which have since 
 grown into family proverbs ; there were funny anec- 
 dotes, to which only she could do justice. She
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 281 
 
 was the soul of hospitality; the fountain-head of 
 every frolic. She had a quick temper under per- 
 fect control, which is better by far than a naturally 
 even disposition which requires no effort at all to 
 subdue, and she taught her girls this golden secret. 
 In " Little Women " Louisa certainly paid royal 
 tribute to her mother, for Marmee stands out in 
 the story a portrait of wonderful light and color. 
 Indeed, every mother Miss Alcott created and she 
 was fond of writing about mothers had " Mar- 
 mee " for a model. 
 
 Had not Mrs. Alcott been such a busy woman 
 she would probably have written, for she had a 
 vivid imagination, keen humor, a poetic streak, and 
 her journals, had they been preserved, would have 
 given to the world interesting records of the family 
 life. Her letters to her children were always 
 simple and sincere, full of an earnest endeavor to 
 lead them in the right way, and the little motherly 
 notes tucked under her pillow did much for Louisa 
 in forming the character of a restless, turbulent and 
 often wayward little girl. So it was hard for those 
 who loved her to stand by while the great soul 
 struggled for release from the frail body. 
 
 Yet while Louisa watched and waited her brain 
 was lively, and her pen flew. She wrote "My 
 Girls " to go with other tales in a new " Scrap-Bag," 
 and finished " Under the Lilacs," one of the bright- 
 est, liveliest, and youngest of her children. She 
 says : " It always takes an exigency to spur me
 
 282 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 up and wring out a book. Never have time to 
 go slowly and do my best." The nursing and anx- 
 iety were such a strain, that fearing she might 
 break down at the last, Louisa got a nurse and 
 rested a little. 
 
 She writes of her mother in October : " We 
 thought she would not outlive her seventy-seventh 
 birthday, but thanks to Dr. W. she got relief, 
 and we had a sad little celebration, well knowing 
 it would be the last. Aunt B. and L. W. came up 
 with fruit and flowers, smiling faces and full hearts, 
 and we sat around the brave soul, who faced death 
 so calmly, and was ready to go. 
 
 " I overdid, and was very ill, in danger of my 
 life for a week, and feared to go before ' Marmee.' 
 But pulled through, and got up slowly to help her 
 die. A strange month ! " 
 
 In November, she was very feeble, and her 
 mother failing fast. On the I4th, the two invalids 
 were removed to Anna's new home, and, on the 25th, 
 " Marmee " died quietly in Louisa's arms. Her 
 daughter writes touchingly of the peaceful hour, 
 while the rain fell gently in the Sabbath stillness 
 and they sat watching the ebbing life. 
 
 " She was very happy all day, thinking herself a 
 girl again with parents and sisters around her. Said 
 her Sunday hymn to me, whom she called ' Mother,' 
 and smiled at us, saying : ' A smile is as good as a 
 prayer.' Looked often at the little picture of May, 
 and waved her hand to it. ' Good-by, little May,
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 283 
 
 good-by! ' Her last words to Father were: ' You 
 are laying a very soft pillow for me to go to sleep 
 on.' " 
 
 She was buried in Sleepy Hollow, close beside 
 Beth, and for a while the two daughters could only 
 sit quietly by, " resting in her rest." The calm of 
 a great despair seemed to fall upon Louisa. 
 
 " My duty is done," she writes, " now I shall be 
 glad to follow. ... I never wish her back, but a 
 great warmth seems gone out of life, and there is 
 no motive to go on now. My only comfort is that 
 I could make her last years comfortable, and lift 
 off the burden she had carried so bravely all these 
 years. She was so loyal, tender, and true; life was 
 hard for her, and no one understood all she had to 
 bear, but we, her children." 
 
 This somber tone was not like Louisa. She was 
 ill, she was passing through a deep grief, and she 
 was weary in body and soul. But a month's reflec- 
 tion made her see things in a clearer light. 
 
 " Father goes about, being restless with his 
 anchor gone. Dear Nan is house-mother now, so 
 patient, thoughtful, and tender; I need nothing but 
 that cherishing which only mothers can give." 
 
 In the beautiful poem, called " Transfiguration," 
 which she wrote in memory of her mother, Louisa 
 showed to what heights her genius could soar when 
 moved by a strong emotion. The last two verses 
 show besides, the love and admiration her mother's 
 character called forth :
 
 284 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Oh, noble woman! never more a queen, 
 Than in the laying down 
 Of scepter and of crown, 
 
 To win a greater kingdom, yet unseen; 
 
 Teaching us how to seek the highest goal, 
 To earn the true success, 
 To live, to love, to bless, 
 
 And make death proud to take a royal soul. 
 
 Both Louisa and her father had this singular 
 trait; when deeply moved by a great emotion or a 
 great grief, they found that poetry came freely to 
 their pens not mere verse or rhyme, but truly 
 inspired thought. " Thoreau's Flute " and those 
 beautiful lines just quoted would of themselves 
 stamp Louisa as a poet, had she written nothing 
 else. But the practical needs of life made her 
 turn resolutely from the " Poet's Corner " where 
 
 "Many a flow'r is born to blush unseen, 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air," 
 
 and where much praise and little money would have 
 been her portion. 
 
 Her writing, as usual, proved her truest consola- 
 tion. " Under the Lilacs," which had been finished 
 at her mother's bedside, was hailed by the younger 
 readers with delight. A boy, two girls, and a dog 
 are enough to make any tale interesting, and 
 Sanch', being such a wonderfully accomplished
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 285 
 
 dog, was considered by many to be the hero of the 
 story. This was the first time Louisa had ever in- 
 dulged her love of animals in public, and she took a 
 great deal of trouble in building her dog on regu- 
 lar circus lines, going to various shows where per- 
 forming dogs were the attraction, in order that 
 Sancho's tricks should be true to life. 
 
 Accepting Sanch',then, as the hero, Louisa, while 
 she certainly put many lifelike touches to her other 
 little characters, did not take them wholly from 
 life; there are many Babs and Bettys in the world; 
 many good, honest, independent Bens. The only 
 " really " real person was the little six-year-old son 
 of F. B. Sanborn who, under the name of Alfred 
 Tennyson Barlow, recited verses of his own compo- 
 sition in the chapter called "A Happy Tea." Here 
 they are: 
 
 "Sweet are the flowers of life, 
 Swept o'er my happy days at home; 
 Sweet are the flowers of life, 
 When I was a little child. 
 
 " Sweet are the flowers of life, 
 That I spent with my father at home; 
 Sweet are the flowers of life, 
 When children played about the house. 
 
 "Sweet are the flowers of life, 
 When the lamps are lighted at night; 
 Sweet are the flowers of life, 
 When the flowers of summer bloomed.
 
 286 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 
 
 " Sweet are the flowers of life, 
 Dead are the snows of winter; 
 Sweet are the flowers of life, 
 When the days of spring come on." 
 
 This was truly the production of Mr. Sanborn's 
 little son at the age of six, and here is another frag- 
 ment he composed, when " digging after turtles." 
 
 " Sweet, sweet days are passing 
 O'er my happy home, 
 
 Passing on swift wings through the valley of life. 
 Cold are the days when winter comes again, 
 When my sweet days were passing at my happy home. 
 Sweet were the days on the rivulet's green brink, 
 Sweet were the days when I read my father's books; 
 Sweet were the winter days when bright fires were blazing." 
 
 The quaintness of the child, the queer chanting 
 ring of the lines, caught Louisa's fancy, so she 
 popped them into her story. 
 
 Her chief care being now her father, she deter- 
 mined that, though late in life, recognition should 
 come to him at last, and it was chiefly through her 
 planning and assistance that the long-dreamed-of 
 School of Philosophy began to take shape. Mr. 
 Alcott was to be the head of it all, and the school, 
 a simple structure, was reared a few years later on 
 the grounds of Orchard House. Here, each year, 
 for several summer weeks, the philosophers would 
 flock, to talk and speculate. Mrs. Cheney says of
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 287 
 
 the school : " The opening was a great event to Mr. 
 Alcott. . . . Louisa enjoyed his gratification and 
 took pains to help him reap full satisfaction from 
 it. She carried flowers to grace the opening meet- 
 ing, and was friendly to his guests. . . . She had 
 not much faith in the experiment. Philosophy was 
 associated in her mind with early poverty and suf- 
 fering, and she did not feel its charms." 
 
 Another interest held her at this time, as bits from 
 her journal will show: " May busy in London," she 
 writes, the January after her mother's death. 
 " Very sad about Marmee; but it was best not to 
 send for her, and Marmee forbade it, and she has 
 some very tender friends near her." 
 
 The sweet breath of this budding romance woke 
 Louisa from her first dull grief, for May illustrated 
 accurately the history of Amy's courtship and mar- 
 riage in " Little Women." It was a pretty love 
 story; the lonely, homesick girl, the handsome lover, 
 and Louisa could not help rejoicing in her happi- 
 ness. She had long suspected the truth, for May 
 had dropped many happy hints in her letters. Mr. 
 Ernest Nieriker was a young Swiss whom May 
 met in London, and between the two the romance 
 began at once. He was very musical, and in the 
 first sad days of May's sorrow his violin soothed 
 her grief, and his quick sympathy touched her heart. 
 In a short time they became engaged, just as in the 
 case of Amy and Laurie, and the letters home were 
 full of this new-found happiness. The marriage
 
 288 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 was very sudden ; business called Mr. Nieriker away 
 from London, and they decided that a hurried wed- 
 ding was better than a long separation. The sim- 
 ple ceremony took place March 22(1, 1878, and Lou- 
 isa writes : 
 
 " A happy event May's marriage to Ernest 
 Nieriker, the ' tender friend ' who has consoled her 
 for Marmee's loss, as John consoled Nan for Beth's. 
 He is a Swiss, handsome, cultivated, and good ; an 
 excellent family, living in Baden, and E. has a good 
 business. May is old enough to choose for herself, 
 and seems so happy in the new relation that we have 
 nothing to say against it. ... Sent her a thousand 
 dollars as a gift, and all good wishes for the new 
 life. 
 
 " April Happy letters from May, who is enjoy- 
 ing life as one can but once. E. writes finely to 
 father, and is a son to welcome, I am sure. May 
 sketches, and E. attends to his business by day, and 
 both revel in music in the evening, as E. is a fine 
 violin player. 
 
 " How different our lives are just now ! I so 
 lonely, sad and sick; she so happy, well and blest. 
 She always had the cream of things, and deserved it. 
 My time is yet to come somewhere else, when I 
 am ready for it. 
 
 " Anna clears out the old house, for we shall 
 never go back to it ; it ceased to be ' home ' when 
 Marmee left it. 
 
 " I dawdle about, and wait to see if I am to live
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 289 
 
 or die. If I live, it is for some new work. I wonder 
 what? " 
 
 Poor Louisa ! to write like that she must indeed 
 have been " sad and lonely," and we are reminded 
 forcibly of poor Jo after Beth's death. It is a cry 
 from the heart, and for the first time in all her busy, 
 useful life, we find ourselves wondering if she would 
 not have been happier with a home, a husband, and 
 little children of her own. 
 
 But the spring drove the cobwebs away, out-of- 
 doors with Nature worked the cure, and real hap- 
 piness in May's happiness revived her spirits. She 
 longed to see May in her pretty home at Mendon, 
 and planned to go there in the fall, but gave up the 
 idea at the last moment, as her health was too un- 
 certain. 
 
 " Nan breaks her leg," she writes, " so it is well 
 I stayed, as there was no one to take her place but 
 me. Always a little chore to be done." 
 
 By the New Year (1879), she was so improved 
 that she was able to go to Boston for a short time, 
 and while there got two books well started ; she was 
 able also to mingle a little with the life about her, 
 but in February she writes : 
 
 " Home to Concord rather used up. Find a 
 very quiet life is best; for in Boston people beset me 
 to do things [such as Jarley's Wax Works for a 
 fair] and I try, and get so tired I cannot work. Dr. 
 C. says rest is my salvation; so I rest. Hope for 
 Paris in the spring, as May begs me to come. She
 
 290 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 is leading what she calls ' an ideal life/ painting, 
 music, love, and the world shut out. People wonder 
 and gossip, but May and Ernest laugh and are 
 happy. Wise people to enjoy this lovely time! " 
 
 She writes of a dinner given by the Papyrus 
 Club, at the Revere House, where she was one of 
 the guests of honor. Dr. Holmes took her in; to 
 her surprise she found herself the specially honored 
 one, sitting at the right hand of the president. 
 
 " Dr. Holmes was very gallant," she writes. 
 " ' Little Women ' often toasted, with more praise 
 than was good for me. 
 
 " Saw Mrs. B. at a lunch, and took her and Mrs. 
 Dodge to Concord for a lunch. Most agreeable 
 women. 
 
 " Pleasant times with my * rainy-day friend,' as 
 I call Dr. W. She is a great comfort to me, with 
 her healthy common-sense, and tender patience, 
 aside from skill as a doctor, and beauty as a woman. 
 I love her much, and she does me good." 
 
 But the poor nerves ached during April, May, 
 and June. 
 
 " Very poorly and cross ; so tired of being a pris- 
 oner to pain. Long for the old strength, when I 
 could do what I liked, and never knew I had a 
 body. Life not worth living this way; but having 
 overworked the wonderful machine, I must pay for 
 it, and should not growl, I suppose, as it is just." 
 
 In August, she took a new " Scrap-Bag " book 
 to Boston, a collection of tales headed by " Jimmie's
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 291 
 
 Cruise on the Pinafore." In September, she came 
 home from the seaside, much refreshed, and ready 
 for work on a new serial for St. Nicholas, " Jack 
 and Jill." 
 
 " Have no plan yet," she writes, " but a boy, a 
 girl, and a sled, with an upset to start with. Vague 
 idea of working in Concord young folks and their 
 doings. After two years of rest I am going to try 
 again; it is so easy to make money now, and so 
 pleasant to have it to give. A chapter a day is my 
 task, and not that, if I feel tired. No more four- 
 teen hours a day ; make haste slowly now. 
 
 " May sent some nice little letters of an ' Artist's 
 Holiday,' and I had them printed; also a book for 
 artists abroad very useful and well done." 
 
 " October 8th Dear Marmee's birthday. Never 
 forgotten. Lovely day. Go to Sleepy Hollow with 
 flowers. Her grave is green ; blackberry vines with 
 red leaves trail over it. A little white stone with 
 her initials is at the head, and among the tall grasses 
 over her breast a little bird had made a nest ; empty 
 now, but a pretty symbol of the refuge that tender 
 bosom always was for all feeble and sweet things. 
 Her favorite asters bloomed all about, and the pines 
 sang overhead. So she and dear Beth are quietly 
 asleep in God's Acre, and we remember them more 
 tenderly each year that brings us nearer them and 
 home." 
 
 " Jack and Jill " created a stir in Concord when 
 it became known Miss Alcott was drawing the
 
 292 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 youngsters of the town. All were interested, all 
 wanted to " go in," and all wanted to be angels. 
 A difficult task to place them, but she enjoyed it 
 and did the best she could. 
 
 She found that her stories were accomplishing 
 another mission, that their simplicity and sweetness 
 had power to touch hardened hearts, and glad al- 
 ways to give the best she had to those who needed 
 it, she went to the Men's Prison in Concord with 
 her father, where she was heartily welcomed and 
 her stories found eager listeners, and later she drove 
 to the Woman's Prison at Sherburne, where she 
 read a story to four hundred women, who doubtless 
 blessed this gracious sister as she went among them, 
 listening to their own pitiful tales. 
 
 Several years after, a young man came to see her. 
 He was just out of the old Concord Prison, and he 
 wanted to thank her for the little story she had told 
 during her visit. It had put new heart into him, for 
 his offense had been but slight a theft committed 
 while drunk and after his three years' sentence 
 he had come out eager to atone for this one fault. 
 As usual, Miss Alcott helped him by word and deed, 
 her heart warmed and touched by the man's earnest- 
 ness. 
 
 On the 8th of November, little Miss Louisa May 
 Nieriker came smiling into the world, and made all 
 hearts glad. There was great rejoicing in the 
 Alcott household, while in the little nest across the 
 water a strange hush brooded. Joy in the new-
 
 MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 293 
 
 comer was swallowed up in anxiety for her mother. 
 May did not improve as rapidly as they had hoped, 
 and, in December, Louisa writes : 
 
 " May not doing well. The weight on my heart 
 was not all imagination. She was too happy to 
 have it last, and I fear the end is coming. Hope 
 it is my nerves; but this peculiar feeling has never 
 misled me before." 
 
 And surely it did not fail her now; the bright, 
 joyous life went out with the old year on the 29th. 
 The sad news reached home on the 3ist. 
 
 " A dark day for us," writes Louisa. " A tele- 
 gram from Ernest to Mr. Emerson tells us * May 
 is dead/ " 
 
 Louisa was alone when their kind friend came to 
 break the news. Anna had gone to Boston, Mr. 
 Alcott was at the post-office anxiously awaiting let- 
 ters which were overdue. But the philosopher had 
 no words to ease the force of the blow. 
 
 " My child, I wish I could prepare you," he 
 faltered, and then Louisa knew, and something in 
 her heart seemed to break, as it had never done 
 before. 
 
 " The dear baby may comfort Ernest," she writes, 
 " but what can comfort us ? It is the distance that 
 is so hard, and the thought of so much happiness 
 ended so soon. ' Two years of perfect happiness ' 
 May called these married years. She wished me to 
 have her baby and her pictures. A very precious 
 legacy. Rich payment for the little I could do for
 
 294 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 her. I see now why I lived to care for May's 
 child, and not leave Anna all alone." 
 
 In the darkness of her sorrow, this thought com- 
 forted her. God had spared her still to be the staff 
 of the few left behind. On January i, 1880, she 
 writes : 
 
 " A sad day mourning for May. Of all the 
 trials in my life, I never felt any so keenly as this ; 
 perhaps because I am so feeble in health that I 
 cannot bear it well. It seems so hard to break up 
 that happy little home, and take May, just when life 
 was richest, and leave me who had done my task, 
 and could well be spared." 
 
 Ah, Louisa, your task is not done! There's a 
 baby coming from across the sea to brighten what 
 is left of your life. There is a father to be cared 
 for in his gentle, helpless old age, and a sister left 
 on whom to lavish a rich measure of love. There 
 are thousands of children yet to write for, and much 
 to make life worth the living. 
 
 She felt this like the truly pious woman she was. 
 No matter how heavy her cross, she was strong 
 enough to bear it. She had miles to trudge before 
 reaching her goal, so she lifted her burden once 
 more, with the same courage as in the old childish 
 days, when the four little sisters toiled up the hill 
 toward the Celestial City.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 
 
 truly mourned the death of 
 May Alcott. Her many attractions had 
 made her a great favorite, and she 
 was a leading spirit in the town. De- 
 voted to her art, she tried to form an art center in 
 Concord, placing her time and her studio at the dis- 
 posal of anyone whose talent turned that way. She 
 was specially kind to Daniel Chester French, the 
 well-known sculptor of " The Minute Man," of 
 whose budding genius she had great hopes, and it 
 was she who gave him his first modeling clay. She 
 would have been a great artist had she lived, for 
 her pictures, even the copies, tell a story of real 
 talent. 
 
 Miss Alcott wrote to Mrs. Dodge : 
 
 "January 20, 1880. 
 " DEAR MRS. DODGE : 
 
 " I have been so bowed down with grief at the 
 loss of my dear sister, just when our anxiety was 
 over, that I have not had a thought or care for any- 
 thing else. 
 
 "The story ["Jack and Jill"] is done; but the 
 20 295
 
 296 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 last chapters are not copied, and I thought it best to 
 let them lie till I could give my mind to the work. 
 
 " I never get a good chance to do a story without 
 interruption of some sort. * Under the Lilacs ' was 
 finished by my mother's bedside in her last illness, 
 and this one, when my heart was full of care and 
 hope, and then grief over poor May. 
 
 " I trust the misery did not get into the story ; 
 but I'm afraid it is not as gay as I meant most of it 
 to be. ... 
 
 " I don't believe I shall come to New York this 
 winter. May left me her little daughter for my 
 own; and if she comes over soon, I shall be too busy 
 singing lullabies to one child to write tales for 
 others, or go anywhere, even to see my kind friends. 
 
 " A sweeter little romance has just ended in Paris 
 than any I can ever make, and the sad facts of life 
 leave me no heart for cheerful fiction. 
 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 " L. M. ALCOTT." 
 
 In March, came a box full of mementoes of May ; 
 her pictures, clothes, ornaments, and her sunny hair, 
 tied with blue ribbon. It was a 'sad day for them, 
 full of memories and tears; but even sad days can- 
 not last forever, and Louisa's heart began to turn 
 longingly toward her little namesake over the sea. 
 But prudent grandmamma Nieriker suggested that 
 the fall would be the best time for so young a trav- 
 eler to venture across the Atlantic.
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 297 
 
 This was a hope to build on, something to look 
 forward to, and Louisa set to work at once to pre- 
 pare for her baby, with all the loving forethought 
 of a mother. Little Lulu was to be brought by her 
 Aunt Sophie, who had promised May to see her dar- 
 ling safe with " Aunt Weedy," and Miss Alcott, 
 wishing to relieve her of some of the care, sent over 
 a responsible woman to help her. In the meantime 
 the threads of work were slowly picked up, and St. 
 Nicholas by degrees became the chief market for 
 her stories. Her brain, active once more, was full 
 of new plans and ideas; many of these went into 
 short stories, for as yet she would not bind herself 
 to anything more. 
 
 " If I write a serial," she wrote Mrs. Dodge, 
 " you shall have it ; but I have my doubts as to the 
 leisure and quiet, needed for such tasks, being pos- 
 sible with a year-old baby. Of course little Lu is 
 a very remarkable child, but I fancy I shall feel as 
 full of responsibility as a hen with one chick, and 
 cluck and scratch industriously for the sole benefit 
 of my daughter. She may, however, have a literary 
 turn, and be my assistant, by offering hints and giv- 
 ing studies of character for my work. She comes 
 in September, if well. 
 
 " If I do begin a new story, how would ' An Old- 
 Fashioned Boy ' and his life do? I meant that for 
 the title of a book, but another woman took it. You 
 proposed a Revolutionary tale once, but I was not 
 up to it; for this, I have quaint material in my
 
 298 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 father's journals, letters, and recollections. He was 
 born with the century, and had an uncle in the War 
 of 1812; and his life was very pretty and pastoral 
 in the early days. I think a new sort of story 
 wouldn't be amiss, with fun in it, and the queer old 
 names and habits. I began it long ago, and if I 
 have a chance, will finish off a few chapters and 
 send them to you if you like. 
 
 " Yours cordially, 
 
 " L. M. ALCOTT." 
 
 It had been a dream of Louisa's to build a lengthy 
 story around her father's boyhood. She always felt 
 that his riper years had not been appreciated, and 
 she longed to bring him before the public as him- 
 self not as the grandfather of " Little Women." 
 But after all, the book was never written. New in- 
 terests came crowding into her life, baby arms were 
 soon to be flung around her neck demanding " more 
 towries, Aunt Wee-wee," and her thoughts went 
 back to the stories that had pleased children in the 
 bygone days. 
 
 In April, she was feeling so " sad and poorly " 
 that she went to Boston for a change, which she 
 seemed to enjoy. It was during this visit that thirty 
 girls from Boston University called upon her. She 
 forgot her aches, told them stories, showed them 
 pictures, and wrote autographs. 
 
 " Pleasant to see so much innocent enthusiasm, 
 even about so poor a thing as a used-up old woman.
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 299 
 
 Bright girls! Simple in dress, sensible ideas of life, 
 and love of education. I wish them all good luck." 
 
 May and June were full of varied interest. They 
 were now comfortably settled in Anna's house, and 
 were preparing the old Orchard House for its new 
 tenant, Mr. W. T. Harris. Louisa was never idle 
 when at home. She writes about a huge picnic : 
 
 " North End Mission Children at Walden Pond. 
 Help give them a happy day eleven hundred of 
 them. Get Anna and John off to Walpole. Cleaned 
 house." 
 
 The last item did not mean that she overlooked 
 the servants, but that she " turned in " herself, with 
 her own capable hands. 
 
 " June 24th Lizzie's birthday and Johnny's. He 
 is fifteen, a lovely, good boy, whom everyone loves. 
 Got the Dean [her father's title as head of the 
 School of Philosophy] a new suit of clothes, as he 
 must be nice for his duties at the school. Plato's 
 toga was not so costly, but even he did not look bet- 
 ter than my handsome old philosopher. 
 
 "July and August To York with boys. Rest 
 and enjoy the fine air. Home in August, and let 
 Anna go down. Four hundred callers since the 
 school began. . . ." 
 
 From York, she wrote to Mr. Niles about the new 
 illustrated edition of " Little Women " : 
 
 " York, July 20, 1880 The drawings are all 
 capital, and we had great fun over them down here
 
 300 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 this rainy day. . . . Mr. Merrill certainly deserves a 
 good penny for his work. Such a fertile fancy and 
 quick hand as his should be well paid, and I shall 
 not begrudge him his well-earned compensation, nor 
 the praise I am sure these illustrations will earn. It 
 is very pleasant to think that the lucky little story 
 has been of use to a fellow-worker, and I am much 
 obliged to him for so improving on my hasty pen- 
 and-ink sketches. What a dear, rowdy boy Teddy 
 is, with the felt basin on. ... Come and see how 
 cozy we are next October, at 80 Pinckney Street. 
 Miss N. will receive. 
 
 " Yours truly, L. M. A." 
 
 " Got things ready for my baby, warm wrapper, 
 and all the dear can need on her long journey. On 
 the 2ist saw Mrs. Giles [who went for baby] off; 
 the last time I went it was to see May go. She was 
 sober and sad, not gay as before ; seemed to feel it 
 might be a longer voyage than we knew. The last 
 view I had of her was standing alone, in the long 
 blue cloak, waving her hand to us, smiling with 
 wet eyes till out of sight. How little we dreamed 
 what an experience of love, joy, pain, and death she 
 was going to ! 
 
 " September Put papers in order, and arrange 
 things generally, to be in order when our Lulu 
 comes. Make a cozy nursery for the darling, and 
 say my prayers over the little white crib that waits 
 for her."
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 301 
 
 On the 1 8th, Miss Alcott went to Boston to meet 
 the steamer, due on the i9th. She waited on the 
 wharf with a full heart, watching for her baby, and 
 wondering if she could pick her out from among the 
 many she saw coming off the ship. At last the cap- 
 tain appeared, holding in his arms a tiny, yellow- 
 haired creature, all in white, who looked about her 
 with lively blue eyes, and chattered in her baby way. 
 Mrs. Giles walked beside her, and close behind came 
 Aunt Sophie, " A lovely, brown-eyed girl." 
 
 The meeting is best described in Miss Alcott's 
 own words : 
 
 " I held out my arms to Lulu, only being able to 
 say her name. She looked at me for a moment, then 
 came to me, saying ' Marmar ' in a wistful way, 
 resting close, as if she had found her own people 
 and home at last as she had, thank Heaven! I 
 could only listen while I held her, and the others 
 told their tale. Then we got home as soon as we 
 could, and dear baby behaved very well, though 
 hungry and tired. 
 
 " The little princess was received with tears and 
 smiles, and being washed and fed, went quietly to 
 sleep in her new bed, while we brooded over her, 
 and were never tired of looking at the little face of 
 ' May's baby.' " 
 
 Little Lulu quickly found her place in the hearts 
 of the family. She was not beautiful at first, but 
 she blossemed out wonderfully when the sea tan left 
 her face, and the yellow hair looked less like the
 
 302 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 down of a chicken. " A happy thing, laughing and 
 waving her hands, confiding and bold, with a keen 
 look in the eyes so like May, who hated shams, 
 and saw through them at once. She always conies 
 to me, and seems to have decided that I am really 
 ' Marmar.' My heart is full of pride and joy, and 
 the touch of the dear little hands seems to take away 
 the bitterness of grief. I often go at night to see 
 if she is really here, and the sight of the little head 
 is like sunshine to me. Father adores her, and she 
 loves to sit in his strong arms. They make a pretty 
 picture, as he walks in the garden with her to ' see 
 birdies.' Anna tends her as she did May, who was 
 her baby once, being ten years younger, and we all 
 find life easier to live, now the baby has come." 
 
 The young sister-in-law proved most attractive, 
 and as Concord was dull for a girl who had been 
 used to much gayety, Louisa decided to take a house 
 in town for the winter, where she and the boys 
 could have a pleasant time. 
 
 Her mind was free to enjoy her baby and her new 
 friend, for " Jack and Jill " supplied the needs of 
 her exacting young readers for a time at least. 
 
 Only a simple tale, of simple country life, sweet 
 and wholesome as a sound apple. Her dedication 
 
 " TO THE SCHOOLMATES 
 
 Of 
 ELLSWORTH DEVENS, 
 
 whose lovely character will not soon be forgotten,"
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 303 
 
 tells something of the story, for Ed Devlin is surely 
 none other than the lamented comrade of the Con- 
 cord boys and girls. In Mrs, Minot we have her sis- 
 ter Anna, for Minot was a name that took root in 
 the Pratt family, and the two boys, Frank and Jack, 
 were most certainly her nephews, Fred and John. 
 
 All their favorite nooks and out-of-the-way cor- 
 ners she described most vividly. 
 
 To those familiar with Concord and its neighbor- 
 hood, the story no doubt holds added interest. Mer- 
 ry and Molly and Jill are such real girls, that we 
 should like to know their living models, while Baby 
 Boo was too lively for a " make-believe " boy. Har- 
 mony Village of course meant Concord, and the 
 tranquil river, with its wooded shores and distant 
 hills, its cool, rippling breezes and its beautiful sun- 
 sets, has ever been a favorite playground for the 
 young ones of the village. 
 
 The tale grows grave in parts, owing to the 
 author's heavy heart, but in the chapter called " A 
 Sweet Memory," a tribute to the memory of her 
 favorite Ellsworth Devens, we gather something of 
 the simple beauty of Miss Alcott's own creed; for 
 this may be said of her, as it can be said of few, 
 she practiced as she preached, and the same peace- 
 fulness which stole into the children's hearts after 
 the burial of their friend was her own, as she dried 
 her eyes and " remembered her mercies.' 
 
 The baby made her young, the tired brain found 
 rest in planning infant tales; new plays had to be
 
 304 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 invented, new romps instituted ; of course she turned 
 for help to the boys, and the new life stirred her 
 blood. 
 
 Lulu's first birthday was a trying time, remem- 
 bering what her coming had cost them, but the 
 birthday ceremonies were all kept. There was a 
 cake with one candle, a crown for the queen, a silver 
 mug, picture books, toys, flowers, and plenty of 
 sunshine for Baby Lu. 
 
 The next years passed uneventfully; playing 
 mother was great fun, and in bringing up the little 
 girl, Louisa used many of the methods which had 
 proved so successful with herself and her sisters. 
 Her old cheerfulness gradually came back to her, 
 and though her days revolved about her child, they 
 were happy days. In a letter to a friend she writes 
 of Lulu : " I wish you could see the pretty creature, 
 who already shows many of her mother's traits and 
 tastes. Her love of pictures is a passion, but she 
 will not look at the gay ones most babies enjoy. 
 She chooses the delicate, well-drawn, and painted 
 figures of Caldecott and Miss Greenaway. Over 
 these she broods with rapture, pointing her little 
 fingers at the cows or cats, and kissing the chil- 
 dren, with funny prattling to these dumb playmates. 
 She is a fine, tall girl, full of energy, intelligence 
 and health; blonde and blue-eyed like her mother, 
 but with her father's features, for which I am glad, 
 for he is a handsome man. Louisa May bids fair 
 to be a noble woman, and I hope I may live to see
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 305 
 
 May's child as brave, and bright, and talented as 
 she was, and much happier in her fate." 
 
 On Lulu's second birthday, she had two kisses, a 
 cake with two candles, a new chair and a doll's car- 
 riage, toys, pictures, and flowers. She was escorted 
 downstairs in state, and petted and purred over all 
 day. She was a sweet, generous child, with strong 
 affections. On one occasion a poor woman from 
 Illinois wrote Miss Alcott, begging her to send some 
 Christmas gifts to her children, as she could not 
 afford to buy any. They had asked her to write 
 to Santa Claus, and so she applied to Miss Alcott, 
 who sent a box, and wrote a story about it; little 
 Lulu was much interested and wanted to give every- 
 thing she had to " poor little boys." 
 
 Quite early the young lady learned where flowed 
 the story-telling fountain, and "Aunt Wee-wee" 
 was taxed sometimes a dozen a day. Anything 
 about lambs, piggies, and " tats " was immensely 
 enjoyed, and certainly the big aunt and little niece 
 had many interesting times together. 
 
 In April, 1882, Mr. Emerson was ill, and Mr. 
 Alcott went to see him. Emerson had been the sun- 
 shine of his life for many years, he had believed in 
 him when others had only laughed ; he had helped 
 him in his need, in a hundred gentle, quiet ways, and 
 had been to them all the kindest and truest of 
 friends. Now the useful life was coming to an end, 
 and there was deep sorrow in Concord. On April 
 27th, Louisa writes in her journal :
 
 306 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 "Mr. Emerson died at 9 P.M. suddenly. Our 
 best and greatest American gone. The nearest and 
 dearest friend father ever had, and the man who has 
 helped me most, by his life, his books, his society. 
 I can never tell all he has been to me, from the time 
 I sang Mignon's song under his window (a little 
 girl) and wrote letters, a la Bettine, to him, my 
 Goethe, at fifteen, up through my hard years when 
 his essays on Self-Reliance, Character, Compensa- 
 tion, Love, and Friendship helped me to understand 
 myself, and Life, and God, and Nature. Illustrious 
 and beloved friend, good-by! 
 
 " Sunday, joth Emerson's funeral. I made a 
 yellow lyre of jonquils for the church, and helped 
 trim it up. Private services at the house, and a 
 great crowd at the church. Father read his sonnet, 
 and Judge Hoar and others spoke. Now he lies in 
 Sleepy Hollow among his brothers, under the 
 pines he loved." 
 
 Louisa sat up till midnight writing an article on 
 Emerson, for The Youth's Companion, that the chil- 
 dren might know something of him, and the power 
 he was in the world. 
 
 From time to time, she has put her memory of 
 him into articles for different periodicals. There 
 was no halfway admiration for this great thinker ; he 
 had been her idol from the time she first grasped 
 what greatness really was, until the brilliant light 
 went out forever. Naturally she used his name and 
 example in making Concord a temperance town,
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 307 
 
 for in May, twenty-seven boys signed the pledge. 
 The reform was much needed there, and Louisa 
 worked for the cause with all her old energy. 
 
 In June, she paid a sad little visit to Alice Bartlett, 
 their companion on the trip abroad. " A queer 
 time," she writes, " driving about, or talking over 
 our year in Europe. School children called upon 
 me, with flowers, and so forth. 
 
 " June 24th John's seventeenth birthday. A 
 dear boy, good and gay, full of love, manliness, and 
 all honest and lovely traits, like his father and 
 mother. Long life to my boy ! " 
 
 In July, the School of Philosophy opened in full 
 force. " The first year," writes Miss Alcott, " Con- 
 cord people stood aloof, and the strangers found it 
 hard to get rooms. Now everyone is eager to take 
 them, and the school is pronounced a success, be- 
 cause it brings money to the town. Even philos- 
 ophers can't do without food, beds, and washing, so 
 all rejoice, and the new craze flourishes. If all our 
 guests paid we should be well off; several hundred 
 a month is rather wearing. Father asked why we 
 never went, and Anna showed him a long list of 
 four hundred names of callers, and he said no 
 more." 
 
 In October, she went to Boston with John, for a 
 short stay, leaving Lulu at home; she needed the 
 quiet, though she missed her baby. She took rooms 
 at the Bellevue, her haven of rest, and she began to 
 think of stories once more. Mrs. Dodge wanted a
 
 308 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 serial, and " Jo's Boys " suggested itself to her 
 mind. She had scarcely made a good beginning, 
 however, when a telegram called her home. Mr. 
 Alcott had a paralytic stroke, which left him dumb 
 and helpless. The change in the life of the active 
 old man was very pathetic, and his. family became 
 anxious about him. His daughter writes: 
 
 " The forty sonnets of last winter, and the fifty 
 lectures at the school last summer, were too much 
 for a man of eighty-three. He was warned by Dr. 
 W., but thought it folly to stop; and now poor 
 Father pays the penalty of breaking the laws of 
 health. I have done the same ; may I be spared this 
 end!" 
 
 It was a strange thing about Louisa and her 
 work; given a quiet, even stretch, with no care nor 
 worry, her fancy flowed tranquilly, and the results 
 were not noticed ; but a serious illness always acted 
 as a mental spur. It was her time for story-telling, 
 for, as we well know, her best tales were written 
 under high pressure. Her father's slow improve- 
 ment gave her an opportunity to slip away to Boston 
 once in a while, and on one of these trips she began 
 a book called " Genius." 
 
 " Shall never finish it, I dare say, but must keep 
 a vent for my fancies to escape at. This double life 
 is trying, and my head will work as well as my 
 hands." 
 
 She took Lulu to Boston for a month, to the little 
 girl's delight, for Boston was a new world to her,
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 309 
 
 and she enjoyed the walks and the petting she got 
 from everyone. 
 
 On April 6th, she went home to stay ; her father 
 needed her, and the housekeeping was too heavy a 
 burden for Anna alone. She wrote a story for St. 
 Nicholas at odd moments, and during that summer 
 took care of Lulu, for a competent nurse was hard 
 to find, " so my poor baby has a bad time, with her 
 little temper and active mind and body. Could do it 
 myself if I had the nerves and strength, but am 
 needed elsewhere, and must leave the child to some 
 one. Long to go away with her and do as I like. 
 Shall never lead my own life." 
 
 " July Go to Nonquitt with Miss H. and Lulu 
 for the summer. A quiet, healthy place, with pleas- 
 ant people and fine air. Turn Lulu loose, with H. 
 to run after her, and try to rest. 
 
 " Lulu takes her first bath in the sea very bad ; 
 walks off toward Europe up to her neck, and is 
 much afflicted that I won't let her go to the bottom 
 and see the ' little trabs ' ; makes a cupid of herself 
 and is very pretty and gay. The boys revel in the 
 simple pleasures of Nonquitt a fine place for them 
 to be in." 
 
 Hereafter, Nonquitt was to them all a haven of 
 delight. Louisa was persuaded to buy a home there, 
 and as the place was swarming with young people, 
 she was in her element, and never happier than when 
 among them. The days were spent on the beach, 
 watching the bathers and sunning herself in the
 
 310 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 sands. The evenings were gay with charades and 
 private theatricals. The two boys had the family 
 talent, Fred in particular being an excellent come- 
 dian, and though Louisa's acting was a thing of 
 the past, on account of the exertion, Anna occasion- 
 ally took old women's parts, and the youngsters 
 came in for a fine drilling. And here her eldest 
 nephew had his first sip of a real romance, which 
 blossomed later into true love and a happy marriage. 
 Miss Alcott writes to her friend, Mrs. Williams, of 
 Nonquitt and its charms : 
 
 "... My poppet is a picture of health, vigor, 
 and delightful naughtiness. She runs wild in this 
 fine place, with some twenty other children to play 
 with, nice babies, well bred, with pleasant mammas 
 for me to gossip with. 
 
 " It would be a pleasant place for your little peo- 
 ple, as the air is delicious, bathing safe and warm, 
 and cottages to be quiet in, if one cares to keep 
 house. Do try it next year. Let me know early. 
 I can get a nice little cot for you (near mine) for 
 one hundred dollars or perhaps less, from June to 
 October if you care to stay. 
 
 " We have been here since July, and are all 
 hearty, brown, and gay as larks. Lulu has some 
 trifling ailment now and then just enough to show 
 me how dear she is to us all, and what a great void 
 the loss of our little girl would make in hearts and 
 home. She is very intelligent and droll. When I 
 told her the other day that the crickets were hopping
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 311 
 
 and singing in the grass with their mammas, she 
 said at once : ' No, their Aunt Weedys.' Auntie is 
 nearer than Mother to the poor baby and it is very 
 sweet to have it so, since it must be." 
 
 " The older birthdays are 2Qth of November, 
 Lulu's the 8th ; so we celebrate for Grandpa, Auntie, 
 and Lulu all at once, in great style eighty-three, 
 fifty, and three years old. 
 
 " When I get on my pins, I am going to devote 
 myself to settling poor souls who need a gentle 
 boost in hard times." 
 
 The history of the next few years is pleasant and 
 tranquil. Mr. Alcott slowly rallied from his first 
 attack, and Louisa spent her time between Concord 
 and Boston, sometimes feeling like her old self, 
 sometimes so weary and nervous, that it took all 
 her courage to get along. John and Lulu were 
 her stand-bys at such times ; the boy so tender and 
 strong to lean upon, the little girl so sweet and 
 winning. Miss Alcott did not believe in hard meas- 
 ures with children, but in January, 1884, she writes : 
 " New Year Day is made memorable by my 
 solemnly spanking my child. Miss C. [her gover- 
 ness] and others assure me it is the only way to 
 cure her wilfulness. I doubt it; but knowing that 
 mothers are usually too tender and blind, I correct 
 my dear in the old-fashioned way. She proudly 
 says : ' Do it, do it/ and when it is done, is heart- 
 21
 
 312 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 broken at the idea of Aunt Wee-wee's giving her 
 pain. Her bewilderment is pathetic, and the effect, 
 as I expected, a failure. Love is better, but also 
 endless patience." 
 
 The history of her work is very fitful. " Jo's 
 Boys " was still in progress, as it was destined to be 
 for some years, for the tired, overworked brain 
 could not stand much. She busied herself with short 
 stories for St. Nicholas, and collecting the many she 
 had on hand into book form. The best known of 
 these story-books compiled at that time are " Spin- 
 ning- Wheel Stories" and "Proverb Stories." "Lu- 
 lu's Library " came later, and a " Garland for 
 Girls " the last of all. Concerning the " Spinning- 
 Wheel Stories," she wrote Mrs. Dodge : 
 
 " I like the idea of " Spinning- Wheel Stories," 
 and can do several for a series, which can come out 
 in a book later. Old-time tales, with a thread run- 
 ning through all, from the wheel that enters in the 
 first one. 
 
 " A Christmas party of children might be at an 
 old farmhouse, and hunt up the wheel, and grandma 
 spins and tells the first story ; and being snow-bound, 
 others amuse the young folks each evening with 
 more tales. . . . 
 
 " Be.ing at home and quiet for a week or so, ... 
 I have begun the serial, and done two chapters ; but 
 the Spinning tales come tumbling into my mind so 
 fast, I'd better pin a few while ' genius burns.' Per- 
 haps you would like to start the set Christmas. The
 
 NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 313 
 
 picture being ready, the first story can be done in a 
 week. ' Sophie's Secret ' can come later. 
 
 " The serial was to be ' Mrs. Gay's Summer 
 School,' and have some city girls and boys go to an 
 old farmhouse, and, for fun, dress and live as in 
 old times, and learn the good, thrifty, old ways, with 
 adventures and fun thrown in. That might come 
 in the spring as it takes me longer to grind yarns 
 now than of old. 
 
 "Glad you are better. Thanks for the kind 
 wishes for the little house; come and see it, and 
 gladden the eyes of forty young admirers by a sight 
 of M.M.D. next year." 
 
 In another letter, headed 31 Chestnut Street, 
 December 3ist, she writes: "A little cousin, thir- 
 teen years old, has written a story and longs to see 
 it in print. It is a well-written bit, and pretty good 
 for a beginner, so I send it to you, hoping it may 
 find a place in the children's corner. She is a grand- 
 child of S. J. May, and a bright lass, who paints 
 nicely, and is a domestic little person in spite of her 
 budding accomplishments. Good luck to her. 
 
 " I hoped to have a Christmas story for someone, 
 but am forbidden to write for six months, after a 
 bad turn of vertigo. So I give it up and take warn- 
 ing. All good wishes for the New Year. 
 " From yours affectionately, 
 
 " L. M. ALCOTT." 
 
 After this Miss Alcott was more or less under the
 
 314 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 doctor's orders. In another letter to Mrs. Dodge, 
 she says: 
 
 " I cannot promise anything, but hope to be al- 
 lowed to write a little, as my doctor has decided that 
 it is as well to let me put on paper the tales ' knock- 
 ing at the saucepan lid and demanding to be taken 
 out ' (like Mrs, Crotchet's potatoes) as to have them 
 go on worrying me inside. So I'm scribbling at 
 ' Jo's Boys ' long promised to Mr. Niles, and 
 clamored for by the children. I may write but one 
 hour a day, so cannot get on very fast; but if it 
 is ever done, I can think of a serial for St. Nicholas, 
 and can easily start it for '88, if head and hand 
 allow. I will simmer on it this summer, and see if 
 it can be done. Hope so, for I don't want to give 
 up work so soon." 
 
 Poor Louisa! in harness to the last! Her work 
 had become as dear to her heart as if it were her 
 own flesh and blood ; to give it up would be like 
 yielding a part of her life. She was not an old 
 woman; with health she would have been in her 
 prime, with a brain as strong and energetic and far 
 better stored than in the old days of " pot-boilers " 
 and scanty pay. But the engine panted even on the 
 level grade, and the reckless engineer had to slacken 
 speed, and yield the throttle into other hands.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 
 
 !HE next few years were records of wan- 
 ing strength, care for her father, delight 
 in the little girl, clinging to the one sister 
 left her, and joy and pride in " the boys." 
 They were young men now, and a great comfort. 
 John she decided to adopt. She knew that, with 
 herself and her father, the Alcott name would die 
 out, and in making John her legal " son and heir " 
 it was with the stipulation that he should take the 
 name of Alcott. 
 
 After years of struggle with ill-health, " Jo's 
 Boys," her last promise to the eager public, saw the 
 light. In reading the book, so full of memories, 
 we truly begin to realize that nearly twenty years 
 had passed since the publication of " Little Women," 
 and that the young people who pored over those 
 fascinating pages were now grave men and women, 
 bending their heads in absorbed interest over " Jo's 
 Boys." 
 
 Her preface is pathetic when we look back on the 
 pages of her life : 
 
 " Having been written at long intervals during the 
 315
 
 316 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 past seven years, this story is more faulty than its 
 predecessors, but the desire to atone for an unavoid- 
 able disappointment, and to please my patient little 
 friends, has urged me to let it go without delay. 
 
 " To account for the seeming neglect of Amy, let 
 me add, that since the original of the character died, 
 it has been impossible for me to write of her, as 
 when she was here to suggest, criticise, and laugh 
 over her namesake. The same excuse applies to 
 Marmee. But the folded leaves are not blank to 
 those who knew and -loved them, and can find me- 
 morials of them in whatever is cheerful, true, or 
 helpful in these pages." 
 
 The story was completed at her sister's home in 
 Concord. The old house had grown into a most at- 
 tractive dwelling, its yellow tint standing out clear 
 cut amid the evergreens surrounding it. Miss 
 Alcott had improved it from time to time, until 
 Thoreau himself would scarcely have recognized its 
 interior. 
 
 Mr. Alcott's library, which had been one of the 
 additions, was built back of the drawing-room, and 
 was a most delightful place, with its low ceilings, 
 well-lined bookshelves, and interesting mementoes 
 of the family. Just above the library was Louisa's 
 special sanctum, a large sunny room overlooking the 
 beloved river, with its background of hills. Each 
 window framed a beautiful picture, and safe in this 
 retreat, the literary spider could spin her web un- 
 disturbed, and here " Jo's Boys " rounded itself out
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 
 
 317 
 
 to the desired end. She winds up the story in this 
 fashion : 
 
 "And now having endeavored to suit everyone 
 by many weddings, few deaths, and as much pros- 
 perity as the eternal fitness of things will permit, let 
 the music stop, the lights die out, and the curtain 
 fall forever on the March family." 
 
 This was sadly prophetic ; with the completion of 
 "Jo's Boys," her real work ended. There were 
 short stories now and then, " A Garland for Girls " 
 being written as a pastime while under the doctor's 
 care. In the writing of "Jo's Boys," the usual 
 " vortex " threatened, but an attack of vertigo 
 frightened her into a week's illness, with sleepless 
 nights. " Head worked like a steam engine," she 
 writes, " would not stop. Planned * Jo's Boys ' to 
 the end, and longed to get up and write it. Told 
 Dr. W. that he had better let me get the idea out, 
 then I could rest. He very wisely agreed, and said : 
 ' As soon as you can, write half an hour a day and 
 see if it does you good. Rebellious brains want to 
 be attended to, or trouble comes.' So I began as 
 soon as able, and was satisfied we were right, for 
 my head felt better very soon, and with much care 
 about not overdoing, I had some pleasant hours 
 when I forgot my body and lived in my mind." 
 
 After that, she wrote one or two hours a day and 
 felt no ill effects. During the winter of 1886, Miss 
 Alcott took a furnished house in Boston. It was 
 delightfully situated in Louisburg Square, and all
 
 318 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 were pleased with the arrangement. Anna could be 
 near her boys, who were in business, Louisa could 
 have her child and work as well, and poor, feeble 
 Mr. Alcott would enjoy the change. 
 
 Whenever there was a move and the Alcott 
 family could never stay on and on in the same place 
 the rummaging spirit came upon Louisa. This 
 time it took the form of sorting and burning letters 
 too private for the gossip lovers to print. This was 
 not good for her ; for days she lived over her past 
 they were only simple annals, to be sure, a mingling 
 of dead rose leaves with the scent of lavender 
 but these old memories stayed her hand, and she be- 
 gan to think that it might be well to keep some rec- 
 ord of her life, that others might read and profit by 
 her experience. It was this kindly thought for the 
 coming generations that gave to the lovers of her 
 books a closer view of the author. So we see her 
 first impulse was to destroy all record of herself; 
 but, living for others as she had done all her life, 
 she paused in time. 
 
 The portraits in " Jo's Boys " are very lifelike. 
 Jo has grown older, but like Louisa herself, never 
 too old to be a girl at heart ; Meg mellowed with 
 the years into a sweet and tender matron ; the boys 
 and girls had all grown up, fulfilling their separate 
 destinies in their own way, and her pet black sheep, 
 the untamable Dan, worked his own salvation in 
 the end. 
 
 Even the School of Philosophy had its portrait
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 319 
 
 painted in a flattering way, for it rose as a college 
 on the hilltop, and Mr. Bhaer, as president, and Mr. 
 March, as chaplain, lived to see their long-cherished 
 dream beautifully realized. Perhaps the picture of 
 Nan is the most vivid, for that restless young per- 
 son had many of Louisa's own traits, and certainly 
 the free and independent life Nan led would have 
 been her own portion, had she been able to choose. 
 But we miss " Marmee," and the shadowy outlines 
 of Mrs. Amy makes her figure seem unreal. For the 
 rest, our " little men " grown up are most satis- 
 factory, and, needless to say, the fifty thousand of 
 the first edition sold fast. In spite of this, her own 
 opinion of " Jo's Boys " was not favorable. Her 
 best work was always done at top speed. In her 
 days of comparative health such a task could have 
 been accomplished in a month at most, but creep- 
 ing along as she did, with long intervals between the 
 parts, made, to her own thinking, a most unsatisfac- 
 tory result. The only illustration in the book is the 
 bas-relief of her own head, taken from the sculp- 
 tured piece by Walter Ricketson, a young artist, to 
 whom she had been much help. She says in a letter 
 to Mr. Niles : 
 
 " Sorry you don't like the bas-relief ; I do. A 
 portrait, if bright and comely, wouldn't be me, and 
 if like me, would disappoint the children; so we 
 had better let them imagine 'Aunt Jo young and 
 beautiful, with her hair in two tails down her back ' ; 
 as the little girl said." The little girl she refers to
 
 320 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 was a young Southerner, who visited Boston soon 
 after the publication of " Little Women." She was 
 taken to Concord on a special pilgrimage to see the 
 author, and breathlessly waited for her idol. When 
 she saw her she burst into tears of disappointment, 
 and would not be comforted. 
 
 Her mind now hovered between a novel for Mr. 
 Niles and a serial for Mrs. Dodge. " I have a dozen 
 plots in my head," she says, " but think the serial 
 had better come first. I want a great deal of money 
 for many things, and expenses increase. I am the 
 only money-maker, and must turn the mill for 
 others, though my own grist is ground and in the 
 barn." 
 
 Housekeeping in town, anxiety about her father, 
 the coming and going of so many people, her own 
 unsatisfactory work, told on the worn-out nerves. 
 In the summer she was back in Concord, near her 
 father, while the others went to the seashore. In 
 September, they were again in the Boston house, but 
 in December, Louisa broke down completely, and it 
 was then she put herself under the care of Dr. 
 Rhoda Lawrence, and became an inmate of her home 
 at Dunreath Place, Roxbury, where, with few inter- 
 vals, she remained during the rest of her life. 
 
 She was beginning to see the disastrous effects of 
 overwork. She had reached the stage when even 
 the companionship of her family wore upon her 
 nerves. It grieved her to be away from her home 
 and all she loved ; her father was failing fast and she
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 321 
 
 longed to be to him the loving nurse she had been 
 to the others in their need ; but the tired nerves could 
 not bear the strain, rest was the only hope for her, 
 and perfect quiet could be had at Dunreath Place. 
 
 From that time Dr. Lawrence became friend and 
 nurse, as well as physician, accompanying her pa- 
 tient wherever she went. In the summer of 1887, 
 she visited her father in Melrose; from there she 
 went home to Concord to look over some papers, 
 and complete the plan for adopting her nephew, and 
 finished the season at Princeton (Mass.), which she 
 enjoyed with all her old-time pleasure. But a sud- 
 den attack of rheumatism and vertigo undid all the 
 good, and she returned to Roxbury in a very nerv- 
 ous state, the old aches and pains of bygone years 
 springing up again like menacing ghosts. 
 
 Louisa was too sensible a woman not to know 
 how close she was creeping to the very margin of 
 life; yet she planned out stories for years ahead, 
 and sewed industriously for the poor, when not 
 weaving " pot-boilers " from force of habit. It was 
 during this seclusion that she wrote " A Garland 
 for Girls," a group of short stories suggested by 
 the beautiful flowers constantly sent her. She 
 amused herself in many ways, but saw no company. 
 She enjoyed writing and answering letters, and 
 many a youthful ambition was warmed and nour- 
 ished by her kindly words of advice; from the 
 young man who asked her if she would advise him 
 to devote himself to authorship as if she could
 
 322 
 
 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 decide such a question to the little chap who sent 
 twenty-five cents to buy her books. She returned 
 the money, explaining that it was not enough, but 
 sent him " Little Men " as a present. 
 
 She was delighted over the engagement of her 
 nephew Fred. In a letter to her aunt, Mrs. Bond, 
 March 15, 1887, she says: 
 
 " I have been hoping to get out and see you all 
 winter, but have been so ill I could only live on 
 hope, as a relish to my gruel, that being my only 
 food, and not of a nature to give me strength. 
 The spring days will set me up, I trust, and my 
 first pilgrimage shall be to you; for I want you to 
 see how prettily my May-flower [her pet name for 
 May's child] is blossoming into a fine offshoot of 
 the old plant. 
 
 " Lizzie Wells has probably told you of our news 
 of Fred and his little bride, and Anna has written 
 to you about it, as only a proud mamma can. 
 
 "... I was sorry to hear that you were poorly 
 again. Isn't it hard to sit serenely in one's soul 
 when one's body is in a dilapidated state? I feel 
 it a great bore, but try to do it patiently, and hope 
 to see the why by and by, when this mysterious 
 life is made clear to me. I had a lovely dream about 
 that and want to tell it to you some day. Love 
 to all. 
 
 " Ever yours, 
 
 " L. M. A."
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 323 
 
 Mrs. Bond had her own corner in the affections 
 of the entire family. It was through her kindness 
 that May was able to take the first steps in her 
 work, and all through their trials and struggles she 
 had been a stanch and faithful friend. " Mar- 
 mee's " death had brought her specially close to 
 Louisa, who loved to write to her during those quiet 
 days. 
 
 Even as late as the spring and summer of 1887, 
 Louisa was planning new work for the coming 
 year. " A Modern Mephistopheles " was repub- 
 lished under her own name, with one of her old 
 stories, " A Whisper in the Dark," to round out the 
 volume ; to this she wrote the following explanatory 
 preface : 
 
 " ' A Modern Mephistopheles ' was written 
 among the earlier volumes of the No Name Series, 
 when the chief idea of the authors was to puzzle 
 their readers as much as possible, that they might 
 enjoy the guessing and criticism as each novel ap- 
 peared. This book was very successful in preserv- 
 ing its incognito, and many persons still insist that 
 it could not have been written by the author of 
 ' Little Women.' As I much enjoyed trying to em- 
 body a shadow of my favorite poem in the story, as 
 well as the amusement it has afforded those in the 
 secret for some years, it is considered well to add 
 this volume to the few romances which are offered, 
 not as finished work by any means, but merely at-
 
 324 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 tempts at something graver than magazine stories 
 or juvenile literature. 
 
 " L. M. ALCOTT." 
 
 The romances to which she refers are " Work," 
 " Moods," and " A Modern Mephistopheles," which 
 Roberts Brothers were bringing out in uniform vol- 
 umes. Another story was simmering, " A Tragedy 
 of To-day." " I hope," she writes Mr. Niles, " to 
 do ' A Tragedy of To-day ' this summer, and it can 
 come out in the fall or next spring. ... A spunky 
 new one would make the old ones go." 
 
 In another letter to Mrs. Bond, she writes : " As 
 you and I belong to the ' Shut-in Society,' we may 
 now and then cheer each other by a line. Your note 
 and verse are very good to me to-day, as I sit trying 
 to feel all right, in spite of the stiffness that won't 
 walk, the rebel stomach that won't work, and the 
 tired head that won't rest. 
 
 " My verse lately has been from a little poem 
 found under a good soldier's pillow in the hospital : 
 
 I am no longer eager, bold and strong, 
 
 All that is past; 
 I am ready not to do 
 
 At last at last 
 My half-day's work is done, 
 And this is all my part 
 
 I give a patient God 
 
 My patient heart.
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 
 
 3 2 5 
 
 " The learning not to do is so hard after being 
 the hub to the family wheel so long. But it is good 
 for the energetic ones to find that the world can get 
 on without them, and learn to be still, to give up, 
 and wait cheerfully. 
 
 " As we have ' fell into poetry,' as Silas Wegg 
 says, I add a bit of my own; for since you are 
 Marmee now, I feel that you won't laugh at my 
 poor attempts any more than she did, even when 
 I burst forth at the ripe age of eight." 
 
 Perhaps the following lines were what she sent; 
 at any rate, though written a year earlier, they seem 
 most appropriate here, showing as they do, every 
 side of her rich nature : 
 
 MY PRAYER. 
 
 Courage and patience, these I ask, 
 Dear Lord, in this my latest strait; 
 
 For hard I find my ten years' task, 
 Learning to suffer and to wait. 
 
 Life seems so rich and grand a thing, 
 So full of work for heart and brain, 
 
 It is a cross that I can bring, 
 No help, no offering, but pain. 
 
 The hard-earned harvest of these years, 
 
 I long to generously share; 
 The lessons learned with bitter tears, 
 
 To teach again with tender care;
 
 326 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 To smooth the rough and thorny way, 
 Where other feet begin to tread; 
 
 To feed some hungry soul each day, 
 With sympathy's sustaining bread. 
 
 So beautiful such pleasures show, 
 
 I long to make them mine; 
 To love and labor, and to know 
 
 The joy such living makes divine. 
 
 But if I may not, I will only ask 
 Courage and patience for my fate, 
 
 And learn, dear Lord, thy latest task, 
 To suffer patiently and wait. 
 
 To Mrs. Bond she sent the first author's copy of 
 " Lulu's Library.'" She had always done this to 
 her mother, and she felt that this well-loved aunt 
 was a fitting representative of " Marmee." The 
 book was made up of many of the old " Flower 
 Fables," told long ago to her sister May and her 
 playmates, and retold to Lulu, with many fresh 
 touches. 
 
 Her last birthday was a happy one, though still 
 in seclusion. Letters, gifts and flowers came crowd- 
 ing upon her, and she was feeling so much better 
 that everyone began to hope for her recovery. 
 After Christmas, there were busy preparations for 
 Fred's wedding, in which Louisa took a deep in- 
 terest, though she sat apart in her sanctuary. Her 
 father began at this time to fail rapidly, and she 
 wrote Mrs. Bond, February 7, 1888 :
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 327 
 
 " DEAR AUNTIE : 
 
 " My blessed Anna is so busy [Fred was to be 
 married next day], and I can do so little to help 
 her, I feel as if I might take upon me the pleasant 
 duty of writing to you. 
 
 " Father is better, and we are all so grateful, for 
 just now we want all to be bright for our boy. 
 
 " The end is not far off, but Father rallies won- 
 derfully from each feeble spell, and keeps serene 
 and happy through everything. I don't ask to keep 
 him, now that life is a burden, and am glad to 
 have him go before it becomes a pain. We shall 
 miss the dear old white head, and the feeble saint, 
 so long our care ; but as Anna says, ' He will be 
 with Mother.' So we shall be happy in the hope of 
 that meeting. 
 
 " Sunday he seemed very low, and I was allowed 
 to drive in and say * good-by.' He knew me and 
 smiled, and kissed ' Weedy/ as he calls me, and I 
 thought the drowsiness and difficulty of breathing 
 could not last long. But he revived, got up, and 
 seemed so much as usual, I may be able to see him 
 again. It is a great grief that I am not there as 
 I was with Lizzie and Mother, but though much 
 better, the shattered nerves won't bear much yet, 
 and quiet is my only cure. 
 
 " I sit alone, and bless the little pair, like a fond 
 old grandmother. You show me how to do it. 
 With love to all, 
 
 " Yours ever, Lu."
 
 328 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 Her last note to Mrs. Bond was : 
 
 "February 8, 1888. 
 
 "Air, 'Haste to the Wedding!' 
 " DEAR AUNTIE : 
 
 " I little knew what a sweet surprise was in store 
 for me when I wrote you yesterday. 
 
 " As I worked this morning my good Dr. Law- 
 rence came in with the lovely azalea, her round face 
 beaming through the leaves like a full moon. 
 
 " It is very dear of you to remember me and 
 cheer up my lonely day with such a beautiful guest. 
 
 " It stands beside me on Marmee's worktable, 
 and reminds me tenderly of her favorite flowers. 
 Among those used at her funeral was a spray of 
 this, which lasted for two weeks afterwards, open- 
 ing bud by bud in the glass on her table, where lay 
 the dear old ' Jos May ' hymn book and her diary, 
 with the pen shut in, just as she left it when she 
 last wrote there, three days before the end. ' The 
 twilight is closing about me, and I am going to rest 
 in the arms of my children.' 
 
 " So you see I love the delicate flower and enjoy 
 it very much. 
 
 " I can write now, and soon hope to come out 
 and see you for a few minutes, as I drive out every 
 fine day, and go and kiss my people once a week, for 
 fifteen minutes. 
 
 " Slow climbing, but I don't slip back ; so think
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 329 
 
 up my mercies, and sing cheerfully, as dear Marmee 
 used to do. 
 
 " ' Thus far the Lord has led me on! ' 
 " Your loving 
 
 " Lu." 
 
 Thus, with courage, patience, and beautiful faith, 
 Louisa Alcott climbed higher and higher toward the 
 Celestial City which from childhood she had seen 
 afar. " The Pilgrim's Progress " had been her 
 guiding star through life, as it had been her father's 
 and her mother's before her, as it was, indeed, to 
 the stanch Puritan from generation to generation. 
 
 In the beautiful lines to her father on his eighty- 
 sixth birthday, especially in the first and last 
 stanzas, she shows how the wonderful allegory 
 rounded out the measure of his years : 
 
 Dear Pilgrim, waiting patiently 
 
 The long, long journey nearly done, 
 Beside the sacred stream that flows 
 
 Clear shining in the western sun; 
 Look backward on the varied road 
 
 Your steadfast feet have trod, 
 From youth to age, through weal and woe, 
 
 Climbing forever nearer God. 
 
 The staff set by, the sandals off, 
 Still pondering the precious scroll, 
 
 Serene and strong he waits the call 
 That frees and wings a happy soul.
 
 330 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 There, beautiful as when it lured 
 
 The boy's aspiring eyes, 
 Before the Pilgrim's longing sight, 
 
 Shall the Celestial City rise. 
 
 Louisa was never afraid of death. To those she 
 had loved, it had brought peace, and though the love 
 of living was strong within her, she was content, 
 as she said, to " wait patiently " God's will. 
 
 Early in March, her father grew alarmingly 
 worse. With aching heart, Louisa drove in to see 
 him for the last time, and the last letter she ever 
 wrote was penned just afterwards to her friend, 
 Mrs. Porter, who had sent her a pretty picture of 
 May. The little note reads as follows: 
 
 " DEAR MRS. PORTER : 
 
 " Thanks for the picture, I am glad to have it. 
 No philosophy is needed for the impending event. 
 I shall be very glad when the dear old man falls 
 asleep after his long and innocent life. Sorrow 
 has no place at such times, and death is never ter- 
 rible when it comes in the likeness of a friend. 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 " L. M. ALCOTT. 
 
 " P.S. I have another year to stay in my ' Saint's 
 Rest,' and then I am promised twenty years of 
 health. I don't want so many, and I have no idea 
 I shall see them. But as I don't live for myself. I 
 hold on for others, and shall find time to die some 
 day, I hope."
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 331 
 
 She had been lured by the mild weather to make 
 some change in her dress, and absorbed in her own 
 sad thoughts over the pain of parting, she forgot 
 the fur wrap she usually wore. So like she was 
 to a fragile hot-house plant, that the faintest whiff 
 of air to which she was not accustomed was apt to 
 prove disastrous. 
 
 The next day she was stricken down; merciful 
 unconsciousness came to her like an angel of peace 
 and rest, and on March 6, 1888, Louisa Alcott 
 closed her weary eyes and " went out with the tide " 
 to meet the father who had gone two days before. 
 
 Over twenty years have passed since the dark 
 hour when the children heard " Louisa Alcott is 
 dead," and thousands can recall the sorrow that 
 filled their hearts, and the tears that dimmed their 
 eyes. 
 
 There are those who remember the simple funeral 
 in her father's rooms, the touching words read over 
 her, and the quiet burial at Concord in the ceme- 
 tery of Sleepy Hollow, at the feet of those she 
 loved the best, in the gracious company of the men 
 and women who had been closest to her in her life. 
 
 " Her boys " went beside her as a guard of 
 honor, and the girls hid their bright eyes, and wept 
 for the dear, dead friend. 
 
 But she was not dead; Louisa Alcott's presence 
 was too radiant to pass without leaving a stream
 
 332 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 of light behind. She lives in her books, in the 
 hearts of her readers, in the untold deeds of love 
 and kindness, which were locked up in the great, 
 generous soul. 
 
 She was so modest that few people, outside of 
 her own circle of friends, knew what charm of 
 mind and person she possessed. She was tall, and 
 in later years somewhat stately, with finely chiseled, 
 rather massive features, and a wealth of chestnut 
 hair, which waved over the fine forehead ; her com- 
 plexion was brilliant, and her eyes were " glori- 
 ously blue." As to expression, this beautiful son- 
 net by Margaret Ashman, an ardent admirer, will 
 best express what a thoughtful person read in the 
 face of Louisa Alcott. 
 
 ON A PORTRAIT OF Miss ALCOTT. , 
 
 In all my fancies, when I was a child, 
 
 I pictured her a princess, stately made 
 
 Fair-featured, rich, a new Sheherazade, 
 
 On whom a kindly fate forever smiled. 
 
 The blithesome story-teller, that beguiled 
 
 The soul of childhood. Could her beauty fade, 
 
 Her genius wane, her ready pen be stayed 
 
 By grief or age? 'Twere heresy most wild 
 
 To think these things. Now, where I musing stand, 
 
 Her portrait hangs. This unassuming guise 
 
 Shows, not a princess, haughty to command, 
 
 But one most humble, human, sorrow-wise, 
 
 Who seems to live and reach me forth her hand, 
 
 A woman, simple, sweet, with tired eyes.
 
 A LOVING MEMORY. 333 
 
 A woman! That is what she strove to be, a 
 strong, self-reliant, practical woman, showing her 
 more timid sisters the way to freedom, through 
 high endeavors and noble purpose, never swerving 
 from the path of duty through all the trials of her 
 life. Her father wrote of her: 
 
 When I remember with what buoyant heart, 
 
 Midst war's alarms and woes of civil strife, 
 
 In youthful eagerness, thou didst depart, 
 
 At peril of thy safety, peace, and life, 
 
 To nurse the wounded soldier, swathe the dead, 
 
 How pierced soon by fever's poisoned dart, 
 
 And brought, unconscious, home with 'wildered head, 
 
 Thou ever since 'mid languor and dull pain, 
 
 To conquer fortune, cherish kindred dear, 
 
 Hast with grave studies vexed a sprightly brain, 
 
 In myriad households kindled love and cheer, 
 
 Ne'er from thyself by Fame's loud trump beguiled, 
 
 Sounding in this and the farther hemisphere 
 
 I press thee to my heart, as Duty's faithful child. 
 
 They are all sleeping now, under the pines they 
 loved so well all but May though the simple 
 stone marks her vacant corner. Mother, Father, 
 Anna, Beth, with the baby brother, dead so long 
 ago, and at their feet, guarding them, Louisa, that 
 she might " take care " of them as she had done all 
 her life. 
 
 Little Lulu went back to her father and the years 
 have touched her into charming womanhood. The
 
 334 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
 
 " boys " live on in Concord and Boston, with homes 
 and families of their own, keeping green the mem- 
 ory of the woman who gave them all she had, her 
 love, her fortune, and the undimmed luster of her 
 name. 
 
 0) 
 
 THE END.
 
 APPLETONS' SUPPLEMENTARY READERS. 
 
 Uncle Robert's Geography. 
 
 By the late FRANCIS W. PARKER and NELLIE 
 L. HELM. A Series of Geographical Readers 
 for Supplementary Use. Four volumes. Illus- 
 trated. 1 2 mo. Cloth. 
 
 1. Playtime and Seedtime 32 cents. 
 
 2. On the Farm 43 
 
 3. Uncle Robert's Visit 50 " 
 
 4. A River Journey .60 * 
 
 Uncle Robert teaches children how to read aright the great book 
 of Nature. He makes study a pleasure. He teaches geography in the 
 right way. He makes rural life and occupations attractive. He has a 
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 finds his greatest hopes in childhood and its possibilities. 
 
 These extraordinarily suggestive little books by the late 
 Colonel Parker one of the most far-sighted students of 
 child -life of our day have approved themselves to thousands 
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 attempts to incorporate that which is close by nature to 
 child perception into the very warp and woof of the child 
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 the round of experiences that come to all normal children in 
 our land. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 HEALTHY, KINDLY, HAPPY. 
 
 Forest Land. 
 
 By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. Illustrated. 
 Square 8vo. $1.50 net; postage additional. 
 
 This is a series of beautiful little stories beauti- 
 fully illustrated. They tell of the adventures of a 
 little boy and a little girl up on the breezy hills on 
 the edge of the woods making their acquaintance 
 with Forest Land. The stories are illustrated by 
 eight full-page pictures in colors by Emily Benson 
 Knipe. The pictures are in happy accord with the 
 text. The book has a picture cover, a fancy lining, 
 and attractive little sketches at the heads and ends 
 of the chapters. Butterflies are to be found on odd 
 pages apparently fluttering through the book. 
 
 The little girl and the little boy first hear the 
 " Voice of the Forest " whispering eagerly to them 
 to come and see it, and respond to the invitation. 
 Then they go in and learn all the strange secrets of 
 the wee wild things, and promise the trees that they 
 will never be cut down. The chapters fill the 
 reader, be he young or be he old, with a feeling of 
 the fresh outdoors, healthy, kindly, happy thoughts, 
 and pure ideas. The breezy kindliness of Mr. Cham- 
 bers's writings is better than a tonic. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 By JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS 
 
 Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings. 
 
 New and Revised Edition. 112 Illustrations by A. B. 
 Frost. Library Edition, izmo. Cloth, gilt top, $2.00. 
 
 " An exquisite volume, full of good illustrations, and if there is anybody 
 in this country who doesn't know Mr. Harris, here is an opportunity to make 
 his acquaintance and have many a good laugh." New York Herald. 
 
 " Mr. Harris has made a real addition to literature purely and strikingly 
 American, and Mr. Frost has aided in fixing the work indelibly on the con- 
 sciousness of the American reader." The Churchman. 
 
 "We say it with the utmost faith that there is not an artist who works 
 in illustration that can catch the attitude and expression, the slyness, the 
 innate depravity, the eye of surprise, obstinacy, the hang of the head or the 
 kick of the heels of the mute and the brute creation as Mr. Frost has shown 
 to us here." Baltimore Sun. 
 
 "Nobody could possibly have done this work better than Mr. Frost, 
 whose appreciation of negro life fitted him especially to be the interpreter 
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 ard edition." Philadelphia Times. 
 
 " The old tales of the plantation have never been told as Mr. Harris has 
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 the risibilities of the reader that one almost loses consciousness of the printed 
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 across the senses and brings mirth inextinguishable as it comes." New York 
 Tribune. 
 
 On the Plantation. 
 
 With 23 Illustrations by E. W. Kemble, and Portrait 
 of the Author. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " The book is in the characteristic vein which has made the author so 
 famous and popular as an interpreter of plantation character." Rochester 
 Union and Advertiser. 
 
 "Those who never tire of Uncle Remus and his stories with whom we 
 would be accounted will delight in Joe Maxwell and his exploits. "London 
 Saturday Review. 
 
 " A charming little book, tastefully gotten up. . . . Its simplicity, humor, 
 and individuality would be very welcome to any one who was weary of the 
 pretentiousness and the dull obviousness of the average three-volume novel. 
 London Chronicle. 
 
 " Really a valuable, if modest, contribution to the history of the civil war 
 within the Confederate lines, particularly on the eve of the catastrophe. 
 Two or three new animal fables are introduced with effect ; but the history 
 of the plantation, the printing-office, the black runaways, and white desert- 
 ers, of whom the impending break-up made the community tolerant, th< 
 coon and fox hunting, forms the serious purpose of the book, and holds the 
 reader's interest from beginning to end." New York Evening Post. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 STORIES FOR YOUNG READERS 
 
 JOURNEYS OF THE KIT KAT CLUB. Illus- 
 trated. 8vo. $2.00 Net. 
 By WILLIAM R. A. WILSON. 
 A beautifully illustrated volume filled with interesting and salient 
 
 features of English history, folk-lore, politics, and scenery. 
 
 BUTT CHANLER, FRESHMAN. Illustrated. 
 1 2 mo. $1.30. 
 
 By JAMES SHELLEY HAMILTON, Amherst '06. 
 College sports are always a subject of interest to young readers, 
 and here are incidents that are dear to all college associates. 
 
 "The story is breezy, bright, and clean." The Bookseller, New 
 York. 
 
 WILLIAMS OF WEST POINT. Illustrated. I2mo. 
 
 $1.50. 
 
 By Lieut. HUGH S. JOHNSON. 
 
 A story of West Point under the old code. " Every boy with 
 red blood in his veins will pronounce it a corker." The Globe, 
 Boston. 
 
 THE SUBSTITUTE. Illustrated. I2mo. $1.50. 
 
 By WALTER CAMP. 
 
 " Presents the ideal to football enthusiasts. The author's name 
 is guarantee of the accuracy of descriptions of the plays." The 
 Courant, Hartford, Conn. 
 
 THE FOREST RUNNERS. Illustrated in Color. 
 I2tno. $1.30. 
 By JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER. 
 
 This story deals with the further adventures of the two young 
 woodsmen in the history of Kentucky who were heroes in " The 
 Young Trailers." The story is full of thrills to appeal to every boy 
 who loves a good story. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 A UNIQUE BOOK. 
 
 "For children, parents, teachers, and all who are interested 
 in the psychology of childhood." 
 
 The Book of Knight and Barbara. 
 
 By DAVID STARR JORDAN. Illustrated. i2mo. 
 Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 The curious and fascinating tales and pictures of this unique 
 book are introduced by Dr. Jordan with the following preface : 
 " The only apology the author can make in this case is that he 
 never meant to do it. He had told his own children many 
 stories of many kinds, some original, some imitative, some traves- 
 ties of the work of real story-tellers. Two students of the de- 
 partment of education in the Stanford University Mrs. Louise 
 Maitland, of San Jose, and Miss Harriet Hawley, of Boston 
 asked him to repeat these stories before other children. Miss 
 Hawley, as a stenographer, took them down for future reference, 
 and while the author was absent on the Bering Sea Commission 
 of 1896 she wrote them out in full, thus forming the material 
 of this book. Copies of the stories were placed by Mrs. Mait- 
 land in the hands of hundreds of children. These drew illus- 
 trative pictures, after their fashion ; and from the multitude 
 offered, Mrs. Maitland chose those which are here reproduced. 
 The scenes in the stories were also subjected to the criticisms 
 of the children, and in many cases amended to meet their sug- 
 gestions. These pictures made by the children have been found 
 to interest deeply other children, a fact which gives them a 
 definite value as original documents in the study of the workings 
 of the child-mind. At the end of the volume are added a few 
 true stories of birds and of beasts, told to a different audience. 
 With these are a few drawings by university students, which are 
 intended to assist the imagination of child-readers." 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 BY GABRIELLE E. JACKSON. 
 
 Little Miss Cricket. 
 
 Little Miss Cricket's New Home. 
 
 Illustrated. I2mo. $1.25 each. 
 
 Two charming stories of a pathetic little heroine. 
 
 The Joy of Piney Hill. 
 
 Illustrated in color by Ruth M. Hallock. I2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 The story of a dear little girl who was in trouble and who was taken into 
 a model school where she makes every one love her. 
 
 Three Graces. 
 
 Three Graces at College. 
 
 With illustrations in tint by C. M. Relyea. I2mo. Cloth, $1.50 each. 
 
 The first, a story of boarding school life, full of incident and wholesome 
 characterization. The second, a charming story of college life, its ideals, 
 recreations, temptations and rewards. 
 
 Sunlight and Shadow. 
 
 Four full-page illustrations in colors. I2mo. Ornamental cloth, 
 $1.50. 
 
 "A wholesome little tale is this, tingling with life and youthful spirits." 
 
 The Interior. 
 
 Big Jack. 
 
 Illustrated. I2mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.00. 
 
 " A book which every parent would show wisdom in putting in the libraries 
 of his children." Dayton Daily Mews. 
 
 Little Miss Sunshine. 
 
 Illustrated. I2mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " A delightful, wholesome, readable book for girls." Criterion. 
 
 Little Comrade. 
 
 Illustrated. I2mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.00. 
 
 Every child should be taught the love of animals. This book teaches 
 that love. 
 
 The Colburn Prize. 
 
 Illustrated. I2mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.00. 
 
 Dedicated to the school-girls throughout the land. Nine full-page illustra- 
 tions add to the charm of this exquisite gift book. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 
 University of California Library 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Phone Renewals 
 310/829-9188 
 
 4WKMAY08 1995 
 
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