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Chapter Twelve Camp Laurence

Beth was postmistress, for, being most at home, she could attend to it regularly, and dearly liked the daily task of unlocking the little door and distributing the mail. One July day she came in with her hands full, and went about the house leaving letters and parcels like the penny post.

“Here’s your posy, Mother! Laurie never forgets that,” she said, putting the fresh nosegay in the vase that stood in “Marmee’s corner”, and was kept supplied by the affectionate boy.

“Miss Meg March, one letter and a glove,” continued Beth, delivering the articles to her sister, who sat near her mother, stitching wristbands.

“Why, I left a pair over there, and here is only one,” said Meg, looking at the gray cotton glove. “Didn’t you drop the other in the garden?”

“No, I’m sure I didn’t, for there was only one in the office.”

“I hate to have odd gloves! Never mind, the other may be found. My letter is only a translation of the German song I wanted. I think Mr. Brooke did it, for this isn’t Laurie’s writing.”

Mrs. March glanced at Meg, who was looking very pretty in her gingham morning gown, with the little curls blowing about her forehead, and very womanly, as she sat sewing at her little worktable, full of tidy white rolls, so unconscious of the thought in her mother’s mind as she sewed and sang, while her fingers flew and her thoughts were busied with girlish fancies as innocent and fresh as the pansies in her belt, that Mrs. March smiled and was satisfied.

“Two letters for Doctor Jo, a book, and a funny old hat, which covered the whole post office and stuck outside,” said Beth, laughing as she went into the study where Jo sat writing.

“What a sly fellow Laurie is! I said I wished bigger hats were the fashion, because I burn my face every hot day. He said, ‘Why mind the fashion? Wear a big hat, and be comfortable!’ I said I would if I had one, and he has sent me this, to try me. I’ll wear it for fun, and show him I don’t care for the fashion.” And hanging the antique broad-brim on a bust of Plato, Jo read her letters.

One from her mother made her cheeks glow and her eyes fill, for it said to her –

MY DEAR – I write a little word to tell you with how much satisfaction I watch your efforts to control your temper. You say nothing about your trials, failures, or successes, and think, perhaps, that no one sees them but the Friend whose help you daily ask, if I may trust the well-worn cover of your guidebook. I, too, have seen them all, and heartily believe in the sincerity of your resolution, since it begins to bear fruit. Go on, dear, patiently and bravely, and always believe that no one sympathizes more tenderly with you than your loving

MOTHER

“That does me good! That’s worth millions of money and pecks of praise. Oh, Marmee, I do try! I will keep on trying, and not get tired, since I have you to help me.”

Laying her head on her arms, Jo wet her little romance with a few happy tears, for she had thought that no one saw and appreciated her efforts to be good, and this assurance was doubly precious, doubly encouraging, because unexpected and from the person whose commendation she most valued. Feeling stronger than ever to meet and subdue her Apollyon, she pinned the note inside her frock, as a shield and a reminder, lest she be taken unaware, and proceeded to open her other letter, quite ready for either good or bad news. In a big, dashing hand, Laurie wrote –

Dear Jo, What ho!

Some English girls and boys are coming to see me tomorrow and I want to have a jolly time. If it’s fine, I’m going to pitch my tent in Longmeadow, and row up the whole crew to lunch and croquet – have a fire, make messes, gypsy fashion, and all sorts of larks. They are nice people, and like such things. Brooke will go to keep us boys steady, and Kate Vaughn will play propriety for the girls. I want you all to come, can’t let Beth off at any price, and nobody shall worry her. Don’t bother about rations, I’ll see to that and everything else, only do come, there’s a good fellow!

In a tearing hurry,

Yours ever, LAURIE

“Here’s richness!” cried Jo, flying in to tell the news to Meg.

“Of course we can go, Mother? It will be such a help to Laurie, for I can row, and Meg see to the lunch, and the children be useful in some way.”

“I hope the Vaughns are not fine grown-up people. Do you know anything about them, Jo?” asked Meg.

“Only that there are four of them. Kate is older than you, Fred and Frank (twins) about my age, and a little girl (Grace), who is nine or ten. Laurie knew them abroad, and liked the boys. I fancied, from the way he primmed up his mouth in speaking of her, that he didn’t admire Kate much.”

“I’m so glad my French print is clean, it’s just the thing and so becoming!” observed Meg complacently. “Have you anything decent, Jo?”

“Scarlet and gray boating suit, good enough for me. I shall row and tramp about, so I don’t want any starch to think of. You’ll come, Betty?”

“If you won’t let any boys talk to me.”

“Not a boy!”

“I like to please Laurie, and I’m not afraid of Mr. Brooke, he is so kind. But I don’t want to play, or sing, or say anything. I’ll work hard and not trouble anyone, and you’ll take care of me, Jo, so I’ll go.”

“That’s my good girl. You do try to fight off your shyness, and I love you for it. Fighting faults isn’t easy, as I know, and a cheery word kind of gives a lift. Thank you, Mother,” And Jo gave the thin cheek a grateful kiss, more precious to Mrs. March than if it had given back the rosy roundness of her youth.

“I had a box of chocolate drops, and the picture I wanted to copy,” said Amy, showing her mail.

“And I got a note from Mr. Laurence, asking me to come over and play to him tonight, before the lamps are lighted, and I shall go,” added Beth, whose friendship with the old gentleman prospered finely.

“Now let’s fly round, and do double duty today, so that we can play tomorrow with free minds,” said Jo, preparing to replace her pen with a broom.

When the sun peeped into the girls’ room early the next morning to promise them a fine day, he saw a comical sight. Each had made such preparation for the fete as seemed necessary and proper. Meg had an extra row of little curl papers across her forehead, Jo had copiously anointed her afflicted face with cold cream, Beth had taken Joanna to bed with her to atone for the approaching separation, and Amy had capped the climax by putting a clothes-pin on her nose to uplift the offending feature. It was one of the kind artists used to hold the paper on their drawing boards, therefore quite appropriate and effective for the purpose it was now being put. This funny spectacle appeared to amuse the sun, for he burst out with such radiance that Jo woke up and roused her sisters by a hearty laugh at Amy’s ornament.

Sunshine and laughter were good omens for a pleasure party, and soon a lively bustle began in both houses. Beth, who was ready first, kept reporting what went on next door, and enlivened her sisters’ toilets by frequent telegrams from the window.

“There goes the man with the tent! I see Mrs. Barker doing up the lunch in a hamper and a great basket. Now Mr. Laurence is looking up at the sky and the weathercock. I wish he would go too. There’s Laurie, looking like a sailor, nice boy! Oh, mercy me! Here’s a carriage full of people, a tall lady, a little girl, and two dreadful boys. One is lame, poor thing, he’s got a crutch. Laurie didn’t tell us that. Be quick, girls! It’s getting late. Why, there is Ned Moffat, I do declare. Meg, isn’t that the man who bowed to you one day when we were shopping?”

“So it is. How queer that he should come. I thought he was at the mountains. There is Sallie. I’m glad she got back in time. Am I all right, Jo?” cried Meg in a flutter.

“A regular daisy. Hold up your dress and put your hat on straight, it looks sentimental tipped that way and will fly off at the first puff. Now then, come on!”

“Oh, Jo, you are not going to wear that awful hat? It’s too absurd! You shall not make a guy of yourself,” remonstrated Meg, as Jo tied down with a red ribbon the broad-brimmed, old-fashioned leghorn Laurie had sent for a joke.

“I just will, though, for it’s capital, so shady, light, and big. It will make fun, and I don’t mind being a guy if I’m comfortable.” With that Jo marched straight away and the rest followed, a bright little band of sisters, all looking their best in summer suits, with happy faces under the jaunty hat-brims.

Laurie ran to meet and present them to his friends in the most cordial manner. The lawn was the reception room, and for several minutes a lively scene was enacted there. Meg was grateful to see that Miss Kate, though twenty, was dressed with a simplicity which American girls would do well to imitate, and she was much flattered by Mr. Ned’s assurances that he came especially to see her. Jo understood why Laurie “primmed up his mouth” when speaking of Kate, for that young lady had a stand-off-don’t-touch-me air, which contrasted strongly with the free and easy demeanor of the other girls. Beth took an observation of the new boys and decided that the lame one was not “dreadful”, but gentle and feeble, and she would be kind to him on that account. Amy found Grace a well-mannered, merry, little person, and after staring dumbly at one another for a few minutes, they suddenly became very good friends.

Tents, lunch, and croquet utensils having been sent on beforehand, the party was soon embarked, and the two boats pushed off together, leaving Mr. Laurence waving his hat on the shore. Laurie and Jo rowed one boat, Mr. Brooke and Ned the other, while Fred Vaughn, the riotous twin, did his best to upset both by paddling about in a wherry like a disturbed water bug. Jo’s funny hat deserved a vote of thanks, for it was of general utility. It broke the ice in the beginning by producing a laugh, it created quite a refreshing breeze, flapping to and fro as she rowed, and would make an excellent umbrella for the whole party, if a shower came up, she said. Miss Kate decided that she was “odd”, but rather clever, and smiled upon her from afar.

Meg, in the other boat, was delightfully situated, face to face with the rowers, who both admired the prospect and feathered their oars with uncommon “skill and dexterity”. Mr. Brooke was a grave, silent young man, with handsome brown eyes and a pleasant voice. Meg liked his quiet manners and considered him a walking encyclopedia of useful knowledge. He never talked to her much, but he looked at her a good deal, and she felt sure that he did not regard her with aversion. Ned, being in college, of course put on all the airs which freshmen think it their bounden duty to assume. He was not very wise, but very good-natured, and altogether an excellent person to carry on a picnic. Sallie Gardiner was absorbed in keeping her white pique dress clean and chattering with the ubiquitous Fred, who kept Beth in constant terror by his pranks.

It was not far to Longmeadow, but the tent was pitched and the wickets down by the time they arrived. A pleasant green field, with three wide-spreading oaks in the middle and a smooth strip of turf for croquet.

“Welcome to Camp Laurence!” said the young host, as they landed with exclamations of delight.

“Brooke is commander in chief, I am commissary general, the other fellows are staff officers, and you, ladies, are company. The tent is for your especial benefit and that oak is your drawing room, this is the mess-room and the third is the camp kitchen. Now, let’s have a game before it gets hot, and then we’ll see about dinner.”

Frank, Beth, Amy, and Grace sat down to watch the game played by the other eight. Mr. Brooke chose Meg, Kate, and Fred. Laurie took Sallie, Jo, and Ned. The English played well, but the Americans played better, and contested every inch of the ground as strongly as if the spirit of ’76 inspired them. Jo and Fred had several skirmishes and once narrowly escaped high words. Jo was through the last wicket and had missed the stroke, which failure ruffled her a good deal. Fred was close behind her and his turn came before hers. He gave a stroke, his ball hit the wicket, and stopped an inch on the wrong side. No one was very near, and running up to examine, he gave it a sly nudge with his toe, which put it just an inch on the right side.

“I’m through! Now, Miss Jo, I’ll settle you, and get in first,” cried the young gentleman, swinging his mallet for another blow.

“You pushed it. I saw you. It’s my turn now,” said Jo sharply.

“Upon my word, I didn’t move it. It rolled a bit, perhaps, but that is allowed. So, stand off please, and let me have a go at the stake.”

“We don’t cheat in America, but you can, if you choose,” said Jo angrily.

“Yankees are a deal the most tricky, everybody knows. There you go!” returned Fred, croqueting her ball far away.

Jo opened her lips to say something rude, but checked herself in time, colored up to her forehead and stood a minute, hammering down a wicket with all her might, while Fred hit the stake and declared himself out with much exultation. She went off to get her ball, and was a long time finding it among the bushes, but she came back, looking cool and quiet, and waited her turn patiently. It took several strokes to regain the place she had lost, and when she got there, the other side had nearly won, for Kate’s ball was the last but one and lay near the stake.

“By George, it’s all up with us! Goodbye, Kate. Miss Jo owes me one, so you are finished,” cried Fred excitedly, as they all drew near to see the finish.

“Yankees have a trick of being generous to their enemies,” said Jo, with a look that made the lad redden, “especially when they beat them,” she added, as, leaving Kate’s ball untouched, she won the game by a clever stroke.

Laurie threw up his hat, then remembered that it wouldn’t do to exult over the defeat of his guests, and stopped in the middle of the cheer to whisper to his friend, “Good for you, Jo! He did cheat, I saw him. We can’t tell him so, but he won’t do it again, take my word for it.”

Meg drew her aside, under pretense of pinning up a loose braid, and said approvingly, “It was dreadfully provoking, but you kept your temper, and I’m so glad, Jo.”

“Don’t praise me, Meg, for I could box his ears this minute. I should certainly have boiled over if I hadn’t stayed among the nettles till I got my rage under control enough to hold my tongue. It’s simmering now, so I hope he’ll keep out of my way,” returned Jo, biting her lips as she glowered at Fred from under her big hat.

“Time for lunch,” said Mr. Brooke, looking at his watch. “Commissary general, will you make the fire and get water, while Miss March, Miss Sallie, and I spread the table? Who can make good coffee?”

“Jo can,” said Meg, glad to recommend her sister. So Jo, feeling that her late lessons in cookery were to do her honor, went to preside over the coffee-pot, while the children collected dry sticks, and the boys made a fire and got water from a spring near by. Miss Kate sketched and Frank talked to Beth, who was making little mats of braided rushes to serve as plates.

The commander in chief and his aides soon spread the tablecloth with an inviting array of eatables and drinkables, prettily decorated with green leaves. Jo announced that the coffee was ready, and everyone settled themselves to a hearty meal, for youth is seldom dyspeptic, and exercise develops wholesome appetites. A very merry lunch it was, for everything seemed fresh and funny, and frequent peals of laughter startled a venerable horse who fed near by. There was a pleasing inequality in the table, which produced many mishaps to cups and plates, acorns dropped into the milk, little black ants partook of the refreshments without being invited, and fuzzy caterpillars swung down from the trees to see what was going on. Three white-headed children peeped over the fence, and an objectionable dog barked at them from the other side of the river with all his might and main.

“There’s salt here,” said Laurie, as he handed Jo a saucer of berries.

“Thank you, I prefer spiders,” she replied, fishing up two unwary little ones who had gone to a creamy death. “How dare you remind me of that horrid dinner party, when yours is so nice in every way?” added Jo, as they both laughed and ate out of one plate, the china having run short.

“I had an uncommonly good time that day, and haven’t got over it yet. This is no credit to me, you know, I don’t do anything. It’s you and Meg and Brooke who make it all go, and I’m no end obliged to you. What shall we do when we can’t eat anymore?” asked Laurie, feeling that his trump card had been played when lunch was over.

“Have games till it’s cooler. I brought ‘Authors’, and I dare say Miss Kate knows something new and nice. Go and ask her. She’s company, and you ought to stay with her more.”

“Aren’t you company too? I thought she’d suit Brooke, but he keeps talking to Meg, and Kate just stares at them through that ridiculous glass of hers. I’m going, so you needn’t try to preach propriety, for you can’t do it, Jo.”

Miss Kate did know several new games, and as the girls would not, and the boys could not, eat any more, they all adjourned to the drawing room to play “Rig-marole”.

“One person begins a story, any nonsense you like, and tells as long as he pleases, only taking care to stop short at some exciting point, when the next takes it up and does the same. It’s very funny when well done, and makes a perfect jumble of tragical and comical stuff to laugh over. Please start it, Mr. Brooke,” said Kate, with a commanding air, which surprised Meg, who treated the tutor with as much respect as any other gentleman.

Lying on the grass at the feet of the two young ladies, Mr. Brooke obediently began the story, with the handsome brown eyes steadily fixed upon the sunshiny river.

“Once on a time, a knight went out into the world to seek his fortune, for he had nothing but his sword and his shield. He traveled a long while, nearly eight-and-twenty years, and had a hard time of it, till he came to the palace of a good old king, who had offered a reward to anyone who could tame and train a fine but unbroken colt, of which he was very fond. The knight agreed to try, and got on slowly but surely, for the colt was a gallant fellow, and soon learned to love his new master, though he was freakish and wild. Every day, when he gave his lessons to this pet of the king’s, the knight rode him through the city, and as he rode, he looked everywhere for a certain beautiful face, which he had seen many times in his dreams, but never found. One day, as he went prancing down a quiet street, he saw at the window of a ruinous castle the lovely face. He was delighted, inquired who lived in this old castle, and was told that several captive princesses were kept there by a spell, and spun all day to lay up money to buy their liberty. The knight wished intensely that he could free them, but he was poor and could only go by each day, watching for the sweet face and longing to see it out in the sunshine. At last he resolved to get into the castle and ask how he could help them. He went and knocked. The great door flew open, and he beheld – ”

“A ravishingly lovely lady, who exclaimed, with a cry of rapture, ‘At last! At last!’” continued Kate, who had read French novels, and admired the style. “‘Tis she!’ cried Count Gustave, and fell at her feet in an ecstasy of joy. ‘Oh, rise!’ she said, extending a hand of marble fairness. ‘Never! Till you tell me how I may rescue you,’ swore the knight, still kneeling. ‘Alas, my cruel fate condemns me to remain here till my tyrant is destroyed.’ ‘Where is the villain?’ ‘In the mauve salon. Go, brave heart, and save me from despair.’ ‘I obey, and return victorious or dead!’ With these thrilling words he rushed away, and flinging open the door of the mauve salon, was about to enter, when he received – ”

“A stunning blow from the big Greek lexicon, which an old fellow in a black gown fired at him,” said Ned. “Instantly, Sir What’s-His-Name recovered himself, pitched the tyrant out of the window, and turned to join the lady, victorious, but with a bump on his brow, he found the door locked, tore up the curtains, made a rope ladder, got halfway down when the ladder broke, and he went headfirst into the moat, sixty feet below. Could swim like a duck, paddled round the castle till he came to a little door guarded by two stout fellows, knocked their heads together till they cracked like a couple of nuts, then, by a trifling exertion of his prodigious strength, he smashed in the door, went up a pair of stone steps covered with dust a foot thick, toads as big as your fist, and spiders that would frighten you into hysterics, Miss March. At the top of these steps he came plump upon a sight that took his breath away and chilled his blood – ”

“A tall figure, all in white with a veil over its face and a lamp in its wasted hand,” went on Meg. “It beckoned, gliding noiselessly before him down a corridor as dark and cold as any tomb. Shadowy effigies in armor stood on either side, a dead silence reigned, the lamp burned blue, and the ghostly figure ever and anon turned its face toward him, showing the glitter of awful eyes through its white veil. They reached a curtained door, behind which sounded lovely music. He sprang forward to enter, but the specter plucked him back, and waved threateningly before him a – ”

“Snuff-box,” said Jo, in a sepulchral tone, which convulsed the audience. “ ‘Thankee,’ said the knight politely, as he took a pinch and sneezed seven times so violently that his head fell off. ‘Ha! Ha!’ laughed the ghost, and having peeped through the keyhole at the princesses spinning away for dear life, the evil spirit picked up her victim and put him in a large tin box, where there were eleven other knights packed together without their heads, like sardines, who all rose and began to – ”

“Dance a hornpipe,” cut in Fred, as Jo paused for breath, “and, as they danced, the rubbishy old castle turned to a man-of-war in full sail. ‘Up with the jib, reef the tops’l halliards, helm hard a-lee, and man the guns!’ roared the captain, as a Portuguese pirate hove in sight, with a flag black as ink flying from her foremast. ‘Go in and win, my hearties!’ says the captain, and a tremendous fight began. Of course the British beat – they always do.”

“No, they don’t!” cried Jo, aside.

“Having taken the pirate captain prisoner, they sailed slap over the schooner, whose decks were piled high with dead and whose lee scuppers ran blood, for the order had been ‘Cutlasses, and die hard!’ ‘Bosun’s mate, take a bight of the flying-jib sheet, and start this villain if he doesn’t confess his sins double quick,’ said the British captain. The Portuguese held his tongue like a brick, and walked the plank, while the jolly tars cheered like mad. But the sly dog dived, came up under the man-of-war, scuttled her, and down she went, with all sail set, ‘To the bottom of the sea, sea, sea’ where – ”

“Oh, gracious! What shall I say?” cried Sallie, as Fred ended his rigmarole, in which he had jumbled together pell-mell nautical phrases and facts out of one of his favorite books. “Well, they went to the bottom, and a nice mermaid welcomed them, but was much grieved on finding the box of headless knights, and kindly pickled them in brine, hoping to discover the mystery about them, for being a woman, she was curious. By-and-by a diver came down, and the mermaid said, ‘I’ll give you a box of pearls if you can take it up,’ for she wanted to restore the poor things to life, and couldn’t raise the heavy load herself. So the diver hoisted it up, and was much disappointed on opening it to find no pearls. He left it in a great lonely field, where it was found by a – ”

“Little goosegirl, who kept a hundred fat geese in the field,” said Amy, when Sallie’s invention gave out. “The little girl was sorry for them, and asked an old woman what she should do to help them. ‘Your geese will tell you, they know everything.’ said the old woman. So she asked what she should use for new heads, since the old ones were lost, and all the geese opened their hundred mouths and screamed – ”

“ ‘Cabbages!’ ” continued Laurie promptly. “‘Just the thing,’ said the girl, and ran to get twelve fine ones from her garden. She put them on, the knights revived at once, thanked her, and went on their way rejoicing, never knowing the difference, for there were so many other heads like them in the world that no one thought anything of it. The knight in whom I’m interested went back to find the pretty face, and learned that the princesses had spun themselves free and all gone and married, but one. He was in a great state of mind at that, and mounting the colt, who had stood by him through thick and thin, rushed to the castle to see which was left. Peeping over the hedge, he saw the queen of his affections picking flowers in her garden. ‘Will you give me a rose?’ said he. ‘You must come and get it. I can’t come to you, it isn’t proper,’ said she, as sweet as honey. He tried to climb over the hedge, but it seemed to grow higher and higher. Then he tried to push through, but it grew thicker and thicker, and he was in despair. So he patiently broke twig after twig till he had made a little hole through which he peeped, saying imploringly, ‘Let me in! Let me in!’ But the pretty princess did not seem to understand, for she picked her roses quietly, and left him to fight his way in. Whether he did or not, Frank will tell you.”

“I can’t. I’m not playing, I never do,” said Frank, dismayed at the sentimental predicament out of which he was to rescue the absurd couple. Beth had disappeared behind Jo, and Grace was asleep.

“So the poor knight is to be left sticking in the hedge, is he?” asked Mr. Brooke, still watching the river, and playing with the wild rose in his buttonhole.

“I guess the princess gave him a posy, and opened the gate after a while,” said Laurie, smiling to himself, as he threw acorns at his tutor.

“What a piece of nonsense we have made! With practice we might do something quite clever. Do you know ‘Truth?’ ”

“I hope so,” said Meg soberly.

“The game, I mean?”

“What is it?” said Fred.

“Why, you pile up your hands, choose a number, and draw out in turn, and the person who draws out the number has to answer truly any question put by the rest. It’s great fun.”

“Let’s try it,” said Jo, who liked new experiments.

Miss Kate and Mr. Brooke, Meg, and Ned declined, but Fred, Sallie, Jo, and Laurie piled and drew, and the lot fell to Laurie.

“Who are your heroes?” asked Jo.

“Grandfather and Napoleon.”

“Which lady here do you think prettiest?” said Sallie.

“Margaret.”

“Which do you like best?” from Fred.

“Jo, of course.”

“What silly questions you ask!” And Jo gave a disdainful shrug as the rest laughed at Laurie’s matter-of-fact tone.

“Try again. ‘Truth’ isn’t a bad game,” said Fred.

“It’s a very good one for you,” retorted Jo in a low voice. Her turn came next.

“What is your greatest fault?” asked Fred, by way of testing in her the virtue he lacked himself.

“A quick temper.”

“What do you most wish for?” said Laurie.

“A pair of boot lacings,” returned Jo, guessing and defeating his purpose.

“Not a true answer. You must say what you really do want most.”

“Genius. Don’t you wish you could give it to me, Laurie?” And she slyly smiled in his disappointed face.

“What virtues do you most admire in a man?” asked Sallie.

“Courage and honesty.”

“Now my turn,” said Fred, as his hand came last.

“Let’s give it to him,” whispered Laurie to Jo, who nodded and asked at once –

“Didn’t you cheat at croquet?”

“Well, yes, a little bit.”

“Good! Didn’t you take your story out of The Sea Lion?” said Laurie.

“Rather.”

“Don’t you think the English nation perfect in every respect?” asked Sallie.

“I should be ashamed of myself if I didn’t.”

“He’s a true John Bull. Now, Miss Sallie, you shall have a chance without waiting to draw. I’ll harrrow up your feelings first by asking if you don’t think you are something of a flirt,” said Laurie, as Jo nodded to Fred as a sign that peace was declared.

“You impertinent boy! Of course I’m not,” exclaimed Sallie, with an air that proved the contrary.

“What do you hate most?” asked Fred.

“Spiders and rice pudding.”

“What do you like best?” asked Jo.

“Dancing and French gloves.”

“Well, I think ‘Truth’ is a very silly play. Let’s have a sensible game of ‘Authors’ to refresh our minds,” proposed Jo.

Ned, Frank, and the little girls joined in this, and while it went on, the three elders sat apart, talking. Miss Kate took out her sketch again, and Margaret watched her, while Mr. Brooke lay on the grass with a book, which he did not read.

“How beautifully you do it! I wish I could draw,” said Meg, with mingled admiration and regret in her voice.

“Why don’t you learn? I should think you had taste and talent for it,” replied Miss Kate graciously.

“I haven’t time.”

“Your mamma prefers other accomplishments, I fancy. So did mine, but I proved to her that I had talent by taking a few lessons privately, and then she was quite willing I should go on. Can’t you do the same with your governess?”

“I have none.”

“I forgot young ladies in America go to school more than with us. Very fine schools they are, too, Papa says. You go to a private one, I suppose?”

“I don’t go at all. I am a governess myself.”

“Oh, indeed!” said Miss Kate, but she might as well have said, “Dear me, how dreadful!” for her tone implied it, and something in her face made Meg color, and wish she had not been so frank.

Mr. Brooke looked up and said quickly, “Young ladies in America love independence as much as their ancestors did, and are admired and respected for supporting themselves.”

“Oh, yes, of course it’s very nice and proper in them to do so. We have many most respectable and worthy young women who do the same and are employed by the nobility, because, being the daughters of gentlemen, they are both well bred and accomplished, you know,” said Miss Kate in a patronizing tone that hurt Meg’s pride, and made her work seem not only more distasteful, but degrading.

“Did the German song suit, Miss March?” inquired Mr. Brooke, breaking an awkward pause.

“Oh, yes! It was very sweet, and I’m much obliged to whoever translated it for me.” And Meg’s downcast face brightened as she spoke.

“Don’t you read German?” asked Miss Kate with a look of surprise.

“Not very well. My father, who taught me, is away, and I don’t get on very fast alone, for I’ve no one to correct my pronunciation.”

“Try a little now. Here is Schiller’s Mary Stuart and a tutor who loves to teach.” And Mr. Brooke laid his book on her lap with an inviting smile.

“It’s so hard I’m afraid to try,” said Meg, grateful, but bashful in the presence of the accomplished young lady beside her.

“I’ll read a bit to encourage you.” And Miss Kate read one of the most beautiful passages in a perfectly correct but perfectly expressionless manner.

Mr. Brooke made no comment as she returned the book to Meg, who said innocently, “I thought it was poetry.”

“Some of it is. Try this passage.”

There was a queer smile about Mr. Brooke’s mouth as he opened at poor Mary’s lament.

Meg obediently following the long grass-blade which her new tutor used to point with, read slowly and timidly, unconsciously making poetry of the hard words by the soft intonation of her musical voice. Down the page went the green guide, and presently, forgetting her listener in the beauty of the sad scene, Meg read as if alone, giving a little touch of tragedy to the words of the unhappy queen. If she had seen the brown eyes then, she would have stopped short, but she never looked up, and the lesson was not spoiled for her.

“Very well indeed!” said Mr. Brooke, as she paused, quite ignoring her many mistakes, and looking as if he did indeed “love to teach”.

Miss Kate put up her glass, and, having taken a survey of the little tableau before her, shut her sketch book, saying with condescension, “You’ve a nice accent and in time will be a clever reader. I advise you to learn, for German is a valuable accomplishment to teachers. I must look after Grace, she is romping.” And Miss Kate strolled away, adding to herself with a shrug, “I didn’t come to chaperone a governess, though she is young and pretty. What odd people these Yankees are. I’m afraid Laurie will be quite spoiled among them.”

“I forgot that English people rather turn up their noses at governesses and don’t treat them as we do,” said Meg, looking after the retreating figure with an annoyed expression.

“Tutors also have rather a hard time of it there, as I know to my sorrow. There’s no place like America for us workers, Miss Margaret.” And Mr. Brooke looked so contented and cheerful that Meg was ashamed to lament her hard lot.

“I’m glad I live in it then. I don’t like my work, but I get a good deal of satisfaction out of it after all, so I won’t complain. I only wished I liked teaching as you do.”

“I think you would if you had Laurie for a pupil. I shall be very sorry to lose him next year,” said Mr. Brooke, busily punching holes in the turf.

“Going to college, I suppose?” Meg’s lips asked the question, but her eyes added, “And what becomes of you?”

“Yes, it’s high time he went, for he is ready, and as soon as he is off, I shall turn soldier. I am needed.”

“I am glad of that!” exclaimed Meg. “I should think every young man would want to go, though it is hard for the mothers and sisters who stay at home,” she added sorrowfully.

“I have neither, and very few friends to care whether I live or die,” said Mr. Brooke rather bitterly as he absently put the dead rose in the hole he had made and covered it up, like a little grave.

“Laurie and his grandfather would care a great deal, and we should all be very sorry to have any harm happen to you,” said Meg heartily.

“Thank you, that sounds pleasant,” began Mr. Brooke, looking cheerful again, but before he could finish his speech, Ned, mounted on the old horse, came lumbering up to display his equestrian skill before the young ladies, and there was no more quiet that day.

“Don’t you love to ride?” asked Grace of Amy, as they stood resting after a race round the field with the others, led by Ned.

“I dote upon it. My sister, Meg, used to ride when Papa was rich, but we don’t keep any horses now, except Ellen Tree,” added Amy, laughing.

“Tell me about Ellen Tree. Is it a donkey?” asked Grace curiously.

“Why, you see, Jo is crazy about horses and so am I, but we’ve only got an old side-saddle and no horse. Out in our garden is an apple tree that has a nice low branch, so Jo put the saddle on it, fixed some reins on the part that turns up, and we bounce away on Ellen Tree whenever we like.”

“How funny!” laughed Grace. “I have a pony at home, and ride nearly every day in the park with Fred and Kate. It’s very nice, for my friends go too, and the Row is full of ladies and gentlemen.”

“Dear, how charming! I hope I shall go abroad some day, but I’d rather go to Rome than the Row,” said Amy, who had not the remotest idea what the Row was and wouldn’t have asked for the world.

Frank, sitting just behind the little girls, heard what they were saying, and pushed his crutch away from him with an impatient gesture as he watched the active lads going through all sorts of comical gymnastics. Beth, who was collecting the scattered Author cards, looked up and said, in her shy yet friendly way, “I’m afraid you are tired. Can I do anything for you?”

“Talk to me, please. It’s dull, sitting by myself,” answered Frank, who had evidently been used to being made much of at home.

If he asked her to deliver a Latin oration, it would not have seemed a more impossible task to bashful Beth, but there was no place to run to, no Jo to hide behind now, and the poor boy looked so wistfully at her that she bravely resolved to try.

“What do you like to talk about?” she asked, fumbling over the cards and dropping half as she tried to tie them up.

“Well, I like to hear about cricket and boating and hunting,” said Frank, who had not yet learned to suit his amusements to his strength.

My heart! What shall I do? I don’t know anything about them, thought Beth, and forgetting the boy’s misfortune in her flurry, she said, hoping to make him talk, “I never saw any hunting, but I suppose you know all about it.”

“I did once, but I can never hunt again, for I got hurt leaping a confounded five-barred gate, so there are no more horses and hounds for me,” said Frank with a sigh that made Beth hate herself for her innocent blunder.

“Your deer are much prettier than our ugly buffaloes,” she said, turning to the prairies for help and feeling glad that she had read one of the boys’ books in which Jo delighted.

Buffaloes proved soothing and satisfactory, and in her eagerness to amuse another, Beth forgot herself, and was quite unconscious of her sisters’ surprise and delight at the unusual spectacle of Beth talking away to one of the dreadful boys, against whom she had begged protection.

“Bless her heart! She pities him, so she is good to him,” said Jo, beaming at her from the croquet ground.

“I always said she was a little saint,” added Meg, as if there could be no further doubt of it.

“I haven’t heard Frank laugh so much for ever so long,” said Grace to Amy, as they sat discussing dolls and making tea sets out of the acorn cups.

“My sister Beth is a very fastidious girl, when she likes to be,” said Amy, well pleased at Beth’s success. She meant “facinating”, but as Grace didn’t know the exact meaning of either word, “fastidious” sounded well and made a good impression.

An impromptu circus, fox and geese, and an amicable game of croquet finished the afternoon. At sunset the tent was struck, hampers packed, wickets pulled up, boats loaded, and the whole party floated down the river, singing at the tops of their voices. Ned, getting sentimental, warbled a serenade with the pensive refrain –

Alone, alone, ah! Woe, alone,

and at the lines –

We each are young, we each have a heart,

Oh, why should we stand thus coldly apart?

he looked at Meg with such a lackadiasical expression that she laughed outright and spoiled his song.

“How can you be so cruel to me?” he whispered, under cover of a lively chorus. “You’ve kept close to that starched-up English woman all day, and now you snub me.”

“I didn’t mean to, but you looked so funny I really couldn’t help it,” replied Meg, passing over the first part of his reproach, for it was quite true that she had shunned him, remembering the Moffat party and the talk after it.

Ned was offended and turned to Sallie for consolation, saying to her rather pettishly, “There isn’t a bit of flirt in that girl, is there?”

“Not a particle, but she’s a dear,” returned Sallie, defending her friend even while confessing her shortcomings.

“She’s not a stricken deer anyway,” said Ned, trying to be witty, and succeeding as well as very young gentlemen usually do.

On the lawn where it had gathered, the little party separated with cordial good nights and good-byes, for the Vaughns were going to Canada. As the four sisters went home through the garden, Miss Kate looked after them, saying, without the patronizing tone in her voice, “In spite of their demonstrative manners, American girls are very nice when one knows them.”

“I quite agree with you,” said Mr. Brooke.

第十二章 劳伦斯营地

贝思是个女邮政局长，因为她在家的时间最多，可以定时收寄邮件，而且她也十分喜欢每天打开那扇小门，分派信件。七月的一天，她双手捧得满满地走进来，像邮递员一样，满屋子派发信件包裹。

“这是您的花，妈妈！劳里总是把这事记在心上，”她边说边把鲜花插进摆在“妈咪角"的花瓶里。那位感情细腻的男孩子每天都要送上一束鲜花供她们插瓶。

“梅格-马奇小姐，一封信和一只手套。”贝思继续把邮件递给坐在妈妈身边缝衣袖口的姐姐。

“咦，我在那边丢了一双，怎么现在只有一只？”梅格望望灰色的棉手套。”你是不是把另一只丢在园子里头了？”“没有，我保证没有，因为邮箱里就只有一只。“我讨厌单只手套！不过不要紧，另一只会找到的，我的信只是我要的一首德语歌的译文。我想是布鲁克写的，因为不是劳里的字迹。”马奇太太瞅一眼梅格，只见她穿着一袭方格花布晨衣，额前的小鬈发随风轻轻飘动，显得美丽动人，娇柔可爱。她坐在堆满整整齐齐的白布匹的小工作台边哼着歌儿飞针走线，脑子里只顾做着五彩斑斓、天真无邪的少女美梦、一点也没有觉察到妈妈的心事。马奇太太笑了，感到十分满意。

“乔博士有两封信，一本书，还有一顶趣怪的旧帽子，把整个邮箱都盖住了，还伸出外面，”贝里边说边笑着走进书房，乔正坐在书房里写作。

“劳里真是个狡猾的家伙。我说如果流行大帽子就好了，因为我每到天热就会把脸晒焦。他说：-何必管它流行不流行？

就戴一顶大帽，别难为了自己！-我说如果我有就会戴，他就送了这顶来试我。我偏要戴上它，跟他闹着玩，让他知道我不在乎流行不流行的。”乔把这顶旧式阔边帽子挂到柏拉图的半身像上，开始读信。

一封是妈妈写的，她读着便飞红了双颊，眼睛也潮湿了，因为信上说——

亲爱的：我写几句话告诉你，看到你为控制自己的脾气作出了巨大的努力，我感到多么高兴。你对自己的痛苦、失败、或成功只字不提，可能以为除了那位每天给你帮助的"朋友”外（我敢相信是你那本封面卷了角的指导书），没有人注意到这一切。不过，我也一一看在眼里，而且完全相信你的诚意和决心，因为你的决心已经开始结果了。继续努力吧，亲爱的，耐着性子，鼓足勇气，记住有一个人比任何人都更关心你，更爱护你，他就是你亲爱的

妈妈

“ 这些话对我很有好处，这封信抵得上万千金钱和无数溢美之辞。噢，妈咪，我确实是在努力！在您的帮助下，我一定不屈不挠地坚持下去。”乔把头埋在双臂上，为这小小的罗曼史洒下几滴热泪。她原以为没有人看到和欣赏她的努力，现在却意外地受到了母亲的赞扬，她一向最敬重母亲的话，因此这封信显得更加珍贵、更加鼓舞人心。她把纸条当作护身符别在上衣里面，以便时刻提醒自己，更增加了征服困难的信心。她接着打开另一封信，准备接受这个不知是好是坏的消息，展现在眼前的是劳里龙飞凤舞的大字——

亲爱的乔，嗬！

几个英国女孩和男孩明天来看望我，我想好好玩玩。如果天气好，我准备在长草坪上搭帐篷，全班人马划船过去吃午饭，玩槌球游戏——点篝火，野餐，自由戏耍，享受天然野趣。布鲁克也一起去，看管我们这班男孩子，凯特-沃恩则看管女孩子。恳请你们各位光临，无论如何不能漏了贝思，没有人会烦扰她的。不用担心野餐食物——一切由我来负责——千万出席这才是好朋友呢！

请恕行笔匆匆。

你永远的劳里

“好消息！”乔叫道，冲进去向梅格报讯。

“我们当然可以去，妈妈，对吧？这样还可以帮劳里的大忙呢，因为我会划船，梅格可以做午饭，两个妹妹也多少可以帮点忙。”“我希望沃恩姐弟不是拘泥古板、成熟老到这一类人。你了解他们吗，乔？”梅格问。

“只知道他们是四姐弟。凯特年纪比你大，弗雷德和弗兰克（双胞胎）年纪跟我差不多，还有个小姑娘（格莱丝）约莫十岁。劳里是在国外认识他们的，他喜欢那两个男孩子；我想，他不怎么赞赏凯特，因为他谈起她便一本正经地抿起嘴巴。”“我真高兴我的法式印花布服装还干干净净，这种场合穿正合适，又好看！“梅格喜滋滋地说，”你有什么出得场面的吗，乔？”“红、灰两色的划艇衣就够好了。我要划船，到处跑动，只想穿随便一点。你也来吧，贝蒂？”“那你得别让那些男孩子跟我说话。”“一个也不让！”“我想让劳里高兴，我也不怕布鲁克先生，他是个大好人；但是我不想玩，不想唱，也不想说话。我会埋头干活，不打扰别人。你来照看我，乔，那我就去。”“这才是我的好妹妹，你在努力克服自己的害羞心理呢，我真高兴。改正缺点并不容易，这我知道，而一句鼓励的话儿就能使人精神一振。谢谢您，妈妈，”乔说着感激地吻了一下母亲瘦削的脸庞，这一吻对于马奇太太来说比任何东西都要宝贵。

“我收到一盒巧克力糖和我想要的图画，”艾美说着把邮件打开给大家看。

“我收到劳伦斯先生一张字条，叫我今晚点灯前过去弹琴给他听，我会去的，“贝思接着说，她跟老人的友谊进展得非常快。

“我们马上行动起来吧，今天干双倍活，明天就可以玩得无忧无虑了，”乔说道，准备放下笔杆，拿起扫帚。

第二天一早，当太阳把头探进姑娘们的闺房向她们预告好天气时，他看到了一幅妙趣横生的景象：姐妹们个个下足功夫，为野营盛会做好充分准备。梅格的前额排列着一排小卷发纸；乔在晒焦了的脸上厚厚地涂了一层冷霜；贝思因为即将和乔安娜分离，把她带到床上共寝以弥补损失；艾美更是令人叫绝，她用衣夹夹住鼻子，试图把令人烦恼的扁鼻梁托高。这种夹子正是艺术家们用来在画板上夹画纸的那种，因此用在这里尤其合适。这幅滑稽图显然把太阳公公逗乐了，他笑得喷出万道金光，把乔照醒。看到艾美这付尊容，她禁不住大笑出声，遂把众姐妹闹醒了。

阳光和笑声是野营盛会的吉兆。两家屋子的人开始活跃忙碌起来。贝思第一个准备停当，她靠在窗前不断报告邻居的新动态，把正在梳妆打扮的三姐妹弄得越发紧张忙碌。

“一个人带着帐篷出来了！我看到巴克太太把午饭放到一个盖箱和大篓里。现在劳伦斯先生仰头望望天空和风标；但愿他也一起去。那是劳里，打扮得像个水手——帅小伙子！噢，啊呀！一整车的人——一个高个女士，一个小姑娘，还有两个可怕的男孩子。一个跛了腿：可怜的人！他拄着支拐杖。劳里没跟我们说过。快点，姑娘们！时间不早了。呀，那是内德-莫法特，没错。瞧，梅格，这不是那天我们上街时向你行礼的那个人吗？”“果然不错。他怎么也来了？我还以为他在山里头呢。那是莎莉；太好了，她回来得正是时候。你看我这样行吗，乔？”梅格焦急地问道。

“漂亮极了。提起裙子，把帽子戴正，这样斜翘着看上去有种感伤情调，而且风一吹便要飞走了。好了，我们出发吧！”“噢，乔，你不是要戴这顶糟帽子去吧？这太荒唐了，你不该把自己弄得像个男人，”梅格规劝道。此时乔正把劳里开玩笑送来的旧式阔边意大利草帽用一根红丝带围系起来。

“我正是要戴着去，它棒极了——又挡荫，又轻，又大。

戴上它更添情趣，再说，只要舒服，我不在乎做个男人，”乔说罢迈步就走，姐妹们紧跟其后——每人穿一身夏装，戴一顶逍遥自在的帽子，春风满脸，十分好看，俨然一支活泼快乐的小队伍。

劳里跑上前来迎接她们，十分热情地把她们介绍给各位朋友。草坪成了会客厅，大家在那里逗留了几分钟，气氛十分活跃。梅格看到凯特小姐虽然年方二十，穿着打扮却相当简朴，心里松了一口气，因为这种风格美国姑娘不费吹灰之力就能学会。她听内德先生一再声明自己特为见她一面而来，心里更加受用。乔终于明白劳里为什么一提到凯特就"一本正经地抿起嘴巴"，因为这位女士神态孤高冷傲，不像其他姑娘那样无拘无束、轻松随和。贝思观察了一下新来的男孩子，认为跛足这位并不"可怕"，反倒温顺柔弱，她因此想善待他。

艾美觉得格莱丝是个举止优雅、活泼快乐的小人儿，她俩默默对视了几分钟后，马上成了十分要好的朋友。

帐篷、午饭、槌球游戏用具等先行送走后，大家随即登上小艇。两叶轻舟并驾齐驱，岸上只剩下挥着帽子的劳伦斯先生一人。劳里和乔共划一艘艇，布鲁克先生和内德先生划另一艘，而淘气反叛的双胞胎兄弟弗雷德-沃恩则使劲划着一只单人赛艇，像只受了惊的水蝽一样在两叶小舟之间乱冲乱撞。乔那顶风趣的帽子用途十分广泛，值得击掌鸣谢：它一开始便打破隔膜，逗得众人笑起来，她划船时帽子上下摆动，扇出阵阵清风，如果下起雨来它还可以给全班人马当作一把大伞使用，她说。凯特对乔的一举一动都觉得十分新奇，她丢了桨时大叫一声"我的妈哟！”；而劳里就坐时不小心在她脚上绊了一下，他说：“我的好伙伴，弄痛了你没有？”这些更叫她纳罕不已。戴上眼镜把这位奇怪的姑娘审视几遍后，凯特小姐认定乔"古怪，但挺聪明"，于是远远对着她微笑起来。

另一只艇上的梅格舒舒服服地坐在两个荡桨手的对面，两个小伙子喜之不尽，各自使出不一般的"技巧和机敏"，把艇划得十分稳当。布鲁克先生是个严肃、沉默寡言的年青人，声音悦耳动听，一对棕色的眼睛明亮有神。梅格喜欢他性格沉静，把他看作是一部活百科全书，里头装满了各种有用的知识。他跟她不大说话，但眼光却常常落在她身上，梅格肯定他对自己并不反感。内德是大学新生，当然摆足派头。他并不特别聪明，但性情随和，不失为野营活动的好伙伴。莎莉-加德纳一面打足精神护着自己的白裙子，以免被水弄脏，一面和到处乱冲乱撞的弗雷德交谈。弗雷德不断做出各式各样的恶作剧，把贝思吓得心惊胆战。

长草坪相隔并不远，他们到达时帐篷已搭好了，三柱门也支了起来。这是一片令人心旷神怡的绿地，中间挺立着三棵枝繁叶茂的橡树，还有一块玩槌球用的平滑狭长的草坪。

“欢迎光临劳伦斯营地！”大家登上绿地，高兴得发出阵阵赞叹的时候，年轻主人说道。

“布鲁克任总指挥，我任军需官，其他各位男士任参谋官，而你们，女士们，则是陪同。这个帐篷专为你们而搭，那棵橡树是你们的客厅，第二棵是餐室，第三棵是营地厨房。好了，天未热我们先玩个游戏，然后再来做饭。”弗兰克、贝思、艾美和格莱丝坐下观看其他八人玩游戏。

布鲁克选了梅格、凯特和弗雷德；劳里则选了莎莉、乔和内德。英国孩子打得不错，但美国孩子打得更好，而且冲劲十足。乔和弗雷德发生了几次小冲突，一次还几乎吵了起来。乔过最后一道三柱门时失了一球，很是光火。弗雷德紧跟其后，这回先轮到他发球，接着才轮到乔。他把球一击，球打在三柱门上，然后停了下来，离球门仅有一英寸之距。大家离得较远，于是跑上来看个究竟。他狡猾地用脚指头把球轻轻一碰，球便刚好滑进了球门。

“我进了！哈，乔小姐，我要把你击败，第一个进球，”年轻人挥舞着球棍叫道，准备再击一球。

“你推了球，我亲眼看见的；这回轮到我，”乔厉声说。

“我发誓，我没动它；球也许是滚了一点，但这并不犯规；还是请站开一点，让我好好击球吧。”“我们美国人不作弊，但你们可以，如果你们喜欢。”乔十分生气。

“美国佬最有手段，这谁不知道。去你的球吧！”弗雷德回击道，把她的球打出老远。

乔张口要骂，却又忍住了，只觉得热血直冲脑门，她怔了一会，用尽全力把一个三柱门捶倒，而弗雷德则击中目标，狂喜地宣布自己胜出。乔走开去拾球，好一会功夫才在矮树丛里把球找到。但她走回来，神态冷静，一言不发，耐心地等着发球。她打了好几球才追回到原来的位置；当她追上时，对方差不多就要赢了，因为凯特的球是倒数第二个，正停在目标旁边。

大家围上前来观看最后一战，弗雷德紧张地叫道：“啊呀，我们完蛋了！不用打了，凯特。乔小姐欠我一球，因此你完了。”“美国佬的手段是对敌人宽宏大量，“乔说着看了他一眼，小伙子脸上腾地红了起来。”尤其是当他们打败敌人的时候，“她接着说，并不去动凯特的球，而是把自己的球漂亮一击，赢了比赛。

劳里把自己的帽子向空中一扔，却突然想起败方是自己的客人，不可太露轻狂，于是赶紧收住喊出嘴边的喝彩声，悄悄跟自己的朋友说：“做得对，乔！他确实是作弊，我也看到了；但我们不能跟他直说，不过他下回不敢再犯了，相信我吧。”梅格把她拉过一边，假装帮她夹起一绺松脱下来的辫子，赞赏地说：“这事叫人怒不可遏，但你竟忍住了，没有发脾气，我真高兴，乔。”“别夸我，梅格，我这会还想赏他一个耳光呢。我刚才在蓖麻树丛里呆了许久，压下一腔怒火才没有出声，要不，早就火冒三丈了。我的火这会还热着呢，所以他最好离我远点，“乔答道，紧咬双唇，从那顶大帽子下面悻悻地瞪了弗雷德一眼。

“该吃午饭了，”布鲁克先生看看手表说，”军需官，你去生火、打水，我跟马奇小姐、莎莉小姐一起布置饭桌，怎么样？哪位擅长煮咖啡？”“乔会。”梅格高兴地推荐妹妹。乔知道自己新近学会的烹饪技术不会给自己丢脸，便走过去摆弄咖啡壶，两个小姑娘捡来干树枝，男孩子生气火，从附近一个水泉打来清水。凯特小姐写生，贝思编结灯心草小垫子来做盘子，弗兰克在一旁跟她拉话儿。

总指挥和他的助手们很快便在桌布上摆满了各式诱人的食物和饮料，并用绿叶点缀得十分雅致。乔宣布咖啡已经煮好，众人各就各位，坐下饱吃一顿。年青人消化能力强，加上做了运动，所以胃口特别好。这顿午餐吃得十分愉快，一切都似乎新鲜有趣，大家谈笑风生，惊动了在近处吃草的一匹老马。饭桌凹凸不平，常常弄得杯碟东倒西歪，十分逗趣，橡树子掉进牛奶里头，小黑蚂蚁不请自来，一起分享美点，爱管闲事的毛虫从树上晃荡下来，想看看发生了什么事。三个白发小童隔着篱笆探头探脑，一只讨厌的狗在河对面向他们汪汪狂吠。

“这里有盐，要不要来一点？”劳里给乔递上一碟草莓，说。

“多谢了，我倒宁可要蜘蛛，”她答着，挑起两只不小心被奶油淹死了的小蜘蛛。”你还敢提那次糟糕透顶的宴会？你自己的办得有声有色，倒来取笑我？”乔又说，于是两人都笑起来，由于瓷碟不够，便凑着一个碟子一起吃。

“我那天玩得特别开心，至今仍意犹未尽这顿午饭我可不敢贪功，你知道，我什么也没做，都是你和梅格、布鲁克他们做的，我对你们真感激不尽呢。我们吃饱后该干什么？”劳里问。吃罢午饭，他觉得下面没棋了。

“玩游戏，直到天凉下来，我带来了-作者-游戏卡。凯特小姐也一定有些好玩的新花样。去问问她吧；她是客人，你该多陪陪她。”“你就不是客人了？我原以为她和布鲁克合得来，但他却老跟梅格说话，凯特只是透过她那副怪眼镜一个劲地瞪着他们。我去了，你也不用跟我谈什么礼节规矩，因为你自己就做不来，乔。“凯特确实知道几种新游戏，因姑娘们不愿再吃，男孩们又不能再吃，大家便移到“客厅"玩"废话连篇"的游戏。

“一人起个头，给大家讲故事，内容不拘、长短不限，但要注意一到紧要关头便得停下，第二个人立即接上，如法炮制。如果玩得好，这个游戏十分有趣，里头故事杂乱无章，或悲或喜，令人捧腹。请起个头，布鲁克先生，”凯特用一种命令式的语气说。梅格对这位私人教师十分敬重，把他跟其他几位男士一样看待，见状不禁大为惊讶。

草地上，布鲁克先生躺在两位年青小姐的脚边遵命起头，漂亮的棕色眼睛凝视着披满阳光的小河。

“从前，一个武士穷得只剩下一把剑和一张盾，于是出去闯世界。他历尽艰辛，周游了差不多二十八年，最后来到一个好心的老国王的宫殿。老国王有一匹心爱的小马，漂亮无比，但尚未驯服，他颁令如有人把这骑马驯好，将获得一笔丰厚的酬金。武士同意试一试，这匹雄壮骁勇的马儿很快就和新主人建立了感情，虽然它性子暴烈，狂野不羁，但还是慢慢被驯服了。每天训练时武士都骑着国王的宝马穿过闹市，边走边四面寻找一张在他梦中出现过无数次的漂亮脸孔，但一直没有找到。一天，当他策马走过一条寂静无人的街道时，他在一座废弃的城堡的窗口里看到了那张动人的脸孔。他惊喜万分，便询问是谁住在这座旧城堡里头，原来是几个被掳来的公主，她们被施了魔咒，关在里头，夜以继日地纺纱织布，以蓄钱赎取自由。武士非常希望能把她们解救出来，但他一贫如洗，只能每天走到那里，盼望着那张美丽的脸孔能再次出现，期望公主能够出来走到阳光下面。最后他决定闯进城堡，看看怎样才能帮助她们。他走过去敲门，大门马上拉开，他看到了——”“一位绝色佳人，她狂喜地大叫一声，高呼：-盼到啦！盼到啦！-”凯特接上故事，她读过法国小说，喜欢那种风格。

“-是她！古斯塔夫伯爵叫道，欣喜若狂地跪在她的脚下*-

啊，起来！-她伸出纤纤玉手说道-不！除非你告诉我怎样才能把你救出樊牢，”武士跪在那里发誓-呵，残酷的命运把我囚在这里，暴君不死，我就没有出头之日——恶棍在哪里？——在紫红色的大厅里。去吧，勇敢的爱人，快把我救出绝境——遵命，我一定与他决一死战！-说完这几句豪言壮语后，他冲出去，砰的一声打开紫红色大厅的大门，正要走进去，却遭到——”“一下痛击，一个披黑衣的老家伙向他下了手，”内德说，”某某爵士马上回过神来，把暴君丢出窗外，转身去与佳人相会，顶着眉头上的大包，凯旋而归；但却发现门被锁上了，只好撕破窗帘做成一张绳梯，下到半途绳梯突然断裂，他一头栽进六十英尺下面的护城河。他熟谙水性，涉水绕城堡而行，最后来到一扇有两壮汉守着的小门，把两个脑袋互相对碰，直碰得格格作响，接着，大力士毫不费劲便破门而入，走上一段石阶，上面积满了一英尺厚的灰尘，癞蛤蟆跟你的拳头一样大，蜘蛛准把你吓得歇斯底里尖叫，马奇小姐。在石阶上头，他蓦地看到了一东西，令他大惊失色，毛骨悚然，他看到——”“一个高高的身影，穿着一身白衣服，脸上蒙了０一条脸纱，瘦骨嶙峋的手提着一盏灯，”梅格续上去，”它招招手，无声无息地沿着一条像坟墓一样黑暗冰凉的走廊滑行。披着盔甲的塑像阴森森地站立两边，周围一片死寂，灯火喷出蓝光，鬼影不时向他转过脸来，两只恐怖的眼睛透过白色脸纱发出闪闪幽光。他们走到一扇挂了帘子的门前，门后面突然响起悦耳的音乐；他跳上前要走进去，幽灵把他拽了回来，威胁地在他面前扬着一个——”“鼻烟盒，”乔阴声阴气地说，众人听得毛发倒竖，”-有劳了，-武士礼貌地说，一面拈了一撮儿，随即重重地打了七个大喷嚏，震得脑袋都掉了下来-哈！哈！-鬼魂发出笑声。

恶鬼透过钥匙孔看到公主们仍在纺线赎取新生，便捡起它的牺牲品，把他放进一个大锡箱子里，箱里头还密密麻麻地塞了十一个无头武士，他们全站起身来，开始——”“跳号笛舞，”弗雷德趁乔停下歇口气时插进来，”他们跳舞时，废旧城堡变成一艘风帆的战船-向风打三角帆，收紧中桅帆扬帆索，背风转舵，开炮！-船长吼叫道。此时一艘前桅飘着一面黑旗的葡萄牙海盗船正驶入视线。”冲啊，伙伴们！”船长说，于是一场大战开始了。当然是英方打赢罗，他们向来都是赢家。“不对！”乔在一边叫道。

“把海盗船长俘虏后，战船直驶过纵帆船，纵帆船甲板上堆满了尸体，鲜血从下风排水孔流了出来，因为他们的命令是-拼死肉搏！——副水手长，拿个三角帆帆脚索绳耳来，如果这坏蛋不赶快招供，就把他干掉，-英国舰只的船长说道。

但那葡萄牙人像条好汉一样咬紧牙关，于是让他走跳板。快乐的水手们欢呼若狂。但那狡猾的家伙潜在水中，游到战船下面，把船底凿穿，扬满风帆的船儿沉了下去，-往海底，海，海，-那儿——”“噢，天啊！我该说什么？”莎莉叫道。此时弗雷德收住了他的连篇废话，这些乱七八糟的水手用语和生活描写全取材于他最喜欢的一本书。”唔，他们沉落海底，一条美丽的美人鱼迎接他们，看到装着无头武士的箱子，美人鱼十分伤心，便好心地把他们腌在盐水里，希望能发现他们的秘密，因为她是个女人，好奇心很强。后来，有个人潜水下来，美人鱼便说：-如果你可以把箱子拿上去，我便把这箱珠宝送给你-她很想这些可怜的武士重获新生，但自己却无力举起这个沉重的箱子。潜水者便把箱子举上来，打开一看，里头并无珠宝，大为失望，便把箱子弃在一片人迹罕至的荒野里，被一个——”“小牧羊女发现了。小姑娘在这片地里养了一百只肥鹅，”艾美在莎莉才思枯竭时接着说，”她很替武士们难过，便请教一位老妇人怎样才能帮助他们-你的鹅会告诉你的，它们无所不知，-老妇人说。她接着又问旧脑袋掉了应该用什么再装上去做新脑袋，只见那一百只鹅张开嘴巴齐齐尖叫——”“-卷心菜！-"劳里立即接上去，“-就是它了，-姑娘说道，跑到自己的园子里摘了十二个大卷心菜。她把卷心菜放上去，武士们马上复活了，谢过小牧羊女后，欣喜上路，并不知道自己换了脑袋，因为世界上跟他们一样的脑袋太多了，谁也没想到自己的有什么不同。我感兴趣的那位武士走回去找佳人，得悉公主们已纺纱赎回自由，除了一个外已全部出嫁了。武士听罢心潮起伏难平，跨上一直与他患难与共的小马，冲到城堡，看看留下来的是谁。他隔着树篱偷窥，看到他心爱的公主正在花园里采花-能给我一朵玫瑰吗？-他问道-你得自己过来拿。我不能走近你，这样有失体统，-佳人柔声说道。他试图爬过树篱，但它似乎越长越高；然后他想冲破树篱，但它却越长越浓密。他一筹莫展，于是耐心地把细树枝一枝一枝折断，开了一个小洞，从洞里望进去，哀求道：-让我进来吧！让我进来吧！-但美丽的公主似乎并不明白，依然平静地摘她的玫瑰，任由他孤身奋战。他有没有冲进去呢？弗兰克会告诉大家。“我不会，我没有玩，我从来都不玩，”弗兰克说道。他不知道怎样才能把这对荒唐的情人从感情的困境中解救出来。贝思早躲到乔的身后，格莱丝则睡着了。

“那么说可怜的武士就被困在树篱一边了，对吗？”布鲁克先生眼睛仍然凝视着小河，手里把玩着插在钮孔上的野玫瑰，问道。

“我想后来公主给他一束玫瑰，并把门打开，”劳里说，笑着向他的家庭教师扔橡树子。

“看我们凑了篇什么样的废话！多实践的话我们或许能做出点名堂呢？你们知道-真言-吗？”当大家笑过自己作的故事后，莎莉问。

“但愿我知道，”梅格认真地说。

“我的意思是这个游戏。”

“怎么玩？”弗雷德问。

“哦，这样，大家把手叠起来，选一个数字，然后轮流抽出手，抽到这个数字的人得老实回答其他人提出的问题。很好玩的。”“我们试试吧，”喜欢新花样的乔说。

凯特小姐、布鲁克先生、梅格和内德退出了。弗雷德、莎莉、乔和劳里开始玩这个游戏，劳里抽中了。

“谁是你的偶像？”乔问。

“爷爷和拿破仑。”

“你认为这里哪位女士最漂亮？”莎莉问。

“玛格丽特。”

“你最喜欢哪一位？”弗雷德问。

“乔，那还用说。”

劳里说得一本正经，大家全笑起来。乔轻蔑地耸耸肩，说：“你们问得真无聊！“再玩一回；-真言-这个游戏挺不错，”弗雷德说。

“对你来说是个好游戏，”乔低声反驳道。这回轮到她了。

“你最大的缺点是什么？”弗雷德问，借此试探她是否诚实，因为他自己缺乏的正是这种品格。

“品性急躁。”

“你最希望什么？”劳里问。

“一对靴带。”乔一面揣测他的用意，一面挫败了他的目的。

“回答不老实；你必须说出你真正最希望什么。”“智慧；难道你不希望你可以给我吗，劳里？”她望着地那张失望的脸孔狡黠地一笑。

“你最敬慕男士什么品格？”莎莉问。

“勇敢真诚。”

“现在该我了，”弗雷德说道，他最后抽中了。

“我们来问问他，”劳里向乔耳语，乔点点头，立即问——“槌球比赛你有没有作弊？”“嗯，唔，有那么一点点。”“好！你的故事是不是取自《海狮》？”劳里问。

“有些是。”

“你是不是认为英国民族完美无瑕？”莎莉问。

“不这样认为我就惭愧死了。”

“真是条不折不扣的约翰牛。好了，莎莉小姐，该轮到你了，不必等抽签。我要问你一个问题，先折磨一下你的感情。你觉得自己是不是有几分卖弄风情？“劳里说。乔则向弗雷德点点头，表示和解。

“好个鲁莽的小伙子！当然不是，”莎莉叫道，那种做作的神态说明事实恰恰相反。

“你最恨什么？”弗雷德问。

“蜘蛛和稻米布丁”

“你最喜欢什么？”乔问。

“跳舞和法国手套。”

“哦，我看-真言-是个无聊透顶的把戏；不如换个有意思的，我们玩-作者-来提神吧，”乔提议。

内德、弗兰克和小姑娘们也加入这个游戏，三个年长一点的则坐到另一边闲扯。凯特小姐又拿出她的写生本，梅格看着她画，布鲁克先生则躺在草地上，手里拿着一本书，却又不看。

“你画得真棒！真希望我也会画，”梅格说道，声音夹杂着仰慕和遗憾。

“那你为什么不学？我倒认为你有这方面的鉴赏力和才华，”凯特小姐礼貌地回答。

“我没有时间。”

“可能你妈妈希望你别有建树吧，我想，我妈妈也一样，但我悄悄学了几课，把我的才华证明给她看，她便同意我继续学了。你也一样可以跟自己的家庭教师悄悄学啊？”“我没有家庭教师。”“我倒忘了美国姑娘大多都上学堂，跟我们不一样。爸爸说，这些学校都很气派。我猜你上的是私立学校吧？”“我根本不上学。我自己便是个家庭教师。”“噢，是吗！”凯特小姐说，但她倒不如直说：“天啊，真丢人！”因为她的语气分明有这个意思。她脸上的神情使梅格涨红了脸，直懊悔自己刚才太坦诚。

布鲁克先生抬起头，机智地说道：“美国姑娘跟她们的祖先一样热爱独立，她们自食其力，并因此而受到敬重。”“噢，不错，她们这样做当然很好、很正当。我们也有不少体面高尚的年轻女士这样做，受雇于贵族阶层。因为，作为绅士的女儿，她们都很有教养和建树，你知道，”凯特小姐用一种居高临下的腔调说道，这话使梅格的自尊心受到了伤害，使她的工作变得不但更加讨厌，而且更加丢人了。

“德文歌合你的心意吗，马奇小姐？”布鲁克先生打破令人尴尬的沉默，问道。

“哦，当然！那支歌优美极了，我十分感激替我翻译的那个人哩。”梅格阴云满布的脸孔在说话时又有了生气。

“你不会念德文吗？”凯特小姐惊讶地问。

“念得不大好。我父亲原来教我，但现在不在家，我独个儿进展不快，因为没有人纠正我的发音。”“不如现在就念一点；这里有一本席勒的《玛丽-斯图亚特》，还有一位愿意教你的家庭老师。”布鲁克先生把他的书放在她膝上，向她粲然一笑。

“这本书太难，我不敢试，”梅格说道。她十分感激，但在一位多才多艺的年轻女士面前又感到很不好意思。

“我先读几句来鼓励你，”凯特小姐说着把最优美的其中一段朗诵一遍，读得一字不差，但却毫无表情，十分呆板。

布鲁克先生听完后不置评论，凯特小姐把书交回梅格，梅格天真地说道：“我想这是诗歌。”“有些是。读读这段吧。”布鲁克先生把书翻到可怜的玛丽的挽歌一页，嘴角挂着一丝罕见的微笑。

梅格顺着她的新教师用来指点的长草叶羞涩地慢慢读下去。她的声调悦耳轻柔，那些生涩难读的字句不知不觉全变得如诗如歌。绿草叶一路指下去，把梅格带到悲泣哀怨的境界，她旋即忘掉了自己的听众，旁若无人地往下读，读到不幸的女王说的话时，声调带了一点哽咽。假使她当时看到了那对棕色眼睛，她一定会突然停下；但她没有抬头，这堂课于是得以圆满结束。

“精彩之极！”布鲁克先生待她停下来的时候说道。其实她读错了不少单词，但他忽略不提，俨然一副"愿意教"的模样。

凯特小姐带上眼镜，把眼前的小场面研究了一回，然后合上写生本，屈尊说道：“你的口音挺漂亮，日后可以做个伶俐的朗诵者。

我建议你学一学，因为德语对于教师来说是一种很有价值的建树。我得去照看格莱丝，她在乱蹦乱跳呢。”凯蒂小姐说着慢慢走开了。又自言自语地耸耸肩。“我不可是来陪一个女家庭教师的，虽然她确实年轻貌美。这些美国佬真是怪人；劳里跟她们一起兴许会学坏了哩。”“我忘了英国人瞧不起女家庭教师，不像我们那样对待她们，”梅格望着凯特小姐远去的身影懊恼地说道。

“可悲的是，据我所知，男家庭教师在那边日子也不好过。

对于我们这行来说，再没有比美国更好的地方了，玛格丽特小姐。”布鲁克先生的样子显得如此满足如此快乐，梅格也不好意思再哀叹自己命苦了。

“那我真高兴我生活在美国。我不喜欢我的工作，不过我还是从中得到很大的满足，所以我不会抱怨；我只希望我能像你一样喜欢教书。”“如果你有劳里这样的学生，我想你就会喜欢的。可惜我明年就要失去他了，”布鲁克先生边说边在草坪上猛劲戳洞。

“上大学，是吗？”梅格嘴里这样问，眼睛却在说：“那你自己呢？”“是的，该上大学了，因为他已准备好了；他一走，我就参军。部队需要我。”“我真高兴！“梅格叫道，”我也认为每个年青人都应该有这个心愿，虽然留在家里的母亲和姐妹们会感到难过。”她说着伤心起来。

“我没有母亲姐妹，在乎我死活的朋友也寥寥无几，”布鲁克先生有点苦涩地说道。他心不在焉地把蔫玫瑰放到戳好的洞里，把它像座小坟墓似地用土盖上。

“劳里和他爷爷就会十分在乎；如果万一你受了伤，我们也全会很难过的，”梅格真心地说。

“谢谢，听到你这样说我很高兴，”布鲁克先生振作起来，说道。

一语未毕，内德骑着那匹老马笨拙地走过来，在女士们面前炫耀他的骑术，于是天下大乱，这一天再也没有安宁。

“你喜欢骑马吗？”格莱丝问艾美。平时她俩刚刚和大家一起跟着内德绕田野跑一圈，这时站着在歇气。

“爱得不得了；我爸爸有钱那时候我姐姐梅格常常骑，但我们现在没有马了，只有-爱伦树。”“跟我说说，”爱伦树-是一头驴子吗？”格莱丝好奇地问。

“嘿，你不知道，乔爱马爱得发疯，我也一样，但我们没有马，只有一个旧横鞍。我们园子外头有一棵苹果树，长了一个漂亮的低树丫，乔便把马鞍放上去，在翘起处系上缰绳，我们什么时候来了兴致，便跳上-爱伦树。”“多有趣！”格莱丝笑了。”我家里有一匹小马，我几乎每天都和弗兰德和凯特一起去公园骑马；这是一种享受，因为我的朋友们也去，整个罗瓦都是绅士淑女们的身影。”“哎呀，多带劲！我希望能有一天到国外走走，但我宁愿去罗马，不去罗瓦，”艾美说。她根本不知道罗瓦是什么，也不愿向人请教。

坐在两个小姑娘后面的弗雷克听到了她们说话。看到生龙活虎般的小伙子们在做各种各样有趣的体操动作，他很不耐烦地一把推开自己的拐杖。贝思正在收拾散乱一地的"作者"卡片，闻声抬起头来，羞怯而友好地问：“我想你累了吧；我能为你效劳吗？”“跟我说说话吧，求求你；一个人枯坐闷死了，”弗兰克回答。显然他在家里被悉心照料惯了。

对于胆小的贝思来说，即使让她发表拉丁语演说也不会比这更难受；但她现在无处可遁，乔不在身边挡驾，可怜的小伙子又眼巴巴地望着她，她于是勇敢地决心试一试。

“谈什么好呢？”她边收拾卡片边问，正要把卡片扎起来，却洒落了一半。

“嗯，我想听听板球、划艇和打猎这类事情，”弗兰克说道。他尚未懂得自己的兴趣应视身体状况而定。

“上帝！我该怎么办？我对这些一无所知，”贝思想，仓皇之间忘记了小伙子的不幸。她想引他说话，便说：“我从来没见过打猎，不过我猜你对它很在行。”“以前是；但我再也不能打猎了，我跳越一道该死的五栅门时弄伤了腿，再也不能骑马放猎狗了，”弗兰克长叹一声说。

贝思见状直恨自己粗心无知，说错了话。

“你们的鹿儿远比我们丑陋的水牛美丽，”她说道，转身望着大草原寻找灵感，很高兴自己曾读过一本乔十分喜欢的男孩子读物。

事实证明水牛具有镇静功能，而且十分中听。贝思一心一意要让弗兰克乐起来，心里早没有了自己。乔、梅格和艾美看到她竟和一个原来躲避不迭的可怕的男孩子谈得滔滔不绝，全都又惊又喜，贝思对此却全然不觉。

“好心的人儿！她怜悯他，所以对他好，”乔说道，从槌球场那边对着她微笑。

“我一向都说她是个小圣人，”梅格用不容置疑的口吻说。

“我很久都没有听弗兰克笑得这样开心了，”格莱丝对艾美说。平时她们正坐在一处，边谈论玩偶，边用橡果壳做茶具。

“我姐姐贝思是个-吹毛求疵-的姑娘，只要她愿意，”艾美对贝思的成功深感满意，说道。她的意思是"富有魅力"，不过因为格莱丝也不知道这两个词的确切意思，”吹毛求疵"听起来满入耳，而且留下了良好印象。

下午大家看了一场狐狸野鹅的即兴表演，又举行了一场槌球友谊比赛，不觉红日西沉，于是拆除帐篷，收拾盖篮，卸下三柱门，装上船只，全班人马乘着船儿沿河漂流，一面放声高歌。内德动了情，用柔和的颤音唱起一首小夜曲，只听他唱那忧郁的迭句——孤独，孤独，啊！哦，孤独，又唱歌词——我们正当青春妙龄，各自怀有一颗善感的心，呵，为什么要拉开如此冷漠的距离？

他望着梅格，没精打采的像个泄了气的皮球，梅格忍不住扑哧一笑，把他的歌打断了。

“你怎能对我这样无情？”他咕哝道，声音湮没在众人活泼的歌声里，”你一整天都和那个正儿八经的英国女人混在一起，这会儿又让我过不去。”“我并非有意，只是你怪模怪样的，我实在忍不住，”梅格答道，把他第一部分的责备略过不提。说真的她整天都在躲他，因为她对莫法特家的晚会以及后来的闲话记忆犹新。

内德生了气，转头向莎莉寻求安慰，他使着小性子说道：“你说这姑娘是不是一点风情也不懂？”“半点也不懂，不过她是个可人儿，”莎莉回答，虽然坦白了朋友的缺点，但却维护了朋友。

“总之不是个中吃的果仁儿。”内德想说句俏皮话，无奈初出茅庐的年青人功力未到，难免弄巧成拙。

这班小队伍齐集在草坪上告别，诚挚地互道晚安，又互相说再见，因为沃恩姐弟们还要去加拿大。当四姐妹穿过花园回家时，凯特小姐在后面望着她们，说：“尽管美国姑娘感情外露，但一旦你了解了她们，便知道她们十分迷人。”这时她已收起了那副居高临下的腔调。

“我完全同意，”布鲁克先生说。