怡人的草地

Like sunshine after a storm were the peaceful weeks whichfollowed. The invalids improved rapidly, and Mr. March beganto talk or returning early in the new year. Beth was soon ableto lie on the study sofa all day, amusing herself with thewell-beloved cats at first, and in time with doll's sewing, which hadfallen sadly behindhand. Her once active limbs were so stiffand feeble that Jo took her for a daily airing about the housein her strong arms. Meg cheerfully blackened and burned herwhite hands cooking delicate messes for `the dear', while Amy,a loyal slave of the ring, celebrated her return by giving away asmany of her treasures as she could prevail on her sisters to accept.

As Christmas approached, the usual mysteries began to hauntthe house, and Jo frequently convulsed the family by proposingutterly impossible or magnificently absurd ceremonies, in honorof this unusually merry Christmas. Laurie was equally impracticable,and would have had bonfires, skyrockets, and triumphal arches,if he had had his own way. After many skirmishes and snubbings,the ambitious pair were considered effectually quenchedand went about with forlorn faces, which were rather beliedby explosions of laughter when the two got together.

Several days of unusually mild weather fitly ushered in asplendid Christmas Day. Hannah `felt in her bones' that it wasgoing to be an unusually fine day, and she proved herself atrue prophetess, for everybody and everything seemed bound toproduce a grand success. To begin with, Mr. March wrote thathe should soon be with them, then Beth felt uncommonly wellthat morning, and, being dressed in her mother's gift, a softcrimson merino wrapper, was borne in high triumph to the windowto behold the offering of Jo and Laurie. The Unquenchables haddone their best to be worthy of the name, for like elves theyhad worked by night and conjured up a comical surprise. Out inthe garden stood a stately snow maiden, crowned with holly,bearing a basket of fruit and flowers in one hand, a great rollof music in the other, a perfect rainbow of an Afghan round herchilly shoulders, and a Christmas carol issuing from her lipson a pink paper streamer.

THE JUNGFRAU TO BETH

God bless you, dear Queen Bess!
May nothing you dismay,
But health and peace and happiness
Be yours, this Christmas day.
Here's fruit to feed our busy bee,And flowers for her nose.
Here's music for her pianee,
An afghan for her toes,

A portrait of Joanna, see,
By Raphael No. 2,
Who laboured with great industry
To make it fair and true.

Accept a ribbon red, I beg,
For Madam Purrer's tail,
And ice cream made by lovely Peg,
A Mont Blanc in a pail.

Their dearest love my makers laid
Within my breast of snow.
Accept it, and the Alpine maid,
From Laurie and from Jo.

How Beth laughed when she saw it, how Laurie ran up anddown to bring in the gifts, and what ridiculous speeches Jomade as she presented them.

"I'm so full of happiness, that if Father was only here, Icouldn't hold one drop more," said Beth, quite sighing withcontentment as Jo carried her off to the study to rest after theexcitement, and to refresh herself with some of the deliciousgrapes the `Jungfrau' had sent her.

"So am I," added Jo, slapping the pocket wherein reposedthe long-desired UNDINE AND SINTRAM.

"I'm sure I am," echoed Amy, poring over the engraved copyof the Madonna and Child, which her mother had given her in apretty frame.

"Of course I am!" cried Meg, smoothing the silvery folds ofher first sild dress, for Mr. Laurence had insisted on giving it."How can I be otherwise?" said Mrs. March gratefully, as hereyes went from her husband's letter to Beth's smiling face, andher hand carressed the brooch made of gray and golden, chestnutand dark brown hair, which the girls had just fastened on herbreast.

Now and then, in this workaday world, things do happen inthe delightful storybook fashion, and what a comfort it is. Halfan hour after everyone had said they were so happy they couldonly hold one drop more, the drop came. Laurie opened the parlordoor and popped his head in very quietly. He might just as wellhave turned a somersault and uttered an Indian war whoop, for hisface was so full of suppressed excitement and his voice sotreacherously joyful that everyone jumped up, though he only said,in a queer, breathless voice, "Here's another Christmas presentfor the March family."

Before the words were well out of his mouth, he was whiskedaway somehow, and in his place appeared a tall man, muffled up tothe eyes, leaning on the arm of another tall man, who tried to saysomething and couldn't. Of course there was a general stampede,and for several minutes everybody seemed to lose their wits, forthe strangest things were done, and no one said a word.

Mr. March became invisible in the embrace of four pairs ofloving arms. Jo disgraced herself by nearly fainting away, andhad to be doctored by Laurie in the china closet. Mr. Brookekissed Meg entirely by mistake, as he somewhat incoherentlyexplained. And Amy, the dignified, tumbled over a stool, and neverstopping to get up, hugged and cried over her father's boots inthe most touching manner. Mrs. March was the first to recoverherself, and held up her hand with a warning, "Hush! Remember Beth."

But it was too late. The study door flew open, the littlered wrapper appeared on the threshold, joy put strength into thefeeble limbs, and Beth ran straight into her father's arms. Nevermind what happened just after that, for the full hearts overflowed,washing away the bitterness of the past and leaving only thesweetness of the present.

It was not at all romantic, but a hearty laugh set everybodystraight again, for Hannah was discovered behind the door, sobbingover the fat turkey, which she had forgotten to put down when sherushed up from the kitchen. As the laugh subsided, Mrs. March beganto thank Mr. Brooke for his faithful care of her husband, at whichMr. Brooke suddenly remembered that Mr. March needed rest, andseizing Laurie, he precipitately retired. Then the two invalidswere ordered to repose, which they did, by both sitting in onebig chair and talking hard.

Mr. March told how he had longed to surprise them, and how,when the fine weather came, he had been allowed by his doctor, totake advantage of it, how devoted Brooke had been, and how he wasaltogether a most estimable and upright young man. Why Mr. Marchpaused a minute just there, and after a glance at Meg, who wasviolently poking the fire, looked at his wife with an inquiringlift of the eyebrows, I leave you to imagine. Also why Mrs.March gently nodded her head and asked, rather abruptly, if hewouldn't like to have something to eat. Jo saw and understoodthe look, and she stalked grimly away to get wine and beef tea,muttering to herself as she slammed the door, "I hate estimableyoung men with brown eyes!"

There never was such a Christmas dinner as they had that day.The fat turkey was a sight to behold, when Hannah sent him up,stuffed, browned, and decorated. So was the plum pudding, whichmelted in one's mouth, likewise the jellies, in which Amy reveledlike a fly in a honeypot. Everything turned out well, which wasa mercy, Hannah said, "For my mind was that flustered, Mum, thatit's a merrycle I didn't roast the pudding, and stuff the turkeywith raisins, let alone bilin' of it in a cloth."

Mr. Laurence and his grandson dined with them, also Mr.Brooke, at whom Jo glowered darkly, to Laurie's infinite amusement.Two easy chairs stood side by side at the head of the table, inwhich sat Beth and her father, feasting modestly on chicken and alittle fruit. They drank healths, told stories, sang songs,`reminisced', as the old folks say, and had a thoroughly good time.A sleigh ride had been planned, but the girls would not leave theirfather, so the guests departed early, and as twilight gathered, thehappy family sat together round the fire.

"Just a year ago we were groaning over the dismal Christmas weexpected to have. Do you remember?" asked Jo, breaking a shortpause which had followed a long conversation about many things.

"Rather a pleasant year on the whole!" said Meg, smiling atthe fire, and congratulating herself on having treated Mr. Brookewith dignity.

"I think it's been a pretty hard one," observed Amy, watchingthe light shine on her ring with thoughtful eyes.

"i'm glad it's over, because we've got you back," whisperedBeth, who sat on her father's knee.

"Rather a rough road for you to travel, my little pilgrims,especially the latter part of it. But you have got on bravely,and I think the burdens are in a fair way to tumble off very soon,"said Mr. March, looking with fatherly satisfaction at the fouryoung faces gathered round him.

"How do you know? Did Mother tell you?' asked Jo.

"Not much. Straws show which way the wind blows, and I'vemade several discoveries today."

"Oh, tell us what they are!" cried Meg, who sat beside him.

"Here is one." And taking up the hand which lay on the armof his chair, he pointed to the roughened forefinger, a burn onthe back, and two or three little hard spots on the palm. "Iremember a time when this hand was white and smooth, and yourfirst care was to keep it so. It was very pretty then, but tome it is much prettier now, for in this seeming blemishes I reada little history. A burnt offering has been made to vanity, thishardened palm has earned something better than blisters, and I'msure the sewing done by these pricked fingers will last a longtime, so much good will went into the stitches. Meg, my dear,I value the womanly skill which keeps home happy more than whitehands or fashionable accomplishments. I'm proud to shake thisgood, industrious little hand, and hope I shall not soon beasked to give it away."

If Meg had wanted a reward for hours of patient labor, shereceived it in the hearty pressure of her father's hand and theapproving smile he gave her.

"What about Jo? Please say something nice, for she has triedso hard and been so very, very good to me," said Beth in her father'sear.

He laughed and looked across at the tall girl who sat opposite,with and unusually mild expression in her face.

"In spite of the curly crop, I don't see the `son Jo' whom Ileft a year ago," said Mr. March. "I see a young lady who pinsher collar straight, laces her boots neatly, and neither whistles,talks slang, nor lies on the rug as she used to do. Her face israther thin and pale just now, with watching and anxiety, but Ilike to look at it, for it has grown gentler, and her voice islower. She doesn't bounce, but moves quietly, and takes care ofa certain little person in a motherly way which delights me. Irather miss my wild girl, but if I get a strong, helpful,tenderhearted woman in her place, I shall feel quite satisfied.I don't know whether the shearing sobered our black sheep, but I doknow that in all Washington I couldn't find anything beautiful enoughto be bought with the five-and-twenty dollars my good girl sent me."

Jo's keen eyes were rather dim for a minute, and her thinface grew rosy in the firelight as she received her father's praise,feeling that she did deserve a portion of it.

"Now, Beth," said Amy, longing for her turn, but ready to wait.

"There's so little of her, I'm afraid to say much, for fearshe will slip away altogether, though she is not so shy as she usedto be," began their father cheerfully. But recollecting how nearlyhe had lost her, he held her close, saying tenderly, with her cheekagainst his own, "I've got you safe, my Beth, and I'll keep you so,please God."

After a minute's silence, he looked down at Amy, who sat onthe cricket at his feet, and said, with a caress of the shininghair...

"I observed that Amy took drumsticks at dinner, ran errandsfor her mother all the afternoon, gave Meg her place tonight, andhas waited on every on with patience and good humor. I alsoobserve that she does not fret much nor look in the glass, and hasnot even mentioned a very pretty ring which she wears, so Iconclude that she has learned to think of other people more and ofherself less, and has decided to try and mold her character ascarefully as she molds her little clay figures. I am glad ofthis, for though I should be very proud of a graceful statue madeby her, I shall be infinitely prouder of a lovable daughter witha talent for making life beautiful to herself and others."

"What are you thinking of, Beth?" asked Jo, when Amy hadthanked her father and told about her ring.

"I read in PILGRIM'S PROGRESS today how, after many troubles,christian and Hopeful came to a pleasant green meadow where liliesbloomed all year round, and there they rested happily, as we donow, before they went on to their journey's end," answered Beth,adding, as she slipped out of her father's arms and went to theinstrument, "It's singing time now, and I want to be in my oldplace. I'll try to sing the song of the shepherd boy which thePilgrims heard. I made the music for Father, because he likesthe verses."

So, sitting at the dear little piano, Beth softly touched thekeys, and in the sweet voice they had never thought to hear again,sang to her own accompaniment the quaint hymn, which was asingularly fitting song for her.

He that is down need fear no fall,He that is low no pride.
He that is humble ever shall
Have God to be his guide.

I am content with what I have,
Little be it, or much.
And, Lord! Contentment still I crave,Because Thou savest such.

Fulness to them a burden is,
That go on pilgrimage.
Here little, and hereafter bliss,
Is best from age to age!