Louisa May Alcott

with a shy man­ner, a timid voice, and a peace­ful ex­pres­sion, which was sel­dom dis­turbed.

They were all un­usu­ally hun­gry, hav­ing waited nearly an hour, and for a minute no one spoke; only a minute, for Jo ex­claimed im­petu­ously—

“I’m so glad you came be­fore we be­gan!”

“May I go and help carry the things to the poor lit­tle chil­dren?” asked Beth, ea­gerly.

“I shall take the cream and the muffins,” added Amy, hero­ically giv­ing up the ar­ti­cles she most liked.

Meg was al­ready cov­er­ing the buck­wheats, and pil­ing the bread into one big plate.

I hate to think I’ve got to grow up, and be Miss March, and wear long gowns, and look as prim as a China-aster! It’s bad enough to be a girl, any­way,

Tell them I think of them by day, pray for them by night, and find my best com­fort in their af­fec­tion at all times.

“I don’t think it’s fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls noth­ing at all,”

and im­prove your vo­ca­bi­lary

“I de­test rude, un­la­dy­like girls!”

you are al­to­gether too par­tic­u­lar and prim

which were very much in her way

but, dear me, let us be el­e­gant or die!