Jo's Boys (Little Women 3)

“Bless your pretty figger head! I do, and I’ll ship a crew of girls any time you say so. Aren’t they worse than a press-gang to carry a fellow out of his moorings? Don’t we all need one as pilot to steer us safe to port? and why shouldn’t they share our mess afloat and ashore since we are sure to be wrecked without ’em?”

“Good for you, Emil! Nan will take you for first mate after that handsome speech,” said Demi, as the girls applauded, and Tom glowered.

“Now, Dan, you love liberty so well yourself, are you willing we should have it?”

“All you can get, and I’ll fight any man who’s mean enough to say you don’t deserve it.”

This brief and forcible reply delighted the energetic President, and she beamed upon the member from California, as she said briskly:

“Nat wouldn’t dare to say he was on the other side even if he were, but I hope he has made up his mind to pipe for us, at least when we take the field, and not be one of those who wait till the battle is won, and then beat the drums and share the glory.”

Mrs Giddy-gaddy’s doubts were most effectually removed, and her sharp speech regretted, as Nat looked up blushing, but with a new sort of manliness in face and manner, saying, in a tone that touched them all:

“I should be the most ungrateful fellow alive if I did not love, honour, and serve women with all my heart and might, for to them I owe everything I am or ever shall be.”

Daisy clapped her hands, and Bess threw her bouquet into Nat’s lap, while the other girls waved their fans, well pleased; for real feeling made his little speech eloquent.

“Thomas B. Bangs, come into court, and tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, if you can,” commanded Nan, with a rap to call the meeting to order.

Tom shut the umbrella, and standing up raised his hand, saying solemnly:

“I believe in suffrage of all kinds. I adore all women, and will die for them at any moment if it will help the cause.”

“Living and working for it is harder, and therefore more honourable. Men are always ready to die for us, but not to make our lives worth having. Cheap sentiment and bad logic. You will pass, Tom, only don’t twaddle. Now, having taken the sense of the meeting we will adjourn, as the hour for festive gymnastics has arrived. I am glad to see that old Plum has given six true men to the world, and hope they will continue to be staunch to her and the principles she has taught them, wherever they may go. Now, girls, don’t sit in draughts, and, boys, beware of ice-water when you are warm.”

With this characteristic close Nan retired from office, and the girls went to enjoy one of the few rights allowed them.

CHAPTER 6

LAST WORDS

THE NEXT day was Sunday, and a goodly troop of young and old set forth to church—some driving, some walking, all enjoying the lovely weather and the happy quietude which comes to refresh us when the work and worry of the week are over. Daisy had a headache; and Aunt Jo remained at home to keep her company, knowing very well that the worst ache was in the tender heart struggling dutifully against the love that grew stronger as the parting drew nearer.

“Daisy knows my wishes, and I trust her. You must keep an eye on Nat, and let him clearly understand that there is to be no ‘lovering’, or I shall forbid the letter-writing. I hate to seem cruel, but it is too soon for my dear girl to bind herself in any way,” said Mrs Meg, as she rustled about in her best grey silk, while waiting for Demi, who always escorted his pious mother to church as a peace-offering for crossing her wishes in other things.

“I will, dear; I’m lying in wait for all three boys today, like an old spider; and I will have a good talk with each. They know I understand them, and they always open their hearts sooner or later. You look like a nice, plump little Quakeress, Meg; and no one will believe that big boy is your son,” added Mrs Jo, as Demi came in shining with Sunday neatness, from his well-blacked boots to his smooth brown head.

“You flatter me, to soften my heart toward your boy. I know your ways, Jo, and I don’t give in. Be firm, and spare me a scene by and by. As for John, as long as he is satisfied with his old mother, I don’t care what people think,” answered Mrs Meg, accepting with a smile the little posy of sweet peas and mignonette Demi brought her.

Then, having buttoned her dove-coloured gloves with care, she took her son’s arm and went proudly away to the carriage, where Amy and Bess waited, while Jo called after them, just as Marmee used to do:

“Girls, have you got nice pocket-handkerchiefs?” They all smiled at the familiar words, and three white banners waved as they drove away, leaving the spider to watch for her first fly. She did not wait long. Daisy was lying down with a wet cheek on the little hymn-book out of which she and Nat used to sing together; so Mrs Jo strolled about the lawn, looking very like a wandering mushroom with her large buff umbrella.

Dan had gone for a ten-mile stroll; and Nat was supposed to have accompanied him, but presently came sneaking back, unable to tear himself away from the Dovecote or lose a moment of nearness to his idol that last day. Mrs Jo saw him at once, and beckoned him to a rustic seat under the old elm, where they could have their confidences undisturbed, and both keep an eye on a certain white-curtained window, half hidden in vines.

“Nice and cool here. I’m not up to one of Dan’s tramps today—it’s so warm, and he goes so like a steam-engine. He headed for the swamp where his pet snakes used to live, and I begged to be excused,” said Nat, fanning himself with his straw hat, though the day was not oppressive.

“I’m glad you did. Sit and rest with me, and have one of our good old talks. We’ve both been so busy lately, I feel as if I didn’t half know your plans; and I want to,” answered Mrs Jo, feeling sure that though they might start with Leipzig they would bring up at Plumfield.

“You are very kind, and there’s nothing I’d like better. I don’t realize I’m going so far—suppose I shan’t till I get afloat. It’s a splendid start, and I don’t know how I can ever thank Mr Laurie for all he’s done, or you either,” added Nat, with a break in his voice; for he was a tender-hearted fellow, and never forgot a kindness.

“You can thank us beautifully by being and doing all we hope and expect of you, my dear. In the n

ew life you are going to there will be a thousand trials and temptations, and only your own wit and wisdom to rely on. That will be the time to test the principles we have tried to give you, and see how firm they are. Of course, you will make mistakes—we all do; but don’t let go of your conscience and drift along blindly. Watch and pray, dear Nat; and while your hand gains skill, let your head grow wiser, and keep your heart as innocent and warm as it is now.”

“I’ll try, Mother Bhaer, my very best to be a credit to you. I know I shall improve in my music—can’t help it there; but I never shall be very wise, I’m afraid. As for my heart, you know, I leave it behind me in good keeping.”

As he spoke, Nat’s eyes were fixed on the window with a look of love and longing that made his quiet face both manly and sad—plainly showing how strong a hold this boyish affection had upon him.

“I want to speak of that; and I know you will forgive what seems hard, because I do most heartily sympathize with you,” said Mrs Jo, glad to have her say.

“Yes, do talk about Daisy! I think of nothing but leaving and losing her. I have no hope—I suppose it is too much to ask; only I can’t help loving her, wherever I am!” cried Nat, with a mixture of defiance and despair in his face that rather startled Mrs Jo.

“Listen to me and I’ll try to give you both comfort and good advice. We all know that Daisy is fond of you, but her mother objects, and being a good girl she tries to obey. Young people think they never can change, but they do in the most wonderful manner, and very few die of broken hearts.” Mrs Jo smiled as she remembered another boy whom she had once tried to comfort, and then went soberly on while Nat listened as if his fate hung upon her lips.

“One of two things will happen. You will find someone else to love, or, better still, be so busy and happy in your music that you will be willing to wait for time to settle the matter for you both. Daisy will perhaps forget when you are gone, and be glad you are only friends. At any rate it is much wiser to have no promises made; then both are free, and in a year or two may meet to laugh over the little romance nipped in the bud.”