Jo's Boys (Little Women 3)

“You play, I’ll rest,” added the fat boy, yearning for repose and gentle converse with the Princess in the cooling shade.

“Well, you can comfort Bess, for I’ve beaten her all to bits and she needs amusing. I know you’ve got something nice in your pocket, George; give her some, and ’Dolphus can have her racket. Now then, fly round” and driving her prey before her, Josie returned in triumph to the court.

Casting himself ponderously upon the bench, which creaked under his weight, Stuffy—as we will continue to call him, though no one else dared to use the old name now—promptly produced the box of confectionery, without which he never travelled far, and regaled Bess with candied violets and other dainties, while Dolly worked hard to hold his own against a most accomplished antagonist. He would have beaten her if an unlucky stumble, which produced an unsightly stain upon the knee of those new shorts, had not distracted his mind and made him careless. Much elated at her victory, Josie permitted him to rest, and offered ironical consolation for the mishap which evidently weighed upon his mind.

“Don’t be an old Betty; it can be cleaned. You must have been a cat in some former state, you are so troubled about dirt; or a tailor, and lived for clothes.”

“Come now, don’t hit a fellow when he is down,” responded Dolly from the grass where he and Stuffy now lay to make room for both girls on the seat. One handkerchief was spread under him, and his elbow leaned upon another, while his eyes were sadly fixed upon the green and brown spot which afflicted him. “I like to be neat; don’t think it civil to cut about in old shoes and grey flannel shirts before ladies. Our fellows are gentlemen, and dress as such,” he added, rather nettled at the word “tailor” for he owed one of those too attractive persons an uncomfortably big bill.

“So are ours; but good clothes alone don’t make a gentleman here. We require a good deal more,” flashed Josie, in arms at once to defend her college. “You will hear of some of the men in ‘old boots and grey flannel’ when you and your fine gentlemen are twiddling your ties and scenting your hair in obscurity. I like old boots and wear them, and I hate dandies; don’t you, Bess?”

“Not when they are kind to me, and belong to our old set,” answered Bess, with a nod of thanks to Dolly, who was carefully removing an inquisitive caterpillar from one of her little russet shoes.

“I like a lady who is always polite, and doesn’t snap a man’s head off if he has a mind of his own; don’t you, George?” asked Dolly, with his best smile for Bess and a Harvard stare of disapprobation for Josie.

A tranquil snore was Stuffy’s sole reply, and a general laugh restored peace for the moment. But Josie loved to harass the lords of creation who asserted themselves too much, and bided her time for another attack till she had secured more tennis. She got another game; for Dolly was a sworn knight of dames, so he obeyed her call, leaving Bess to sketch George as he lay upon his back, his stout legs crossed, and his round red face partially eclipsed by his hat. Josie got beaten this time and came back rather cross, so she woke the peaceful sleeper by tickling his nose with a straw till he sneezed himself into a sitting posture, and looked wrathfully about for “that confounded fly.”

“Come, sit up and let us have a little elegant conversation; you ‘howling swells’ ought to improve our minds and manners, for we are only poor ‘country girls in dowdy gowns and hats’,” began the gad-fly, opening the battle with a sly quotation from one of Dolly’s unfortunate speeches about certain studious damsels who cared more for books than finery.

“I didn’t mean you! Your gowns are all right, and those hats the latest thing out,” began poor ’Dolphus, convicting himself by the incautious exclamation.

“Caught you that time; I thought you fellows were all gentlemen, civil as well as nice. But you are always sneering at girls who don’t dress well and that is a very unmanly thing to do; my mother said so” and Josie felt that she had dealt a shrewd blow at the elegant youth who bowed at many shrines if they were well-decorated ones.

“Got you there, old boy, and she’s right. You never hear me talk about clothes and such twaddle,” said Stuffy, suppressing a yawn, and feeling for another bon-bon wherewith to refresh himself.

“You talk about eating, and that is even worse for a man. You will marry a cook and keep a restaurant some day,” laughed Josie, down on him at once.

This fearful prediction kept him silent for several moments; but Dolly rallied, and wisely changing the subject, carried war into the enemy’s camp.

“As you wanted us to improve your manners, allow me to say that young ladies in good society don’t make personal remarks or deliver lectures. Little girls who are not out do it, and think it witty; but I assure you it’s not good form.”

Josie paused a moment to recover from the shock of being called “a little girl”, when all the honours of her fourteenth birthday were fresh upon her; and Bess said, in the lofty tone which was infinitely more crushing than Jo’s impertinence:

“That is true; but we have lived all our lives with superior people, so we have no society talk like your young ladies. We are so accustomed to sensible conversation, and helping one another by telling our faults, that we have no gossip to offer you.”

When the Princess reproved, the boys seldom resented it; so Dolly held his peace, and Josie burst out, following her cousin’s lead, which she thought a happy one:

“Our boys like to have us talk with them, and take kindly any hints we give. They don’t think they know everything and are quite perfect at eighteen, as I’ve observed the Harvard men do, especially the very young ones.”

Josie took immense satisfaction in that return shot; and Dolly showed that he was hit, by the nettled tone in which he answered, with a supercilious glance at the hot, dusty, and noisy crowd on the baseball ground:

“The class of fellows you have here need all the polish and culture you can give them; and I’m glad they get it. Our men are largely from the best families all over the country, so we don’t need girls to teach us anything.”

“It’s a pity you don’t have more of such ‘fellows’ as ours. They value and use well what college gives them, and aren’t satisfied to slip through, getting all the fun they can and shirking the work. Oh, I’ve heard you ‘men’ talk, and heard your fathers say they wish they hadn’t wasted time and money just that you might say you’d been through college. As for the girls, you’ll be much better off in all ways when they do get in, and keep you lazy things up to the mark, as we do here.”

“If you have such a poor opinion of us, why do you wear our colour?” asked Dolly, painfully conscious that he was not improving the advantages his Alma Mater offered him, but bound to defend her.

“I don’t; my hat is scarlet, not crimson. Much you know about a colour,” scoffed Josie.

“I know that a cross cow would soon set you scampering, if you flaunted that red tile under her nose,” retorted Dolly.

“I’m ready for her. Can your fine young ladies do this? or you either?” and burning to display her latest accomplishment, Josie ran to the nearest gate, put one hand on the top rail, and vaulted over as lightly as a bird.

Bess shook her head, and Stuffy languidly applauded; but Dolly, scorning to be braved by a girl, took a flying leap and landed on his feet beside Josie, saying calmly:

“Can you do that?”

“Not yet; but I will by and by.”

As his foe looked a little crestfallen, Dolly relented, and affably added sundry feats of a like nature, quite unconscious that he had fallen into a dreadful snare; for the dull red paint on the gate, not being used to such vigorous handling, came off in streaks upon his shoulders when he turned a backward swing and came up smiling, to be rewarded with the aggravating remark:

“If you want to know what crimson is, look at your back; it’s nicely stamped on and won’t wash out, I think.”

“The deuce it won’t!” cried Dolly, trying to get an impossible view, and giving it up in great disgust.

“I

guess we’d better be going, Dolf,” said peaceable Stuffy, feeling that it would be wise to retreat before another skirmish took place, as his side seemed to be getting the worst of it.

“Don’t hurry, I beg; stay and rest; you must need it after the tremendous amount of brain work you’ve done this week. It is time for our Greek. Come, Bess. Good afternoon, gentlemen.” And, with a sweeping courtesy, Josie led the way, with her hat belligerently cocked up, and her racket borne like a triumphal banner over one shoulder; for having had the last word, she felt that she could retire with the honours of war.

Dolly gave Bess his best bow, with the chill on; and Stuffy subsided luxuriously, with his legs in the air, murmuring in a dreamy tone:

“Little Jo is as cross as two sticks today. I’m going in for another nap: too hot to play anything.”