So She Doesn't Call Desertion, Poverty, And

The Humblest Tasks Get Beautified If Loving Hands Do Them.

I'd Have A Stable Full Of Arabian Steeds, Rooms Piled With Books, And I'd Write Out Of A Magic Inkstand, So That My Works Should Be As Famous As Laurie's Music. I Want To Do Something Splendid Before I Go Into My Castle,-something Heroic, Or Wonderful,-that Won't Be Forgotten After I'm Dead. I Don't Know What, But I'm On The Watch For It, And Mean To Astonish You All, Some Day. I Think I Shall Write Books, And Get Rich And Famous; That Would Suit Me, So That Is My Favorite Dream.

When Jo's Conservative Sister Meg Says She Must Turn Up Her Hair Now That She Is A "young Lady," Jo Shouts, "i'm Not! And If Turning Up My Hair Makes Me One, I'll Wear It In Two Tails Till I'm Twenty.... 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, When I Like Boys' Games And Work And Manners! I Can't Get Over My Disappointment In Not Being A Boy; And It's Worse Than Ever Now, For I'm Dying To Go And Fight With Papa, And I Can Only Stay At Home And Knit, Like A Poky Old Woman.

Love Is A Great Beautifier.

Jo's Eyes Sparkled, For It's Always Pleasant To Be Believed In; And A Friend's Praise Is Always Sweeter Than A Dozen Newspaper Puffs.