He spoke so kindly, and opened Hans Andersons’s
fairy tales so invitingly before me, that I was more
ashamed than ever, and went at my lesson in a neck-or-nothing
style that seemed to amuse him immensely. I
forgot my bashfulness, and pegged away (no other word
will express it) with all my might, tumbling over
long words, pronouncing according to inspiration of
the minute, and doing my very best. When I finished
reading my first page, and stopped for breath, he
clapped his hands and cried out in his hearty way,
“Das ist gut! Now we go well! My
turn. I do him in German, gif me your ear.”
And away he went, rumbling out the words with his
strong voice and a relish which was good to see as
well as hear. Fortunately the story was The
Constant Tin Soldier, which is droll, you know,
so I could laugh, and I did, though I didn’t
understand half he read, for I couldn’t help
it, he was so earnest, I so excited, and the whole
thing so comical.
After that we got on better, and now I read my lessons
pretty well, for this way of studying suits me, and
I can see that the grammar gets tucked into the tales
and poetry as one gives pills in jelly. I like
it very much, and he doesn’t seem tired of it
yet, which is very good of him, isn’t it?
I mean to give him something on Christmas, for I
dare not offer money. Tell me something nice,
Marmee.
I’m glad Laurie seems so happy and busy, that
he has given up smoking and lets his hair grow.
You see Beth manages him better than I did.
I’m not jealous, dear, do your best, only don’t
make a saint of him. I’m afraid I couldn’t
like him without a spice of human naughtiness.
Read him bits of my letters. I haven’t
time to write much, and that will do just as well.
Thank Heaven Beth continues so comfortable.
JANUARY
A Happy New Year to you all, my dearest family, which
of course includes Mr. L. and a young man by the
name of Teddy. I can’t tell you how much
I enjoyed your Christmas bundle, for I didn’t
get it till night and had given up hoping. Your
letter came in the morning, but you said nothing about
a parcel, meaning it for a surprise, so I was disappointed,
for I’d had a ‘kind of feeling’ that
you wouldn’t forget me. I felt a little
low in my mind as I sat up in my room after tea, and
when the big, muddy, battered-looking bundle was brought
to me, I just hugged it and pranced. It was so
homey and refreshing that I sat down on the floor and
read and looked and ate and laughed and cried, in
my usual absurd way. The things were just what
I wanted, and all the better for being made instead
of bought. Beth’s new ‘ink bib’
was capital, and Hannah’s box of hard gingerbread
will be a treasure. I’ll be sure and wear
the nice flannels you sent, Marmee, and read carefully
the books Father has marked. Thank you all,
heaps and heaps!
Speaking of books reminds me that I’m getting
rich in that line, for on New Year’s Day Mr.
Bhaer gave me a fine Shakespeare. It is one he
values much, and I’ve often admired it, set
up in the place of honor with his German Bible, Plato,
Homer, and Milton, so you may imagine how I felt when
he brought it down, without its cover, and showed
me my own name in it, “from my friend Friedrich
Bhaer”.
