“Dear Father, help me with the love
    That casteth out my fear;
  Teach me to lean on Thee, and feel
    That Thou art very near: 
  That no temptation is unseen,
    No childish grief too small,
  Since Thou, with patience infinite,
    Doth soothe and comfort all.

  “I do not ask for any crown,
    But that which all may win;
  Nor try to conquer any world
    Except the one within. 
  Be Thou my guide until I find,
    Led by a tender hand,
  Thy happy kingdom in myself,
    And dare to take command.”

Louisa was very imaginative, telling stories to her sisters and her mates, and at sixteen wrote a book for Miss Ellen Emerson, entitled Flower Fables.  It was not published till six years later, and then, being florid in style, did not bring her any fame.  She was now anxious to earn her support.  She was not the person to sit down idly and wait for marriage, or for some rich relation to care for her; but she determined to make a place in the world for herself.  She says in Little Women, “Jo’s ambition was to do something very splendid; what it was she had no idea, as yet, but left it for time to tell her,” and at sixteen the time had come to make the attempt.

She began to teach school with twenty pupils.  Instead of the theological talks which her father gave his scholars, she told them stories, which she says made the one pleasant hour in her school-day.  Now the long years of work had begun—­fifteen of them—­which should give the girl such rich yet sometimes bitter experiences, that she could write the most fascinating books from her own history.  Into her volume called Work, published when she had become famous, she put many of her own early sorrows in those of “Christie.”

Much of this time was spent in Boston.  Sometimes she cared for an invalid child; sometimes she was a governess; sometimes she did sewing, adding to her slender means by writing late at night.  Occasionally she went to the house of Rev. Theodore Parker, where she met Emerson, Sumner, Garrison, and Julia Ward Howe.  Emerson always had a kind word for the girl whom he had known in Concord, and Mr. Parker would take her by the hand and say, “How goes it, my child?  God bless you; keep your heart up, Louisa,” and then she would go home to her lonely room, brave and encouraged.

At nineteen, one of her early stories was published in Gleason’s Pictorial, and for this she received five dollars.  How welcome was this brain-money!  Some months later she sent a story to the Boston Saturday Gazette, entitled The Rival Prima Donnas, and, to her great delight, received ten dollars; and what was almost better still, a request from the editor for another story.  Miss Alcott made the Rival Prima Donnas into a drama, and it was accepted by a theatre, and would have been put upon the stage but for some disagreement among the actors.  However, the young teacher received for her work a pass to the theatre for forty nights.  She even meditated going upon the stage, but the manager quite opportunely broke his leg, and the contract was annulled.  What would the boys and girls of America have lost, had their favorite turned actress!