22 Little Women Read By Stephanie Poppins

Following the female stoic theme, this novel focuses on love, family, morality, and personal growth.
Meg, the eldest, is drawn to marriage and domestic life.
Jo, the headstrong and tomboyish one, pursues her passion for writing.
Beth, the quiet and gentle one, finds solace in music and is tragically affected by illness.
Amy, the youngest and most artistic, navigates her path, ultimately finding success in the art world.

In this episode, a dinner party goes wrong.

Transcript

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

Your go-to podcast that offers you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing now,

And nowhere you need to go.

Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away.

This is your time and your space.

Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.

There is nothing you need to be doing now,

And nowhere you need to go.

Happy listening.

Chapter 11 continued.

Having rekindled the fire,

Jo thought she would go to market while the water heated.

The walk revived her spirits,

And flattering herself she had made good bargains.

She trudged home again after buying a very young lobster,

Some very old asparagus and two boxes of acid strawberries.

By the time she got cleared up,

The dinner arrived and the stove was red-hot.

Hannah had left a pan of bread to rise,

Meg had worked it up early,

Set it on the hearth for a second rising,

And forgotten it.

Meg was entertaining Sally Gardner in the parlour when the door flew open and a flowery,

Crocky,

Flushed and dishevelled figure appeared demanding tartly,

I say,

Isn't bread red enough when it runs over the pans?

Sally began to laugh but Meg nodded and lifted her eyebrows as high as they would go.

This caused the apparition to vanish and put the sour bread into the oven without further delay.

Mrs March,

Meanwhile,

Went out,

After peeping here and there to see how matters went.

She also said a word of comfort to Beth,

Who sat making a winding sheet while the dear departed lay in state in the domino box.

A strange sense of helplessness fell upon the girls as the grey bonnet vanished round the corner and despair seized them when a few minutes later Miss Crocker appeared and said she'd come to dinner.

This lady was a thin,

Yellow spinster with a sharp nose and inquisitive eyes who saw everything and gossiped about all she saw.

They disliked her but had been taught to be kind to her because she was old and poor and had few friends.

So Meg gave her the easy chair and tried to entertain her while she asked questions,

Criticised everything and told stories of the people who she knew.

Stuck in the kitchen,

Jo did her best alone and discovered something more than energy and goodwill is necessary to make a cook.

She boiled the asparagus for an hour,

Was grieved to find the heads cooked off and the stalks harder.

The bread burned black for the salad dressing so aggravated her she let everything else go till she'd convinced herself she could not make it fit to eat.

The lobster was a scarlet mystery but she hammered and poked it till it was unshelled and its meagre portions concealed in a grove of lettuce leaves.

The potatoes had to be hurried,

Not to keep the asparagus waiting,

And were not done.

The blancmange,

Meanwhile,

Was lumpy and the strawberries,

Not as ripe as they looked,

Having been skilfully deaconed.

Well,

They can just eat beef and bread and butter if they're hungry and it's mortifying to have to spend your whole morning for nothing,

She thought as she rang the bell half an hour later than usual.

Poor Jo would gladly have gone under the table as one thing after another was tasted and left.

Amy giggled,

Meg looked distressed,

Miss Crocker pursed up her lips whilst Laurie talked and laughed with all his might to give a cheerful tone to the festive scene.

Jo's one strong point was the fruit.

She'd sugared it well and had a pitcher of rich cream to eat with it.

Her hot cheeks called a trifle and she drew a long breath as the pretty glass plates went round.

Everyone looked graciously at the little rosy islands floating in a sea of cream.

Miss Crocker tasted first,

Made a wry face and drank some water hastily.

Jo,

Who refused,

Thinking there might not be enough,

For they dwindled sadly after the picking over,

Glanced at Laurie,

But he was eating away madly,

Although there was a slight pucker about his mouth.

Amy,

Who was fond of delicate fare,

Took a heaping spoonful,

Choked,

Hid her face in her napkin and left the table precipitately.

What is it?

Exclaimed Jo,

Trembling.

Salt instead of sugar and the cream is sour,

Replied Meg with a tragic gesture.

Jo grunted a groan and fell back in her chair,

Remembering she'd given a last hasty powdering to the berries out of one of two boxes on the kitchen table.

She turned scarlet and was on the verge of crying when she met Laurie's eyes,

Which would look merry in spite of his heroic efforts.

The comical side of the affair suddenly struck her.

Now she laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks,

And so did everyone else.

The unfortunate dinner ended gaily with bread and butter,

Olives and fun.

I haven't strengthened my mind enough to clear up now.

We'll sober ourselves with a funeral,

Said Jo as they rose.

And Miss Crocker made ready to go,

Being eager to tell the new story at another friend's dinner table.

They did sober themselves for Beth's sake.

Laurie dug a grave under the ferns in the grove.

Little Pip was laid in with many tears by his tender-hearted mistress,

While a wreath of violets and chickweed was hung on the stone which bore his epitaph,

Composed by Jo while she struggled with the dinner.

Here lies Pip March,

Who died the 7th of June,

Loved and lamented sore,

And not forgotten soon.

At the conclusion of the ceremonies,

Beth retired to her room,

Overcome with emotion and lobster.

But there was no place of repose,

For the beds were not made,

And she found her grief much assuaged by beating up pillows and putting them in order.

Meg helped Jo clear away the remains of the feast.

That took half the afternoon,

And left them so tired they agreed to be contented with tea and toast for supper.

Laurie took Amy for a drive,

Which was a deed of charity,

For the sour cream seemed to have had a bad effect upon her temper.

Mrs March came home to find the three older girls hard at work in the middle of the afternoon,

And a glance at the closet gave her an idea of the success of one part of the experiment.

Before the housewives could rest,

Several people called,

And there was a scramble to get ready.

Then tea must be got,

Errands done,

And one or two necessary bits of sewing neglected till the last minute.

As twilight fell,

Dewy and still,

One by one they gathered in the porch where the June roses were budding beautifully,

And each groaned or sighed as she sat down as if tired or troubled.

What a dreadful day this has been,

Began Jo,

Usually the first to speak.

It has seemed shorter than usual,

But so uncomfortable,

Said Meg.

Not a bit like home,

Added Amy.

It can't seem so without mummy and little Pip,

Sighed Beth,

Glancing with full eyes at the empty cage.

Then Mrs March came in and took her place among them,

Looking as if her holiday had not been much pleasanter than theirs.

Are you satisfied with your experiment,

Girls,

Or do you want another week of it?

She asked.

I don't,

Cried Jo.

Nor I,

Echoed the others.

The rest turned towards her with brightening faces as flowers turned towards the sun.

Beth,

Meanwhile,

Nestled up close.

You think it's better to have a few duties and live a little for others then,

Do you?

Lounging and larking doesn't pay,

Observed Jo,

Shaking her head.

I'm tired of it,

And I mean to go to work at something right off.

Suppose you learn plain cooking,

That's a useful accomplishment,

Said Mrs March.

Mother,

Cried Meg,

Did you go away and let everything be just to see how we'd get on?

Yes,

I wanted to see how the comfort of all depends on each doing her share faithfully.

While Hannah and I did your work you got on pretty well,

Though I don't think you were very happy or amiable.

A little lesson I thought would show you what happens when everyone only thinks of herself.

Don't you feel it's pleasanter to help one another,

To have daily duties which make leisure sweet when it comes,

And to bear and forbear that home may be comfortable and lovely to us all?

We do,

Mother,

We do,

Cried the girls.

Then let me advise you to take up your little burdens again,

For though they seem heavy sometimes,

They're good for us and they lighten as we learn to carry them.

Work is wholesome and there's plenty for everyone.

It keeps us from mischief,

It's good for health and spirits,

And gives us a sense of power and independence better than money or fashion.

We'll work like bees just to see if we don't,

Said Jo.

I'll learn plain cooking for my holiday task and the next dinner party I'll have will be a success.

I'll make the sets of shirts for Father instead of letting you do it,

Mommy,

Said Meg.

I can and I will,

Though I'm not very fond of sewing.

I'll do my lessons every day and not spend so much time with my music and dolls,

Was Beth's resolution,

Whilst Amy followed their example by heroically declaring,

I shall learn to make buttonholes and attend to my parts of speech.

Very good,

Said Mommy,

Then I'm quite satisfied with the experiment and I fancy we shall not have to repeat it.

Only don't go to the other extreme and delve like slaves.

Have regular hours for work and play.

Make each day useful and pleasant and prove that you understand the worth of time by employing it well.

Then youth will be delightful,

Old age will bring few regrets and life become a beautiful success in spite of poverty.

We'll remember,

Mother,

Said the girls.

And they did.