5 Cont. Little Women Read By Stephanie Poppins

Following on the female stoic theme, this novel focuses on love, family, morality, and personal growth. This novel explores themes of sisterhood, family bonds, love, loss, and the challenges faced by young women in a patriarchal society.

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 art.

In this episode, a Christmas surprise is sent by a benevolent well-wisher.

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 Three To the surprise of everyone,

Hannah suddenly appeared with Mrs March's compliments and would the ladies walk down to supper?

This was a surprise even to the actors,

And when they saw the table they looked at one another in rapturous amazement.

It was just like mommy to get up a little treat for them,

But anything so fine as this was unheard of since the departed days of plenty.

There was ice cream,

Actually two dishes of it,

Pink and white,

And cake and fruit and distracting French bonbons,

And in the middle of the table four great bouquets of hothouse flowers.

It quite took the girls' breath away,

And they stared first at the table and then at their mother,

Who looked as if she enjoyed it immensely.

Is it fairies?

Asked Amy.

It's Santa Claus,

Said Beth.

Mother did it.

Meg smiled her sweetest in spite of her costume of grey beard and white eyebrows.

Aunt Marsh had a good fit and sent the supper,

Cried Jo,

With sudden inspiration.

All wrong,

Replied Mrs.

Marsh.

Old Mr.

Lawrence sent it.

The Lawrence boy's grandfather?

What in the world put such a thing into his head?

We don't even know him.

Hannah told one of his servants about your breakfast party.

He's an odd old gentleman,

But that pleased him.

He knew my father years ago,

And he sent me a polite note this afternoon,

Saying he hoped I'd allow him to express his friendly feeling towards my children by sending them a few trifles in honour of the day.

I could not refuse,

And so you have a little feast at night to make up for the bread-and-milk breakfast.

That boy put it into his head.

I know he did.

He's a capital fellow,

And I wish we could get acquainted.

He looks as if he'd like to know us,

But he's bashful,

And Meg so prims she won't let me speak to him when we pass,

Said Jo,

As the plates went round.

And the ice began to melt out of sight.

You mean the people who live in the big house next door?

Asked one of the girls.

Mother knows old Mr.

Lawrence,

But she says he's very proud and doesn't like to mix with his neighbours.

He keeps his grandson shut up when he isn't riding or walking with his tutor,

And he makes him study very hard.

We invited him to our party,

But he didn't come.

Our cat ran away once,

And he brought her back,

And we talked over the fence,

And were getting all capitally,

All about cricket and everything,

When he saw Meg coming and walked off.

I mean to know him some day,

For he needs fun,

I'm sure he does,

Said Jo decidedly.

I like his manners,

Said Marmy,

And he looks like a little gentleman,

So I've no objection to your knowing him if a proper opportunity comes.

He brought the flowers himself,

And I should have asked him in,

If I'd have been sure what was going upstairs.

He looked so wistful as he went away,

Hearing the frolic,

And evidently having none of his own.

It's a mercy you didn't,

Mother,

Laughed Jo,

Looking at her boots,

But we'll have another play some time that he can see.

Perhaps he'll help act,

Wouldn't that be jolly?

I never had such a fine bouquet before,

How pretty it is,

Said Meg,

Examining her flowers with great interest.

They are lovely,

Said Mrs Marsh,

But Beth's roses are sweeter to me,

And she smelled the half-dead posy in her belt.

Beth nestled up to her and whispered softly,

I wish I could send my bunch to Father,

I'm afraid he isn't having such a merry Christmas as we are.

The Lawrence Boy Jo,

Jo,

Where are you?

Cried Meg,

At the foot of the garret stairs.

Here,

Answered a husky voice from above,

And running up,

Meg found her sister eating apples and crying over the air of Redcliffe,

Wrapped in a comforter on an all-three-legged sofa by the sunny window.

This was Jo's favourite refuge,

And she loved to retire with half a dozen russets and a nice book,

To enjoy the quiet and society of a pet rat who lived nearby,

And didn't mind her a particle.

As Meg appeared,

Scrabble whisked into his hole,

And Jo shook the tears off her cheeks and waited to hear the news.

Such fun!

Only see!

A regular note of invitation from Mrs Gardner for tomorrow night,

Cried Meg,

Waving the precious paper and proceeding to read it with girlish delight.

Mrs Gardner would be happy to see Miss Marsh and Miss Josephine at a little dance on New Year's Eve.

Marmy is willing we should go,

Now what shall we wear?

What's the use of asking that,

When you know we should wear our poplins because we haven't got anything else,

Answered Jo with her mouth full.

If only I had a silk,

Sighed Meg.

Mother says I may when I'm eighteen,

Perhaps,

But two years is an everlasting time to wait.

I'm sure our pops look like silk,

And they're nice enough for us,

Said Jo.

Yours is as good as new,

But I forgot the burn and the tear in mine.

Whatever shall I do?

The burn shows badly and I can't take any out.

You must sit still all you can,

And keep your back out of sight.

The front is all right,

Said Meg.

I shall have a new ribbon for my hair,

And Marmy will lend me her little pearl pin,

And my new slippers are lovely and my gloves will do,

Although they aren't as nice as I'd like.

Mine is spoiled with lemonade,

And I can't get any new ones,

So I shall have to go without,

Said Jo,

Who never troubled herself much about dress.

You must have gloves or I won't go,

Cried Meg decidedly.

Gloves are more important than anything else.

I should be so mortified if you didn't have them.

Then I'll stay still.

I don't much care for company dancing.

It's no fun to go sailing around.

I like to fire about and cut capers.

You can't ask Mother for new ones.

They're so expensive and you are so careless,

Jo.

She said when you spoiled the others,

She shouldn't get you any more this winter.

Can't you make them do?

Asked Meg anxiously.

I can hold them crumpled up in my hands so no one will know how stained they are.

That's all I can do.

No,

I'll tell you how we can manage.

Each one can wear a good one and carry a bad one.

Don't you see?

Your hands are bigger than mine and you'll stretch my glove dreadfully,

Began Meg,

Whose gloves were a tender point with her.

Then I'll go without.

I don't care what people say,

Cried Jo,

Taking up her book.

You may have it,

You may,

Only don't stain it and do behave nicely,

Begged Meg.

Don't put your hands behind your stare or say Christopher Columbus,

Will you?

Don't worry about me,

Said Jo.

I'll be as prim as I can and not get into any scrapes if I can help it.

Now go and answer your note and let me finish this splendid story.

So Meg went away to accept with thanks,

Look over her dress and sing blithely as she did up her one real lace frill while Jo finished her stories,

Her four apples,

And had a game of romps with Scrabble.

On New Year's Eve,

The parlor was deserted for the two younger girls played dressing maids and the two older were absorbed in the all important business of getting ready for the party.

Simple as their toilets were,

There was a great deal of running up and down,

Laughing and talking,

And at one time,

A strong smell of burnt hair pervaded the house.

Meg wanted a few curls about her face,

And Jo undertook to pin the papered locks with a pair of hot tongs.

Ought they to smoke like that,

Asked Beth from her perch on the bed.

Is the dampness drying,

Replied Jo.

What a queer smell,

It's like burnt feathers,

Observed Amy,

Smoothing her own pretty curls with the superior air.

There now,

I'll take off the papers and you'll see a cloud of little ringlets,

Said Jo,

Putting down the tongs.

She did take off the papers,

But no cloud of ringlets appeared,

For the hair came with the papers,

And the horrified hairdresser lay a row of little scorched bundles on the bureau before her victim.

What have you done?

I'm spoiled,

I can't go,

My hair,

My hair,

Wailed Meg,

Looking with despair at the uneven frizzle on her forehead.

Just my luck,

You shouldn't have asked me to do it,

I always spoil everything,

Said Jo.

I'm so sorry,

The tongs were too hot,

So now I've made a mess.

It isn't spoiled,

Just frizzle it and tie your ribbon so the ends come out on your forehead a bit.

It looked like the latest fashion,

Said Amy,

I've seen many girls do it so.

Serves me right for trying to be fine,

Cried Meg petulantly.

I wish I'd left my hair alone.

So do I,

It was so smooth and pretty,

But it'll soon grow out again,

Said Beth,

Coming to kiss and comfort the shorn sheep.

After various lesser mishaps,

Meg was finished at last,

And by the united exertions of the family,

Jo's hair was got up and her dress on.

They looked very well in their simple suits.

Meg in silvery drab with a blue velvet snood,

Lace frills,

And the pearl pin.

Jo in maroon with a stiff,

Gentlemanly linen collar and a white chrysanthemum or two for her only ornament.

Each one puts the one nice light glove on and carried one soiled one,

And all pronounced the effect quite easy and fine.

Meg's high heeled slippers were very tight and hurt her,

Though she would not own it.

And Jo's 19 hairpins all seemed stuck straight into her head,

Which was not exactly comfortable.

But dear me,

Let us be elegant or die.

Have a good time,

Dearies,

Said Mrs.

Marsh,

As the sisters went daily down the walk.

Don't eat much supper and come away at 11 when I send Hannah for you.

And as the gate clashed behind them,

A voice cried from the window.

Girls,

Girls,

Have you both got nice pocket handkerchiefs?

Yes,

Very nice,

And Meg's got cologne on hers,

Cried Jo with a laugh.

I do believe mummy would ask that if we were all running away from an earthquake.

It's one of her aristocratic tastes,

Replied Meg.

And quite proper,

For a real lady's always known by neat boots,

Gloves and a handkerchief.

Meg had a good many aristocratic tastes of her own.