Eight Cousins (Bedtime Story) Chapter 18

Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott, published in 1875, is a coming-of-age novel that centers on the life of Rose Campbell, a delicate and lonely orphan who is taken under the care of her aunts after the death of her father. The novel, set in the post-Civil War era, explores themes of family, health, and gender roles, wrapped in the warmth and humor that characterize Alcott's writing. The story begins with Rose, a 13-year-old girl, arriving at the home of her maiden aunts after her father’s passing. Rose is frail, both physically and emotionally, having led a sheltered and somewhat lonely life. Her aunts are well-meaning but tend to coddle her, which only perpetuates her weakness. The only bright spots in her life are her seven male cousins, who, although boisterous and rough, genuinely care for her.

Transcript

CHAPTER 18 FASHION AND PHYSIOLOGY Please,

Sir,

I guess you'd better step up right away,

Or it will be too late,

For I heard Miss Rose say she knew you wouldn't like it,

And she'd never dare to let you see her.

Phoebe said this as she popped her head into the study where Dr.

Alex sat reading a new book.

They are at it,

Are they?

He said,

Looking up quickly and giving himself a shake,

As if ready for a battle of some sort.

Yes,

Sir,

As hard as they can talk,

And Miss Rose don't seem to know what to do,

Or the things are ever so stylish,

And she looks elegant in them,

Though I like her best in the old ones,

Answered Phoebe.

You are a girl of sense,

I'll set the matters for Rosie,

And you'll lend a hand,

Is everything ready in her room,

And are you sure you understand how they go?

Oh,

Yes,

Sir,

But they are so funny,

I know Miss Rose will think it's a joke,

And Phoebe laughed as if something tickled her immensely.

Never mind what she thinks,

So long as she obeys,

Tell her to do it for my sake,

And she will find it the best joke she ever saw.

I expect to have a tough time of it,

But we'll win yet,

Said the doctor,

As he marched upstairs with the book in his hand,

And an old smile on his face.

There was such a clatter of tongues in the sewing room that no one heard his tap at the door,

So he pushed it open and took an observation,

And Plenty,

And Clara,

And Jessie were all absorbed in gazing at Rose,

Who slowly revolved between them and the great mirror in a full winter costume of the latest fashion.

Bless my heart,

Worse event than I expected,

Thought the doctor,

With an inward groan,

For to his benighted eyes the girl looked like a trust-foul,

And the fine new dress had neither grace,

Beauty,

Or fitness to recommend it.

The suit was of two peculiar shades of blue,

So arranged that patches of light and dark distracted the eye.

The upper skirt was tied so lightly back that it was impossible to take a long step,

And the under one was so loaded with plaited frills,

It wobbled,

No other word will express it ungracefully,

Both fore and aft.

A bunch of folds was gathered up,

Just below the waist behind,

And a great bow rode atop.

A small jacket of the same material was adorned with a high ruff at the back,

And laid well open over the breast,

To display some lace and a locket.

Heavy fringe,

Bows,

Puffs,

Ruffles,

And rivers,

Finished off the dress,

Making one's head ache to think of the amount of work wasted,

For not a single graceful line struck the eye,

And the beauty of the material was quite lost in the profusion of ornament.

A high velvet hat audaciously turned up in front,

With a bunch of pink roses,

And a sweeping bloom was cocked over one ear,

And with her curls braided into a club at the back of her neck.

Roses' head looked more like that of a dashing young cavalier than a modest little girl's.

High-heeled boots tilted her well forward,

A tiny muff pinnied her arms,

And a spotted bule tied so closely over her face that her eyelashes were rumbled by it,

Gave the last touch of absurdity to her appearance.

Now she looks like other girls,

And as I like to see her,

Miss Sklaro was saying with an air of great satisfaction.

She does look a fashionable young lady,

But somehow I miss my rose,

For children are dressed like children in my day.

Good Aunt Plenty peering through her glasses with a troubled look,

For she could not imagine the creature before her ever sitting in her lap,

Running to wait upon her,

Or making the house gay with the child's split presence.

Things have changed since your day,

Aunt,

And it takes time to get used to the new ways,

But you,

Jessie Surly,

Like this costume better than the dowdy things Rose has been wearing all summer.

Now be honest and own you do,

Said Miss Sklaro,

Bent on being praised for her work.

Well,

Dear,

To be quite honest,

Then,

I think it is frightful,

Answered Miss Jessie with a candour that caused revolving Rose to stop in dismay.

Hear,

Hear,

Cried a deep voice with a general start,

The ladies became aware that the enemy was among them.

Rose plushed up to her hatbrim,

And stood looking as she felt,

Like a fool,

While Miss Sklaro hastened to explain.

Of course I don't expect you to like it,

Alec,

But I don't consider you a judge of what is proper and becoming for a young lady,

Therefore I have taken the liberty of providing a pretty street suit for Rose.

She need not wear it if you object,

For I know we promised to let you do what you like with the poor dear for a year.

It is a street costume,

Is it?

Asked Dr.

Mightly.

Do you know,

I never should have guessed,

That it was meant for winter weather and brisk locomotion.

Take a turn,

Rosie,

And let me see all its beauties and advantages.

Rose tried to walk off with her usual free retreat,

But the underskirt got in her way.

The underskirt was so tight she could not take a long step,

And her boots made it impossible to carry herself perfectly erect.

I haven't got used to it yet,

She said petulantly,

Kicking at her train as she turned to toddle back again.

Suppose a mad dog or a runaway horse was after you,

Could you get out of the way without upsetting Cornell?

Asked the doctor,

With a twinkle in the eye that were fixed on the rakish hat.

Don't think I could,

But I'll try,

And Rose made a rush across the room.

Her boot heels caught on a rock,

Several strings broke,

Her hat tipped over her eyes,

And she plunged promiscuously into a chair where she sat laughing so infectiously that all but Mrs.

Clara joined in her mirth.

I should say that a walking suit in which one could not walk and a winter suit which exposes the throat,

Head,

And feet to cold and damp was rather a failure,

Clara,

Especially as it has no beauty to reconcile one to its utter unfitness,

Said Dr.

Alec,

As he helped Rose undo her veil,

Adding in a low tone.

Nice thing for the eyes,

You'll soon see spots when it's off as well as when it's on,

And by and by be a case for an Achilles.

Your beauty,

Cried Miss Clara warmly,

Now that is just a man's blindness,

Is the best of silk and camel's hair,

Real ostrich feathers,

And an expensive ermine muff,

What could be in better taste or more proper for a young girl.

I'll show you if Rose will go to her room and oblige me by putting on what she finds there,

Answered the doctor with unexpected readiness.

Alec,

If it is a bloomer I shall protest,

I've been expecting it but I know I cannot bear to see that pretty child sacrifice to your wild ideas of health.

Tell me it isn't a bloomer,

And Miss Clara clasped her hands imploringly,

It is not.

Thank heaven,

And she resigned herself with a sigh of relief,

Adding plaintively,

I did hope you would accept my suit for poor Rose,

Has been afflicted with frightful clothes long enough to spoil the taste of any girl.

You can talk of my afflicting the child and then make a helpless guy like that of her,

Answered the doctor pointing to the little fashion plate that was cuddling out of sight as fast as it could go.

He closed the door with a shrug,

But before anyone could speak his quick eye fell upon an object which caused him to frown and a mad indignant tone.

After all I have said,

Were you really going to tempt my girl with those abominable things?

I thought we put them away when she wouldn't wear them,

Murmured Miss Clara,

Whisking a little pair of corsets out of sight with guilty haste.

I only brought them to try for Rose's growing stout,

And will have no figure if it is not attended too soon,

She added with an air of calm conviction that roused the doctor still more,

For this was one of his special abominations.

Growing stout?

Yes,

Thank heaven she is,

And shall continue to do it,

For nature knows how to mould a woman better than any corset-maker,

And I won't have her inferred with.

My dear Clara,

Have you lost your senses that you can for a moment dream of putting a growing girl into an instrument of torture like this?

And with a sudden gesture he plucked forth the offending corsets from under the sofa cushion and hauled them out with the expression one would wear on beholding dumb screwers o'er the rack of ancient times.

Don't be absurd,

Alec,

There's no torture about it,

For tight-lacing is out of fashion,

And we have nice,

Sensible things nowadays,

Everyone wears them,

Even babies have stiffened ways to support their weak little backs,

Began Miss Clara,

Rushing to teak the fence of the pet delusion of most women.

I know it,

And so the poor little souls have a weak back all their days,

As their mothers had before them.

It is vain to argue the matter,

And I won't try,

But I wish to state once for all that if I ever see a pair of corsets near Rose,

I will put them in the fire,

And you may send the bill to me.

As he spoke the corsets were on their way to destruction,

But Miss Jessie caught his arm exclaiming merrily,

Don't burn them,

For mercy's sake,

Alec,

They are full of whale-bones,

And will make a dreadful odour,

Give them to me,

I'll see that they do no harm.

There was,

Indeed,

A regular fence of them,

And a metal gate-post in front,

As if our own bones were not enough,

If we'd give them a chance to do their duty,

Growled the doctor,

Yelding up the bone of contention with the last shake of contempt.

Then his face cleared suddenly,

And he holed up his finger,

Saying with a smile,

Hear those girls laugh,

Cramped lungs not make hearty music like that.

A laugh of laughter issued from Rose's room,

And smiles involuntary touched the lips of those who listened to the happy sound.

Some new prank of yours,

Alec,

Asked Aunt Plenty indulgently,

For she had come to believe in most of her nephew's odd notions,

Because they seemed to work so well.

Yes,

Ma'am,

My last,

And I hope you will like it.

I discovered what Clara was at,

And got my rival's suit ready for to-day.

I'm not going to afflict Rose,

But let her choose,

And if I am not entirely mistaken,

She will like my rig best.

While we wait,

I'll explain,

And then you will appreciate the general effect better.

I got hold of this little book,

And was struck with its good sense and good taste,

For it suggests a way to clothe women,

Both healthily and handsomely,

And that is a great point.

It begins at the foundations,

As you will see,

If you will look at these pictures,

And I should think women would rejoice at this lightening of their burdens.

As he spoke,

The doctor laid the book before Aunt Plenty,

Who obediently brought her spectacles to bear upon the illustrations.

And after a long look exclaimed,

With a scandalized face,

Mercy on us!

These things are like the night-drawers Jamie wears.

You don't mean to say you want Rose to come out in this costume?

It is not proper,

And I won't consent to it.

I do mean it,

And I'm sure my sensible aunt will consent,

When she understands that these — well,

I'll call them by an Indian name,

And say pyjamas — are for underwear,

And Rose can have as pretty frocks as she likes outside.

These two suits of flannel,

Each in one piece from head to foot,

With a skirt or sew hang on this easily fitting waist,

Will keep the child warm without burdening her with belts,

And gathers and buckles,

And bunches round the waist,

And leave free the muscles that need plenty of room to work in.

She shall never have the backache,

If I can help it,

Nor the long list of ills you dear woman think you cannot escape.

' ''I don't consider it modest,

'' began Miss Clara,

But stopped suddenly as Rose appeared in the doorway,

Not looking shocked a bit.

''Come on,

My hygienic model,

And let us see you,

'' said her uncle with an approving glance,

As she walked in,

Looking so mischievously merry that it was evident she enjoyed the joke.

''Well,

I don't see anything remarkable,

That is a neat plain suit,

The materials are good,

And it is not unbecoming,

If you want her to look like a little schoolgirl,

But it has not a particular of style,

And no one would ever give it a second glance,

'' said Miss Clara,

Feeling that her last remark condemned the whole thing.

''Exactly what I want,

'' answered the provoking doctor,

Rubbing his hands with the satisfied air.

''Rosie looks now like what she is,

A modest little girl,

Who does not want to be stared at.

I think she would get a glance of approval,

Though,

From people who like sense and simplicity rather than fuss and fetters.

Revolve my heap,

And let me refresh my eyes by the sight of you.

There was very little to see,

However,

Only a pretty Gabrielle dress,

Of a soft warm shade of brown,

Coming to the tops of a trim pair of boots,

With low heels,

A seal-skinned sack,

Cap and mittens with a glimpse of scarlet at the throat,

And the pretty curls tied up with a bright velvet of the same color,

Completed the external adornment,

Making her look like a robin-red-breast wind-tree,

Yet warm.

''How do you like it,

Rosie?

'' asked the doctor,

Feeling that her opinion was more important to the success of this new idea than that of all the ants on the hill.

''I feel very odd and light,

But I am warm as a toast,

And nothing seems to be on my way,

'' answered Rose,

With a skip which displayed shapely gaiters on legs,

That now might be as free and active as a boy's under the most modest skirts of the girl.

''You can run away from the mad dogs,

And walk off at a smart pace,

Without tumbling on your nose now,

I fancy?

'' ''Yes,

Uncle.

I suppose the dog coming.

I just hop over a wall,

So,

And when I walk off a cold day,

I go like this.

'' Entering fully into the spirit of the thing,

Rose swung herself over the high back of the sofa,

As easily as one of her cousins,

And then went down the long hall as if her stud boots were related to the famous seven leaguers.

''There.

You see how it will be.

Dress her in that boyish way,

And she will act like a boy.

I do hate all these inventions of strong-minded women,

'' exclaimed Miss Clara,

As Rose came back at the run.

''Ah,

But you see,

Some of these sensible inventions come from the brain of a fashionable modest who will make you more lovely of what you value more stylish,

Outside and comfortable within.

Miss Van Tassel has been to Madame Stone,

And is wearing a full suit of this sort.

Van himself told me,

When I asked how she was,

That she had given up lying on the sofa,

And was going about in a most astonishing way,

Considering her feeble health.

You don't say so.

Let me see that book for a moment,

'' and Aunt Clara examined the new patterns,

With a more respectful air,

For if the elegant Miss Van Tassel wore those dreadful things,

It would never do to be left behind in spite of her prejustice.

Dr.

Alec looked at Miss Jessie,

And bought smart for little mum,

Had been in the secret and enjoyed it mightily.

''I thought that would settle it,

'' he said with a nod.

''I didn't wait for Miss Van to lead the way,

And for once in my life,

I have adopted the new fashion before Clara.

My freedom suit is ordered,

And you may see me playing tag with Rose and the boys before long,

'' answered Miss Jessie,

Nodding back at him.

Meantime Aunt Blenty was examining Rose's costume,

For the hat and sack were off,

And the girl was eagerly explaining the new undergarments.

''See,

Aunty,

All nice collared flannel,

And a gay little petticoat,

And long stockings are so warm.

Phoebe and I nearly died laughing when I put this rig on,

But I like it ever so much.

The dress is so comfortable,

And doesn't need any belt or sash,

And I can sit without rambling any trimmings.

That is such a comfort.

I like to be tidy,

And so when I wear fuzzes up things.

I'm thinking of my clothes all the time,

And that is tiresome.

You say you like it.

I resolved I would.

Just please uncle,

For he does know more about health than anyone else.

For he does know more about health than anyone else,

I'm sure,

And I'd wear a bag if he asked me to do it.

I don't ask that,

Rose,

But I wish you'd weigh and compare the two suits,

And then choose which seems best.

I leave it to your own common sense,

'' answered Dr.

Alec,

Feeling pretty sure he had won.

Why,

I take this one of course,

Uncle.

The other is fashionable,

And yes,

I must say,

I think it is pretty,

But it is very heavy,

And I should have to go round,

Like a walking doll if I wore it.

I am much obliged to auntie,

But I'll keep this,

Please.

Rose spoke gently,

But decidedly,

Though there was a look of regret when her eye fell on the other suit which Phoebe had brought in,

And it was very natural to look as other girls did.

Aunt Clara sighed.

Uncle Alec smiled and said heartily,

''Thank you,

Dear.

Now read this book,

And you will understand why I ask it of you.

Then if you like,

I'll give you a new lesson.

You asked for one yesterday,

And this is more necessary than French or housekeeping.

'' ''Oh,

What?

'' And Rose caught up the book which Miss Clara had thrown down,

With a disgusted look.

Though Dr.

Alec was forty,

The boyish love of teasing was not yet dead in him,

And being much elated at his victory,

He could not resist the temptations of shocking Miss Clara by suggesting dreadful possibilities.

So he answered half in earnest,

Half in jest,

''Physiology,

Rose.

Wouldn't you like to be a little medical student,

With uncle doctor for teacher,

And be ready to take up his practice when he has to stop?

If you agree,

I'll hunt up my old skeleton tomorrow.

'' This was too much for Aunt Clara,

And she hastily departed,

With her mind in a sad state of perpetration about Miss Van Tassel's new costume and Rose's new study.

Reviews

New lessons constantly! That first outfit sounded torturous🤭 thank you🙏🏼❤️