PART 1
11. CHAPTER ELEVEN
(continued)
At teatime they compared notes, and all agreed that it had
been a delightful, though unusually long day. Meg, who went shopping
in the afternoon and got a `sweet blue muslin, had discovered,
after she had cut the breadths off, that it wouldn't wash, which
mishap made her slightly cross. Jo had burned the skin off her
nose boating, and got a raging headache by reading too long. Beth
was worried by the confusion of her closet and the difficulty of
learning three or four songs at once, and Amy deeply regretted the
damage done her frock, for Katy Brown's party was to be the next
day and now like Flora McFlimsey, she had `nothing to wear'. But
these were mere trifles, and they assured their mother that the
experiment was working finely. She smiled, said nothing, and with
Hannah's help did their neglected work, keeping home pleasant and
the domestic machinery running smoothly. It was astonishing what
a peculiar and uncomfortable state of things was produced by the
`resting and reveling' process. The days kept getting longer and
longer, the weather was unusually variable and so were tempers, and
unsettled feeling possessed everyone, and Satan found plenty of
mischief for the idle hands to do. As the height of luxury, Meg
put out some of her sewing, and then found time hang so heavily that
she fell to snipping and spoiling her clothes in her attempts to
furbish them up a`la Moffat. Jo read till her eyes gave out and
she was sick of books, got so fidgety that even good-natured Laurie
had a quarrel with her, and so reduced in spirits that she desperately
wished she had gone with Aunt March. Beth got on pretty well,
for she was constantly forgetting that it was to be all play and
no work, and fell back into her old ways now and then. But something
in the air affected her, and more than once her tranquility was much
disturbed, so much so that on one occasion she actually shook poor
dear Joanna and told her she was a fright'. Amy fared worst of all,
for her resources were small, and when her sisters left her to amuse
herself, she soon found that accomplished and important little self
a great burden. She didn't like dolls, fairy tales were childish,
and one couldn't draw all the time. Tea parties didn't amount to
much neither did picnics unless very well conducted. "If one could
have a fine house, full of nice girls, or go traveling, the summer
would be delightful, but to stay at home with three selfish sisters
and a grown-up boy was enough to try the patience of a Boaz,"
complained Miss Malaprop, after several days devoted to pleasure,
fretting, and ennui.
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