PART 2
47. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
(continued)
Of course it was uphill work at first, and Jo made queer
mistakes, but the wise Professor steered her safely into calmer
waters, and the most rampant ragamuffin was conquered in the end.
How Jo did enjoy her `wilderness of boys', and how poor, dear
Aunt March would have lamented had she been there to see the
sacred precincts of prim, well-ordered Plumfield overrun with
Toms, Dicks, and Harrys! There was a sort of poetic justice
about it, after all, for the old lady had been the terror of the boys
for miles around, and now the exiles feasted freely on forbidden
plums, kicked up the gravel with profane boots unreproved,
and played cricket in the big field where the irritable
`cow with a crumpled horn' used to invite rash youths to come and
be tossed. It became a sort of boys' paradise, and Laurie suggested
that it should be called the `Bhaer-garten', as a compliment
to its master and appropriate to its inhabitants.
It never was a fashionable school, and the Professor did not
lay up a fortune, but it was just what Jo intended it to be--
`a happy, homelike place for boys, who needed teaching, care, and
kindness'. Every room in the big house was soon full. Every
little plot in the garden soon had its owner. A regular menagerie
appeared in barn and shed, for pet animals were allowed.
And three times a day, Jo smiled at her Fritz from the head of
a long table lined on either side with rows of happy young faces,
which all turned to her with affectionate eyes, confiding words,
and grateful hearts, full of love for `Mother Bhaer'. She had
boys enough now, and did not tire of them, though they were not
angels, by any means, and some of them caused both Professor and
Professorin much trouble and anxiety. But her faith in the good
spot which exists in the heart of the naughtiest, sauciest, most
tantalizing little ragamuffin gave her patience, skill, and in
time success, for no mortal boy could hold out long with Father
Bhaer shining on him as benevolently as the sun, and Mother Bhaer
forgiving him seventy times seven. Very precious to Jo was the
friendship of the lads, their penitent sniffs and whispers after
wrongdoing, their droll or touching little confidences, their
pleasant enthusiasms, hopes, and plans, even their misfortunes,
for they only endeared them to her all the more. There were slow
boys and bashful boys, feeble boys and riotous boys, boys that
lisped and boys that stuttered, one or two lame ones, and a
merry little quadroon, who could not be taken in elsewhere, but
who was welcome to the `Bhaer-garten', though some people predicted
that his admission would ruin the school.
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