PART 2
27. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Fortune suddenly smiled upon Jo, and dropped a good luck
penny in her path. Not a golden penny, exactly, but I doubt
if half a million would have given more real happiness then did
the little sum that came to her in this wise.
Every few weeks she would shut herself up in her room, put
on her scribbling suit, and `fall into a vortex', as she expressed
it, writing away at her novel with all her heart and soul, for till
that was finished she could find no peace. Her `scribbling suit'
consisted of a black woolen pinafore on which she could wipe her
pen at will, and a cap of the same material, adorned with a
cheerful red bow, into which she bundled her hair when the decks were
cleared for action. This cap was a beacon to the inquiring eyes of
her family, who during these periods kept their distance, merely
popping in their heads semi-occasionally to ask, with interest,
"Does genius burn, Jo?" They did not always venture even to ask
this question, but took an observation of the cap, and judged
accordingly. If this expressive article of dress was drawn low
upon the forehead, it was a sign that hard work was going on, in
exciting moments it was pushed rakishly askew, and when despair
seized the author it was plucked wholly off, and cast upon the
floor, and cast upon the floor. At such times the intruder silently
withdrew, and not until the red bow was seen gaily erect upon the
gifted brow, did anyone dare address Jo.
She did not think herself a genius by any means, but when the
writing fit came on, she gave herself up to it with entire abandon,
and led a blissful life, unconscious of want, care, or bad weather,
while she sat safe and happy in an imaginary world, full of friends
almost as real and dear to her as any in the flesh. Sleep forsook
her eyes, meals stood untasted, day and night were all too short to
enjoy the happiness which blessed her only at such times, and made
these hours worth living, even if they bore no other fruit. The
devine afflatus usually lasted a week or two, and then she emerged
from her `vortex', hungry, sleepy, cross, or despondent.
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