| 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. |