rhasspy/piper-checkpoints huggingface dataset:
saudi backed newcastle takeover as much about status as sportswashing
he will make a fine man, if not spoiled by petting,' replied her mother.
he carries it everywhere, it's like a security blanket, but with ski boots and a kicky beret.
'and he isn't conceited, is he?'
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'not in the least.
i heard misess king crying and mister king talking very loud, and grace and ellen turned away their faces when they passed me, so i shouldn't see how red and swollen their eyes were.
if you have a word like 'good', what need is there for a word like 'bad'? 'ungood' will do just as well better, because it's an exact opposite, which the other is not.
no dinosaurs, no ghosts, no giant dogs, okay?
what does the irish tax deal mean for multinationals?
that is why he is so charming and we all like him so much.'
'merry christmas, little daughters!
smith, old boy, i'll tell you why i'm chasing you.
i'm glad you began at once, and hope you will keep on.
i didn't ask any questions, of course, but i felt so sorry for them and was rather glad i hadn't any wild brothers to do wicked things and disgrace the family.'
but i want to say one word before we sit down.
it's nice to have accomplishments and be elegant, but not to show off or get perked up,' said amy thoughtfully.
not far away from here lies a poor woman with a little newborn baby.
so tricky a piece of work would never be entrusted to a single person, on the other hand, to turn it over to a committee would be to admit openly that an act of fabrication was taking place.
not take her to the hospital?
'i think being disgraced in school is a great deal try_inger_ than anything bad boys can do,' said amy, shaking her head, as if her experience of life had been a deep one.
six children are huddled into one bed to keep from freezing, for they have no fire.
it's really gotta be the smart thing.
'these things are always seen and felt in a person's manner and conversations, if modestly used, but it is not necessary to display them,' said misess march.
even the written instructions which winston received, and which he invariably got rid of as soon as he had dealt with them, never stated or implied that an act of forgery was to be committed, always the reference was to slips, errors, misprints, or misquotations which it was necessary to put right in the interests of accuracy.
'susie perkins came to school today with a lovely red carnelian ring.
now, you'll feel a small puff of air in each eye.
it gave off a sickly, oily smell, as of chinese ricespirit.
it's amazing how she gets it right almost every time!
there is nothing to eat over there, and the oldest boy came to tell me they were suffering hunger and cold.
'any more than it's proper to wear all your bonnets and gowns and ribbons at once, that folks may know you've got them,' added jo, and the lecture ended in a laugh.
i wanted it dreadfully, and wished i was her with all my might.
y'know, we don't have to imagine.
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jo meets apollyon
my girls, will you give them your breakfast as a christmas present?'
but, uh, i made her dinner.
at the table on his left the man with the strident voice was still talking remorselessly away.
'girls, where are you going?'
i guess i just figured that somewhere down the road, we would be on again.
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thanks so much for showing me around.
asked amy, coming into their room one saturday afternoon, and finding them getting ready to go out with an air of secrecy which excited her curiosity.
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well, she drew a picture of mister davis, with a monstrous nose and a hump, and the words, 'young ladies, my eye is upon you!'
they were all unusually hungry, having waited nearly an hour, and for a minute no one spoke, only a minute, for jo exclaimed impetuously, 'i'm so glad you came before we began!'
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little girls shouldn't ask questions,' returned jo sharply.
'may i go and help carry the things to the poor little children?'
coming out of his mouth in a balloon thing.
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asked beth eagerly.
yeah, i feel kinda bad for them, but i'm also really psyched 'cause i don't have to move in here!
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we were laughing over it when all of a sudden his eye _was_ on us, and he ordered susie to bring up her slate.
now if there is anything mortifying to our feelings when we are young, it is to be told that, and to be bidden to 'run away, dear' is still more trying to us.
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she was _parry_lized with fright, but she went, and oh, what _do_ you think he did?
amy bridled up at this insult, and determined to find out the secret, if she teased for an hour.
very likely as many as a dozen people were now working away on rival versions of what big brother had actually said.
he took her by the ear the ear!
i don't know... sometimes it doesn't.
or again, if you want a stronger version of 'good', what sense is there in having a whole string of vague useless words like 'excellent' and 'splendid' and all the rest of them? 'plusgood' covers the meaning, or 'doubleplusgood' if you want something stronger still.
turning to meg, who never refused her anything very long, she said coaxingly, 'do tell me!
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it's that sub you forgot to give me.
now, let me explain how this works.
just fancy how horrid! and led her to the recitation platform, and made her stand there half an hour, holding the slate so everyone could see.'
we gotta find a cab and follow them.
'didn't the girls laugh at the picture?'
asked jo, who relished the scrape.
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i mean... i mean i'm not in love with her.
'i shall take the cream and the muffings,' added amy, heroically giving up the article she most liked.
that actually, uh, that sounds interesting.
i should think you might let me go, too, for beth is fussing over her piano, and i haven't got anything to do, and am so lonely.'
meg was already covering the buckwheats, and piling the bread into one big plate.
they sat still as mice, and susie cried quarts, i know she did.
you have no idea who i am, do you.
but actually, he thought as he re adjusted the ministry of plenty's figures, it was not even forgery.
'i thought you'd do it,' said misess march, smiling as if satisfied.
how are you gonna run after him with one leg shorter than the other?!
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'i can't, dear, because you aren't invited,' began meg, but jo broke in impatiently, 'now, meg, be quiet or you will spoil it all.
i didn't envy her then, for i felt that millions of carnelian rings wouldn't have made me happy after that.
i say we throw a surprise party this weekend.
'you shall all go and help me, and when we come back we will have bread and milk for breakfast, and make it up at dinnertime.'
you can't go, amy, so don't be a baby and whine about it.'
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they were soon ready, and the procession set out.
'you are going somewhere with laurie, i know you are.
that's the only way to explain the underwear and the video camera that doesn't make me look like a pig!
a young woman who was perhaps his secretary, and who was sitting with her back to winston, was listening to him and seemed to be eagerly agreeing with everything that he said.
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and ah one that barely qualifies as... ahh, what?
fortunately it was early, and they went through back streets, so few people saw them, and no one laughed at the queer party.
you were whispering and laughing together on the sofa last night, and you stopped when i came in.
aren't you going with him?'
i never, never should have got over such a agonizing mortification.'
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how the big eyes stared and the blue lips smiled as the girls went in.
now do be still, and stop bothering.'
'ach, mein gott!
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and presently some master brain in the inner party would select this version or that, would re edit it and set in motion the complex processes of cross referencing that would be required, and then the chosen lie would pass into the permanent records and become truth.
it is good angels come to us!'
amy held her tongue, but used her eyes, and saw meg slip a fan into her pocket.
alright, look, i'm not gonna do this.
said the poor woman, crying for joy.
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and amy went on with her work, in the proud consciousness of virtue and the successful utterance of two long words in a breath.
of course we use those forms already.
look, you got stood up, who cares?
'just listen to me a minute, and be a good child,' said meg soothingly.
let me just check on the baby!
and i know you've done it at least twice!
coldplay review – lasers, confetti and ed sheeran in extravagant return
'funny angels in hoods and mittens,' said jo, and set them to laughing.
having a perfectly decorated tree is not what christmas is about.
'mother doesn't wish you to go this week, because your eyes are not well enough yet to bear the light of this fairy piece.
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'which sub is that?' said winston, automatically feeling for money.
ross, you're right, you're right, it is.
'i saw something i liked this morning, and i meant to tell it at dinner, but i forgot,' said beth, putting jo's topsy turvy basket in order as she talked.
all right, it seems pretty simple.
next week you can go with beth and hannah, and have a nice time.'
in a few minutes it really did seem as if kind spirits had been at work there.
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'i don't like that half as well as going with you and laurie.
come on, she'll be here any minute.
hannah, who had carried wood, made a fire, and stopped up the broken panes with old hats and her own cloak.
is there room in the metaverse for indie fashion labels? australian designers hope so
i've been sick with this cold so long, and shut up, i'm dying for some fun.
'when i went to get some oysters for hannah, mister laurence was in the fish shop, but he didn't see me, for i kept behind the fish barrel, and he was busy with mister cutter the fish man.
i will have you know that we are very hip, happening people.
i'll be ever so good,' pleaded amy, looking as pathetic as she could.
it was merely the substitution of one piece of nonsense for another.
yeah, well... i think i know how to dazzle him.
'suppose we take her.
she was so glad and surprised she took it right into her arms, and thanked him over and over.
what will happen to anger if it’s left to fester? it will blow up
winston did not know why withers had been disgraced.
misess march gave the mother tea and gruel, and comforted her with promises of help, while she dressed the little baby as tenderly as if it had been her own.
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i don't believe mother would mind, if we bundle her up well,' began meg.
he told her to 'go along and cook it', and she hurried off, so happy!
he went back to the living room and sat down at a small table that stood to the left of the telescreen.
wasn't it good of him?
i think i know who you're talking about.
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the girls meantime spread the table, set the children round the fire, and fed them like so many hungry birds, laughing, talking, and trying to understand the funny broken english.
that noise can only me one thing.
'if she goes i shan't, and if i don't, laurie won't like it, and it will be very rude, after he invited only us, to go and drag in amy.
'die engel kinder!'
oh, she did look so funny, hugging the big, slippery fish, and hoping mister laurence's bed in heaven would be 'aisy'.'
you know, and if you get in the.... um...
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cried the poor things as they ate and warmed their purple hands at the comfortable blaze.
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please, it's because otherwise i really don't know what i might do.
i should think she'd hate to poke herself where she isn't wanted,' said jo crossly, for she disliked the trouble of overseeing a fidgety child when she wanted to enjoy herself.
it was not a wise thing to do, but i kept on worrying till an old man came in with an order for some clothes.
well, what about his family?
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‘correct english’ is a guise for class snobbery
her tone and manner angered amy, who began to put her boots on, saying, in her most aggravating way, 'i shall go.
the girls had never been called angel children before, and thought it very agreeable, especially jo, who had been considered a 'sancho' ever since she was born.
he sat down near me, and i began to talk to him, for he looked poor and tired and anxious.
whoa, that doesn't necessarily mean that he's breaking up with you.
that was a very happy breakfast, though they didn't get any of it.
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meg says i may, and if i pay for myself, laurie hasn't anything to do with it.'
i was just being polite, but, alright.
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from time to time winston caught some such remark as 'i think you're so right, i do so agree with you', uttered in a youthful and rather silly feminine voice.
in my spare time i uh, read to the blind.
'that's loving our neighbor better than ourselves, and i like it,' said meg, as they set out their presents while their mother was upstairs collecting clothes for the poor hummels.
about a quarter of one's salary had to be earmarked for voluntary subscriptions, which were so numerous that it was difficult to keep track of them.
''have you sons in the army?'
most of the material that you were dealing with had no connexion with anything in the real world, not even the kind of connexion that is contained in a direct lie.
actually he was not used to writing by hand.
but in the final version of newspeak there'll be nothing else.
i'm, i'm breaking up with you.
i asked, for the note he brought was not to me.'
strike up, beth!
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open the door, amy!
three cheers for marmee!'
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'you can't sit with us, for our seats are reserved, and you mustn't sit alone, so laurie will give you his place, and that will spoil our pleasure.
i had four, but two were killed, one is a prisoner, and i'm going to the other, who is very sick in a washington hospital.'
cried jo, prancing about while meg went to conduct mother to the seat of honor.
or he'll get another seat for you, and that isn't proper when you weren't asked.
he answered quietly.'
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beth played her gayest march, amy threw open the door, and meg enacted escort with great dignity.
texas activists and democrats vow to keep fighting after abortion ban blocked
''you have done a great deal for your country, sir,' i said, feeling respect now, instead of pity.'
you shan't stir a step, so you may just stay where you are,' scolded jo, crosser than ever, having just pricked her finger in her hurry.
''not a mite more than i ought, ma'am.
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i'd go myself, if i was any use.
misess march was both surprised and touched, and smiled with her eyes full as she examined her presents and read the little notes which accompanied them.
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as i ain't, i give my boys, and give 'em free.''
sitting on the floor with one boot on, amy began to cry and meg to reason with her, when laurie called from below, and the two girls hurried down, leaving their sister wailing.
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'he spoke so cheerfully, looked so sincere, and seemed so glad to give his all, that i was ashamed of myself.
the slippers went on at once, a new handkerchief was slipped into her pocket, well scented with amy's cologne, the rose was fastened in her bosom, and the nice gloves were pronounced a perfect fit.
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for now and then she forgot her grown up ways and acted like a spoiled child.
i'd given one man and thought it too much, while he gave four without grudging them.
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the morning charities and ceremonies took so much time that the rest of the day was devoted to preparations for the evening festivities.
but the other voice never stopped for an instant, even when the girl was speaking.
the big chamber was the scene of many innocent revels.
just as the party was setting out, amy called over the banisters in a threatening tone, 'you'll be sorry for this, jo march, see if you ain't.'
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'fiddlesticks!'
returned jo, slamming the door.
i had all my girls to comfort me at home, and his last son was waiting, miles away, to say good by to him, perhaps!
statistics were just as much a fantasy in their original version as in their rectified version.
they had a charming time, for _the seven castles of the diamond lake_ was as brilliant and wonderful as heart could wish.
no gentleman were admitted, so jo played male parts to her heart's content and took immense satisfaction in a pair of russet leather boots given her by a friend, who knew a lady who knew an actor.
candi staton, ‘when the promoters tried not to pay i had to get my gun out’
tell us, what are your plans for halloween?
i felt so rich, so happy thinking of my blessings, that i made him a nice bundle, gave him some money, and thanked him heartily for the lesson he had taught me.'
in the end the whole notion of goodness and badness will be covered by only six words in reality, only one word.
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but in spite of the comical red imps, sparkling elves, and the gorgeous princes and princesses, jo's pleasure had a drop of bitterness in it.
'for hate week.
'tell another story, mother, one with a moral to it, like this.
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these boots, an old foil, and a slashed doublet once used by an artist for some picture, were jo's chief treasures and appeared on all occasions.
i like to think about them afterward, if they are real and not too preachy,' said jo, after a minute's silence.
the fairy queen's yellow curls reminded her of amy, and between the acts she amused herself with wondering what her sister would do to make her 'sorry for it'.
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misess march smiled and began at once, for she had told stories to this little audience for many years, and knew how to please them.
it was excellent drill for their memories, a harmless amusement, and employed many hours which otherwise would have been idle, lonely, or spent in less profitable society.
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she and amy had had many lively skirmishes in the course of their lives, for both had quick tempers and were apt to be violent when fairly roused.
here the listeners stole sly looks at one another, and began to sew diligently.
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amy teased jo, and jo irritated amy, and semioccasional explosions occurred, of which both were much ashamed afterward.
a great deal of the time you were expected to make them up out of your head.
on christmas night, a dozen girls piled onto the bed which was the dress circle, and sat before the blue and yellow chintz curtains in a most flattering state of expectancy.
so they asked an old woman what spell they could use to make them happy, and she said, 'when you feel discontented, think over your blessings, and be grateful.''
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although the oldest, jo had the least self control, and had hard times trying to curb the fiery spirit which was continually getting her into trouble.
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here jo looked up quickly, as if about to speak, but changed her mind, seeing that the story was not done yet.
there was a good deal of rustling and whispering behind the curtain, a trifle of lamp smoke, and an occasional giggle from amy, who was apt to get hysterical in the excitement of the moment.
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her anger never lasted long, and having humbly confessed her fault, she sincerely repented and tried to do better.
'being sensible girls, they decided to try her advice, and soon were surprised to see how well off they were.
presently a bell sounded, the curtains flew apart, and the _operatic tragedy_ began.
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'now, marmee, that is very cunning of you to turn our own stories against us, and give us a sermon instead of a romance!'
her sisters used to say that they rather liked to get jo into a fury because she was such an angel afterward.
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'a gloomy wood,' according to the one playbill, was represented by a few shrubs in pots, green baize on the floor, and a cave in the distance.
winston knew the man by sight, though he knew no more about him than that he held some important post in the fiction department.
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'i like that kind of sermon.
poor jo tried desperately to be good, but her bosom enemy was always ready to flame up and defeat her, and it took years of patient effort to subdue it.
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this cave was made with a clothes horse for a roof, bureaus for walls, and in it was a small furnace in full blast, with a black pot on it and an old witch bending over it.
when they got home, they found amy reading in the parlor.
it's the sort father used to tell us,' said beth thoughtfully, putting the needles straight on jo's cushion.
for example, the ministry of plenty's forecast had estimated the output of boots for the quarter at one hundred and forty five million pairs.
the stage was dark and the glow of the furnace had a fine effect, especially as real steam issued from the kettle when the witch took off the cover.
she assumed an injured air as they came in, never lifted her eyes from her book, or asked a single question.
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perhaps curiosity might have conquered resentment, if beth had not been there to inquire and receive a glowing description of the play.
a moment was allowed for the first thrill to subside, then hugo, the villain, stalked in with a clanking sword at his side, a slouching hat, black beard, mysterious cloak, and the boots.
'i don't complain near as much as the others do, and i shall be more careful than ever now, for i've had warning from susie's downfall,' said amy morally.
you know the house by house fund.
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'we needed that lesson, and we won't forget it.
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the gruff tones of hugo's voice, with an occasional shout when his feelings overcame him, were very impressive, and the audience applauded the moment he paused for breath.
if we do so, you just say to us, as old chloe did in _uncle tom_, 'tink ob yer marcies, chillen!'
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on going up to put away her best hat, jo's first look was toward the bureau, for in their last quarrel amy had soothed her feelings by turning jo's top drawer upside down on the floor.
'tink ob yer marcies!''
don't you see the beauty of that, winston? it was b.
bowing with the air of one accustomed to public praise, he stole to the cavern and ordered hagar to come forth with a commanding, 'what ho, minion!
added jo, who could not, for the life of her, help getting a morsel of fun out of the little sermon, though she took it to heart as much as any of them.
being neighborly
everything was in its place, however, and after a hasty glance into her various closets, bags, and boxes, jo decided that amy had forgiven and forgotten her wrongs.
out came meg, with gray horsehair hanging about her face, a red and black robe, a staff, and cabalistic signs upon her cloak.
'what in the world are you going to do now, jo?'
there jo was mistaken, for next day she made a discovery which produced a tempest.
hugo demanded a potion to make zara adore him, and one to destroy roderigo.
meg, beth, and amy were sitting together, late in the afternoon, when jo burst into the room, looking excited and demanding breathlessly, 'has anyone taken my book?'
asked meg one snowy afternoon, as her sister came tramping through the hall, in rubber boots, old sack, and hood, with a broom in one hand and a shovel in the other.
meg and beth said, 'no.'
hagar, in a fine dramatic melody, promised both, and proceeded to call up the spirit who would bring the love philter.
at once, and looked surprised.
he was a man of about thirty, with a muscular throat and a large, mobile mouth.
hither, hither, from thy home, airy sprite, i bid thee come!
amy poked the fire and said nothing.
even with nothing written in it, it was a compromising possession.
born of roses, fed on dew, charms and potions canst thou brew?
jo saw her color rise and was down upon her in a minute.
'amy, you've got it!'
bring me here, with elfin speed, the fragrant philter which i need.
'no, i haven't.'
'going out for exercise,' answered jo with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
i'm treasurer for our block.
make it sweet and swift and strong, spirit, answer now my song!
'i should think two long walks this morning would have been enough!
'you know where it is, then!'
'that's a fib!'
it's cold and dull out, and i advise you to stay warm and dry by the fire, as i do,' said meg with a shiver.
cried jo, taking her by the shoulders, and looking fierce enough to frighten a much braver child than amy.
'never take advice!
i haven't got it, don't know where it is now, and don't care.'
a soft strain of music sounded, and then at the back of the cave appeared a little figure in cloudy white, with glittering wings, golden hair, and a garland of roses on its head.
can't keep still all day, and not being a pussycat, i don't like to doze by the fire.
waving a wand, it sang...
'you know something about it, and you'd better tell at once, or i'll make you.'
i like adventures, and i'm going to find some.'
and jo gave her a slight shake.
hither i come, from my airy home, afar in the silver moon.
meg went back to toast her feet and read _ivanhoe_, and jo began to dig paths with great energy.
take the magic spell, and use it well, or its power will vanish soon!
'scold as much as you like, you'll never see your silly old book again,' cried amy, getting excited in her turn.
'i burned it up.'
and dropping a small, gilded bottle at the witch's feet, the spirit vanished.
the snow was light, and with her broom she soon swept a path all round the garden, for beth to walk in when the sun came out and the invalid dolls needed air.
my little book i was so fond of, and worked over, and meant to finish before father got home?
now, the garden separated the marches' house from that of mister laurence.
have you really burned it?'
then the curtain fell, and the audience reposed and ate candy while discussing the merits of the play.
we're making an all out effort going to put on a tremendous show.
both stood in a suburb of the city, which was still country like, with groves and lawns, large gardens, and quiet streets.
said jo, turning very pale, while her eyes kindled and her hands clutched amy nervously.
a good deal of hammering went on before the curtain rose again, but when it became evident what a masterpiece of stage carpentery had been got up, no one murmured at the delay.
i told you i'd make you pay for being so cross yesterday, and i have, so...'
it was truly superb.
his head was thrown back a little, and because of the angle at which he was sitting, his spectacles caught the light and presented to winston two blank discs instead of eyes.
a low hedge parted the two estates.
amy got no farther, for jo's hot temper mastered her, and she shook amy till her teeth chattered in her head, crying in a passion of grief and anger...
'you wicked, wicked girl!
on one side was an old, brown house, looking rather bare and shabby, robbed of the vines that in summer covered its walls and the flowers, which then surrounded it.
i never can write it again, and i'll never forgive you as long as i live.'
a tower rose to the ceiling, halfway up appeared a window with a lamp burning in it, and behind the white curtain appeared zara in a lovely blue and silver dress, waiting for roderigo.
to jo's lively fancy, this fine house seemed a kind of enchanted palace, full of splendors and delights which no one enjoyed.
the storm cleared up below, for misess march came home, and, having heard the story, soon brought amy to a sense of the wrong she had done her sister.
he came in gorgeous array, with plumed cap, red cloak, chestnut lovelocks, a guitar, and the boots, of course.
she had long wanted to behold these hidden glories, and to know the laurence boy, who looked as if he would like to be known, if he only knew how to begin.
kneeling at the foot of the tower, he sang a serenade in melting tones.
'that boy is suffering for society and fun,' she said to herself.
jo's book was the pride of her heart, and was regarded by her family as a literary sprout of great promise.
zara replied and, after a musical dialogue, consented to fly.
'his grandpa does not know what's good for him, and keeps him shut up all alone.
's idea originally, of course,' he added as an afterthought.
he needs a party of jolly boys to play with, or somebody young and lively.
it was only half a dozen little fairy tales, but jo had worked over them patiently, putting her whole heart into her work, hoping to make something good enough to print.
i've a great mind to go over and tell the old gentleman so!'
he had seen it lying in the window of a frowsy little junk shop in a slummy quarter of the town just what quarter he did not now remember and had been stricken immediately by an overwhelming desire to possess it.
she had just copied them with great care, and had destroyed the old manuscript, so that amy's bonfire had consumed the loving work of several years.
then came the grand effect of the play.
the idea amused jo, who liked to do daring things and was always scandalizing meg by her queer performances.
the plan of 'going over' was not forgotten.
it seemed a small loss to others, but to jo it was a dreadful calamity, and she felt that it never could be made up to her.
roderigo produced a rope ladder, with five steps to it, threw up one end, and invited zara to descend.
what was slightly horrible, was that from the stream of sound that poured out of his mouth it was almost impossible to distinguish a single word.
i tell you, it won't be my fault if old victory mansions doesn't have the biggest outfit of flags in the whole street.
timidly she crept from her lattice, put her hand on roderigo's shoulder, and was about to leap gracefully down when 'alas!
beth mourned as for a departed kitten, and meg refused to defend her pet.
and when the snowy afternoon came, jo resolved to try what could be done.
she saw mister lawrence drive off, and then sallied out to dig her way down to the hedge, where she paused and took a survey.
misess march looked grave and grieved, and amy felt that no one would love her till she had asked pardon for the act which she now regretted more than any of them.
when the tea bell rang, jo appeared, looking so grim and unapproachable that it took all amy's courage to say meekly...
all quiet, curtains down at the lower windows, servants out of sight, and nothing human visible but a curly black head leaning on a thin hand at the upper window.
'please forgive me, jo.
i'm very, very sorry.'
'there he is,' thought jo, 'poor boy!
all alone and sick this dismal day.
'i never shall forgive you,' was jo's stern answer, and from that moment she ignored amy entirely.
i'll toss up a snowball and make him look out, and then say a kind word to him.'
it was not a happy evening, for though they sewed as usual, while their mother read aloud from bremer, scott, or edgeworth, something was wanting, and the sweet home peace was disturbed.
up went a handful of soft snow, and the head turned at once, showing a face which lost its listless look in a minute, as the big eyes brightened and the mouth began to smile.
they felt this most when singing time came, for beth could only play, jo stood dumb as a stone, and amy broke down, so meg and mother sang alone.
jo nodded and laughed, and flourished her broom as she called out...
'how do you do?
laurie opened the window, and croaked out as hoarsely as a raven...
but in spite of their efforts to be as cheery as larks, the flutelike voices did not seem to chord as well as usual, and all felt out of tune.
as jo received her good night kiss, misess march whispered gently, 'my dear, don't let the sun go down upon your anger.
two dollars you promised me.
just once winston caught a phrase 'complete and final elimination of goldsteinism' jerked out very rapidly and, as it seemed, all in one piece, like a line of type cast solid.
'better, thank you.
forgive each other, help each other, and begin again tomorrow.'
i've had a bad cold, and been shut up a week.'
what do you amuse yourself with?'
it's dull as tombs up here.'
'don't you read?'
they won't let me.'
so she winked hard, shook her head, and said gruffly because amy was listening, 'it was an abominable thing, and she doesn't deserve to be forgiven.'
'can't somebody read to you?'
with that she marched off to bed, and there was no merry or confidential gossip that night.
'grandpa does sometimes, but my books don't interest him, and i hate to ask brooke all the time.'
'have someone come and see you then.'
jo still looked like a thunder cloud, and nothing went well all day.
'there isn't anyone i'd like to see.
'everybody is so hateful, i'll ask laurie to go skating.
for the rest it was just a noise, a quack quack quacking.
boys make such a row, and my head is weak.'
he is always kind and jolly, and will put me to rights, i know,' said jo to herself, and off she went.
'isn't there some nice girl who'd read and amuse you?
amy heard the clash of skates, and looked out with an impatient exclamation.
girls are quiet and like to play nurse.'
'don't know any.'
she promised i should go next time, for this is the last ice we shall have.
'you know us,' began jo, then laughed and stopped.
but it's no use to ask such a crosspatch to take me.'
will you come, please?'
'don't say that.
'i'm not quiet and nice, but i'll come, if mother will let me.
i'll go ask her.
winston found and handed over two creased and filthy notes, which parsons entered in a small notebook, in the neat handwriting of the illiterate.
shut the window, like a good boy, and wait till i come.'
with that, jo shouldered her broom and marched into the house, wondering what they would all say to her.
you were very naughty, and it is hard to forgive the loss of her precious little book, but i think she might do it now, and i guess she will, if you try her at the right minute,' said meg.
'go after them.
and yet, though you could not actually hear what the man was saying, you could not be in any doubt about its general nature.
presently there came a loud ring, than a decided voice, asking for 'mister
don't say anything till jo has got good natured with laurie, than take a quiet minute and just kiss her, or do some kind thing, and i'm sure she'll be friends again with all her heart.'
laurie', and a surprised looking servant came running up to announce a young lady.
'i'll try,' said amy, for the advice suited her, and after a flurry to get ready, she ran after the friends, who were just disappearing over the hill.
'here i am, bag and baggage,' she said briskly.
it was not far to the river, but both were ready before amy reached them.
'mother sent her love, and was glad if i could do anything for you.
jo saw her coming, and turned her back.
meg wanted me to bring some of her blanc mange, she makes it very nicely, and beth thought her cats would be comforting.
laurie did not see, for he was carefully skating along the shore, sounding the ice, for a warm spell had preceded the cold snap.
i knew you'd laugh at them, but i couldn't refuse, she was so anxious to do something.'
it so happened that beth's funny loan was just the thing, for in laughing over the kits, laurie forgot his bashfulness, and grew sociable at once.
'i'll go on to the first bend, and see if it's all right before we begin to race,' amy heard him say, as he shot away, looking like a young russian in his fur trimmed coat and cap.
'it isn't anything, only they all felt kindly and wanted to show it.
tell the girl to put it away for your tea.
she had cherished her anger till it grew strong and took possession of her, as evil thoughts and feelings always do unless cast out at once.
as laurie turned the bend, he shouted back...
'by the way, old boy,' he said.
it's so simple you can eat it, and being soft, it will slip down without hurting your sore throat.
'keep near the shore.
it isn't safe in the middle.'
jo heard, but amy was struggling to her feet and did not catch a word.
he might be denouncing goldstein and demanding sterner measures against thought criminals and saboteurs, he might be fulminating against the atrocities of the eurasian army, he might be praising big brother or the heroes on the malabar front it made no difference.
jo glanced over her shoulder, and the little demon she was harboring said in her ear...
what a cozy room this is!'
'no matter whether she heard or not, let her take care of herself.'
'it might be if it was kept nice, but the maids are lazy, and i don't know how to make them mind.
it worries me though.'
now then, you're fixed.'
laurie had vanished round the bend, jo was just at the turn, and amy, far behind, striking out toward the smoother ice in the middle of the river.
she tried to call laurie, but her voice was gone.
and so he was, for, as she laughed and talked, jo had whisked things into place and given quite a different air to the room.
something rushed swiftly by her, and laurie's voice cried out...
'now then, we must walk her home as fast as we can.
laurie watched her in respectful silence, and when she beckoned him to his sofa, he sat down with a sigh of satisfaction, saying gratefully...
'how kind you are!
yes, that's what it wanted.
pile our things on her, while i get off these confounded skates,' cried laurie, wrapping his coat round amy, and tugging away at the straps which never seemed so intricate before.
now please take the big chair and let me do something to amuse my company.'
'i hear that little beggar of mine let fly at you with his catapult yesterday.
'no, i came to amuse you.
shivering, dripping, and crying, they got amy home, and after an exciting time of it, she fell asleep, rolled in blankets before a hot fire.
whatever it was, you could be certain that every word of it was pure orthodoxy, pure ingsoc.
shall i read aloud?'
and jo looked affectionately toward some inviting books near by.
i've read all those, and if you don't mind, i'd rather talk,' answered laurie.
during the bustle jo had scarcely spoken but flown about, looking pale and wild, with her things half off, her dress torn, and her hands cut and bruised by ice and rails and refractory buckles.
i'll talk all day if you'll only set me going.
beth says i never know when to stop.'
when amy was comfortably asleep, the house quiet, and misess march sitting by the bed, she called jo to her and began to bind up the hurt hands.
'is beth the rosy one, who stays at home good deal and sometimes goes out with a little basket?'
'are you sure she is safe?'
asked laurie with interest.
'yes, that's beth.
she's my girl, and a regular good one she is, too.'
whispered jo, looking remorsefully at the golden head, which might have been swept away from her sight forever under the treacherous ice.
'quite safe, dear.
'the pretty one is meg, and the curly haired one is amy, i believe?'
as he watched the eyeless face with the jaw moving rapidly up and down, winston had a curious feeling that this was not a real human being but some kind of dummy.
she is not hurt, and won't even take cold, i think, you were so sensible in covering and getting her home quickly,' replied her mother cheerfully.
'laurie did it all.
i only let her go.
mother, if she should die, it would be my fault.'
i beg your pardon for being so rude, but sometimes you forget to put down the curtain at the window where the flowers are.
i gave him a good dressing down for it.
and when the lamps are lighted, it's like looking at a picture to see the fire, and you all around the table with your mother.
apart from very short notes, it was usual to dictate everything into the speakwrite which was of course impossible for his present purpose.
'it's my dreadful temper!
her face is right opposite, and it looks so sweet behind the flowers, i can't help watching it.
i try to cure it, i think i have, and then it breaks out worse than ever.
i haven't got any mother, you know.'
oh, mother, what shall i do?
what shall i do?'
cried poor jo, in despair.
and laurie poked the fire to hide a little twitching of the lips that he could not control.
'you don't know, you can't guess how bad it is!
the solitary, hungry look in his eyes went straight to jo's warm heart.
it seems as if i could do anything when i'm in a passion.
i get so savage, i could hurt anyone and enjoy it.
i'm afraid i shall do something dreadful some day, and spoil my life, and make everybody hate me.
she had been so simply taught that there was no nonsense in her head, and at fifteen she was as innocent and frank as any child.
oh, mother, help me, do help me!'
in fact i told him i'd take the catapult away if he does it again.
'i will, my child, i will.
laurie was sick and lonely, and feeling how rich she was in home and happiness, she gladly tried to share it with him.
her face was very friendly and her sharp voice unusually gentle as she said...
don't cry so bitterly, but remember this day, and resolve with all your soul that you will never know another like it.
it was not the man's brain that was speaking, it was his larynx.
jo, dear, we all have our temptations, some far greater than yours, and it often takes us all our lives to conquer them.
'we'll never draw that curtain any more, and i give you leave to look as much as you like.
you think your temper is the worst in the world, but mine used to be just like it.'
'yours, mother?
i just wish, though, instead of peeping, you'd come over and see us.
why, you are never angry!'
and for the moment jo forgot remorse in surprise.
mother is so splendid, she'd do you heaps of good, and beth would sing to you if i begged her to, and amy would dance.
'i've been trying to cure it for forty years, and have only succeeded in controlling it.
meg and i would make you laugh over our funny stage properties, and we'd have jolly times.
wouldn't your grandpa let you?'
'i think he would, if your mother asked him.
i am angry nearly every day of my life, jo, but i have learned not to show it, and i still hope to learn not to feel it, though it may take me another forty years to do so.'
the patience and the humility of the face she loved so well was a better lesson to jo than the wisest lecture, the sharpest reproof.
'i think he was a little upset at not going to the execution,' said winston.
she felt comforted at once by the sympathy and confidence given her.
'mother, are you angry when you fold your lips tight together and go out of the room sometimes, when aunt march scolds or people worry you?'
asked jo, feeling nearer and dearer to her mother than ever before.
'how did you learn to keep still?
that is what troubles me, for the sharp words fly out before i know what i'm about, and the more i say the worse i get, till it's a pleasure to hurt people's feelings and say dreadful things.
tell me how you do it, marmee dear.'
'my good mother used to help me...'
'as you do us...' interrupted jo, with a grateful kiss.
'but i lost her when i was a little older than you are, and for years had to struggle on alone, for i was too proud to confess my weakness to anyone else.
i had a hard time, jo, and shed a good many bitter tears over my failures, for in spite of my efforts i never seemed to get on.
' ah, well what i mean to say, shows the right spirit, doesn't it? mischievous little beggars they are, both of them, but talk about keenness! all they think about is the spies, and the war, of course.
then your father came, and i was so happy that i found it easy to be good.
what helped you then?'
'your father, jo.
he never loses patience, never doubts or complains, but always hopes, and works and waits so cheerfully that one is ashamed to do otherwise before him.
he helped and comforted me, and showed me that i must try to practice all the virtues i would have my little girls possess, for i was their example.
it was easier to try for your sakes than for my own.
'oh, mother, if i'm ever half as good as you, i shall be satisfied,' cried jo, much touched.
'i hope you will be a great deal better, dear, but you must keep watch over your 'bosom enemy', as father calls it, or it may sadden, if not spoil your life.
you have had a warning.
remember it, and try with heart and soul to master this quick temper, before it brings you greater sorrow and regret than you have known today.'
d'you know what that little girl of mine did last saturday, when her troop was on a hike out berkhamsted way? she got two other girls to go with her, slipped off from the hike, and spent the whole afternoon following a strange man.
'i will try, mother, i truly will.
but you must help me, remind me, and keep me from flying out.
i used to see father sometimes put his finger on his lips, and look at you with a very kind but sober face, and you always folded your lips tight and went away.
was he reminding you then?'
asked jo softly.
i asked him to help me so, and he never forgot it, but saved me from many a sharp word by that little gesture and kind look.'
jo saw that her mother's eyes filled and her lips trembled as she spoke, and fearing that she had said too much, she whispered anxiously, 'was it wrong to watch you and to speak of it?
i didn't mean to be rude, but it's so comfortable to say all i think to you, and feel so safe and happy here.'
'my jo, you may say anything to your mother, for it is my greatest happiness and pride to feel that my girls confide in me and know how much i love them.'
'i thought i'd grieved you.'
they kept on his tail for two hours, right through the woods, and then, when they got into amersham, handed him over to the patrols.
'no, dear, but speaking of father reminded me how much i miss him, how much i owe him, and how faithfully i should watch and work to keep his little daughters safe and good for him.'
'yet you told him to go, mother, and didn't cry when he went, and never complain now, or seem as if you needed any help,' said jo, wondering.
'i gave my best to the country i love, and kept my tears till he was gone.