Cast away at the very bottom of the table was the Professor,shouting answers to the questions of a very inquisitive,deaf old gentleman on one side,and talking philosophy with a Frenchman on the other.If Amy had been here,she’d have turned her back on him forever because,sad to relate, he had a great appetite,and shoveled in his dinner in a manner which would have horrified ‘her ladyship’. I didn’t mind, for I like ‘to see folks eat with a relish’, as Hannah says, and the poor man must have needed a deal of food after teaching idiots all day.
As I went upstairs after dinner,two of the young men were settling their hats before the hall mirror,and I heard one say low to the other,“Who’s the new party?”
“Governess, or something of that sort.”
“What the deuce is she at our table for?”
“Friend of the old lady’s.”
“Handsome head, but no style.”
“Not a bit of it. Give us a light and come on.”
I felt angry at first, and then I didn’t care,for a governess is as good as a clerk,and I’ve got sense, if I haven’t style,which is more than some people have,judging from the remarks of the elegant beings who clattered away,smoking like bad chimneys. I hate ordinary people!
Thursday
Yesterday was a quiet day spent in teaching, sewing,and writing in my little room, which is very cozy,with a light and fire.I picked up a few bits of news and was introduced to the Professor.It seems that Tina is the child of the Frenchwoman who does the fine ironing in the laundry here. The little thing has lost her heart to Mr. Bhaer, and follows him about the house like a dog whenever he is at home, which delights him, as he is very fond of children, though a ‘bacheldore’. Kitty and Minnie Kirke likewise regard him with affection, and tell all sorts of stories about the plays he invents, the presents he brings, and the splendid tales he tells. The younger men quiz him, it seems, call him Old Fritz, Lager Beer, Ursa Major, and make all manner of jokes on his name. But he enjoys it like a boy, Mrs. Kirke says, and takes it so good-naturedly that they all like him in spite of his foreign ways.
The maiden lady is a Miss Norton, rich, cultivated,and kind. She spoke to me at dinner today (for I went to table again,it’s such fun to watch people),and asked me to come and see her at her room.She has fine books and pictures,knows interesting persons, and seems friendly,so I shall make myself agreeable,for I do want to get into good society,only it isn’t the same sort that Amy likes.
I was in our parlor last evening when Mr.Bhaer came in with some newspapers for Mrs. Kirke.She wasn’t there, but Minnie,who is a little old woman, introduced me very prettily.“This is Mamma’s friend, Miss March.”
“Yes, and she’s jolly and we like her lots,” added Kitty, who is an ‘enfant terrible’.
We both bowed, and then we laughed,for the prim introduction and the blunt addition were rather a comical contrast.
“Ah, yes, I hear these naughty ones go to vex you,Mees Marsch. If so again, call at me and I come,” he said, with a threatening frown that delighted the little wretches.
I promised I would, and he departed,but it seems as if I was doomed to see a good deal of him,for today as I passed his door on my way out,by accident I knocked against it with my umbrella.It flew open, and there he stood in his dressing gown,with a big blue sock on one hand and a darning needle in the other.He didn’t seem at all ashamed of it,for when I explained and hurried on, he waved his hand,sock and all, saying in his loud, cheerful way...
“You haf a fine day to make your walk. Bon voyage, Mademoiselle.”
I laughed all the way downstairs,but it was a little pathetic,also to think of the poor man having to mend his own clothes.The German gentlemen embroider, I know,but darning hose is another thing and not so pretty.
Saturday
Nothing has happened to write about,except a call on Miss Norton,who has a room full of pretty things,and who was very charming,for she showed me all her treasures,and asked me if I would sometimes go with her to lectures and concerts,as her escort, if I enjoyed them.She put it as a favor, but I’m sure Mrs.Kirke has told her about us,and she does it out of kindness to me.I’m as proud as Lucifer,but such favors from such people don’t burden me,and I accepted gratefully.
When I got back to the nursery there was such an uproar in the parlor that I looked in, and there was Mr. Bhaer down on his hands and knees, with Tina on his back, Kitty leading him with a jump rope, and Minnie feeding two small boys with seedcakes, as they roared and ramped in cages built of chairs.
“We are playing nargerie,” explained Kitty.
“Dis is mine effalunt!” added Tina, holding on by the Professor’s hair.
“Mamma always allows us to do what we like Saturday afternoon,when Franz and Emil come, doesn’t she, Mr. Bhaer?” said Minnie.
The ‘effalunt’ sat up,looking as much in earnest as any of them,and said soberly to me, “I gif you my wort it is so,if we make too large a noise you shall say Hush!to us, and we go more softly.”
I promised to do so,but left the door open and enjoyed the fun as much as they did,for a more glorious frolic I never witnessed.They played tag and soldiers, danced and sang,and when it began to grow dark they all piled onto the sofa about the Professor, while he told charming fairy stories of the storks on the chimney tops, and the little ‘koblods’, who ride the snowflakes as they fall. I wish Americans were as simple and natural as Germans, don’t you?
I’m so fond of writing,I should go spinning on forever if motives of economy didn’t stop me,for though I’ve used thin paper and written fine,I tremble to think of the stamps this long letter will need.Pray forward Amy’s as soon as you can spare them.My small news will sound very flat after her splendors,but you will like them, I know.Is Teddy studying so hard that he can’t find time to write to his friends?Take good care of him for me, Beth,and tell me all about the babies,and give heaps of love to everyone.From your faithful Jo.
P.S. On reading over my letter,it strikes me as rather Bhaery,but I am always interested in odd people,and I really had nothing else to write about. Bless you!
DECEMBER
My Precious Betsey,
As this is to be a scribble-scrabble letter,I direct it to you, for it may amuse you,and give you some idea of my goings on,for though quiet, they are rather amusing, for which, oh, be joyful!After what Amy would call Herculaneum efforts,in the way of mental and moral agriculture,my young ideas begin to shoot and my little twigs to bend as I could wish.They are not so interesting to me as Tina and the boys,but I do my duty by them, and they are fond of me.Franz and Emil are jolly little lads,quite after my own heart,for the mixture of German and American spirit in them produces a constant state of effervescence. Saturday afternoons are riotous times, whether spent in the house or out, for on pleasant days they all go to walk, like a seminary, with the Professor and myself to keep order, and then such fun!
We are very good friends now,and I’ve begun to take lessons.I really couldn’t help it,and it all came about in such a droll way that I must tell you.To begin at the beginning, Mrs.Kirke called to me one day as I passed Mr.Bhaer’s room where she was rummaging.
“Did you ever see such a den, my dear?Just come and help me put these books to rights,for I’ve turned everything upside down,trying to discover what he has done with the six new handkerchiefs I gave him not long ago.”