was just that the idea of death itself—even if in this case it was only a canary—reminded me that there were more serious things in the world than the silly things I mostly thought about? Maybe it was just the reminder that anyone could die at any time?
What was going on back home, in my real life? Suddenly I missed my own world so much, and not the things, for once, but the people. I even missed Charlotte. And then a thought occurred to me, a scary thought: if I was so oblivious to things going on around me here that I’d failed to notice a canary in the house until that canary up and died, how in the world was I ever going to save Beth?
I began to cry harder.
“Huh.” Jo eyed me strangely as she offered me a handkerchief that looked none too clean. “I didn’t even know you liked Pip. As far as I could tell, you never even noticed he was there.”
It was a big job, doing the cleanup after dinner. Beth was still too upset over Pip to help, Meg felt she’d done enough that day in making breakfast, and Jo thought she’d done enough in making dinner, and so I had to do all the work, since Laurie had offered to take Amy for a drive in his carriage.
Hel-lo! I thought as I scraped dishes. What was up with that?
Then Marmee came home, Amy came back, we were all together again, Marmee asked how our day was, we confessed that it had been fast and awful.
And then Marmee gave a speech about the need for a balance between work and play, concluding with:
“Work is wholesome.”
That Marmee! I thought. What a sly boots!
Twelve
Beth had been appointed our postmistress, meaning it was her job to unlock the little door in the box Laurie installed and then distribute our mail. She’d been appointed because she was the one who spent the most time at home. Also, because we felt sorry for her, having so little in her life that most people would find exciting and feeling that such an important job would mean a lot to her. Also, because some of us were hoping to wean her away from that wretched Joanna doll.
Okay, that last was me.
On that day in July, when Beth entered the house with the mail, her arms were filled to overflowing. My, we were a popular group!
“Here’s the nosegay for Marmee that Laurie always sends,” Beth announced as she began distributing the mail.
HA! What a kiss-up Laurie could be at times.
“Here’s one letter and one glove for Meg.” Beth handed the items over.
The letter was from Mr. Brooke, Laurie’s tutor, translating a song from German that Meg had requested. As for that single glove, it was a puzzle, since Meg claimed to have left two at the Laurence house.
HA! I thought about the single glove. I didn’t really know what the single glove meant, but it was odd and did seem as though it could be HA!-worthy.
“Two letters for Jo, a book, plus a funny old hat from Laurie so she won’t burn her face.” Beth looked relieved to be rid of so much of the mail burden in one shot.
HA! But then I realized there was nothing to HA! about. Instead, I was resentful: Jo always got the most mail, plus I needed that hat more than she did. I was the one with the fair skin that always burned.
One of Jo’s letters was from Marmee, congratulating Jo on the good progress she’d been making in controlling her temper.
HA! Her efforts to control her temper—Marmee hadn’t been there that day in the rowboat when Jo had tried to throttle Laurie.
Jo’s other letter was from the boy she’d tried to throttle. Laurie wrote that he had some English boys and girls visiting the next day—friends he’d made abroad—and he wanted the March girls to join them all at Longmeadow, where a tent would be pitched, a fire lit, lunch eaten, and croquet played. He also said that Mr. Brooke would be going along to keep the boys in line, while Kate Vaughn, the oldest of the English girls, would be in charge of the rest of us.
Jo insisted Marmee must let us go, claiming that she, Jo, could be such a help to Laurie with the rowing—HA! She hadn’t rowed a single row that day on the lake—and Marmee agreed.
“Amy’s got chocolate drops here,” Beth said, continuing with the mail distribution, “and a