Little Women is a novel by American author Louisa May Alcott, which was
originally published in two volumes. Alcott wrote the books rapidly over several
months at the request of her publisher. The novel follows the lives of four sisters—Meg, Jo,
Beth, and Amy March—detailing their passage from childhood to womanhood, and is loosely
based on the author and her three sisters. It is an outstanding achievement of
nineteenth-century American literature, and the first children''s novel written
in the United States to have become an enduring classic.
The book has been adapted for film twice as silent films, and four
times with sound, in 1933, 1949, 1978 and 1994. Four television series were
made, including two in Britain in the 1950s and two anime series in Japan in
the 1980s. A musical version opened on Broadway in 2005. An American opera
version in 1998 has been performed internationally and filmed for broadcast on
US television in 2001.
CHAPTER 21 LAURIE MAKES MISCHIEF, AND JO MAKES PEACE 245
CHAPTER 22 PLEASANT MEADOWS 259
CHAPTER 23 AUNT MARCH SETTLES THE QUESTION 268
PART
II
CHAPTER 24 GOSSIP 282
CHAPTER 25 THE FIRST WEDDING 297
CHAPTER 26 ARTISTIC ATTEMPTS 305
CHAPTER 27 LITERARY LESSONS 317
CHAPTER 28 DOMESTIC EXPERIENCES 326
CHAPTER 29 CALLS 343
CHAPTER 30 CONSEQUENCES 357
CHAPTER 31 OUR FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT 371
CHAPTER 32 TENDER TROUBLES 383
CHAPTER 33 JO’S JOURNAL 397
CHAPTER 34 FRIEND 411
CHAPTER 35 HEARTACHE 429
CHAPTER 36 BETH’S SECRET 442
CHAPTER 37 NEW IMPRESSIONS 449
CHAPTER 38 ON THE SHELF 462
CHAPTER 39 LAZY LAURENCE 476
CHAPTER 40 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 492
CHAPTER 41 LEARNING TO FORGET 499
CHAPTER 42 ALL ALONE 514
CHAPTER 43 SURPRISES 524
CHAPTER 44 MY LORD AND LADY 542
CHAPTER 45 DAISY AND DEMI 548
CHAPTER 46 UNDER THE UMBRELLA 555
CHAPTER
47 HARVEST
TIME 572
內容試閱：
PLAYING PILGRIMS
“Christmas won’t be
Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.
“It’s so dreadful to
be poor!” sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress.
“I don’t think it’s
fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at
all,” added little Amy, with an injured sniff.
“We’ve got Father and
Mother, and each other,” said Beth contentedly from her corner.
The four young faces
on which the firelight shone brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened
again as Jo said sadly, “We haven’t got Father, and shall not have him for a
long time.” She didn’t say “perhaps never,” but each silently added it,
thinking of Father far away, where the fighting was.
Nobody spoke for a
minute; then Meg said in an altered tone, “You know the reason Mother proposed
not having any presents this Christmas was because it is going to be a hard
winter for everyone; and she thinks we ought not to spend money for pleasure,
when our men are suffering so in the army. We can’t do much, but we can make
our little sacrifices, and ought to do it gladly. But I am afraid I don’t,” and
Meg shook her head, as she thought regretfully of all the pretty things she
wanted.
“But I don’t think the
little we should spend would do any good. We’ve each got a dollar, and the army
wouldn’t be much helped by our giving that. I agree not to expect anything from
Mother or you, but I do want to buy Undine and Sintram for myself. I’ve wanted
it so long,” said Jo, who was a bookworm.
“I planned to spend
mine in new music,” said Beth, with a little sigh, which no one heard but the
hearth brush and kettle-holder.
“I shall get a nice
box of Faber’s drawing pencils; I really need them,” said Amy decidedly.
“Mother didn’t say
anything about our money, and she won’t wish us to give up everything. Let’s
each buy what we want, and have a little fun; I’m sure we work hard enough to
earn it,” cried Jo, examining the heels of her shoes in a gentlemanly manner.
“I know I do—teaching
those tiresome children nearly all day, when I’m longing to enjoy myself at
home,” began Meg, in the complaining tone again.
“You don’t have half
such a hard time as I do,” said Jo. “How would you like to be shut up for hours
with a nervous, fussy old lady, who keeps you trotting, is never satisfied, and
worries you till you’re ready to fly out the window or cry?”
“It’s naughty to
fret,—but I do think washing dishes and keeping things tidy is the worst work
in the world. It makes me cross, and my hands get so stiff, I can’t practice
well at all.” And Beth looked at her rough hands with a sigh that any one could
hear that time.
“I don’t believe any
of you suffer as I do,” cried Amy, “for you don’t have to go to school with
impertinent girls, who plague you if you don’t know your lessons, and laugh at
your dresses, and label your father if he isn’t rich, and insult you when your
nose isn’t nice.”
“If you mean libel,
I’d say so, and not talk about labels, as if Papa was a pickle bottle,”
advised Jo, laughing.
“I know what I mean,
and you needn’t be ‘statirical’ about it. It’s proper to use good words, and
improve your vocabilary,” returned Amy, with dignity.
“Don’t peck at one another,
children. Don’t you wish we had the money Papa lost when we were little, Jo?
Dear me! How happy and good we’d be, if we had no worries!” said Meg, who could
remember better times.
“You said the other
day you thought we were a deal happier than the King children, for they were
fighting and fretting all the time, in spite of their money.”
“So I did, Beth. Well,
I think we are. For though we do have to work, we make fun for ourselves, and
are a pretty jolly set, as Jo would say.”
“Jo does use such
slang words!” observed Amy, with a reproving look at the long figure stretched
on the rug. Jo immediately sat up, put her hands in her pockets, and began to
whistle.
“Don’t, Jo; It’s so
boyish!”
“That’s why I do it.”
“I detest rude,
unlady-like girls!”
“I hate affected,
niminy-piminy chits!”
“Birds in their little
nests agree,” sang Beth, the peace-maker, with such a funny face that both
sharp voices softened to a laugh, and the “pecking” ended for that time.
“Really, girls, you
are both to be blamed,” said Meg, beginning to lecture in her elder-sisterly
fashion. “You are old enough to leave off boyish tricks, and to behave better,
Josephine. It didn’t matter so much when you were a little girl, but now you
are so tall, and turn up your hair, you should remember that you are a young
lady.”
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