第 三十三 章 · JO’S JOURNAL

. JO’S JOURNAL

New York, November

Dear Marmee and Beth,

I’m going to write you a regular volume, for I’ve got heaps to tell,

though I’m not a fine young lady traveling on the continent. When I

lost sight of Father’s dear old face, I felt a trifle blue, and might

have shed a briny drop or two, if an Irish lady with four small

children, all crying more or less, hadn’t diverted my mind, for I

amused myself by dropping gingerbread nuts over the seat every time

they opened their mouths to roar.

Soon the sun came out, and taking it as a good omen, I cleared up

likewise and enjoyed my journey with all my heart.

Mrs. Kirke welcomed me so kindly I felt at home at once, even in that

big house full of strangers. She gave me a funny little sky parlor—all

she had, but there is a stove in it, and a nice table in a sunny

window, so I can sit here and write whenever I like. A fine view and a

church tower opposite atone for the many stairs, and I took a fancy to

my den on the spot. The nursery, where I am to teach and sew, is a

pleasant room next Mrs. Kirke’s private parlor, and the two little

girls are pretty children, rather spoiled, I fancy, but they took to me

after telling them The Seven Bad Pigs, and I’ve no doubt I shall make a

model governess.

I am to have my meals with the children, if I prefer it to the great

table, and for the present I do, for I am bashful, though no one will

believe it.

“Now, my dear, make yourself at home,” said Mrs. K. in her motherly

way, “I’m on the drive from morning to night, as you may suppose with

such a family, but a great anxiety will be off my mind if I know the

children are safe with you. My rooms are always open to you, and your

own shall be as comfortable as I can make it. There are some pleasant

people in the house if you feel sociable, and your evenings are always

free. Come to me if anything goes wrong, and be as happy as you can.

There’s the tea bell, I must run and change my cap.” And off she

bustled, leaving me to settle myself in my new nest.

As I went downstairs soon after, I saw something I liked. The flights

are very long in this tall house, and as I stood waiting at the head of

the third one for a little servant girl to lumber up, I saw a gentleman

come along behind her, take the heavy hod of coal out of her hand,

carry it all the way up, put it down at a door near by, and walk away,

saying, with a kind nod and a foreign accent, “It goes better so. The

little back is too young to haf such heaviness.”

Wasn’t it good of him? I like such things, for as Father says, trifles

show character. When I mentioned it to Mrs. K., that evening, she

laughed, and said, “That must have been Professor Bhaer, he’s always

doing things of that sort.”

Mrs. K. told me he was from Berlin, very learned and good, but poor as

a church mouse, and gives lessons to support himself and two little

orphan nephews whom he is educating here, according to the wishes of

his sister, who married an American. Not a very romantic story, but it

interested me, and I was glad to hear that Mrs. K. lends him her parlor

for some of his scholars. There is a glass door between it and the

nursery, and I mean to peep at him, and then I’ll tell you how he

looks. He’s almost forty, so it’s no harm, Marmee.

After tea and a go-to-bed romp with the little girls, I attacked the

big workbasket, and had a quiet evening chatting with my new