A Merry Christmas by Louisa May Alcott Read Free Book Online Page B

came from lugging heavy babies at the orphanage.
    â€œI cuffed ’em both for it, and I have always liked Patty,” said Harry, in a moral tone, which moved Ned to say—
    â€œYou’d be a selfish little rascal if you didn’t, when she slaves so for you and gets no thanks for it. Now that I know how it tires her poor little back to carry wood and water, I shall do it myself, of course. If she’d only told me, I’d have done it all the time.”
    And so it went until the letters were done and they knew Patty as she was. Each felt sorry that he or she had not found her out before. Aunt Jane freed her mind on the subject, but the others continued to discuss it until quite an enthusiastic state of feeling set in, and Patty was in danger of being killed with kindness.
    It is astonishing how generous and clever people are when once awakened to duty, a charity, or a wrong. Now everyone was eager to repair past neglect, and if Aunt Jane had not wisely restrained them, the young folks would have done something absurd.
    They laid many nice little plans to surprise Patty, and each privately resolved not only to give her a Christmas gift but also to do the better thing by turning over a new leaf for the new year.
    All the way home, they talked over their various projects, and the boys kept bouncing into the seat with Aunt Jane to ask advice about their funny ideas.
    â€œIt must have been rather lonesome for the poor little soul all day. I declare, I wish we’d taken her along!” said Mrs. Murray, as they approached the house through the softly falling snow.
    â€œShe’s got a jolly good fire all ready for us, and that’s a mercy, for I’m half frozen,” said Harry, hopping up the step.
    â€œDon’t you think if I touch up my blue merino, it would fit Patty and make a nice dress along with one of my white aprons?” whispered Ella, as she helped Aunt Jane out of the sleigh.
    â€œI hope the child isn’t sick or scared. It’s two hours later than I expected to be home,” added Mr. Murray, stepping up to peep in at the kitchen window, for no one came to open the door and no light but the blaze of the fire shone out.
    â€œCome softly and look in,” he whispered, beckoning to the rest. “It’s a pretty little sight even if it is in a kitchen.”
    Quietly creeping to the two low windows, they all looked in, and no one said a word, for the lonely little figure was both pretty and pathetic when they remembered the letters lately read. Patty lay flat on the old rug, fast asleep with one arm pillowed under her head. In the other arm lay Puss in a cozy bunch, as if she had crept there to be sociable since there was no one else to share Patty’s long vigil. A row of slippers, large and small, stood warming on the hearth, two little nightgowns hung over a chair, the teapot stood in a warm nook, and through the open door, they could see the lamp burning brightly in the sitting room, the table ready, and all things in order.
    â€œFaithful little creature! She’s thought of every blessed thing, and I’ll go right in and wake her with a good kiss!” cried Mrs. Murray, darting for the door.
    But Aunt Jane drew her back, begging her not to frighten the child by any sudden, unexpected demonstrations of affection. So they all went softly in—so softly that tired Patty did not wake, even though Puss pricked up her ears and opened her moony eyes with a lazy purr.
    â€œLook here!” whispered Bob, pointing to the poor little gifts half tumbling out of Patty’s apron. She had been pinning names on them when she fell asleep, and now her secret was known too soon.
    No one laughed at the presents, and with a look of tender pity, Ella covered the few humble treasures in Patty’s box. As she laid back, she remembered what she had once called “rubbish,” how full her own boxes were with the pretty things girls love, and how easy it