An Old-Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott Read Free Book Online Page B

received this reply:
    “No, dear; the dress is proper and becoming as it is, and the old fashion of simplicity the best for all of us. I don’t want
     my Polly to be loved for her clothes, but for herself; so wear the plain frocks mother took such pleasure in making for you,
     and let the
panniers
go. The least of us have some influence in this big world; and perhaps my little girl can do some good by showing others
     that a contented heart and a happy face are better ornaments than any Paris can give her. You want a locket, deary; so I send
     one that my mother gave me years ago. You will find father’s face on one side, mine on the other; and when things trouble
     you, just look at your talisman, and I think the sunshine will come back again.”
    Of course it did, for the best of all magic was shut up in the quaint little case that Polly wore inside her frock, and kissed
     so tenderly each night and morning. The thought that, insignificant as she was, she yet might do some good, made her very
     careful of her acts and words, and so anxious to keep heart contented and face happy, that she forgot her clothes, and made
     others do the same. She did not know it, but that good old fashion of simplicity made the plain gowns pretty, and the grace
     of unconsciousness beautified their little wearer with the charm that makes girlhood sweetest to those who truly love and
     reverence it. One temptation Polly had already yielded to before the letter came, and repented heartily of afterward.
    “Polly, I wish you’d let me call you Marie,” said Fanny one day, as they were shopping together.
    “You may call me Mary, if you like; but I won’t have any
ie
put on to my name. I’m Polly at home, and I’m fond of being called so; but Marie is Frenchified and silly.”
    “I spell my own name with an
ie,
and so do all the girls.”
    “And what a jumble of Netties, Nellies, Hatties, and Sallies there is. How ‘Pollie’ would look spelt so!”
    “Well, never mind; that wasn’t what I began to say. There’s one thing you must have, and that is, bronze boots,” said Fan,
     impressively.
    “Why must I, when I’ve got enough without?”
    “Because it’s the fashion to have them, and you can’t be finished off properly without. I’m going to get a pair, and so must
     you.”
    “Don’t they cost a great deal?”
    “Eight or nine dollars, I believe. I have mine charged; but it don’t matter if you haven’t got the money. I can lend you some.”
    “I’ve got ten dollars to do what I like with; but I meant to get some presents for the children.” And Polly took out her purse
     in an undecided way.
    “You can make presents easy enough. Grandma knows all sorts of nice contrivances. They’ll do just as well; and then you can
     get your boots.”
    “Well; I’ll look at them,” said Polly, following Fanny into the store, feeling rather rich and important to be shopping in
     this elegant manner.
    “Aren’t they lovely? Your foot is perfectly divine in that boot, Polly. Get them for my party; you’ll dance like a fairy,”
     whispered Fan.
    Polly surveyed the dainty, shining boot with the scalloped top, the jaunty heel, and the delicate toe, thought her foot did
     look very well in it, and after a little pause, said she would have them. It was all very delightful till she got home, and
     was alone; then, on looking into her purse, she saw one dollar and the list of things she meant to get for mother and the
     children. How mean the dollar looked all alone! And how long the list grew when there was nothing to buy the articles.
    “I can’t make skates for Ned, nor a desk for Will; and those are what they have set their hearts upon. Father’s book and mother’s
     collar are impossible now; and I’m a selfish thing to go and spend all my money for myself. How could I do it?” And Polly
     eyed the new boots reproachfully, as they stood in the first position as if ready for the party. “They
are
lovely; but I don’t