Little Tranquillity

Our Foreign Correspondence

Dear Marmee,
Why has no one ever told me how jolly one can be on a ship? I can almost die of excitement. Aunt March spends most of her time feeling sick in her cabin, and so do Uncle and Flo. I daresay that leaves me to myself, for Aunt Mary does nothing but read in the library and amusing herself with a boring piece of needlework she would oblige me to help. I've befriended a little cabin boy, who can tie no ropes nor sing jolly tunes like we read in books. Little Cedric is trying to learn to read and write, and the ship's doctor and nurse helps him. The good boy never tries to curse or say silly things, and is rather wise for his age. The doctor said his father is dead, and his mother, well, not much is known of his mother, but dead, also, perhaps. The poor creature does nothing but copy his numbers and be taught about anatomy and medicines. He quite fancies me, I suppose, for the doctor and the nurse are bores. He brings me to explore the ship when the doctor isn't teaching and I've met a few jolly fellows. There's a young lady 'round Beth's age who has great likings for music and is monstrous lively. She and Beth would get along, I'm sure.

I shall post this once I get to London, and I wish you all well. I'll try my best to find new music for our little turtle-dove, and get Aunt March to buy heaps of gloves for Meg.

Love,
Jo

Marmee,
Will it much scandalise you if I said Aunt March is as displeased as ever over my befriending little Cedric? She looked as if she was about to disown me, especially when she saw I had no gloves on. Aunt Mary looked like she was about to laugh. Had I not always said Aunt Mary was the more amiable of the two? Florence, was, as usual, amused over everything, and she was obliged to laugh and be silly over everything. If Aunt March had not been there I should have gave her a good shake. She is not one bit like her mother. School has not done her any good, I suppose, and the silly schoolgirl giggle has got the better of her.

Aunt March bought me half a dozen of gloves, of which I objected to, but was ignored, and almost got half a dozen more if I insisted. Meg shall have a great time making them into bonnets when I return, for Aunt March, with all her sensibilities, decided to take Florence's advice and buy lace gloves instead of sensible ones. That is just as intolerable as the silly girl herself. I did not manage to wheedle Aunt March into buying some for Meg, but Aunt Mary was thoughtful and secretly bought them.

The first ride we had in London was in a great barouche, and I quite enjoyed it. It was much comfier than our American chaises, and we could enjoy the view properly without being squished and squashed like in Aunt March's chaise or one of those open carriages we sometimes hire. Flo was too busy admiring the grandness of the barouche to mind us, Aunt March was asleep, and that left Uncle to point to me the interesting things along the way. Aunt Mary sat down to sketch the sky and managed it wonderfully. How could I not know before that she could draw?

I am quite happy, here, and I really wish you were all here, but since you aren't, perhaps I could ask Aunt Mary to sketch some of the scenery for you to enjoy?

Love,
Jo

Dearest Marmee,
London seems a better place than in books. It is not exactly very muddy or dusty, for I am sure New York is worse. But I shall still want to be in Bath or Yorkshire more. They seem to be much better than where we are. To make it only more frustrating, Aunt March's nags constantly ring in my ears. If only she would stop trying to find faults in me!

Flo is a little more agreeable lately, and well, I am quite relieved. I will, perhaps, go utterly nuts if she is to continue in that manner. Aunt March has insisted in buying me new dresses, and claimed that those in my trunks looked like mourning dresses. She insisted that I dress like a fine lady, instead of a widow. Mind you, those were her very words. She means well, of course, but by Jove! I feel as if I could suffocate in these!

Uncle secretly bought me new books and a pretty inkstand, though I have no use of that at all. Suppose I could give it to Beth. It is only such a dainty little thing. Aunt Mary found a nice little shop that sells music, and great heavens, the great music they sell! Aunt March did not need to think twice before buying all she wanted for her favourite niece. I hope that cheers you, Beth, for I can almost imagine your dainty little smile when the paper reaches you.

There! I have written for too long, and the aunts will croak at me, of course. All my best regards are frightened away by Aunt March's lectures, but I wish you all well, and a very happy autumn.

Love,
Jo

Marmee,
We are to set off to Bath on the morrow, and the agitation shall kill me. Must I imagine all the excitement going on there, and torture myself by being unable to sleep?

We met Fred Vaughn this morning, and he was very much obliged to join us. He took a great fancy to Flo and was obliged to play her knight. We saw Frank, too, and his leg was getting much better. He no longer needs a crutch, only limps a little, and is very amiable, if not a little too quiet, as he once was. He asked of Beth, and was sorry to hear that she was ill, then glad when Flo added that she was mending, and was happy. Flo got mad when Frank referred to Meg as the 'governess', but quickly forgave him when he admitted that he did not know her name. Kate Vaughn is about to be Mrs Alford, and happy about it. Fred laughed at Laurie's attempts to matchmake John and her, and so did I. How horribly wrong that attempt to matchmake went. Don't I wish I could relive I again!

I shall send more letters in the future, for I have been monstrous busy entertaining Aunt March. I do hope she will find herself some amusements in Bath and not trouble anyone with her nags.

Love,
Jo