“What made you do it?” asked Amy, who would as soon have thought of cutting off her head as her pretty hair.
“Well, I was wild to to something for Father,” replied Jo, as they gathered about the table, for healthy young people can eat even in the midst of trouble. “I hate to borrow as much as Mother does, and I knew Aunt March would croak, she always does, if you ask for a ninepence. Meg gave all her quarterly salary toward the rent, and I only got some clothes with mine, so I felt wicked, and was bound to have some money, if I sold the nose off my face to get it.”
“You needn’t feel wicked, my child! You had no winter things and got the simplest with your own hard earnings,” said Mrs. March with a look that warmed Jo’s heart.
“I hadn’t the least idea of selling my hair at first, but as I went along I kept thinking what I could do, and feeling as if I’d like to dive into some of the rich stores and help myself. In a barber’s window I saw tails of hair with the prices marked, and one black tail, not so thick as mine, was forty dollars. It came to me all of a sudden that I had one thing to make money out of, and without stopping to think, I walked in, asked if they bought hair, and what they would give for mine.”
“I don’t see how you dared to do it,” said Beth in a tone of awe.
“Oh, he was a little man who looked as if he merely lived to oil his hair. He rather stared at first, as if he wasn’t used to having girls bounce into his shop and ask him to buy their hair. He said he didn’t care about mine, it wasn’t the fashionable color, and he never paid much for it in the first place. The work he put it into it made it dear, and so on. It was getting late, and I was afraid if it wasn’t done right away that I shouldn’t have it done at all, and you know when I start to do a thing, I hate to give it up. So I begged him to take it, and told him why I was in such a hurry. It was silly, I dare say, but it changed his mind, for I got rather excited, and told the story in my topsy-turvy way, and his wife heard, and said so kindly, `Take it, Thomas, and oblige the young lady. I’d do as much for our Jimmy any day if I had a spire of hair worth selling.”
“Who was Jimmy?” asked Amy, who liked to have things explained as they went along.
“Her son, she said, who was in the army. How friendly such things make strangers feel, don’t they? She talked away all the time the man clipped, and diverted my mind nicely.”
“Didn’t you feel dreadfully when the first cut came?” asked Meg, with a shiver.
“I took a last look at my hair while the man got his things, and that was the end of it. I never snivel over trifles like that. I will confess, though, I felt queer when I saw the dear old hair laid out on the table, and felt only the short rough ends of my head. It almost seemed as if I’d an arm or leg off. The woman saw me look at it, and picked out a long lock for me to keep. I’ll give it to you, Marmee, just to remember past glories by, for a crop is so comfortable I don’t think I shall ever have a mane again.”
Mrs. March folded the wavy chestnut lock, and laid it away with a short gray one in her desk. She only said, “Thank you, deary,” but something in her face made the girls change the subject, and talk as cheerfully as they could about Mr. Brooke’s kindness, the prospect of a fine day tomorrow, and the happy times they would have when Father came home to be nursed.
No one wanted to go to bed when at ten o’clock Mrs. March put by the last finished job, and said, “Come girls.” Beth went to the piano and played the father’s favorite hymn. All began bravely, but broke down one by one till Beth was left alone, singing with all her heart, for to her music was always a sweet consoler.