My sisters and I remembered that winter as our childhood's coldest.
A temporary poverty had hit our family some years before.
The war made fuel and lamp oil scarce.
But necessity is the mother of invention.
Somehow in that dark time, the March family created its own light.
Marmee's home!
We've expectorated you for hours!
- "Expected", featherhead ! - Marmee, you're frozen.
- So many people at Hope House! - You finished the bundles?
So many this year! We handed out . . . How's your cold?
We gave them out as fast as we made them.
Now, Miss Amy, what's in my pocket?
Father!
"Dearest family. I am well and safe."
"Our battalion is encamped on the Potomac."
"December is cold for us, so far from home."
"I think of my girls day and night. It comforts me."
"I pray your own hardships may not be too great. Give them my love."
"Tell them I think of them by day, pray for them by night."
I'm a selfish girl.
It's Christmas Eve. Father wouldn't want us to be sad.
To bed, Miss Amy. Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.
- Merry Christmas. - I love you.
- My Jo . . . Merry Christmas. - Merry Christmas, Marmee.
- Don't sit up too late. - I won't.
At night, my mind came alive -
- with voices and friends as dear to me as my real ones.
I gave myself up to it, longing for transformation.
What miraculous food ! Isn't this just like the old days, Hannah?
- We should just look at it! - Jo, come down.
I'm awake! Horrible piano . . .
- Hannah's made a Christmas miracle. - Is that sausage?
Wait!
Butter! Isn't butter divinity? God, thank you for this breakfast.
Fetch Marmee. She went out at dawn to see some Germans.
"Hummel," the boy said. No English. His dad's gone.
Six children, and another coming.
May as well take them firewood, they haven't any. Or breakfast.
We could send the Hummels our bread.
And the butter, too. It's not much use without bread.
- Wonderful snow! - Wouldn't you like to roll in it?
Once one of our finest families.
- Lovely weather for a picnic. - Come on, Theodore. We'll be late.
Jo, let them speak first. What Will they think of us?
Don't look back!
"Knights and ladies, monks and flowergirls, -
- all mingled in the dance."
"Pauline cried out as the groom's mask fell."
"It was not her lover Ferdinand, but his sworn enemy Count Antonio."
"Revenge is mine," quoth he.
- "Continued in the next edition." - Excellent, Mr. Snodgrass!
- I love forbidden marriages! - You ought to publish it, Jo.
What's wrong with our newspaper, Mr. Tupman?
"One periwink . . . Advertisement."
"One periwinkle sash has been abscondated from the wash line."
"A gentleman desires any reports leading to its recovery."
Gentlemen of the press: Hear, hear!
"I call your attention to Mr. Tupman's History of the Squash."
- This is a recipe, Beth ! - I never know what to write.
The first rule of writing is, never write what you know.
What do you think of the boy?
Is he a captive like Smee in "Nicholas Nickleby"?
He looks lonely.
Maybe he has a secret. A tragic, European secret.
He was reared in Italy among artists and vagrants.
He has a noble brow. If I was a boy, I'd like to look like that.
Imagine giving up Italy to come and live with that awful old man.
I'd be terrified to live with him.
I'd like to live in such a fine house with nice things.
It doesn't seem like Christmas without presents.
I'm desperate for drawing pencils.
I wish I didn't have to work for Great-Aunt March.
What's your Christmas wish, Beth?
I'd like the war to end, so Father can come home.
- Sweet Beth ! We all want that. - They have a beautiful piano.
When I'm a writer, I'll buy you the best piano ever.
Or else you can play on mine. When I marry, I'll be disgustingly rich.
What if the man you love is poor but good, like Father?
It's not like being stuck with a dreadful nose. One can choose.
I wouldn't marry for money. What if his business goes bust?
The Eagle pays five dollars a story. I have ten in my head right now.
Gentlemen ! I dislike all this money talk.
If lack of attention to finance is refinement, -
- then the Marches are the most elegant family in Concord.
We'll all grow up one day, Meg. We might as well know what we want.
That'll do.
- Put the carriage away. Quickly! - Merry Christmas.
I have a wonderful feeling.
Tell me all about Belle Gardiner. About her nose and her ring.
Annie says it's an emerald. Everyone's lucky but me!
I'm glad I don't have to go and be with all those frightening people.
Jo, don't eat much at supper, and don't shake hands . . . Your dress!
You stand too close to the fire. Just keep your back to the wall.
- What cunning little heels! - They're rather small.
It's only one night. Will anyone notice they're from the rag bag?
You have to have heels.
What's that strange smell?
Like burnt feathers . . .
- Heavens above! - You've ruined me!
You shouldn't have had me do it. I spoil everything.
- I can't go out like this. - Good. I'm not going either.
We'll place my bow in front.
Yes, that covers it.
I'll never have suitors. I'll be an old spinster.
You don't need scores of suitors, only one. The right one.
- Listen to the child ! - Meg won't be married right away.
With Jo's help, I never will.
- You must be so happy! - It's enchanting.
I'd best go help Mama. Excuse me.
- Jehosephat! I'm sorry. - Stay! It's a good hiding place.
I feel awkward just standing and staring at people.
should I put on my jacket? I don't know the rules.
I'm Laurie. Theodore Laurence . . . called Laurie.
Jo March. So, who were you staring at?
- At you. What game was that? - I don't know, but I think I won.
Who else?
I was quite taken with . . . that one.
That's Meg. That's my sister.
She's completely bald in front.
Is it true you lived in Italy among artists and vagrants?
My mother was Italian. A pianist.
- Grandfather disapproved of her. - I saw a play like that.
Do you like the theatre? Were you born there?
- Where . .? In Italy. - Do you speak French or Italian?
English at home. Francais a l'ecole. Music Conservatory, -
- but Grandfather got me a tutor. He insists I go to college.
I'd commit murder to go to college!
Actually, I'm going to Europe. At least, I hope I am.
My great-aunt says she'll go soon. I work as her companion.
I have to read to her for hours. But I do all the voices.
Were I not going to be a writer, I'd go to New York and pursue the stage.
- Are you shocked? - Very!
Sorry! Meg makes me take the gentleman's part.
A shame you don't know the lady's part!
Are you looking at the back of my dress?
You promised you wouldn't look!
- I've sprained my ankle. - It's the shoes. Does it hurt?
- No! I'm quite well. - This is our neighbour Laurie.
- I'll get Mrs. Gardiner. - No, she'll think it's the punch.
- A perfectly good party ruined. - Let me take you home.
Thank you !
Here, lean on me. Thank you, Mr. Laurence.
- Bye, Laurie! - Wherever did you get this shoe?
Did you ride in his carriage? You're so lucky. Is he very romantic?
- Not in the slightest. - He's a dreadful boy.
He was wise to use snow.
He put snow on her ankle? With his own hands?
- Stop being so swoony. - You mustn't be silly about boys.
- Does this hurt? - Everything lovely happens to Meg.
Don't be soppy about Laurie. I hope we'll be good friends.
- With a boy? - He isn't a boy. He's Laurie.
Faster!
The young ladles are unusually active, if I may say so.
girls need exertion just like boys. Feminine weakness is the result -
- of keeping them at home, bent over needlework, in restrictive corsets.
Marmee!
Your young student is an athlete.
He is, thank you. A good one. But he's an unruly scholar.
I regret that his grandfather is away much.
One hopes that your girls Will be a gentling influence.
Must you speak to everyone about corsets?
Do I?
Blast these wretched skirts!
- Don't say "blast". - Amy, don't be such a ninny-pinny.
I wish I was Beth, so I could stay home.
If you like laundry and housework!
- Blast! - Amy, hurry. I'll be late for work.
There's Mrs. King. I'm tardy again.
- Lovely children ! - Meg, must I go to school?
I'm so degradetated. I owe at least a dozen limes.
- Are limes the fashion? - It's nothing but limes now.
Everyone keeps them in their desks and trades them for beads.
If you don't bring limes, you're nothing. I can't pay anyone back.
No wonder you don't learn anything.
I know how it feels to do without luxuries. We're not destitute yet.
Here's a quarter. Marmee gave me the rag money this month.
"Secondly, the immortality of the soul -
- is asserted to be in consequence of its immateriality, -
- as in all leipothymic cases -
- consistent with the idea of immortality."
"And immorality and physicality . . ."
. . . and I think you finally dozed off.
Josephine! There's a draught!
Is it Father?
Teacher struck me. He put the limes out into the snow.
May Chester said my limes were for the homeless.
So I said she wouldn't get any from me.
So she told Mr. Davis they were in my desk, and he struck me.
- I'll beat the tar out of him ! - Jo, we must not embrace violence.
- I Will write him a letter. - That'll show him.
You didn't say they were forbidden. A month's rag money!
- I shouldn't have given it to you. - I'm sorry. All those lovely limes.
- I'm perfectly desolated. - It's a frivolous concern.
You're more concerned with your nose than your character.
It's an appalling school. Your spelling's atrocious.
Mr. Davis said it was as useful to educate a woman as a cat.
I'll strangle Mr. Davis!
"Mr. Davis . . . What right have you to strike a child?"
"In God's eyes we are all children. If you hit and humillate a child, -
- the only lesson she Will learn is to hit and humillate."
Can you discipline yourself to learn at home, as Beth has done?
- I withdraw Amy from your school. - Serves him right!
Jo Will now supervise your education.
Jo, Tell me what happens next.
After the duke renounces his fortune and saves Lady Zara . . .
I don't know. It's all murder. The damsel's in distress.
I love your damsels in distress.
Beth, truly, I don't know if I could ever be good like Marmee.
I rather crave violence.
If only I could be like Father, and go to war and fight injustice.
- So Marmee does, in her own way. - Yes . . .
I want to do something different. I don't know what, I'm on the watch.
You'll find it, Jo.
Jo! Come over here! You too, Meg ! It's dead as tombs around here.
One doesn't shout at ladies like cattle.
My apologies!
What do those girls do all day?
Over the mysteries of female life is drawn a veil -
- best left undisturbed.
"Dear Countess, pray for me, -
- for I have sinned against myself and my brother Roderigo."
You've got to say "sinned" as if you've really sinned.
Roderigo: You arrive, seeking the Duke of Lancashire.
Hark, ye! Who goes there? I forgot the cymbals.
It's Roderigo!
I want to be Lady Violet. I'm exhaustified of being the boy.
"The play's the thing," Amy. You're too little to be Lady Violet.
- Be the Countess de Montanescu. - You've no lines.
Besides, who'd be Roderigo?
Gentlemen . . .
I propose a new member for our theatrical soclety:
Theodore Laurence.
- He'll laugh at us. - He'll think it's only a game.
- He won't. I promise. - We'd have to guard our conduct.
We bare our souls and Tell secrets.
- He would find us improper. - Teddy would certainly not!
Please! Let's try him, shall we?
- Traitor! - Artists! May I present myself . . .
. . . as an actor, musician, -
- and a loyal and humble servant of the club.
In token of my gratitude and to promote communication, -
- shouting from the windows being forbidden, I shall provide -
- a post office in our hedge.
To further encourage the baring of our souls -
- and the Telling of our secrets.
I do pledge never to reveal what I hear in confidence here.
well then . . .
- Do take your place, Roderigo. - Sir Roderigo.
So Laurie was admitted into our soclety.
And we enjoyed the daily novelty of having our own real brother.
- I want to go to the theatre! - No. Where are the opera glasses?
You're just hogging Laurie. Please, can't I go?
Laurie only reserved four seats. Do I look shabby?
It's not a coronation, just Laurie and that awful Mr. Brooke.
- Ask him for another ticket. - No.
- You've a cold. Rest your eyes. - We'll make ginger tea.
You're weeks behind in algebra. I won't have an ignorant sister.
Don't sulk, you look like a pigeon.
You'll be sorry, Jo March !
Thank you.
Mrs. Neil Watson, wasn't she a wonderful swooner?
- If only I were the swooning type. - And I the catching type!
Young Laurence says you are an aficionado of the theatre.
I enjoy reading plays.
Yes, I find it most pleasurable myself.
But I am distracted at the theatre, thinking of actors' peculiar lives.
With such immodestles, one wonders what sort of lady wants such a life.
Meg is a sensational actress. We put on wild theatricals.
It's just something that we play at.
well, as a matter of fact, at school . . .
What do you think of that? Let's see what they do!
I had a wonderful time, Mr. Brooke.
It was a most delightful evening.
- Thank you very much. Goodnight! - Goodnight!
- That was rude. - You plastered yourself on him.
- It's proper to take a man's arm. - How was the theatre?
It was wonderful. I was absolutely inspired by the love scene.
You look flushed. Was the theatre overcrowded?
Still sulking?
Where did I put my manuscript?
I didn't do it!
I'm going to kill you !
Jehosephat!
How could you do this to me?
Jo, stop it! You're hurting her.
- Let her go. What's happened? - I hate you !
Don't touch it, just let it go.
You're dead ! You're nothing !
I never want to see you again !
It's a great loss. You have every right to be put out.
But don't let the sun go down on your anger. Forgive each other.
- Begin again tomorrow. - I'll never forgive her.
I'm sorry, Jo.
Looks like the last ice this year.
- Say "go". - Wait for me.
Ignore her. Ready . . . Blast!
Amy!
Hold on !
Hold on, Amy!
Get a rail !
Grab it, Amy!
Hold on !
There we go. That's it, that's it.
Josephine March, you walked from Walden Pond in just bloomers?
- As if she noticed ! Dear Amy. - How could I be so horrible?
- Thank God for Laurie. - Do you love him more than me?
Don't be a beetle! I could never love anyone as I love my sisters.
You left out the part where Lady Zara succumbs to the duke's rival.
Right! Sir Hugo . . .
I quite prefer him myself.
ln the spring, we prepared for Meg to go to Sally Moffat's coming-out.
Myself, l'd sooner be hung than attend a fancy ball.
Wait until all Boston sees you !
I told Laurie to keep you from being a wallflower upon penalty of death.
Where is that miserable glove?
Abigail, I shake my head at how you're managing Margaret.
How is she to be married without a proper d?ut?
Things Will not change with your husband's return.
My nephew is as foolish with money as with his new philosophies.
The one hope for your family is for Margaret to marry well.
Though I don't know who marries governesses.
And this one is entirely ruined with books. Are those for me?
They're for Meg to take with her. Marmee, she's lost a glove!
She can't go without gloves. They're soclety.
You're right. She may borrow mine.
- Meg ! You can take Marmee's! - Oh, dear . . .
- More tea? - No thank you !
Sally Moffat, you won't be able to draw your laces.
At my coming-out, I didn't eat for weeks.
- I do like that colour on you. - It's just like forget-me-nots.
I haven't seen such fabric for years.
- But you had it made up so plain. - well, I do my own sewing, and . . .
Mrs. Finster has silk pieces ready-made. I'll take you there.
The Marches don't buy silk. They have views on slavery.
Didn't your father's school close when he admitted a dark girl?
Mrs Finster's silk isn't from the South. It's from Linfield.
- This isn't China silk? - The silk mills use child labour.
"The poor are always with us." You're so good to remind us.
May I Tell you something?
This is an afternoon dress. I'll make you my pet.
Hortense, viens ici.
Tonight, Miss March shall have many conquests.
You have no corset!
The next dance is the polka. With me.
I would dance with you, but I fear for my new slippers.
My credo is: Don't tread on me!
Miss March . . . I thought your family were temperance people?
Don't cover up. Maybe someone hasn't seen all your charms.
And I promised Jo I'd show you off.
- The girls dressed me. I like it. - It reveals a whole new Meg.
What do you call this?
Meg . . .
I'm sorry.
Please don't Tell Jo how I've behaved.
If you won't Tell about me.
I just wanted to see how it felt to be Belle Gardiner.
- Ail those proposals and gloves. - You're worth ten of those girls.
Have you seen the way the March girl went after the Laurence heir?
This ridiculous dress! I keep tripping over it.
tle some of it around your neck, where it can do some good.
I don't like people speculating about Laurie and Meg.
Nothing provokes speculation like a woman enjoying herself.
- Why may Laurie flirt and drink? - And no one thinks less of him?
For one practical reason: Laurie is a man.
So he may vote, hold property and pursue any profession.
And so he is not so easily demeaned.
- Who cares what people think? - I do.
It's nice to be praised and admired. I couldn't help but like it.
I only care what you think of yourself.
If you feel your value lies in being decorative, I fear -
- one day you may think that's all you are. Time erodes beauty, -
- but not the wonderful workings of your mind.
Your humour, your kindness . . . and your moral courage.
These are the things I cherish in you.
I wish it was a just world. I know you'll make it a better place.
No, I don't want them. Keep the music too.
You need your books in college. Here's Dombey and Son.
Honestly, I won't need all of Dickens at Harvard.
No, you'll have more important things to read.
Nothing's going to change, Jo.
- I wish I could go. - I wish you could, too.
You'll come back knowing things I don't know, and I'll hate you !
As it happens, I already know something you don't know.
About Meg and a certain former tutor, -
- soon to be employed at Laurence and Laurence.
Has Meg mislaid a certain personal article, such as . . .
. . . a glove?
- John Brooke stole your glove! - What glove? The white one?
He's had it forever. He keeps it in his pocket!
- Don't you think he must return it? - What I think doesn't matter.
A telegram from Washington Hospital.
Your father's been wounded.
- You'll have enough for the month. - Don't worry.
- Look in on the Hummels for me. - I will.
Where's Jo?
Battling Aunt March for Marmee's ticket.
- John . . . Mr. Brooke. - I Will escort your mother.
Cook packed supper, and there's a bottle of spirits for Mr. March.
Mr. Brooke is here.
I'm no longer a tutor. Mr. Laurence has work for me in Washington.
- We couldn't let you travel alone. - How kind of you !
- We'll take the six o'clock train? - Yes, I sent Jo . . .
Finally . . . 25! Can Aunt March spare it?
I couldn't bear to ask her . . .
- I sold my hair. - Jo, your one beauty!
- It'll grow back. - It suits you.
Tell Father that we love him.
Tell him we pray for him.
I shall miss my little women !
Are you thinking about Father?
No, my hair . . .
Wait for me!
- Blast! This stove . . . - We'll eat them anyway.
There's no corn meal or coffee. We can't get credit.
- What can I bring the Hummels? - Oh, fry the Hummels!
- The boys are sick. - I mustn't Tell Marmee.
I hate money!
Your potatoes!
I don't understand. I brought a . . .
- Laurie's home! - He must need funds.
We'd get a week's food from his billiard money.
Meg, I sold "The Lost Duke of GIoucester"! Five whole dollars!
- I'm an author . . . Beth? - The Hummel baby is sick.
I feel so strange.
She's hot, but she feels cold. She's thirsty, but won't drink.
- Arsenic? Belladonna? - I saw the Hummels.
Two children are dead from scarlet fever. You and Miss Jo have had it.
But, Miss Amy . . . We must send you away.
She won't die, Will she, Laurie?
God won't let her die.
I don't want to go away.
I'll come every day, I swear. You won't be alone.
I'm afraid of Aunt March.
If she's unkind to you, I'll take come and take you away.
- Where Will we go? - Paris?
If I die of scarlet fever, give Meg my box with the green doves on it.
- Jo can have my turquoise ring. - I'll see to it.
I don't want to die. I've never even been kissed.
I've waited my whole life to be kissed. What if I miss it?
I'll Tell you what . . .
I promise to kiss you before you die.
Marmee mustn't leave Father.
- Beth needs her. - What if Father gets worse?
And how would we pay for the train?
"That he profane not my sancteraries . . ."
- Sanctuaries. - Sanctuaries.
"For I the Lord do sanctify them."
"And Moses told it unto Aaron, and to all the children of Israel."
Go on.
"And the Lord said to Moses . . ."
Jo, Mr. Laurence is here.
If we may, my personal physician Will examine the little girl.
There's nothing to be done. If I bleed her, it Will finish her.
Best to send for the mother.
I've already done so. Mrs. March arrives tonight.
Jo!
Cricket, Marmee's here.
Icy cold !
Jo, fetch a basin of vinegar, water, and some rags. Meg, my kit.
We'll draw the fever down from her head.
Beth . . .
And so our Beth came back to us, although fever weakened her heart.
We did not know that a shadow had fallen.
We prepared for another Christmas without Father.
- Try each corner. - No! One bow's enough.
- I'm so sorry! - It happens all the time.
- Here she comes. - What shall I do with the bows?
The house is beautiful.
Friends of mine from college. Freddy Vaughan, Averill Watson.
They won't bite.
- No, don't sit there, sit . . . - Here!
- Sit here, child. Merry Christmas! - Merry Christmas!
I should have given it to you long ago.
It belonged to my little girl. She left us when she was very young.
But now it Will make music again.
Thank you, Mr. Laurence.
Merry Christmas.
- Play something, Beth. - shall I?
That was good.
I fear you'll have a long engagement.
John must get a house first and do his service.
John? Marry? That pokey old Mr. Brooke?
How did he sneak into this family?
- He visits Father every day. - He's dull. Find someone amusing !
He is good, kind and serious. I'm not afraid of being poor.
You can't just let her go and marry him.
Better to be a poor man's wife than to lose one's self-respect.
- You don't mind that he's poor? - No. But I'd rather he had a house.
Why marry? Why can't things stay as they are?
It's a proposal, nothing need be decided.
Let's not spoil the day.
- Father . .? Father! - What a wonderful present!
Beth . . . Thank God you're well.
Give him room !
My wild girl !
This could become the fashion.
- Be very careful. - Don't coddle me too much.
- Hannah . . . It's good to see you. - It's good to have you home.
Let me look at my girls.
Cholera took more men than the rebs.
Agriculture isn't taught, and it should be.
- What happened with you and John? - Never you mind.