12. CHAPTER TWELVE
Beth was postmistress, for, being most at home, she could
attend to it regularly, and dearly liked the daily task of
unlocking the little door and distributing the mail. One July
day she came in with her hands full, and went about the house
leaving letters and parcels like the penny post.
"Here's your posy, Mother! Laurie never forgets that," she
said, putting the fresh nosegay in the vase that stood in `Marmee's
corner', and was kept supplied by the affectionate boy.
"Miss Meg March, one letter and a glove," continued Beth,
delivering the articles to her sister, who sat near her mother,
"Why, I left a pair over there, and here is only one," said
Meg, looking at the gray cotton glove. "Didn't you drop the
other in the garden?"
"No, I'm sure I didn't, for there was only one in the office."
"I hate to have odd gloves! Never mind, the other may be
found. My letter is only a translation of the German song I
wanted. I think Mr. Brooke did it, for this isn't Laurie's
Mrs. March glanced at Meg, who was looking very pretty in
her gingham morning gown, with the little curls blowing about her
forehead, and very womanly, as she sat sewing at her little worktable,
full of tidy white rolls, so unconscious of the thought in her
mother's mind as she sewed and sang, while her fingers flew
and her thoughts were busied with girlish fancies as innocent
and fresh as the pansies in her belt, that Mrs. March smiled and
"Two letters for Doctor Jo, a book, and a funny old hat,
which covered the whole post office and stuck outside," said
Beth, laughing as she went into the study where Jo sat writing.
"What a sly fellow Laurie is! I said I wished bigger hats
were the fashion, because I burn my face every hot day. He said,
`Why mind the fashion? Wear a big hat, and be comfortable!' I
said I would if I had one, and he has sent me this to try me. I'll
wear it for fun, and show him I don't care for the fashion." And
hanging the antique broadbrim on a bust of Plato, Jo read her