Louisa May Alcott

An Old-Fashioned Girl Louisa May Alcott

"IT'S time to go to the station, Tom.""Come on, then.""Oh, I'm not going; it's too wet. Should n't have a crimp left if I went out such a day asthis; and I want to look nice when Polly comes.""You don't expect me to go and bring home a strange girl alone, do you?" And Tomlooked as much alarmed as if his sister had proposed to him to escort the wild woman ofAustralia."Of course I do. It's your place to go and get her; and if you was n't a bear, you'd like it.""Well, I call that mean! I supposed I'd got to go; but you said you'd go, too. Catch mebothering about your friends another time! No, sir!" And Tom rose from the sofa with an airof indignant resolution, the impressive effect of which was somewhat damaged by a tousledhead, and the hunched appearance of his garments generally."Now, don't be cross; and I'll get mamma to let you have that horrid Ned Miller, that youare so fond of, come and make you a visit after Polly's gone," said Fanny, hoping to soothehis ruffled feelings."How long is she going to stay?" demanded Tom, making his toilet by a promiscuousshake."A month or two, maybe. She's ever so nice; and I shall keep her as long as she's happy.""She won't stay long then, if I can help it," muttered Tom, who regarded girls as a veryunnecessary portion of creation. Boys of fourteen are apt to think so, and perhaps it is awise arrangement; for, being fond of turning somersaults, they have an opportunity ofindulging in a good one, metaphorically speaking, when, three or four years later, theybecome the abject slaves of "those bothering girls."