Oh, Jo, How Could You?

Mrs. Jo Did Not Mean The Measles, But That More Serious Malady Called Love, Which Is Apt To Ravage Communities, Spring And Autumn, When Winter Gayety And Summer Idleness Produce Whole Bouquets Of Engagements, And Set Young People To Pairing Off Like The Birds.

Where's The Use Of Looking Nice, When No One Sees Me But Those Cross Midgets, And No One Cares Whether I'm Pretty Or Not?

Laurie, You're An Angel! How Shall I Ever Thank You?" "fly At Me Again. I Rather Liked It," Said Laurie, Looking Mischievous, A Thing He Had Not Done For A Fortnight.

If Life Is Often So Hard As This, I Don't See How We Ever Shall Get Through It.

I Asked For Bread, And I Got A Stone In The Shape Of A Pedestal.