Little Women

- So you're going to Washington? - Yes, ma'am.

My son is sick in a hospital there.

This will be an anxious Christmas for you.

I think this one will do. Let's try this.

- Is it your only son? - No, ma'am.

I had four, but two were killed and one is a prisoner.

You've done a great deal for your country, sir.

Not a mite more than I ought, ma'am. I'd go myself if I was any use.

Thank you for the overcoat.

Wait a minute.

I hope you find him better.

Thank you, ma'am. God bless you.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Mrs. March, will you sign this so I can get it off?

Why, what's the matter?

When I see things like that poor old man...

it makes me ashamed to think how little I do.

But, my dear, you're doing all you can here, and your husband is there.

Yes, I know.

His last son is lying ill, miles away...

waiting to say goodbye to him, forever perhaps...

while I have my four girls to comfort me.

And a real comfort they are, too, aren't they?

I couldn't bear it without them.

- Meg and Jo are working, you know? - Yes?

Meg is a nursery governess.

- Merry Christmas. - Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Remember, Lily, Santa Claus is watching you.

Come on, Tony.

"We know as well, what are the baneful fruits of selfishness...

"and self-indulgence. Bad habits take root with fearful rapidity...

"even in the richest natures.

"They grow...

"and ripen and bear their fruit...

"like southern vines and weeds...

"almost...

"in a single day and night.

"Crush them, pluck them out pitilessly from their very first appearance...

"and do not weary...

"of the labor of plucking them out...

"again and again."

Goodbye, goodbye!

Hold your tongue, you disrespectful old bird!

Go on, Josephine.

Josephine!

Where are you off to, Miss?

I didn't think you'd mind.

It was nearly time to leave and the girls said they'd be home early...

so we could rehearse my play for Christmas.

Never a thought about my Christmas.

Flying off without a word of cheer or greeting for your poor old aunt.

I'm sorry, Aunt March.

- Merry Christmas. - Merry Christmas.

Here.

It's a dollar for each. Well, take them.

Thank you, Aunty.

Never mind thanking me. Just spend it wisely, that's all I ask.

Although it's more than I can expect when you're so much like your father...

waltzing off to war and letting other folks look after his family.

There's nobody looking after us. And we don't ask favors from anybody.

I'm very proud of Father and you should be, too.

- Don't you be impertinent, Miss. - I'm sorry, Aunty.

It isn't preachers that are going to win this war. It's fighters!

Yes, Aunty.

- Can I go, now? - Yeah, go on.

- Did you clean Polly's cage today? - Yes, Aunty.

Did you wash those teacups and put them away carefully?

Yes, Aunty.

- You didn't break any? - No, Aunty.

- What about the teaspoons? - I polished them.

Yes. Very well then.

Wait, just a minute. Come back here.

Look at this. You haven't dusted properly.

I want this stair rail dusted and polished before you leave here.

Yes, Aunty.

Higher.

Thank you very much, ladies.

And now I wish you all a very merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas!

School is dismissed.

Amy March! You may close the door.

That'll teach her not to cut up didoes.

It serves that stuck-up Amy March right.

What's he going to do to her?

I can see there's nothing for me to do but to stop by and show your mother...

how instead of doing your sums, you cover your slate with sketches.

And most uncomplimentary sketches.

Please, Mr. Davis, I'll never do it again, sir.

And she'd be so disappointed in me.

Please.

Please.

Well, I should hate to spoil her Christmas...

and for that reason alone, young lady, I shall overlook it.

Thank you, Mr. Davis!

You may go.

Thank you, Mr. Davis. Thank you very much indeed.

Thank you, sir.

Here she is.

- What did he do? - What did he say?

Come on, tell us. What happened?

I just said that if I ever told my mother the way he treated me...

she'd take me out of his old school.

She's never been "reconciliated" anyway...

since my father lost his money and she's had to suffer the "degaridation"...

of me being thrown in with a lot of ill-mannered girls...

who stick their noses in refined people's business.

Little tiny pussy, I'll tell you a long story.

- Hannah, is it teatime? - Yes.

- I'll set the table. - Thank you, Beth.

It'll be a help to me 'cause my bread's raised.

The girls are getting home early.

- Are they coming? - Just passing the Laurence house.

Christopher Columbus!

Jo, don't use such dreadful expressions.

Here comes old Mr. Laurence. What if he heard you?

I don't care. I like good strong words that mean something.

Oh, bother. Now we're going to have to speak to him.

How do?

It makes my knees chatter just to look at him.

I feel sorry for that poor boy, shut up

alone with such an ogre for a grandfather.

- Look, there he is. - Where?

Don't point, Jo. He'll think you're waving at him.

He's gone anyway. Well, what if he does?

Jo! Come along, Amy.

- How's my Beth? - It's cold outside!

Jo just did the most terrible thing.

Beth, come over here.

- He waved at us. - Is tea ready yet?

Merry Christmas from Aunt March.

- For me? - Yes, darling, for you.

We got one, too.

What are you going to do with it, dear?

I don't know.

Marmee said we ought not to spend money for pleasure...

when our men are suffering so in the Army.

A dollar couldn't do the Army much good, so I'm going to buy Undine and Sintram.

I've wanted it long enough.

I'm sure Marmee would approve if I got some new gloves.

I've darned my old ones until I can hardly get them on.

She always says a real lady is known by her neat gloves and boots.

I shall get a nice box of Faber's drawing pencils. I really need them.

Then I'd like to spend mine for some new music...

that is, if you don't think Marmee would mind.

Let's each buy what we want and have a little fun.

I'm sure we work hard enough.

I know I do. It's not the work I mind so much.

It's having to tell Flo King how pretty she looks...

in things I know would look as well on me.

What would you do if you were shut up all day with an old crosspatch...

who flies off the handle every move you make?

Jo, don't use slang.

Besides, don't forget she gave us the dollar.

I'm sure neither of you suffer as I do.

You don't have to go to that nasty old Davis' school...

with impertinent girls who laugh at you and

"label" your father 'cause he isn't rich.

"Libel." Don't say "label" as if Papa were a pickle bottle.

I know what I mean and you needn't be "statirical" about it.

It's proper to use good words and improve your "vocabilary."

Aren't we elegant?

You'd never be thought so with your slang.

I hope not. I don't want to be elegant.

- You needn't whistle like a boy. - That's why I do it.

I detest rude, unladylike girls.

And I hate affected, niminy-piminy chicks.

Birds in their little nests agree.

Really, you're both to blame.

You're old enough to leave off boyish tricks and behave better, Josephine.

Now you are so tall and turn up your hair, you must remember you're a young lady.

No, I'm not. And if turning up my hair makes

me so, I'll wear it down till I'm 100.

Jo!

As for you, Amy, your absurd words are as bad as Jo's slang.

Your airs are funny now, but you'll grow into an affected goose...

unless you take care.

If Jo is a tomboy and Amy's a goose, what am I, please?

You're a dear and nothing else.

We're three ungrateful wretches who don't deserve you.

Wait until I become a famous author and make my fortune.

Then we'll all ride in fine carriages, dressed like Flo King...

snubbing Amy's friends and telling Aunt March to go to the dickens.

Let's rehearse.

We'll start with the fainting scene. You're as stiff as a poker in that, Amy.

Well, I can't help it. I've never seen anyone faint...

and I don't intend to make myself black-and-blue tumbling as flat as you do.

It's easy if you'll only watch me. Come on.

- If I can drop gracefully, I'll... - Now, when I come in...

you'll see the horrible look in my eyes and you shrink back trembling.

Go ahead.

Get into the mood, Amy.

Now, when I start toward you, with wicked intentions...

Oh, Amy, you...

draw back in horror, covering your eyes with your hands.

"Roderigo, Roderigo!

"Save me, save me!"

There, now you see? Now, it's easy.

Now, here I come.