Partners

Get ready.

Shh. Shh!

- Got them. - Jo, those are the kitchen scissors.

- They're good and sharp. - Please don't make me be the first.

No... Amy's first.

If I must make this sacrament, I do it gladly.

But don't you dare take more than a half inch.

Do you have any letters for the post, Pastor March?

- This will go on the mail train tonight? - Yes, sir. - Bless you, son.

Cold.

Merry Christmas, Father. With our fondest love, Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy.

Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents.

Jo, get up off the rug.

That party dress is in a bad enough state as it is.

We agreed not to have any presents this year. We said we didn't mind

as long as we had Marmee and Father and each other.

Beth, we haven't got Father

and we shan't have him for ever such a long time.

- Not until the war ends. - Meg! I found Jo's gloves.

They're all creased and sticky.

I used them to mop up some lemonade I spilled at Sally's birthday dance.

Jo, why didn't you clean them?

You can't go to a party without any gloves.

I was hoping I wouldn't be invited to another one.

I should have gone away with Father in disguise,

signed up as a drummer boy and done my duty as he has.

Jo, I don't think that's allowed or even possible.

Besides, I can't think of anything more disagreeable.

Why would you want to sleep in a tent

and drink out of a tin mug and eat all sorts of... bad-tasting food?

Because, Amy, she forgets that she's a young lady

and that I am trying to mend her dress.

I can't help that I like boy's clothes and work and manners.

Being born a girl is the most disappointing thing

that ever happened to me.

I do believe that was busiest day the depot ever had.

We had to get 200 boxes of soldiers' comforts onto the five o'clock train

and we lacked mittens for some of them.

We'll have to sit and knit more like pokey old women.

Jo, be careful.

- You look tired to death. - Aunt March kept me on my toes today.

Most people mellow out at Christmas but not her.

Do I get a kiss as well as warm slippers, Amy?

You're all such a treat to come home to.

And I have a treat for you, too.

- A letter? - Is it from Father?

Yes, it is.

You're late, Theodore.

I'm sorry, Grandfather.

How was your voyage?

Did you stay on deck and keep your eyes on the horizon as I advised?

Mostly.

Mostly worked.

I presume you brought your principal's reports for me to read.

"A year is a long time to wait before we meet again.

"But these hard days will not be wasted if we all work hard.

"Give them all my dear love and a kiss,

"tell them I think of them by day and pray for them each evening.

"Our country may be torn in two

"because it can't agree on what is right,

"but even in this time of darkness,

"when armies clash and blood is shed,

"we can shine a light through our kindness to each other.

"And there are smaller battles we can win,

"within our hearts and close to home.

"I know my daughters will fight their bosom enemies bravely

"and conquer themselves so beautifully

"that when I come back to them, I may be fonder and prouder than ever

"of my little women."

Merry Christmas, Jo.

Hannah, do you know where our mother is? She isn't in her room.

She wouldn't be, because we had some shoeless little lad come

wheeling and hammering on the door saying his mother was starving

and sickly and like to die and all her children like to die with her.

- Kindly get your fingers out the syrup. - Sorry. - Sorry.

So, your mother went running off after him to see what she could do.

And she took a great pile of firing from next to my stove.

As long as we've enough to cook the bacon.

Merry Christmas, Hannah!

If you don't unleash me, you young rapscallions,

there will be no pancakes!

Girls.

I've just come from the most deprived and wretched home

I have ever seen.

There was a mother with a newborn

and five other little ones huddled under rags for warmth.

I took firewood but... it was not enough.

Cream! We never have cream.

I'm carrying the bacon.

The smell torments me like the legions of the damned!

Hurry, Beth, dear. Don't let those sugar rolls get cold!

Come on, Jo!

Oh, my stars! Miss, I'm so sorry.

I could have... broken your... coffee service.

I'm quite likely to break it myself before I'm through.

Or lose my self-control and just drink all the coffee.

We're giving our Christmas breakfast away

to a poor German family we've never even met.

- Was that your idea? - No. Our mother's.

The soccer ball wasn't mine. It was my grandfather's.

He thinks it's the kind of thing a boy my age might like.

Mr Laurence is YOUR grandfather?

Until last night I hadn't seen him for ten years.

But I'll be living with him now -- at least until I go to college.

- That's nice. - Hurry up!

I should go back. Grandfather's watching through the window,

so I have to make out like I'm having fun.

- Happy Christmas present-giving! - Oh, yes.

Jo, dear, there you are.

Ah, a hot drink first for Mrs Hummel.

Give the tray to Meg.

Beth and Amy,

could you start spooning out some oatmeal for the little ones?

Jo, see if you can stop that broken window.

What with?

Ah... Hannah's hat will do.

If you'd be so kind.

I didn't even know that people lived like that.

But they do.

Come downstairs.

There's something you'll enjoy.

- Did you do this? - No.

There's pink ice cream and white ice cream. And jelly!

You never saw anything so elegant!

Old Mr Laurence from next door sent it.

It's a reward, because he heard about us giving our breakfast away.

That boy just lost his mother. We must make him welcome.

It's burning. It's burning, Jo! You're burning my hair!

Are the tongs supposed to smoke like that?

Of course they are! It's just the dampness drying.

Something's scorching, Jo.

Even I can smell it and I've got quite a flat nose.

Nonsense! When I take these papers out, you're all going see

a cloud of little ringlets!

Oh, Meg... Oh, no. I'm so sorry!

I'm so sorry! So...

What have you done? Jo! What have you done?!

I did what you asked me to do, I curled your hair!

Why did you even ask me? You know I always ruin everything!

- Oh, that's not true, Jo! - It's true tonight!

How can I go to the party without any hair?

You still have plenty at the back that's really smooth and pretty.

And it's not as though you're Jo, whose hair is her one beauty.

Not that piano.

There was... I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know.

Look, if you must play, there's a concert grand in the drawing room.

Yes, sir.

Nobody plays that piano any more. I don't permit it!

Does it really look all right, Jo?

It looks almost like you've invented a new fashion.

Would you like to swap a glove with me?

Mine are still all creased and sticky.

- I could not get that lemonade out. - I meant swap just one,

so we can each wear a smart glove and carry one that's spoiled.

Will it make you happy?

Yes, it will.

Meg, if I do anything really wrong, will you wink at me?

I will do no such thing! I shall raise my eyebrows.

That's much more ladylike.

- What? - Smile.

You can't spend the whole evening in the retiring room, Jo.

Don't you have any dances?

No. Can't say I do.

Ned Moffat has engaged me for supper!

I can scarcely wait to sit down, my shoes are pinching so!

Oh. Please come back to the party.

People will think we're being impolite.

Susie Perkins has three drawing lessons a week.

She says there's no substitute whatever for drawing from life.

Can we see it yet?

You look as sooty and black

as if you've just crawled out of a coal bin.

No-one can say I don't have accomplished daughters!

Did you know that Jo's writing a novel?

I've seen the pages all piled up on her desk in the garret.

Let Jo write in peace.

Hello, again. Don't you care for the party either?

Oh, um, it's lovely. It's just I don't know many people.

Me neither. And I have a headache.

- Me too. - I think I might have the grippe coming on.

I just have 19 hairpins stuck in my head.

I let my little sister loose on my coiffure.

Is that the little dark one or the little fair one?

The fair one. Do you know us all by sight?

We're neighbours. We ought to know each other's names.

And when you sent the thank you letter for the supper,

it just said "Margaret, Josephine, Elizabeth and Amy March."

So I still don't know which one of you is which!

Well, I'm Josephine, but everybody calls me Jo, apart from one

ancient aunt whom I have to wait on and who's usually vexed with me.

I'm called Theodore, and I hate it.

The boys at school in Switzerland used to call me Dora.

They changed to Laurie in the end. I made them.

Did you learn a lot of French out there?

~

Oh, ah. "I came here with my tutor.

"But he is in the smoking room with all the other men,

- "talking about the war." - You have a tutor?

Grandfather insisted.

He wants me to go to Harvard, but my grades aren't what they need to be.