Little Women

Did you hurt yourself, Jo?

No. I never hurt myself.

Where have you been, Jo?

Skating.

It was splendid, my Beth.

Look, we've just finished trimming the tree.

Oh, Christmas won't be Christmas

without any presents.

It's dreadful to be poor.

I especially feel it

because I remember when we used to be rich.

I remember, too.

I certainly do not think it's fair

for some girls to have plenty of lovely things

and other prettier girls to have nothing at all.

We are better off than a lot of people,

orphans, for instance.

We have father and marmee and each other.

We haven't got father

and probably won't have him for a long time.

But the men in the army

are having such a terrible winter,

so I think it's right when marmee said

we shouldn't buy each other presents.

We have to make sacrifices.

I'm glad to make them.

Though I am tired of making these dresses over

year after year.

Huh! At least you're the first to wear them,

as you are the oldest.

Well! I don't think any of you suffer as I do.

You don't have to go to school

with impertinent girls

who label your father

just because he's poor.

If you mean libel, then say so,

and stop talking about labels

as if papa was a pickle bottle.

I know what I mean.

And you needn't be satirical.

It's proper to use good words

and improve one's vocabilary.

Vocabilary?

Christopher Columbus, aren't we elegant?

Don't use slang words, Jo.

And stop whistling. It's so boyish.

That's why I do it.

Oh, how I detest rude, unladylike girls.

And I hate affected, niminy-piminy chits.

Birds in their little nests agree.

Amy, you're too prim. If you don't take care,

you're going to grow up

and be an affected little goose.

And as for you, Jo,

now that you turn up your hair,

you should realize you're a young lady.

I'm not!

And if turning up my hair makes me one,

I'll wear it in 2 tails till I'm 90.

I won't grow up and be miss march.

I won't wear long gowns and look like a China aster.

Oh, I'll never get over my disappointment

of not being a boy, and look at me!

I'm dying to go and fight by father's side,

and here I am sitting and knitting

like a poky old woman.

Knitting. Bless me.

Poor Jo.

Oh, I don't want any pity

because someday I intend to be a famous writer

and make my fortune selling stories.

Then I shall live and behave as I please,

and you'll all ride around in fine carriages.

And you, my Beth, you will have a new piano.

And, Meg, you will have 10 dozen dresses and satin slippers

and red-headed boys to dance with.

I should like that.

So there's no use fretting. Let's rehearse the play.

Beth, you play something gruesome.

Amy, I wrote a new scene for you. It's wonderful.

Oh, no.

Well, it's perfectly simple.

All you have to do is shout,

"Roderigo! Roderigo, save me!" And faint.

Roderigo, Roderigo, save me.

And faint.

Oh, I can do that.

I planned my costume, too.

It's absolutely plain

with all the colors of the rainbow in it.

Impossible.

Why?

I am a Princess, am I not?

Yes, you are a Princess, but you don't know it.

You think you're a servant girl

working for Beth--uh, I mean, hagar the witch.

A Princess always knows she's a Princess.

Well, you don't.

Look, Beth has just left the stage

with her kettleful of simmering toads.

You are locked in the tower.

Suddenly and unexpectedly,

Hugo the villain enters.

You cry out in horror,

"Roderigo! Roderigo, save me!" And faint.

Then Roderigo-- Meg--enters.

Meg--roderigo?

Well, I thought Meg was Don Pedro my father.

She is, but you don't know it.

Amy, I've told you a thousand times:

Until the end of act five,

you haven't the slightest idea who you are.

Well, does Meg know?

Of course I do.

Well, then I want to know, too.

Why should I always be so igi-norant?

Simply because if you know who you are,

the play is over.

Well, it's too long anyway.

Amy, please! After all, it's my play.

And the best we've had yet.

Jo's a regular Shakespeare.

Oh, it's nothing, really.

Now...

Now...

Ready?

You ready?

I'm Hugo.

I come in,

and with wicked intentions, I say,

"aha!"

Then I come closer.

Aha!

Uh-huh.

Come and get your tea, girls.

Don't we ever have coffee anymore?

Coffee is scarce and dear.

The ships are needed in the war.

They've no time to go to Brazil

and bring back coffee for miss Amy march.

And some folks seem to have nothing better to do

than to pry into other folks' business.

Amy: Who is it, Hannah?

That Laurence boy.

What Laurence boy?

Hannah: Mr. Laurence's grandson.

Ha! I didn't know the old fusspot had a grandson.

Well, he just came last week.

But from what I can find out,

he must be a fine one.

Why? What's he done?

First he ran away from school.

That's the bravest thing I've ever heard of.

They couldn't trace him anywhere.

When they did find him,

he was in an army hospital, wounded.

He'd joined up under another name

and lied about his age.

How perfectly splendid.

I should like to do the same.

Fine soldier you'd make.

Jo, don't.

It's our private property,

and I can look out as much as I like.

You're every bit as bad as he is.

There he is.

Amy, Beth, stand back a little.

Well, I'm glad he's a boy.

Certainly would like to know a boy for a change

and have a little fun.

Don't say such things.

I wonder how I could get to know him.

I wish our cat would get lost and he'd bring it back,

then we'd get to talking...

I don't think that's very romantic.

Who said anything about romance?

Yoo-hoo!

Hello!

Hello!

Jo, you're disgracing us.

Hello!

That dreadful boy, he waved back.

I'm Hugo.

Aha!

Aha!

Amy!

You're supposed to draw back in horror.

Now cover your eyes with your hands.

Roderigo!

Roderigo!

Save me!

Save me!

Amy! Amy, watch me do it.

Roderigo!

Roderigo, save me!

Oh...

Oh...

And faint.

Oh, nothing really.

Now, here I come again, Amy,