Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,
Your go-to podcast that offers you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now,
And nowhere you need to go.
Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away.
This is your time and your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
There is nothing you need to be doing now,
And nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
Chapter Eight Jo meets Apollyon.
Girls,
Where are you going?
Asked Amy,
Coming into their room one Saturday afternoon and finding them getting ready to go out,
With an air of secrecy which excited her curiosity.
Never mind,
Little girls shouldn't ask questions,
Returned Jo sharply.
Now if there is anything mortifying to our feelings when we are young,
It's to be told that,
And to be bidden to run away,
Dear,
Is still more trying.
Amy bridled up at this insult,
And turning to Meg,
Who never refused her anything very long,
She said coaxingly,
Don't tell me.
I should think you might let me go too.
Beth is fussing over her piano and I haven't got anything to do and I'm so lonely.
I can't,
Dear,
Because you aren't invited,
Began Meg,
But Jo broke in impatiently.
Now Meg,
Be quiet or you'll spoil it all.
You can't go,
Amy,
So don't be a baby and whine about it.
But you're going somewhere with Laurie,
I know you are.
You were whispering and laughing together on the sofa last night,
And you stopped when I came in.
Aren't you going with him?
Yes,
We are.
Now do be still and stop bothering.
Amy held her tongue but used her eyes and saw Meg slip a fan into her pocket.
I know,
I know,
You're going to the hall to see the seven castles,
She cried.
I shall go.
Mother says I might see it,
And I've got my rag money,
And it was me not to tell me in time.
Just listen to me a minute and be a good child,
Said Meg soothingly.
Mother doesn't wish you to go this week because your eyes are not well enough yet to bear the light of this fairy peace.
Next week you can go with Beth and Hannah and have a nice time.
I don't like that half as much as going with you and Laurie.
Please let me.
I've been sick with this cold so long,
And shut up,
I'm dying for some fun,
Do Meg,
I'll be ever so good,
Pleaded Amy,
Looking as pathetic as she could.
Suppose we take her?
I don't believe,
Mother of mine,
If we bundle her up well,
Began Meg.
If she goes,
I shan't,
And if I don't,
Laurie won't like it,
And it'll be very rude after he invited only us to go and drag in Amy.
I should think she'd hate to poke herself where she isn't wanted,
Said Jo crossly,
For she disliked the trouble of overseeing a fidgety child when she wanted to enjoy herself.
Her tone and manner angered Amy,
Who began to put her boots on,
Saying,
In her most aggravating way,
I shall go,
Meg says I may,
And if I pay for myself,
Laurie hasn't anything to do with it.
You can't sit with us,
For our seats are reserved,
And you mustn't sit alone,
Said Jo,
So Laurie will give you his place,
And that'll spoil our pleasure,
Or he'll get another seat for you,
And that isn't proper when you weren't asked.
You shan't stir a step,
So you may as well just stay where you are.
She was crosser than ever now,
Having just pricked her finger in a hurry.
Amy,
Sitting on the floor with one boot on,
Began to cry,
And Meg,
To reason with her,
Went up,
Called Laurie from below,
And the two girls hurried down,
Leaving their sister wailing.
For now and then,
Amy forgot her grown-up ways and acted like a spoilt child.
You'll be sorry for this,
Jo March,
If you ain't,
She cried.
Fiddled sticks,
Returned Jo,
Slamming the door behind her.
They had a charming time.
The Seven Castles of the Diamond Lake was as brilliant and wonderful as heart could wish,
But in spite of the comical red imps,
Sparkling elves,
And gorgeous princes and princesses,
Jo's pleasure had a drop of bitterness in it.
The Fairy Queen's yellow curls reminded her of Amy,
And between the act,
She amused herself with wondering what her sister would do to make her sorry for it.
She and Amy had had many lively skirmishes in the course of their lives.
Both had quick tempers and were apt to be violent when fairly roused.
Amy teased Jo,
Jo irritated Amy,
And semi-occasional explosions occurred,
Of which both were much ashamed afterwards.
Although the oldest,
Jo had the least self-control,
And had hard times trying to curb the fiery spirit which was continually getting her into trouble.
Her anger never lasted long,
And having humbly confessed her fault,
She sincerely repented and tried to do better.
Her sisters used to say they rather liked to get Jo into a fury because she was such an angel afterwards.
Poor Jo tried desperately to be good,
But her bosom enemy was always ready to flare up and defeat her,
And it took years of patient effort to subdue it.
When they got home,
They found Amy reading in the parlour.
She assumed an injured air as they came in,
Never lifted her eyes from her book or asked a single question.
Perhaps curiosity might have conquered resentment if Beth had not been there to enquire and receive a glowing description of the play.
On going up to put away her best hat,
Jo's first look was towards the bureau,
For in their last quarrel,
Amy had soothed her feelings by turning Jo's top drawer upside down on the floor.
Everything was in its place however,
And after a hasty glance into her various closets,
Bags and boxes,
Jo decided Amy had forgiven and forgotten her wrongs.
There she was mistaken,
For next day she made a discovery which produced a tempest.
Meg,
Beth and Amy were sitting together late in the afternoon when Jo burst into the room looking excited and demanding breathlessly,
Has anyone taken my book?
Meg and Beth said no at once and looked surprised.
Amy poked the fire and said nothing.
Jo saw her colour rise and was down upon her in a minute.
Amy,
You've got it!
No,
I haven't.
You know where it is then?
No,
I don't.
That's a fib,
Cried Jo,
Taking her by the shoulders and looking fierce enough to frighten a much braver child than Amy.
It isn't,
I haven't got it and I don't know where it is now and I don't care.
You know something about it and you better tell at once or I'll make you.
Jo gave her a slight shake.
Scold as much as you like,
You'll never see your silly old book again,
Cried Amy getting excited in her turn.
Why not?
I burnt it up.
What?
My little book I was so fond of and worked over and meant to finish before father got home.
Have you really burnt it,
Said Jo turning very pale while her eyes kindled and her hands clutched Amy nervously?
Yes,
I did and I told you I'd make you pay for being so crushed yesterday and I have so.
Amy got no further,
For Jo's hot temper mastered her and she shook Amy till her teeth chattered in her head,
Crying in a passion of grief and anger.
You wicked,
Wicked girl!
I never can write again and I'll never forgive you as long as I live.
Meg flew to rescue Amy and Beth to pacify Jo,
But Jo was quite beside herself and with a parting box on her sister's ear she rushed out of the room up to the old sofa in the garret and finished her fight alone.
The storm cleared up below for Mrs March came home and having heard the story soon brought Amy to a sense of the wrong she had done her sister.
Jo's book was the pride of her heart and was regarded by her family as a literary sprout of great promise.
It was only half a dozen little fairy tales,
But Jo had worked over them patiently,
Putting her whole heart into her work,
Hoping to make something good enough to print.
She had copied them with great care and had destroyed the old manuscript so that Amy's bonfire had consumed the loving work of several years.
It seemed a small loss to others,
But to Jo it was a dreadful calamity and she felt it could never be made up.
Beth mourned as for a departed kitten and Meg refused to defend her pet.
Mrs March looked grieved and grieved and Amy felt that no one would love her till she had asked pardon for the act which she now regretted more than any of them.
When the tea bell rang Jo appeared looking so grim and unapproachable that it took all Amy's courage to say meekly,
Please forgive me,
Jo.
I'm very,
Very sorry.
I shall never forgive you,
Was Jo's stern answer and from that moment she ignored Amy entirely.
