Crinkle, crinkle, 'ittle 'tar,

and it had become a household custom, for the mother was a born
singer. The first sound in the morning was her voice as she went
about the house singing like a lark, and the last sound at night
was the same cheery sound, for the girls never grew too old for
that familiar lullaby.



CHAPTER TWO

A MERRY CHRISTMAS

Jo was the first to wake in the gray dawn of Christmas morning.
No stockings hung at the fireplace, and for a moment she
felt as much disappointed as she did long ago, when her little
sock fell down because it was crammed so full of goodies. Then
she remembered her mother's promise and, slipping her hand under
her pillow, drew out a little crimson-covered book. She knew
it very well, for it was that beautiful old story of the best
life ever lived, and Jo felt that it was a true guidebook for
any pilgrim going on a long journey. She woke Meg with a "Merry
Christmas," and bade her see what was under her pillow. A green-
covered book appeared, with the same picture inside, and a few
words written by their mother, which made their one present very
precious in their eyes. Presently Beth and Amy woke to rummage
and find their little books also, one dove-colored, the other
blue, and all sat looking at and talking about them, while the