Another bang of the street door sent the basket under the sofa,
and the girls to the table, eager for breakfast.

"Merry Christmas, Marmee! Many of them! Thank you for our
books. We read some, and mean to every day," they all cried in
chorus.

"Merry Christmas, little daughters! I'm glad you began at
once, and hope you will keep on. But I want to say one word
before we sit down. Not far away from here lies a poor woman
with a little newborn baby. Six children are huddled into one bed
to keep from freezing, for they have no fire. There is nothing to
eat over there, and the oldest boy came to tell me they were
suffering hunger and cold. My girls, will you give them your
breakfast as a Christmas present?"

They were all unusually hungry, having waited nearly an hour,
and for a minute no one spoke, only a minute, for Jo exclaimed
impetuously, "I'm so glad you came before we began!"

"May I go and help carry the things to the poor little children?"
asked Beth eagerly.

"I shall take the cream and the muffings," added Amy, heroically
giving up the article she most liked.

Meg was already covering the buckwheats, and piling the bread
into one big plate.