Louisa M. Alcott—
Whose Stories of Real Life Are A Delight to Girls and Boys
When Louisa Alcott peeped into her journal on the morning of her tenth birthday, she found a little note from her mother filled with loving messages. It read: “I give you the pencil-case I promised, for I have observed that you are fond of writing, and wish to encourage the habit.” Louisa’s mother often wrote little messages in her daughter’s journal, urging her to keep on trying to be good. Very often the notes encouraged Louisa to go on writing. On both her fourteenth and fifteenth birthdays her mother’s gift was a pen, with a poem and a loving letter.
As Louisa, at eight years of age, had written a little verse about a robin, Mrs. Alcott hoped that her daughter would some day be a great writer. It was a hope that was realized, for Louisa M. Alcott’s books have become famous, delighting each succeeding generation.
Little Women, her first great success, is the story of the Alcott family. It tells of their jolly times and their hard times at the Orchard House at Concord, Massachusetts. The lively outspoken “Jo” of the story, writing in the attic, is Louisa herself; the other “March” girls are her own dear sisters, Anna, Elizabeth, and Abba May. “Marmee,” of course, is the beloved mother, and Mr. March, the father.
Louisa May Alcott was born at Germantown, Pennsylvania, November 29, 1832, but most of her girlhood was spent in Boston and Concord, Massachusetts. It was a happy life that she led even though the food was plain and her clothes were generally “made over.” There was never enough money to go around in the Alcott family, but there was no lack of love, kindness, good conversation, and good reading.
Louisa and her sisters received their education chiefly from their father, a man of rare intellect. Mr. Alcott was devoted to his children and he took great pleasure in teaching them. In addition to these daily lessons there often were long, hard tasks of sewing and ironing, but there was plenty of time for play, too.
What fun they had! In the old barn at Concord with their playmates, the children of Ralph Waldo Emerson and of Nathaniel Hawthorne, they acted out their favorite fairy tales and also The Pilgrim’s Progress. Their giant tumbled off the loft when Jack cut down the bean stalk, and there was a real pumpkin for Cinderella’s coach.