Chapter 42
soon seventy-five umbrellas dripped sociably in the hospitable tub,
while their owners swarmed all over the lower part of the house; and
seventy-five hearty hands were shaken by the hostess without a
murmur, though some were wet, some very warm, and nearly all bore
trophies of the day's ramble. One impetuous party flourished a small
turtle as he made his compliments; another had a load of sticks cut
from noted spots; and all begged for some memento of Plumfield. A
pile of cards mysteriously appeared on the table, with a written
request for autographs; and despite her morning vow, Mrs Jo wrote
everyone, while her husband and boys did the honours of the house.
Josie fled to the back parlour, but was discovered by exploring
youths, and mortally insulted by one of them, who innocently inquired
if she was Mrs Bhaer. The reception did not last long, and the end
was better than the beginning; for the rain ceased, and a rainbow
shone beautifully over them as the good fellows stood upon the lawn
singing sweetly for a farewell. A happy omen, that bow of promise
arched over the young heads, as if Heaven smiled upon their union,
and showed them that above the muddy earth and rainy skies the
blessed sun still shone for all. Three cheers, and then away they
went, leaving a pleasant recollection of their visit to amuse the
family as they scraped the mud off the carpets with shovels and
emptied the tub half-full of water.
'Nice, honest, hard-working fellows, and I don't begrudge my
half-hour at all; but I must finish, so don't let anyone disturb me
till tea-time,' said Mrs Jo, leaving Mary to shut up the house; for
papa and the boys had gone off with the guests, and Josie had run
home to tell her mother about the fun at Aunt Jo's.
Peace reigned for an hour, then the bell rang and Mary came giggling
up to say: 'A queer kind of a lady wants to know if she can catch a
grasshopper in the garden.'
'A what?' cried Mrs Jo, dropping her pen with a blot; for of all the
odd requests ever made, this was the oddest.