Music Welcome to snoozecast. The podcast is designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com. And if you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. This episode is brought to you by Loving Hands. Tonight, we'll read the first chapter to Good Wives written by Luisa May Alcott. This is also known as the second half of the Little Women novel. Originally, Alcott had it published as a second book, but in later publishing, the two were combined. This book picks up three years later, as Meg is preparing for her wedding. As always, snooze cast episodes on Fridays are on a rotation of four current books. When one finishes, we will replace it with something new. This way you can be assured that any series on Fridays will always come out at least once a month. detail about SNOOSEuescast is that we have many different series available separately from our primary Snuescast show. If we are still adding new episodes to a series, it is fully available for anyone to listen to. Once a series is completed, it will eventually be made only fully available to our snooze cast plus listeners. To find a list of current series available for free and which ones are only available to our premium subscribers, go to snoozecast.com slash Plus. Because Goodwives is a continuation of Little Women, we have decided to make the snoozecast presents Little Women's Stand-alone series available to the public again as well, so that you can refresh your memory or start from the very beginning, if you like.

Let's get cozy.

Close your eyes.

Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now take a few deep breaths. 2. In order that we may start a fresh and go to Meg's wedding. Gossip. In order that we may start a fresh and go to Meg's wedding with free minds, it will be well to begin with a little gossip about the marches. And here, let me premise that if any of the elders think there is too much lovering in the story, as I fear they may, I'm not afraid the young folks will make that objection. I can only say with Mrs. March, what can you expect when I have four gay girls in the house and a dashing young neighbor over the way? The three years that have passed have brought but few changes to the quiet family. The war is over and Mr. March safely at home.

Busy with his books and the small parish which found in him a minister by nature as by grace. A quiet, studious man rich in the wisdom that is better than learning. The charity which calls all mankind brother, the piety that blossoms into character, making it august and lovely. These attributes, in spite of poverty and the strict integrity which shut him out from the more worldly successes, attracted to him many admirable persons, as naturally as sweet herbs draw bees. as naturally he gave them the honey into which fifty years of hard experience had distilled no bitter drop. Ernest Young Men found the gray headed scholar as young at heart as they. Thoughtful or troubled women instinctively brought their doubts to him, sure of finding the gentlest sympathy, the wisest counsel. Sinners told their sins to the pure hearted, old man, and were both rebuked and saved. Gifted men found a companion in him. Ambitious men caught glimpses of nobler ambitions than their own. And even worldlings confess that his beliefs were beautiful and true, although they wouldn't pay. To outsiders, the five energetic women seem to rule the house, and so they did in many things. But the quiet scholar, sitting among his books, was still the head of the family, the household conscience, anchor, and comforter. For to him the busy, anxious women always turned in treblous times, finding him in the truest sense of those sacred words, husband and father. The girls gave their hearts into their mothers keeping, their souls into their fathers, and to both parents who lived and labored so faithfully for them, they gave a love that grew with their growth and bound them tenderly together by the sweetest tie which blesses life and outlive's death. Mrs. March is as brisk and cheery, though rather greyer than when we last saw her, and just now so absorbed in mechs of fares that the hospitals and homes still full of wounded boys and soldiers' widows decidedly miss the motherly missionaries' visits. John Brook did his duty manfully for a year. Got wounded, was sent home, and was not allowed to return. He received no stars or bars, but he deserved them, for he cheerfully risked all he had, and life and love are very precious when both are in full bloom. Perfectly resigned to his discharge, he devoted himself to getting well, preparing for business, and earning a home for Meg. With the good sense and sturdy independence that characterized him, he refused Mr. Lawrence's more generous offers, and accepted the place of bookkeeper, feeling better satisfied to begin with an honestly earned salary than by running any risks with borrowed money. Meg had spent the time in working as well as waiting, growing womanly in character, wise and house-wifely arts, and prettier than ever, for love is a great beautifier. She had her girlish ambitions and hopes, and felt some disappointment at the humble way in which the new life must begin. Ned Malfid had just married Sally Gardiner, and Meg couldn't help contrasting their fine house and carriage, many gifts, and splendid outfit with her own, and secretly wishing she could have the same. But somehow envy and discontent soon vanished when she thought of all the patient love and labor John had put into the little home awaiting her. And when they sat together in the twilight, talking over their small plans. The future always grew so beautiful and bright that she forgot Sally's splendor and felt herself the richest, happiest girl in Christendom. Joe never went back to Aunt March For the old lady took such a fancy to Amy that she bribed her with the offer of drawing lessons from one of the best teachers going. And for the sake of this advantage, Amy would have served a far harder mistress. So she gave her mornings to duty, her afternoons to pleasure, and prospered finally. Joe, meantime, devoted herself to literature and Beth, who remained delicate long after the fever, a thing of the past. Not an invalid exactly, but never again the rosy, healthy creature she had been. Yet always hopeful, happy, and serene, and busy with the quiet duty she loved. one's friend and an angel in the house long before those who loved her most had learned to know it. As long as the spread eagle paid her a dollar a column for her rubbish, as she called it, Joe felt herself a woman of means and spun her little romances diligently. But great plans fermented in her busy brain and ambitious mind and the old tin kitchen in the garret held a slowly increasing pile of blotted manuscript, which was one day to place the name of March upon the role of fame. Laurie, having dutifully gone to college to please his grandfather, was now getting through it in the easiest possible manner to please himself. A universal favorite, thanks to money, manners, much talent, and the kindest heart that ever got its owner into scrapes by trying to get other people out of them. He stood in great danger of being spoiled, and probably would have been, like many another promising boy, if he had not possessed a talisman against evil in the memory of the kind old man who was bound up in his success. The motherly friend who watched over him as if he were her son. And last but not least by any means, the knowledge that four innocent girls loved and and believed in him with all their hearts. Being only a glorious human boy, of course he froliced and flirted, grew dandified, aquatic, sentimental or gymnastic, as college fashions ordained, hazed and was hazed, talk slang, and more than once came perilously near suspension and expulsion. But as high spirits and the love of fun were the causes of these pranks, he always managed to save himself by frank confession, honorable atonement, or the irresistible power of persuasion which he possessed in perfection. In fact, he rather prided himself on his narrow escapes.

And like to th- perfection. In fact, he rather prided himself on his narrow escapes, and liked to thrill the

girls with graphic accounts of his triumphs over wrathful tutors, dignified professors, and vanquished enemies.

The men of my class were heroes in the eyes of the girls who never were eat of the exploits of our fellows and were frequently allowed to bask in the smiles of these great creatures when Laurie brought them home with him. Amy especially enjoyed this high honor and became quite a bell among them for her lady ship early felt and learned to use the gift of fascination with which she was endowed. Meg was too much absorbed in her private and particular john to care for any other lords of creation, and Beth too shy to do more than peep at them and wonder how Amy dared to order them about so. But Joe felt quite in her own element and found it very difficult to refrain from imitating the gentlemanly attitudes, phrases, and feats, which seemed more natural to her than the decorum prescribed for young ladies. They all liked Joe immensely, but never fell in love with her, though very few escaped without paying the tribute of a sentimental sigh or two at Amy Shrine. And speaking of sentiment, brings us very naturally to the dovecoat. That was the name of the little brown house Mr. Brooke had prepared for Meg's first home. Laurie had christened it, saying it was highly appropriate to the gentle lovers who went on together like a pair of turtle doves, with first a bill and then a coup. It was a tiny house, with a little garden behind and a lawn about as big as a pocket hanker chief in the front. Here, Meg meant to have a fountain, shrubbery, and a profusion of lovely flowers. Though just at present, the fountain was represented by a weather-beaten urn. Very like a dilapidated slot bowl. The shrubbery consisted of several young lurches, undecided whether to live or die, and the profusion of flowers was merely hinted by regiments of sticks to show where seeds were planted. But inside, it was all together charming, and the happy brides saw no fault from Garrett to Seller. To be sure, the hull was so narrow, it was fortunate that they had no piano. For one, never could have been got in hole. The dining room was so small that six people were a tight fit. And the kitchen stairs seemed built for the express purpose of precipitating both servants and China, Pell Mel into the coal bin. But once get used to these slight blemishes and nothing could be more complete, For good sense and good taste had presided over the furnishing, and the results was highly satisfactory. There were no marble top tables, long mirrors, or lace curtains in the little parlor, but simple furniture, plenty of books, a fine picture or two, a stand of flowers in the bay window, and scattered all about the pretty gifts which came from friendly hands and were the fairer for the loving messages they brought. I don't think the Perian psyche Laurie gave lost any of its beauty because John put up the bracket it stood upon. That any upholsterer could have draped the plain Muslim curtains more gracefully than Amy's artistic hand, or that any storeroom was ever better provided with good wishes, merry words, and happy hopes than that in which Joe and her mother put away Meg's few boxes, barrels, and bundles. And I am morally certain that the spandy new kitchen could never have looked so cozy and neat if Hannah had not arranged every pot and pan a dozen times over, and laid the fire already for lighting the minute Miss Brooke came home. I also doubt if any young matron ever began life with so rich a supply of dusters, holders and peace bags. For Beth made enough to last till the silver wedding came round and invented three different kinds of dishcloths for the express service of the bridal China. People who hire all these things done for them never know what they lose. For the homeless tasks get beautified if loving hands do them. And Meg found so many proofs of this that everything in her small nest, from the kitchen roller to the silver vase on her parlor table, was eloquent of home love and tender forethought. What happy times they had planning together? What solemn shopping excursions? What funny mistakes they made? And what shouts of laughter arose over Laurie's ridiculous bargains? In his love of jokes, this young gentleman, though nearly through college, was a much of a boy as ever. His last whim had been to bring with him on his weekly visits some new, useful, and ingenious article for the young health keeper. Now a bag of remarkable clothes pins.

Next, a wonderful nutmeg grater, which fell to pieces at the first trial. A knife cleaner that spoiled all the knives. Or a sweeper that picked the nap neatly off the carpet and left the dirt. Labor saving soap that took the skin off one's hands.

Infallop neatly off the carpet and left the dirt. Labor saving soap that took the skin off one's hands, infallible cements, which stuck firmly to nothing but the fingers of the diluted buyer, and every kind of tinware from a toy savings bank for odd pennies to a wonderful boiler which would wash articles in its own steam with every prospect of exploding in the process. In vain, Meg begged him to stop. John laughed at him and Joe called him Mr. Tutels. He was possessed with a mania for patronizing Yankee ingenuity and seeing his friends fitly furnished forth. So each week beheld some fresh absurdity. was done at last, even to Amy's arranging different colored soaps to match the different colored rooms and Beth's setting the table for the first meal. Are you satisfied? Does it seem like home and do you feel as if you should be happy here? Ask Mrs. March.

As she... Are you satisfied? Does it seem like home? And do you feel as if you should be happy here?

As Mrs. March, as she and her daughter

went through the new kingdom, arm in arm.

For just then, they seemed to cling together

more tenderly than ever.

Yes, mother, perfectly satisfied.

Thanks to you all. And so happy that I can't talk about it, with a look that was far better than words. If she only had a servant or two, it would be all right," said Amy, coming out of the parlor, where she had been trying to decide whether the bronze mercury looked best on the what-not or the mantelpiece. Mother and I have talked that over, and I have made up my mind to try her way first. There will be so little to do that with the laudie to run my errands and help me here and there, I shall only have enough work to keep me from getting lazy or homesick, answered bag, tranquilly. Sally Moffitt has four began Amy. If Meg has four, the house wouldn't hold them, and Master and Mrs. would have to camp in the garden. Broken Joe, who, enveloped in a big blue pinnifor, was giving the last polish to the door handles. Sally isn't a poor man's wife, and many

maids are in keeping with her fine establishment. Meg and John begin humbly, but I have a feeling

that there will be quite as much happiness in the little house as in the big one. It's a great

mistake for young girls like Meg to leave themselves nothing to do but dress, give orders, and gossip. When I was first married, I used to long for my new clothes to wear out or get torn so that I might have the pleasure of mending them, for I got heartily sick of doing fancy work and tending my pocket anchor chief. Why didn't you go into the kitchen and make messes as Sally says she does to amuse herself though they never turn out well and the servants laugh at her, said Meg. I did after a while, not to mess, but to learn of Hannah how things should be done that my servants need not laugh at me. It was play then, but there came a time when I was truly grateful that I not only possess the will but the power to cook wholesome food for my little girls and help myself when I could no longer afford to hire help. You begin at the other end, Meg, dear, but the lessons you learn now will be of use to you by and by when John is a richer man. For the mistress of a house, however splendid, should know how work ought to be done if she wishes to be well and honestly served. Yes, mother, I'm sure of that," said Meg, listening respectfully to the little lecture, for the best of women will hold forth upon the all-absorbing subject of housekeeping. Do you know I like this room most of all in my baby house? Add it, Meg, a minute after, as they went upstairs and she looked into her well-stored linen closet. Beth was there, laying the snowy piles smoothly on the shelves and exulting over the goodly array. All three laughed as Meg spoke. For that linen closet was a joke. You see, having said that if Meg married that brook, she shouldn't have a cent of her money, Aunt March was rather in a quandary when time had appeased her wrath and made her repent her vow. She never broke her word and was much exercised in her mind how to get around it, and at last devised a plan whereby she could satisfy herself. Mrs. Carol, Florence's mama, was ordered to buy, have made, and marked a generous supply of house and table linen, and send it as her present, all of which was faithfully done, but the secret leaked out and was greatly enjoyed by the family. For Aunt March tried to look utterly unconscious, and insisted that she could give nothing but the-fashioned pearls long promise to the first bride. That's a house-wifely taste which I am glad to see. I had a young friend who set up housekeeping with six sheets, but she had finger bowls for company, and that satisfied her. said Mrs. March, patting the tablecloths with a truly feminine appreciation of their fineness. I haven't a single finger bowl, but this is a set-out that will last me all my days. And Meg looked quite contented as well she might. A tall, broad-shouldered young fellow with a cropped head, a felt basin of a hat, and a flyaway coat, came tramping down the road at a great pace, walked over the low fence without stopping to open the gate, straight up to Mrs. March, with both hands out and a hearty. Here I am, mother. Yes, it's all right. The last words were in answer to the look that Elder Lady gave him, a kindly questioning look,

which the handsome eyes met so frankly that the little ceremony closed as usual with a motherly kiss. For Mrs. John Brook, with the makers, congratulations and compliments, bless you, Beth.

What a refreshing spectacle you are, Joe. Amy, you are all together getting to handsome for a single lady. As Lori spoke, he delivered a brown paper parcel to Meg, pulled Beth's hair ribbon, stared at Joe's big pinnacle, and fell into an attitude of mock rapture before Amy, then shook hands all round, and everyone began to talk. Where's John? Ask Meg anxiously.

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