Music Welcome to snoozecast, the podcast 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 Masquerades. Tonight we'll read the next chapter of Good Wives written by Luisa May Alcott titled Joe's Journal. This is also known as the second half of the Little Women novel and is considered the 33rd chapter as part of that work as a whole. Our last episode was the chapter titled Tender Troubles and in it Beth's Behavior worries Mrs. March. After observing Beth in secret, Joe concludes that Beth must have fallen in love with Laurie. Joe also suspects that Laurie has fallen in love with herself. To put a damper on that, Joe decides to move away and work for a family friend for a while, to give herself some space. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. your body into the softness of your bed. Now, take a few deep breaths. New York November.. Dear Marmy and Beth, I'm going to write you a regular volume for I've got heaps to tell, though I'm not a fine young lady traveling on the continent. When I lost sight of Father's dear old face, I felt a trifle blue, and might have shed a briny drop or two. If an Irish lady with four small children, all crying more or less, hadn't diverted my mind. For I am used myself by dropping gingerbread nuts over the seat every time they open their mouths to roar. Soon the sun came out, and taking it as a good omen, I cleared up likewise, and enjoyed my journey with all my heart. Mrs. Kirk welcomed me so kindly I felt at home at once, even in that big house full of strangers. She gave me a funny little sky-parler, all she had, but there is a stove in it and a nice table in a sunny window, so I can sit here and right whenever I like. A fine view and a church tower opposite a tone for the many stairs and I took a fancy to my den on the spot. The nursery where I am to teach and so is a pleasant room next Mrs. Kirk's private parlor and the two little girls are pretty children. Rather spoiled, I fancy, but they took to me after telling them the seven bad pigs and I've no doubt I shall make a model governess. I am to have my meals with the children if I prefer it to the great table and for the present I do, for I am bashful, though no one will believe it. Now my dear, make yourself at home," said Mrs. Kay in her motherly way, I'm on the drive from morning to night, as you may suppose with such a family, but a great anxiety will be off my mind if I know the children are safe with you. My rooms are always open to you, and your own shall be as comfortable as I can make it. There are some pleasant people in the house if you feel

sociable, and your evenings are always free. Come to me if anything goes wrong, and be as happy as you can. There's the tea-bill I must run and change my cap. And off she bustled, leaving me to settle myself in my new nest. As I went downstairs, soon after, I saw something I liked. The flights are very long in this tall house, and as I stood waiting at the head of the third one for a little servant girl to lumber up, I saw a gentleman come along behind her. Take the heavy hod of coal out of her hand, carry it all the way up, put it down at a door nearby, and walk away. Saying, with a kind nod and a foreign accent, it goes better so. The little back is too young to have such heaviness. Wasn't it good of him? I like such things. For, as Father says, trifles show character. When I mentioned it to Mrs. K. that evening, she laughed and said, that must have been Professor Bear. He's always doing things like that. Mrs. K told me he was from Berlin. Very learned and good, but poor as a church mouse, and gives lessons to support himself and two little orphan nephews whom he is educating here, according to the wishes of his sister, who married an American. Not a very romantic story, but it interested me, and I was glad to hear that Mrs. K. Lens him her parlor for some of his scholars. There is a glass door between it and the nursery, and I mean to peep at him, and then I'll tell you how he looks. He's almost 40, so it's no harm, Marmy. After T and a go-to-bed romp with the little girls, I attacked the big work basket and had a quiet evening chatting with my new friend. I shall keep a journal letter and send it once a week. So good night and more tomorrow. Tuesday Eve a lively time in my seminary this morning for the children acted like sancho, and at one time I really thought I should shake them all around. Some good angel inspired me to try gymnastics, and I kept it up till they were glad to sit down and keep still.

After luncheon, the girl took them out for a walk, and I went to my needlework, like little mabel with a willing mind. I was thinking my stars that I'd learned to make nice buttonholes when the parlor door opened and shut. And someone began to hum. Kenz du dost lund, like a big bumblebee. It was dreadfully improper, I know, but I couldn't resist the temptation. And lifting one end of the curtain before the glass door, I peeped in. Professor Bear was there, and while he arranged his books, I took a good look at him. A regular German, rather stout, with brown hair tumbled all over his head, head, a bushy beard, good nose, the kindest eyes I ever saw, and a splendid big voice that does one's ears good after our sharp or slip-shot American gable. His clothes were rusty, his hands were large, and he hadn't a really handsome feature in his face, except his beautiful teeth. Yet, I liked him, for he had a fine head, his linen was very nice, and he looked like a gentleman, though two buttons were off his coat, and there was a patch on one shoe. He looked sober in spite of his humming till he went to the window to turn the highest-synth bulbs toward the sun and stroke the cat, who received him like an old friend. Then he smiled, and when a tap came at the door, called out, and allowed, brisk tone, Heron, I was just going to run when I caught sight of a morsel of a child carrying a big book and stopped to see what was going on. Me wants me bear," said the might, slamming down her book and running to meet him. Thou shalt hath thy bear come, then, and take a good hug from him, my Tina," said the professor, catching her up, and with a laugh, and holding her so high over his head that she had to stoop her little face to kiss him. Now Mi-Mas-Tari-Mai-Lesson went on the funny little thing so he put her up on the table. Opened the great dictionary she had brought and gave her a paper and pencil, and she scribbled away, turning a leaf now and then, and passing her little fat finger down the page, as if finding a word so soberly that I nearly betrayed myself by a laugh. While While Mr. Bear stood stroking her pretty hair with a

fatherly look that made me think she must be his own, though she looked more

French than German.

Another knock and the appearance of two young ladies sent me back to my work and

there I virtuously remained through all the noise and gabbling that went on next door. One of the girls kept laughing, effectively, and saying, no, Professor, in a cacquettish tone, and the other pronounced her German with an accent that must have made it hard for him to keep sober. Both seem to try his patience sorely. For more than once I heard him say emphatically, no, no, which is not so, you have not attend to what I say. And once there was a loud rap, as if he struck the table with his book, followed by the despairing exclamation, Prut, it all goes bad this day. Poor man, I pityed him, and when the girls were gone, took just one more peep to see if he survived it. He seemed to have thrown himself back in his chair, tired out, and sat there with his eyes shut till the clock struck two. When he jumped up, put his books in his pocket, as if ready for another lesson and taking little Tina, who had fallen asleep on the sofa in his arms, he carried her quietly away. I fancy he has a heart life of it. Mrs. Kirk asked me if I wouldn't go down to the five o'clock dinner, and feeling a little bit homesick, I thought I would, just to see what sort of people are under the same roof with me. So I made myself respectable and tried to slip in behind Mrs. Kirk. As she is short and I am tall, my efforts at concealment were rather a failure. She gave me a seat by her, and after my face cooled off, I plucked up courage, and looked about me. The long table was full, and everyone in tend on getting their dinner, the gentlemen, especially, who seemed to be eating on time for they bolted in every sense of the word, vanishing as soon as they were done. There was the usual assortment of young men absorbed in themselves. couples absorbed in each other, married ladies in their babies, and old gentlemen in politics. I don't think I shall care to have much to do with any of them, except one sweet-faced maiden lady who looks as if she had something in her. Cast away at the very bottom of the table was the professor. Shouting answers to the questions of a very inquisitive, deaf old gentlemen on one side, and talking philosophy with a Frenchman on the other. If Amy had been here, He'd have turned her back on him forever, because, sad to relate, he had a great appetite, and shoveled in his dinner in a manner which would have horrified her lady ship. I didn't mind, for I liked to see folks eat with a relish, as Hannah says, and the poor man must have needed a deal of food after teaching idiots all day. As I went upstairs after dinner, two of the young men were settling their hats before the hall mirror, and I heard one say low to the other, who's the new party? Governess or something of that sort? What the doos is she at our table for? A friend of the old ladies. Handsome head, but no style. Not a bit of it. Give us a light and come on. I felt angry at first, and then I didn't care, for a governess as good as a clerk. And I've got sense if I haven't style, which is more than some people have, judging from the remarks of the elegant beings who clattered away, smoking like bad chimneys. I hate ordinary people. Thursday. Yesterday was a quiet day, spent in teaching, sewing, and writing in my little room, which is very cozy, with a light and fire. I picked up a few bits of news and was introduced to the professor. It seems that Tina is the child of the French woman who does the fine ironing in the laundry here. The little thing has lost her heart to Mr. Bear and follows him about the house like a dog whenever he is at home, which delights him as he is very fond of children, though a bachelor. Kitty and mini-curk, likewise regard him with affection, until all sorts of stories about the plays he invents. The presence he brings and the splendid tales he tells

The young men quiz him, it seems, call him old fritz, logger beer, ursa major, and make all manner of jokes on his name. But he enjoys it like a boy, Mrs. Kay says, and takes it so naturedly that they all like him in spite of his foreign ways. The maiden lady is a Miss Norton, rich, cultivated and kind. She spoke to me at dinner today, for I went to table again, hit such fun to watch people, and asked me to come and see her at her room. She has fine books and pictures, knows interesting persons, and seems friendly, so I shall make myself agreeable, for I do want to get into good society, only it isn't the same sort that Amy likes. I was in our parlor last evening when Mr. Bear came in with some newspapers for Mrs. Kirk. She wasn't there, but Minnie, who was a little old woman, introduced me very prettily. This is Mama's friend, Ms. March. Yes, and she's Jolly, and we like her lots. Added Kitty, we both bowed, and then we laughed for the Prim Introduction and the Blunt Edition were rather a comical contrast. Ah, yes, I hear these naughty ones go to Vexu, me's march. If so, a gun. Call me and I come." He said, with a threatening frown that delighted the little wretches. I promised I would, and he departed, but it seems as if I was doomed to see a good deal of him. For day today, as I passed his door on my way out, by accident I knocked against it with my umbrella. It flew open, and there he stood in his dressing gown, with a big blue sock on one hand, and a darning needle in the other. He didn't seem at all ashamed of it. For when I explained and hurried on, he waved his hand, sock and all, saying in his loud cheerful way, you huff a fine day to make your walk. Bon voyage, Madame Wazelle. I laughed all the way downstairs, but it was a little pathetic, also, to think of the poor man having to mend his own clothes. The German gentleman embroider, I know, but Darning Hose another thing and not so pretty. Saturday Nothing has happened to write about except a call on Miss Norton, who has a room full of lovely things and who was very charming, for she showed me all her treasures and asked me if I would sometimes go with her to lectures and concerts as her escort if I enjoyed them. She put it as a favor, but I'm sure Mrs. Kirk had told her about us, and she does it out of kindness to me. I'm as proud as Lucifer, but such favors from such people don't burden me, and I accepted gratefully. When I got back to the nursery, there was such an uproar in the parlor that I looked in. And there was Mr. Bear down on his hands and knees, with Tina on his back. Kitty leading him with a jump rope, and many feeding two small boys with seed cakes, as they roared and ramped in cages built of chairs. We are playing Nardery, explained Kitty. This is Mind Evolence. Additina holding on by the professor's hair. Momo always allows us to do what we like Saturday afternoon when Franz and Amille come, doesn't she, Mr. Bear, said many. the effulont. Sat up. looking as much an earnest as any of them, and said so barely to me, I give you my word it is so. If we make too large a noise you shall say hush to us, and we go more softly. I promised to do so, but left the door open and enjoyed the fun as much as they did.

For a more glorious frolic I never witnessed.

They played tag and soldiers, dance and sung.

And when it began to grow dark, they all piled onto the sofa about the professor, while he told charming fairy stories of the storks on the chimney tops, and the little cobalts who ride the snowflakes as they fall. High-wish Americans were as simple and natural as Germans, don't you? I'm so fond of writing, I should go spinning on forever if motives of economy didn't stop me. For though I've used thin paper and written fine, I tremble to think of the stamps this long letter will need. Pray forward, Amy's as soon as you can spare them. My small news will sound very flat after her splendors, but you will like them, I know. Is Teddy studying so hard that he can't find time to write to his friends? good care of him for me, Beth, and tell me all about the babies, and give heaps of love to everyone. From your faithful Joe, PS, on reading over my letter, it strikes me as rather Barry, but I am always interested in odd people, and I really had nothing else to write about. Bless you. December. My precious Betsy. As this is to be a scribble, scrabble letter, I direct it to you for it may amuse you and give you some idea of my goings on. For though quiet, they are rather amusing for which, oh be joyful. After what Amy would call herculinium efforts in the way of mental and moral agriculture, my young ideas begin to shoot and my little twigs to bend as I could wish. They are not so interesting to me as Tina and the boys, but I do my duty by them, and they are fond of me.

Franz and Amille are jolly little lads, quite after my own heart. For the mixture of German and American spirit in them produces a constant state of effervescence. Saturday afternoons are riotous times,

whether spent in the house or out. For on pleasant days they all go for a walk, like in seminary, with the professor and myself to keep order, and then such fun. We are very good friends now, and I've begun to take lessons. I really couldn't help it and it all came about in such a draw-away that I must tell you. To begin at the beginning, Mrs. Kirk called to me one day as I passed Mr. Bear's room where she was rummaging. Did you ever see such a den, my dear? Just come and help me put these books to rights, for I've turned everything upside down, trying to discover what he has done with the six new handkerchiefs I gave him not long ago. I went in, and while we worked, I looked looked about me for it was a den to be sure. Books and papers everywhere. An old flute over the mantle piece as if done with, a ragged bird without any tail, chirped on one window seat, and a box of white mice adorned the other. Half-finished boats and bits of string lay among the manuscripts. Dirty little boots stood drying before the fire, and traces of the dearly beloved boys, for whom he makes a slave of himself, were to be seen all over the room. After a grand rummage, three of the missing articles were found. One over the birdcage, one covered with ink, and a third burnt brown, having been used as a holder. Such a man, laughed good-natured Mrs. Kay as she put the relics in the rag bag. I suppose the others are torn up to rigged ships, bandage cut fingers, or make kite tails. It's dreadful, but I can't scold him. He's so absent-minded and good-natured. He lets those boys ride over him roughshod. I agree to do his washing and mending, but he forgets to give out his things, and I forget to look them over, so he comes to a sad past sometimes.

Let me mend them said I.

I don't mind it and he didn't know I'd like to he's so kind to me about bringing my letters and lending books.

So I have got his things in order and knit heels into two pairs of the socks for they were boggled out of shape with his queer dorns. Nothing was said, and I hoped he wouldn't find out, but one day last week he caught me at it. Hearing the lessons he gives to others has entrusted and amused me so much that I took a fancy to learn. Fertina runs in and out, leaving the door open, and I can hear. I had been sitting near this door, finishing off the last sock, and trying to understand what he said to a new scholar who is as stupid as I am. The girl had gone, and I thought he had also. It was so still. And I was busily gabbling over a verb and rocking to and fro in a most absurd way when a little crow made me look up. And there was Mr. Bear looking and laughing quietly, while he made signs to Tina not to betray him. So, he said, as I stopped and stared like a goose. You peep at me, I peep at you, and that is not bad. see, I am not pleasanting when I say, half you a wish for German. Yes, but you are too busy. I am too stupid to learn. I blundered out as red as a P&A. Proat. We will make the time, and we fail not to find the sense. At Fning, I shall give you a lesson with much gladness, for look you, Miss March, a half this debt to pay. And he pointed to my work. Yes, they say to one another, these so kind ladies, he is a stupid old fellow. He will not see what we do.

He will never observe that his sock heels go not in holes anymore. He will think his buttons grow out new when they fall,

and believe that strings make their selves. Ah, but I have an eye, and I see much. I have a heart, and I feel the thanks for this. Come, a little less than then and now, or no more good fairy works for me and mine. Of course, I couldn't say anything after that, and as it really is a splendid opportunity, I made the bargain, and we began. I took four lessons, and then I stuck fast in a grammatical bog. The professor was very patient with me, but it must have been torment to him. And now and then he'd look at me with such an expression of mild despair that it was a toss-up with me, whether to laugh or cry. I tried both ways, and when it came to a sniff of utter mortification and woe, just threw the grammar onto the floor and marched out of the room. I felt myself disgraced and deserted forever, but didn't blame him a particle, and was scrambling my papers together, making to rush upstairs and shake myself hard. And in he came, as brisk and beaming, as if I'd covered myself with glory. Now we shall try a new way. You and I will read these pleasant little martian together, and dig no more in that dry book that goes in the corner for making us trouble. He spoke so kindly and opened Hans Anderson's fairy tales so invitingly before me that I was more ashamed than ever and went at my lesson in a neck or nothing style that seemed to amuse him immensely. I forgot my bashfulness and pegged away. No other word will express it with all my might, tumbling over long words, pronouncing according to the inspiration of the minute and doing my very best.

When I finished reading my first page and stopped for breath, he clapped his hands and cried out in his hearty way, Das ist gut!

Now we go well.

My turn.

I do him in German.

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