“I see. It’s nice to have accomplishments and be elegant, but not to show off or get perked up,” said Amy thoughtfully.
“These things are always seen and felt in a person’s manner and conversations, if modestly used, but it is not necessary to display them,” said Mrs. March.
“Any more than it’s proper to wear all your bonnets and gowns and ribbons at once, that folks may know you’ve got them,” added Jo, and the lecture ended in a laugh.
“Mercy on us, this will never do,” thought Jo; adding aloud, “Go and sing for me. I’m dying for some music, and ‘always like yours.'”
“I’d rather stay here, thank you.”
“Well, you can’t; there isn’t room. Go and make yourself useful, since you are too big to be ornamental…”
“Little Teddy bore a charmed life, for nothing ever happened to him, and Jo never felt any anxiety when he was whisked up into a tree by one lad, galloped off on the back of another, or supplied with sour russets by his indulgent papa, who labored under the Germanic delusion that babies could digest anything, from pickled cabbage to buttons, nails, and their own small shoes. She knew that little Ted would turn up again in time, safe and rosy, dirty and serene, and she always received him back with a hearty welcome, for Jo loved her babies tenderly.”