"Beth was too bashful to go to school. It had been tried, but she suffered so much that it was given up, and she did her lessons at home with her father. Even when he went away and her mother was called to devote her skill and energy to soldiers' aid societies, Beth went faithfully on by herself and did the best she could. She was a housewifely little creature and helped Hannah keep the home neat and comfortable for the workers, never thinking of any reward but to be loved. Long, quiet days she spent, not lonely nor idle, for her little world was peopled with imaginary friends, and she was by nature a busy bee. There were six dolls to be taken up and dressed every morning, for Beth was a child still and loved her pets as well as ever. Not one whole or handsome one among them; all were outcasts till Beth took them in; for when her sisters outgrew these idols, they passed to her, because Amy would have nothing old or ugly. Beth cherished them all the more tenderly for that very reason and set up a hospital for infirm dolls. No pins were ever stuck into their cotton vitals; no harsh words or blows were ever given them; no neglect ever saddened the heart of the most repulsive; but all were fed and clothed, nursed and caressed, with an affection that never failed. One forlorn fragment of "dollanity" had belonged to Jo; and, having led a tempestuous life, it was left a wreck in the ragbag, from which dreary poorhouse it was rescued by Beth and taken to her refuge. Having no top to its head, she tied on a neat little cap, and, as both arms and legs were gone, she hid these deficiencies by folding it in a blanket and devoting her best bed to this chronic invalid. If anyone had known the care lavished on that dolly, I think it would have touched their hearts, even while they laughed. Beth brought it bits of bouquets; she read to it, took it out to breathe the air, hidden under her coat; she sang it lullabies and never went to bed without kissing its dirty face and whispering tenderly, "I hope you'll have a good night, my poor dear."
    Beth had her troubles as well as the others; and not being an angel but a very human little girl, she often "wept a little weep," as Jo said, because she couldn't take music lessons and have a fine piano. She loved music so dearly, tried so hard to learn, and practiced away so patiently at the jingling old instrument that it did seem as if someone (not to hint Aunt March) ought to help her. Nobody did, however, and nobody saw Beth wipe the tears off the yellow keys, which wouldn't keep in tune, when she was all alone. She sang like a little lark about her work, never was too tired to play for Marmee and the girls, and day after day said hopefully to herself, "I know I'll get my music sometime, if I'm good."
    There are many Beths in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind."



Quel exemple.

Oh boy. Finals are finally over. :) I am so happy. I am a very content little woman right now.

The only tiny speck marring my perfect happiness is my dog Diamond. She's been acting a little strange for a few days. She's been extremely clingy to me and my dad and has even been seen following my mom around (she doesn't usually do that). As an experiment, I walked all around the house to all sorts of different places, even scary places like the bathroom (where she gets her baths) and the workshop (cold and full of weird stuff) and she literally followed me as close as a shadow. She doesn't really seem sick, and while I can't exactly remember her eating in the last few days she could totally have done it without me knowing. She did refuse a rawhide chew earlier though, which is highly unusual. Does anyone have any clue as to what could be up with her? I am out of ideas. For the time being, she seems ok, just very attached.

Other than that, life is a peach. :)

**Update**

I think I solved the Diamond mystery. She was just lonely I think. I played with her and Jessie and they seemed a lot more cheered up. Plus then Mom and Dad got home and that pretty much sealed the deal. :) She's over in the corner chewing the rawhide now. Hooray!

Now I'm trying to think how best to spend the rest of this comfy, snowy evening. Bon soir.