FullReads

December 25, 1854.

DEAR MOTHER:

Into your Christmas stocking I have put my first-born, knowing that you will accept it with all its faults (for grandmothers are always kind) and look upon it merely as an earnest of what I may yet do; for with so much to cheer me on, I hope to pass in time from fairies and fables to men and realities. Whatever beauty or poetry is to be found in my little book is owing to your interest in, and encouragement of, my efforts from the first to the last, and if ever I do anything to be proud of, my greatest happiness will be that I can thank you for that, as I may do for all the good there is in me, and I shall be content to write if it gives you pleasure.

Jo is fussing about,
My lamp is going out.

To dear mother, with many kind wishes for a Happy New Year and Merry Christmas,

I am ever your loving daughter,

LOUY.

Recompense enough, that note, for all a loving mother’s sacrifices and attempts to give her daughter understanding sympathy and love–and it is small wonder if that Christmas gift always remained one of her most precious possessions.

Six hundred copies of the little “Flower Fables” were published, and the book sold very well, although their author only received the sum of $32 for them, which was in sharp contrast, she says in her journal, “to the receipts of six months only in 1886, being eight thousand dollars for the sale of books and no new one; but” she adds, “I was prouder over the thirty-two dollars than the eight thousand.”

Louisa Alcott was now headed toward her destiny, although she was still a long way from the shining goal of literary success, and had many weary hills yet to climb.

As soon as Flower Fables was published, she began to plan for a new volume of fairy tales, and as she was invited to spend the next summer in the lovely New Hampshire village of Walpole, she thankfully accepted the invitation, and decided to write the new book there in the bracing air of the hill town. In Walpole, she met delightful people, who were all attracted to the versatile, amusing young woman, and she was in great demand when there was any entertainment on foot. One evening she gave a burlesque lecture on “Woman, and Her Position, by Oronthy Bluggage,” which created such a gale of merriment that she was asked to repeat it for money, which she did; and so there was added to her store of accomplishments another, from which she was to reap some rewards in coming years.

Her enjoyment of Walpole was so great that her family decided to try its fine air, as they were tired of city life and needed a change of scene. A friend offered them a house there, rent free, and in their usual impromptu way they left Boston and arrived in the country village, bag and baggage. Mr. Alcott was overjoyed to have a garden in which to work, and Mrs. Alcott was glad to be near her niece, whose guest Louisa had been up to that time.

Louisa’s comment on their arrival in her diary was:

“Busy and happy times as we settle in the little house in the lane, near by my dear ravine–plays, picnics, pleasant people and good neighbors.” Despite the good times, it is evident that she was not idle, for she says, “Finished fairy book in September…. Better than Flower Fables. Now, I must try to sell it.”

In September Anna had an offer to become a teacher in the great idiot asylum in Syracuse. Her sensitive nature shrank from the work, but with real self-sacrifice she accepted it for the sake of the family, and went off in October. Meanwhile Louisa had been thinking deeply about her future, and her diary tells the story of a decision she made, quite the most important one of her life. She writes: