Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the eighth chapter of Little Men.

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Today we'll be continuing little Men by Louisa May Alcott.

Chapter Eight Pranks and Plays as there's no particular plan to this story except to describe a few scenes in life at Plumfield, for the amusement of certain little persons, we will gently ramble along in this chapter and tell some of the pastimes of Mrs.

Jo's boys.

I beg leave to assure my honored readers that most of the incidents are taken from real life, and that the oddest are the truest.

For no person, no matter how vivid an imagination he may have, can invent anything half so droll as the freaks and fancies that originate in the lively brains of little people.

Daisy and Demi were full of these whims and lived in a world of their own peopled with lovely or grotesque creatures to whom they gave the queerest names and with whom they played the queerest games.

One of these nursery inventions was an invisible sprite called the Naughty Kitty Mouse, whom the children had believed in, feared, and served for a long time.

They seldom spoke of it to anyone else, kept their rights as private as possible, and as they never tried to describe it even to themselves, this being had a vague, mysterious charm, very agreeable to Demi, who delighted in elves and goblins.

A most whimsical and tyrannical imp was the Naughty Kitty Mouse, and Daisy found a fearful pleasure in its service, blindly obeying its most absurd demands, which were usually proclaimed from the lips of Demi, whose powers of invention were great.

Rob and Teddy sometimes joined in these ceremonies and considered them excellent fun, although they did not understand half that went on.

One day after school, Demi whispered to his sister with an ominous wag of the head, a Kitty Mouse wants us this afternoon.

What for?

Asked Daisy anxiously.

A sacrifice, answered Demi solemnly.

There must be a fire behind the big rock at 02:00, and we must all bring the things we like best and burn them, he added, with an awful emphasis on the last words.

Oh, dear.

I love the new paper dollies Aunt Amy painted for me.

Best of anything must I burn them up?

Cried Daisy, who never thought of denying the Unseen Tyrant anything it demanded.

Everyone, I shall burn my boat, my best scrapbook and all my soldiers, said Demi firmly.

Well, I will.

But it's too bad of Kitty Mouse to want her very nicest things, sighed Daisy.

A sacrifice means to give up what you're fond of.

So we must, explained Demi, to whom the new idea had been suggested, by hearing Uncle Fritz describe the customs of the Greeks to the big boys who were reading about them in school.

Is Rob coming too?

Asked Daisy.

Yes, and he's going to bring his toy village.

It is all made of wood, you know, and will burn nicely.

We'll have a grand bonfire and see them blaze up, won't we?

This brilliant prospect consoled Daisy, and she ate her dinner with a row of paper dolls before her as a sort of farewell banquet.

At the appointed hour, the sacrificial train set forth each child bearing the treasures demanded by the insatiable Kitty Mouse.

Tedy insisted on going also, and seeing that all the others had toys, he tucked a squeaking lamb under one arm and old Annabella under the other, little dreaming what anguish the latter idol was to give him.

Where are you going, my chickens?

Asked Mrs Joe, as the flock passed her door to play by the big rock.

Can't we?

Yes, only don't do near the pond and take good care of Baby.

I always do, said Daisy, leading forth her charge with a capable air.

Now you must all sit round and not move till I tell you.

This flat stone is an altar and I'm going to make a fire on it.

Demi then proceeded to kindle up a small blaze, as he had seen the boys do at picnics when the flame burned.

Well, he ordered the company to march round it three times and then stand in a circle.

I shall begin, and as fast as my things are burnt, you must bring yours.

With that he solemnly laid on a little paper book full of pictures pasted in by himself.

This was followed by a dilapidated boat, and then, one by one, the unhappy leaden soldiers marched to death.

Not one faltered or hung back from the splendid red and yellow captain to the small drummer who had lost his legs, all vanished in the flames and mingled in one common pool of melted lead.

Now Daisy, called the High Priest of Kitty Mouse, when his rich offerings had been consumed to the great satisfaction of the children.

My dear Dollies, how can I let them go?

Moaned Daisy, hugging the entire dozen with a face full of maternal woe.

You must.

Commanded Demi.

And with a farewell kiss to each, daisy laid her blooming dolls under the coals.

Let me keep one, the dear blue thing.

She is so sweet.

Beside the poor little mama, clutching her last in despair.

More, more.

Growled an awful voice, and Demi cried that's the Kitty Mouse.

She must have everyone quick, or she will scratch us.

In went the precious blue bell flounces, rosy hat and all, and nothing but a few black flakes remained of that bright band.

Stand the houses and trees round and let them catch themselves.

It'll be like a real fire then, said Demi, who liked variety even in his sacrifices.

Charmed by the suggestion, the children arranged the doomed village, laid a line of coals along the main street, and then sat down to watch the conflagration.

It was somewhat slow to kindle, owing to the paint, but at last one ambitious little cottage blazed up, fired a tree of the palm species, which fell onto the roof of a large family mansion, and in a few minutes the whole town was burning merrily.

The wooden population stood and stared at the destruction, like blockheads as they were, till they also caught and blazed away without a cry.

It took some time to reduce the town to ashes, and the lookers on enjoyed the spectacle immensely, cheering as each house fell, dancing like wild Indians when the steeple flamed aloft, and actually casting one wretched little churn shaped lady who had escaped to the suburbs into the very heart of the fire.

The superb success of this last offering excited Teddy to such a degree that he first threw his lamb into the conflagration and before it had time even to roast, he planted poor Annabella on the funeral pyre.

Of course she did not like it and expressed her anguish and resentment in a way that terrified her infant destroyer.

Being covered with kid, she did not blaze, but did what was worse.

She squirmed, first one leg curled up, then the other, in a very awful and lifelike manner.

Next she flung her arms over her.

Head as if in great agony, her head itself turned on her shoulders.

Her glass eyes fell out, and with one final writhe of her whole body, she sank down a blackened mass on the ruins of the town.

This unexpected demonstration startled everyone and frightened Teddy half out of his little wits.

He looked, then screamed and fled toward the house, roaring marmar at the top of his voice.

Mrs.

Bear heard the outcry and ran to the rescue.

But Teddy could only cling to her and pour out in his broken way something about poor Bella herded a draped fire and all the dollies dorn.

Fearing some dire mishap, his mother caught him up and hurried to the scene of action, where she found the blind worshippers of kitty mouse mourning over the charred remains of the lost darling.

What have you been at?

Tell me all about it, said Mrs.

Jo, composing herself to listen patiently, for the culprits looked so penitent, she forgave them beforehand.

With some reluctance, Demi explained their play and Aunt Jo laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks.

The children were so solemn and the play was so absurd.

I thought you were too sensible to play such a silly game as this.

If I had any kitty mouse, I'd have a good one who liked you to play in safe, pleasant ways and not destroy and frightened.

Just see what a ruin you have made.

Old Daisy's pretty dolls, demi's soldiers and Rob's new village beside poor Teddy's pet lamb and dear old Annabella.

I shall have to write up in the nursery the verse that used to come in the boxes of toys the children of Holland take pleasure in making what the children of Boston take pleasure in breaking.

Only I shall put Plumfield instead of Boston we will never again truly, truly, cried the repentant little sinners.

Much abashed at this reproof Demi told us to, said Rob.

Well, I heard uncle tell about the Greece people who had altars and things, and so I wanted to be like them, only I hadn't any live creatures to sacrifice, so we burnt up our toys.

Dear me, that is something like the bean story, said Aunt Joe, laughing again.

Tell me about it, suggested Daisy.

To change the subject.

Once there was a poor woman who had three or four little children, and she used to lock them up in her room when she went out to work to keep them safe.

One day when she was going away, she said, now, my dears, don't let baby fall out of window, don't play with the matches, and don't put beans up your noses.

Now, the children had never dreamed of doing that last thing, but she put it into their heads, and the minute she was gone, they ran and stuffed their naughty little noses full of beans just to see how it felt.

And she found them all crying when she came home.

Did it hurt?

Asked Rob with such intense interest that his mother hastily added a warning sequel, lest a new edition of the bean story should appear in her own family, very much as I know.

For when my mother told me this story, I was so silly that I went and tried it myself.

I had no beans, so I took some little pebbles and poked several into my nose.

I did not like it at all and wanted to take them out again very soon.

But one would not come, and I was so ashamed to tell what a goose I'd been.

I went for hours with the stone hurting me very much.

At last the pain got so bad I had to tell, and when my mother could not get it out, the doctor came.

Then I was put in a chair and held tight Rob while he used his ugly little pinchers till the stone hopped out.

Dear me, how my wretched little nose did ache, and how people laughed at me.

And Mrs.

Jo shook her head in a dismal way, as if the memory of her sufferings was too much for her.

Rob looked deeply impressed, and, I'm glad to say, took the warning to heart.

Demi proposed that they should bury poor Annabella, and in the interest of the funeral, Teddy forgot his fright.

Daisy was soon consoled by another batch of dolls from Aunt Amy, and the naughty kitty mouse seemed to be appeased by the last offerings, for she tormented them no more.

Brops was the name of a new and absorbing play invented by bangs, as this interesting animal is not to be found in any zoological garden unless Dr.

Chihuahu has recently brought one from the wilds of Africa.

I will mention a few of its peculiar habits and traits for the benefit of inquiring minds.

The BROP is a winged quadruped with a human face of a youthful and merry aspect.

When it walks the earth, it grunts.

When it soars, it gives a shrill hoot.

Occasionally it goes erect and talks good English.

Its body is usually covered with a substance much resembling a shawl, sometimes red, sometimes blue, often plaid, and, strange to say, they frequently change skins with one another.

On their heads they have a horn very like a stiff brown paper lamplighter.

Wings of the same substance flap upon their shoulders when they fly.

This is never very far from the ground, as they usually fall with violence.

If they attempt any lofty flights, they browse over the earth, but can sit up and eat like the squirrel.

Their favorite nourishment is the seed cake.

Apples are also freely taken, and sometimes raw carrots are nibbled when the food is scarce.

They live in dens when they have a sort of nest, much like a clothesbasket, in which the little brops play till their wings are grown.

These singular animals quarrel at times, and it is so on these occasions that they burst into human speech, call each other names, cry, scold, and sometimes tear off horns and skin, declaring fiercely that they won't play.

The few privileged persons who have studied them are inclined to think them a remarkable mixture of the monkey, the sphinx, the rock and the queer creatures seen by the famous Peter Wilkins.

This game was a great favorite, and the younger children beguiled many a rainy afternoon, flapping or creeping about the nursery, acting like little bedlamites and being as merry as little grigs.

To be sure, it was rather hard upon clothes, particularly trouser knees and jacket elbows.

But Mrs.

Bear only said, as she patched and darned, we do things just as foolish and not half so harmless.

If I could get as much happiness out of it as the little deers do, I'd be abroad myself.

Nat's favorite amusements were working in his garden and sitting in the willow tree with his violin, for that green nest was a fairy world to him, and there he loved to perch, making music like a happy bird.

The lads called him Old Chipper because he was always humming, whistling or fiddling, and they often stopped a minute in their work or play to listen to the soft tones of the violin, which seemed to lead a little orchestra of summer sounds.

The birds appeared to regard him as one of themselves and fearlessly sat on the fence or lit among the boughs to watch him with their quick, bright eyes.

The robins and the apple tree nearby evidently considered him a friend, for the father bird hunted insects close beside him, and the little mother brooded his confidingly over her blue eggs as if the boy was only a new sort of blackbird who cheered her patient watch with this song.

The brown brook babbled and sparkled below him.

The bees hunted the cloverfields on either side.

Friendly faces peeped at him as they passed the old house stretched its wide wings hospitably toward him, and with a blessed sense of rest and love and happiness, nat dreamed for hours in this nook unconscious.

What helpful miracles are being wrought upon him.

One listener he had who never tired and to whom he was more than a mere schoolmate.

Poor Billy's chief delight was to lie beside the brook, watching leaves and bits of foam dance by listening dreamily to the music in the willow tree.

He seemed to think Nat a sort of angel who sat aloft and sang for a few baby.

Memories still lingered in his mind and seemed to grow brighter at these times.

Seeing the interest he took in Nat, mr.

Bear begged him to help them lift the cloud from the feeble brain by this gentle spell.

Glad to do anything to show his gratitude, nat always smiled on Billy when he followed him about and let him listen undisturbed to the music which seemed to speak a language he could understand.

Help one another was a favorite Plumfield motto, and Nat learned how much sweetness is added to life by trying to live up to it.

Jack Ford's peculiar pastime was buying and selling and a bit fair to follow in the footsteps of his uncle, a country merchant who sold a little of everything and made money fast.

Jack had seen the sugar sanded, the molasses, watered the butter mixed with lard and things of that kind, and labored under the delusion that it was all a proper part of the business.

His stock in trade was of a different sort, but he made as much as he could out of every worm he sold, and always got the best of the bargain when he traded with the boys for string knives, fish hooks, or whatever the article might be.

The boys, who all had nicknames, called him Skin Flint, but Jack did not care, as long as the old tobacco pouch in which he kept his money grew heavier and heavier.

He established a sort of auction room, and now and then sold off all the odds and ends he had collected, or helped the lads exchange things with one another.

He got bats, balls, hockey sticks, etc.

Cheap from one set of mates, furbished them up, and let them for a few cents a time to another set, often extending his business beyond the gates of Plumfield.

In spite of the rules, mr.

Bear put a stop to some of his speculations and tried to give him a better idea of business talent than mere sharpness in overreaching his neighbors.

Now and then Jack made a bad bargain and felt worse about it than about any failure in lessons or conduct, and took his revenge on the next innocent customer who came along.

His account book was a curiosity, and his quickness at figures quite remarkable.

Mr.

Bear praised him for this and tried to make his sense of honesty and honor as quick and by and by.

When Jack found that he could not get on without these virtues, he owned that his teacher was right.

Cricket and football the boys had, of course, but after the stirring accounts of these games and the immortal Tom Brown at Rugby, no feeble female pen may venture to do more than respectfully allude to them.

Emile spent his holidays on the river or the pond, and drilled the elder lads for a race with certain townboys who now and then invaded their territory.

The race duly came off but as it ended in a general shipwreck, it was not mentioned in public and the Commodore had serious thoughts of retiring to a desert island so disgusted was he with his kind for a time, no desert island being convenient, he was forced to remain among his friends and found consolation in building a boathouse.

The little girls indulged in the usual plays of their age, improving upon them somewhat as their lively fancies suggested.

The chief and most absorbing play was called Mrs.

Shakespeare Smith.

The name was provided by Aunt Joe, but the trials of the poor lady were quite original.

Daisy was Mrs.

S and NAN, by turns, her daughter or neighbor, Mrs.

Giddy Gatty.

No penn can describe the adventures of these ladies, for in one short afternoon their family was the scene of births, marriages, deaths, floods, earthquakes, tea parties and balloon ascensions.

Millions of miles did these energetic women travel, dressed in hats and habits never seen before by mortal eye perched on the bed, driving the posts like metalsome steeds and bouncing up and down till their heads spun fits and fires were the pet afflictions with a general massacre now and then by way of change.

Man was never tired of inventing fresh combinations, and Daisy followed her leader with blind admiration.

Poor Teddy was a frequent victim and was often rescued from real danger, for the excited ladies were apt to forget that he was not of the same stuff their long suffering dolls.

Once he was shut into the closet for a dungeon and forgotten by the girls who ran off to some out of door game.

Another time he was half drowned in the bathtub playing be a cunning little whale.

And worst of all, he was cut down just in time after being hung up for a robber.

But the institution most patronized by all was the club.

It had no other name and it needed none, being the only one in the neighborhood.

The elder lads got it up and the younger were occasionally admitted if they behaved well.

Tommy and Demi were honorary members but were always obliged to retire unpleasantly early owing to circumstances over which they had no control.

The proceedings of this club were somewhat peculiar, for it met at all sorts of places and hours, had all manner of queer ceremonies and amusements, and now and then it was broken up tempestuously, only to be reestablished, however, on a firmer basis.

Rainy evenings, the members met in the schoolroom and passed the time in games, chess, morris, batgammon, fencing, matches, recitations debates or dramatic performances of a darkly tragical nature.

In summer, the barn was the rendezvous, and what went on there no uninitiated mortal knows.

On sultry evenings, the club adjourned to the brook for aquatic exercises and the members sat about in area tire, frog like and cool.

On such occasions the speeches were unusually eloquent, quite flowing, as one might say, and if any orator's remarks displeased the audience, cold water was thrown upon him till his ardour was effectually quenched.

Franz was president and maintained order admirably.

Considering the unruly nature of the members, mr.

Bear never interfered with their affairs and was rewarded for this wise forbearance by being invited now and then to behold the mysteries unveiled which he appeared to enjoy much.

When NAN came, she wished to join the club and caused great excitement and diversion among the gentlemen by presenting endless petitions, both written and spoken, disturbing their solemnities by insulting them through the keyhole, performing vigorous solos on the door and writing up derisive remarks on walls and fences, for she belonged to the irrepressibles.

Finding these appeals in vain, the girls, by the advice of Mrs.

Jo, got up an institution of their own which they called the Cozy Club.

To this, they magnanimously invited the gentleman whose youth excluded them from the other one and entertained these favored beings so well with little suppers, new games devised by NAN, and other pleasing festivities, that one by one the elder boys confessed a desire to partake of these more elegant enjoyments and after much consultation, finally decided to propose an interchange of civil tease.

The members of the cozy club were invited to adorn the rival establishment on certain evenings and to the surprise of the gentleman their presence was not found to be a restraint upon the conversation or amusement of the regular frequenters who could not be said of all clubs.

I fancy the ladies responded handsomely and hospitably to these overtures of peace and both institutions flourished long and happily.

Thank you for joining Bite at a.

Time Books today while we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlyle and.

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