“Tell us all about it.” “When did it come?” “How much did you get for it?” “What will father say?” “Won’t Laurie laugh?” cried the family, all in one breath, as they clustered about Jo; for these foolish, affectionate people made a jubilee of every little household joy.

“Stop jabbering, girls, and I’ll tell you everything,” said Jo, wondering if Miss Burney felt any grander over her “Evelina” than she did over her “Rival Painters.” Having told how she disposed of her tales, Jo added, “And when I went to get my answer, the man said he liked them both, but didn’t pay beginners, only let them print in his paper, and noticed the stories. It was good practice, he said; and when the beginners improved, any one would pay. So I let him have the two stories, and today this was sent to me, and Laurie caught me with it, and insisted on seeing it, so I let him; and he said it was good, and I shall write more, and he’s going to get the next paid for, and I am so happy, for in time I may be able to support myself and help the girls.”