from tree to tree echoed the music of the unseen choir, as the boys sung, with all their hearts, the little song Jo had written, Laurie set to music, and the Professor trained his lads to give with the best effect. This was something altogether new, and it proved a grand success; for Mrs. March couldn’t get over her surprise, and insisted on shaking hands with every one of the featherless birds, from tall Franz and Emil to the little quadroon, who had the sweetest voice of all.
After this, the boys dispersed for a final lark, leaving Mrs. March and her daughters under the festival tree.
“I don’t think I ever ought to call myself ‘Unlucky Jo’ again, when my greatest wish has been so beautifully gratified,” said Mrs. Bhaer, taking Teddy’s little fist out of the milk-pitcher, in which he was rapturously churning.
“And yet your life is very different from the one you pictured so long ago. Do you remember our castles in the air?” asked Amy, smiling as she watched Laurie and John playing cricket with the boys.
“Dear fellows! It does my heart good to see them forget business, and frolic for a day,” answered Jo, who now spoke in a