The Upton Letters
By ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON aedae muri' eseidon oneirata, koudepo aos. 1905 PREFACE These letters were returned to me, shortly after the death of the friend to whom they were written, by his widow. It seems that he had been sorting and destroying letters and papers a few days
to you girls," said Mrs. March, patting her pocket as if she
had got a treasure there.
"Hurry and get done! Don't stop to quirk your little finger
and simper over your plate, Amy," cried Jo, choking on her tea
and dropping her bread, butter side down, on the carpet in her
haste to get at the treat.
Beth ate no more, but crept away to sit in her shadowy corner
and brood over the delight to come, till the others were ready.
"I think it was so splendid in Father to go as chaplain
when he was too old to be drafted, and not strong enough for
a soldier," said Meg warmly.
"Don't I wish I could go as a drummer, a vivan--what's its
name? Or a nurse, so I could be near him and help him," exclaimed
Jo, with a groan.
"It must be very disagreeable to sleep in a tent, and eat
all sorts of bad-tasting things, and drink out of a tin mug,"
sighed Amy.
"When will he come home, Marmee?" asked Beth, with a little
quiver in her voice.
By ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON aedae muri' eseidon oneirata, koudepo aos. 1905 PREFACE These letters were returned to me, shortly after the death of the friend to whom they were written, by his widow. It seems that he had been sorting and destroying letters and papers a few days