how to tell stories to children-第16章
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Every bit of money she earned； except what she had to use； she gave to her dear family。 It helped very much； but it was so little that Louisa never felt as if she were doing anything。
Every year she grew more unselfish； and every year she worked harder。 She liked writing stories best of all her work； but she did not get much money for them； and some people told her she was wasting her time。
At last； one day； a publisher asked Louisa； who was now a woman； to write a book for girls。 Louisa was not very well； and she was very tired； but she always said； 〃I'll try；〃 when she had a chance to work； so she said； 〃I'll try；〃 to the publisher。 When she thought about the book she remembered the good times she used to have with her sisters in the big； bare house in the country。 And so she wrote a story and put all that in it； she put her dear mother and her wise father in it； and all the little sisters； and besides the jolly times and the plays； she put the sad； hard times in；the work and worry and going without things。
When the book was written； she called it 〃Little Women；〃 and sent it to the publisher。
And； children； the little book made Louisa famous。 It was so sweet and funny and sad and real；like our own lives；that everybody wanted to read it。 Everybody bought it； and much money came from it。 After so many years； little Louisa's wish came true： she bought a nice house for her family； she sent one of her sisters to Europe； to study； she gave her father books； but best of all； she was able to see to it that the beloved mother； so tired and so ill； could have rest and happiness。 Never again did the dear mother have to do any hard work； and she had pretty things about her all the rest of her life。
Louisa Alcott； for that was Louisa's name； wrote many beautiful books after this； and she became one of the most famous women of America。 But I think the most beautiful thing about her is what I have been telling you： that she loved her mother so well that she gave her whole life to make her happy。
MY KINGDOM
The little Louisa I told you about； who wrote verses and stories in her diary； used to like to play that she was a princess； and that her kingdom was her own mind。 When she had unkind or dissatisfied thoughts； she tried to get rid of them by playing they were enemies of the kingdom； and she drove them out with soldiers； the soldiers were patience； duty； and love。 It used to help Louisa to be good to play this； and I think it may have helped make her the splendid woman she was afterward。 Maybe you would like to hear a poem she wrote about it； when she was only fourteen years old。＇1＇ It will help you； too； to think the same thoughts。
＇1＇ From Louisa M。 Alcott's Life； Letters； and Journals （Little； Brown & Co。）。 Copyright； 1878； by Louisa M。 Alcott。 Copyright； 1906； by J。 S。 P。 Alcott。
A little kingdom I possess； Where thoughts and feelings dwell； And very hard I find the task Of governing it well； For passion tempts and troubles me； A wayward will misleads； And selfishness its shadow casts On all my words and deeds。
How can I learn to rule myself； To be the child I should； Honest and brave； nor ever tire Of trying to be good？ How can I keep a sunny soul To shine along life's way？ How can I tune my little heart To sweetly sing all day？
Dear Father； help me with the love That casteth out my fear； Teach me to lean on thee； and feel That thou art very near；
That no temptation is unseen； No childish grief too small； Since thou； with patience infinite； Doth soothe and comfort all。
I do not ask for any crown But that which all may win； Nor seek to conquer any world； Except the one within。 Be thou my guide until I find； Led by a tender hand； Thy happy kingdom in MYSELF； And dare to take command。
PICCOLA＇1＇
＇1＇ From Celia Thaxter's Stories and Poems for Children Houghton； Mifflin & Co。）。
Poor； sweet Piccola！ Did you hear What happened to Piccola； children dear？ 'T is seldom Fortune such favor grants As fell to this little maid of France。
'Twas Christmas…time； and her parents poor Could hardly drive the wolf from the door； Striving with poverty's patient pain Only to live till summer again。
No gifts for Piccola！ Sad were they When dawned the morning of Christmas…day； Their little darling no joy might stir； St。 Nicholas nothing would bring to her！
But Piccola never doubted at all That something beautiful must befall Every child upon Christmas…day； And so she slept till the dawn was gray。
And full of faith； when at last she woke； She stole to her shoe as the morning broke； Such sounds of gladness filled all the air； 'T was plain St。 Nicholas had been there！
In rushed Piccola sweet； half wild： Never was seen such a joyful child。 〃See what the good saint brought！〃 she cried； And mother and father must peep inside。
Now such a story who ever heard？ There was a little shivering bird！ A sparrow； that in at the window flew； Had crept into Piccola's tiny shoe！
〃How good poor Piccola must have been！〃 She cried； as happy as any queen； While the starving sparrow she fed and warmed； And danced with rapture； she was so charmed。
Children； this story I tell to you； Of Piccola sweet and her bird； is true。 In the far…off land of France； they say； Still do they live to this very day。
THE LITTLE FIR TREE
＇When I was a very little girl some one； probably my mother； read to me Hans Christian Andersen's story of the Little Fir Tree。 It happened that I did not read it for myself or hear it again during my childhood。 One Christmas day； when I was grown up； I found myself at a loss for the 〃one more〃 story called for by some little children with whom I was spending the holiday。 In the mental search for buried treasure which ensued； I came upon one or two word…impressions of the experiences of the Little Fir Tree； and forthwith wove them into what I supposed to be something of a reproduction of the original。 The latter part of the story had wholly faded from my memory； so that I 〃made up〃 to suit the tastes of my audience。 Afterward I told the story to a good many children； at one time or another； and it gradually took the shape it has here。 It was not until several years later that； in re…reading Andersen for other purposes； I came upon the real story of the Little Fir Tree； and read it for myself。 Then indeed I was amused； and somewhat distressed； to find how far I had wandered from the text。
I give this explanation that the reader may know I do not presume to offer the little tale which follows as an 〃adaptation〃 of Andersen's famous story。 I offer it plainly as a story which children have liked； and which grew out of my early memories of Andersen's 〃The Little Fir Tree〃＇。
Once there was a Little Fir Tree； slim and pointed； and shiny； which stood in the great forest in the midst of some big fir trees； broad； and tall； and shadowy green。 The Little Fir Tree was very unhappy because he was not big like the others。 When the birds came flying into the woods and lit on the branches of the big trees and built their nests there； he used to call up to them；
〃Come down； come down； rest in my branches！〃 But they always said； 〃Oh； no； no； you are too little！〃
And when the splendid wind came blowing and singing through the forest； it bent and rocked and swung the tops of the big trees； and murmured to them。 Then the Little Fir Tree looked up； and called；
〃Oh； please； dear wind； come down and play with me！〃 But he always said；
〃Oh； no； you are too little； you are too little！〃
And in the winter the white snow fell softly； softly； and covered the great trees all over with wonderful caps and coats of white。 The Little Fir Tree； close down in the cover of the others； would call up；
〃Oh； please； dear snow； give me a cap； too！ I want to play； too！〃 But the snow always said；
〃Oh no； no； no； you are too little； you are too little！〃
The worst of all was when men came into the wood； with sledges and teams of horses。 They came to cut the big trees down and carry them away。 And when one had been cut down and carried away the others talked a
