lways wide awake enough when it came time for
some one to go for the mail, and her sisters joked her about her
eagerness for letters, which she bore good-naturedly enough. Then came
a wonderful day when she was handed a letter from a well-known firm of
publishers. Her hand shook as she opened it, and she gave a suppressed
cry of joy as she read the short note, and looked with amazement at
the bit of paper enclosed.

Later in the day, when the housework was done and school was over, she
sauntered into the room where the family was gathered in a sewing-bee.
Throwing herself into a chair with an indifferent air, she asked:

"Want to hear a good story?"

Of course they did. The Alcotts were always ready for a story, and
Louisa read extremely well. Her audience listened to the thrilling
tale with eager attention, and at the end there was a chorus of cries:
"How fine! How lovely! How interesting!" Then Anna asked: "Who wrote
it?" With shining eyes and crimson cheeks Louisa jumped to her feet
and, waving the paper overhead, cried:

"_Your sister! I wrote it!_ Yes, I really did!"

One can imagine the great excitement of the group who then clustered
around the authoress and asked questions all at once.

That first published story was pronounced by its creator to be "great
rubbish," and she only received the sum of five dollars for it, but
it was a beginning, and from that time in her active brain plots for
stories long and short began to simmer, although she still taught, and
often did sewing in the evenings, for which she was fairly well paid.

In mid-winter of 1853 Mr. Alcott went West on a lecture tour, full of
hope for a financial success. He left the home group as busy as usual,
for Mrs. Alcott had several boarders, as well as her employment
office. Anna had gone to Syracuse to teach in a school there, Louisa
had opened a home school with ten pupils, and the calm philosopher
felt that he could leave them with a quiet mind, as they were all
earning money, and this was his opportunity to broaden the field in
which the seeds of unique ideas were sown.

So off he went, full of eager courage, followed by the good wishes of
the girls, who fondly hoped that "father would be appreciated at
last." Alas for hopes! On a February night, when all the household
were sleeping soundly, the bell rang violently. All were awakened, and
Louisa says, "Mother flew down, crying 'my husband!' We rushed after,
and five white figures embrac