. . . 279

A FOREWORD BY MEG.

In the good old times, when "Little Women" worked and played together,
the big garret was the scene of many dramatic revels. After a long day
of teaching, sewing, and "helping mother," the greatest delight of the
girls was to transform themselves into queens, knights, and cavaliers of
high degree, and ascend into a world of fancy and romance. Cinderella's
godmother waved her wand, and the dismal room became a fairy-land.
Flowers bloomed, forests arose, music sounded, and lovers exchanged
their vows by moonlight. Nothing was too ambitious to attempt; armor,
gondolas, harps, towers, and palaces grew as if by magic, and wonderful
scenes of valor and devotion were enacted before admiring audiences.

Jo, of course, played the villains, ghosts, bandits, and disdainful
queens; for her tragedy-loving soul delighted in the lurid parts, and no
drama was perfect in her eyes without a touch of the demonic or
supernatural. Meg loved the sentimental roles, the tender maiden with
the airy robes and flowing locks, who made impossible sacrifices for
ideal lovers, or the cavalier, singing soft serenades and performing
lofty acts of gallantry and prowess. Amy was the fairy sprite, while
Beth enacted the page or messenger when the scene required their aid.

But the most surprising part of the performance was the length of the
cast and the size of the company; for Jo and Meg usually acted the whole
play, each often assuming five or six characters, and with rapid change
of dress becoming, in one scene, a witch, a soldier, a beauteous lady,
and a haughty noble. This peculiar arrangement accounts for many queer
devices, and the somewhat singular fact that each scene offers but two
actors, who vanish and reappear at most inopportune moments, and in a
great variety of costume. Long speeches were introduced to allow a
ruffian to become a priest, or a lovely damsel to disguise herself in
the garb of a sorceress; while great skill was required to preserve the
illusion, and astonish the audience by these wonderful transformations.

The young amateur of to-day, who can easily call to her aid all the arts
of the costumer and scene-maker, will find it hard to understand the
difficulties of this little company; for not only did they compose
their plays, but they were also their own carpenters, scene-painters,
property-men, dress-makers, and managers. In place of a well-appoint