Eight Cousinsby Louisa May Alcott
Rose Campbell, tired and ill, has come to live at "The Aunt Hill" after the death of her beloved father. Six aunts fussing and fretting over her are bad enough, but what is a quiet 13-year-old girl to do with seven boisterous boy cousins?
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By LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, Jane Baine Kopito
Dover Publications, Inc.Copyright © 2007 Dover Publications, Inc.
All rights reserved.
Rose sat all alone in the big best parlor, with her little handkerchief laid ready to catch the first tear, for she was thinking of her troubles, and a shower was expected. She had retired to this room as a good place in which to be miserable; for it was dark and still, full of ancient furniture, sombre curtains, and hung all around with portraits of solemn old gentlemen in wigs, severe-nosed ladies in top-heavy caps, and staring children in little bob-tailed coats or short-waisted frocks. It was an excellent place for woe; and the fitful spring rain that pattered on the window-pane seemed to sob, "Cry away: I'm with you."
Rose really did have some cause to be sad; for she had no mother, and had lately lost her father also, which left her no home but this with her great-aunts. She had been with them only a week, and, though the dear old ladies had tried their best to make her happy, they had not succeeded very well, for she was unlike any child they had ever seen, and they felt very much as if they had the care of a low-spirited butterfly.
They had given her the freedom of the house, and for a day or two she had amused herself roaming all over it, for it was a capital old mansion, and was full of all manner of odd nooks, charming rooms, and mysterious passages. Windows broke out in unexpected places, little balconies overhung the garden most romantically, and there was a long upper hall full of curiosities from all parts of the world; for the Campbells had been sea-captains for generations.
Aunt Plenty had even allowed Rose to rummage in her great china closet,—a spicy retreat, rich in all the "goodies" that children love; but Rose seemed to care little for these toothsome temptations; and when that hope failed, Aunt Plenty gave up in despair.
Gentle Aunt Peace had tried all sorts of pretty needlework, and planned a doll's wardrobe that would have won the heart of even an older child. But Rose took little interest in pink satin hats and tiny hose, though she sewed dutifully till her aunt caught her wiping tears away with the train of a wedding-dress, and that discovery put an end to the sewing society.
Then both old ladies put their heads together and picked out the model child of the neighborhood to come and play with their niece. But Annabel Bliss was the worst failure of all, for Rose could not bear the sight of her, and said she was so like a wax doll she longed to give her a pinch and see if she would squeak. So prim little Annabel was sent home, and the exhausted aunties left Rose to her own devices for a day or two.
Bad weather and a cold kept her in-doors, and she spent most of her time in the library where her father's books were stored. Here she read a great deal, cried a little, and dreamed many of the innocent bright dreams in which imaginative children find such comfort and delight. This suited her better than anything else, but it was not good for her, and she grew pale, heavy-eyed and listless, though Aunt Plenty gave her iron enough to make a cooking-stove, and Aunt Peace petted her like a poodle.
Seeing this, the poor aunties racked their brains for a new amusement and determined to venture a bold stroke, though not very hopeful of its success. They said nothing to Rose about their plan for this Saturday afternoon, but let her alone till the time came for the grand surprise, little dreaming that the odd child would find pleasure for herself in a most unexpected quarter.
Before she had time to squeeze out a single tear a sound broke the stillness, making her prick up her ears. It was only the soft twitter of a bird, but it seemed to be a peculiarly gifted bird, for while she listened the soft twitter changed to a lively whistle, then a trill, a coo, a chirp, and ended in a musical mixture of all the notes, as if the bird burst out laughing. Rose laughed also, and, forgetting her woes, jumped up, saying eagerly,—
"It is a mocking-bird. Where is it?"
Running down the long hall, she peeped out at both doors, but saw nothing feathered except a draggle-tailed chicken under a burdock leaf. She listened again, and the sound seemed to be in the house. Away she went, much excited by the chase, and following the changeful song, it led her to the china-closet door.
"In there? How funny!" she said. But when she entered, not a bird appeared except the everlastingly kissing swallows on the Canton china that lined the shelves. All of a sudden Rose's face brightened, and, softly opening the slide, she peered into the kitchen. But the music had stopped, and all she saw was a girl in a blue apron scrubbing the hearth. Rose stared about her for a minute, and then asked abruptly,—
"Did you hear that mocking-bird?"
"I should call it a phebe-bird," answered the girl, looking up with a twinkle in her black eyes.
"Where did it go?"
"It is here still."
"In my throat. Do you want to hear it?"
"Oh, yes! I'll come in." And Rose crept through the slide to the wide shelf on the other side, being too hurried and puzzled to go round by the door.
The girl wiped her hands, crossed her feet on the little island of carpet where she was stranded in a sea of soapsuds, and then, sure enough, out of her slender throat came the swallow's twitter, the robin's whistle, the blue-jay's call, the thrush's song, the wood-dove's coo, and many another familiar note, all ending as before with the musical ecstasy of a bobolink singing and swinging among the meadow grass on a bright June day.
Rose was so astonished that she nearly fell off her perch, and when the little concert was over clapped her hands delightedly.
"Oh, it was lovely! Who taught you?"
"The birds," answered the girl, with a smile, as she fell to work again.
"It is very wonderful! I can sing, but nothing half so fine as that. What is your name, please?"
"I've heard of phebe-birds; but I don't believe the real ones could do that," laughed Rose, adding, as she watched with interest the scattering of dabs of soft soap over the bricks, "May I stay and see you work? It is very lonely in the parlor."
"Yes, indeed, if you want to," answered Phebe, wringing out her cloth in a capable sort of way that impressed Rose very much.
"It must be fun to swash the water round and dig out the soap. I'd love to do it, only aunt wouldn't like it, I suppose," said Rose, quite taken with the new employment.
"You'd soon get tired, so you'd better keep tidy and look on."
"I suppose you help your mother a good deal?"
"I haven't got any folks."
"Why, where do you live, then?"
"I'm going to live here, I hope. Dolly wants some one to help round, and I've come to try for a week."
"I hope you will stay, for it is very dull," said Rose, who had taken a sudden fancy to this girl, who sung like a bird and worked like a woman.
"Hope I shall; for I'm fifteen now, and old enough to earn my own living. You have come to stay a spell, haven't you?" asked Phebe, looking up at her guest and wondering how life could be dull to a girl who wore a silk frock, a daintily frilled apron, a pretty locket, and had her hair tied up with a velvet snood.
"Yes, I shall stay till my uncle comes. He is my guardian now, and I don't know what he will do with me. Have you a guardian?"
"My sakes, no! I was left on the poor-house steps a little mite of a baby, and Miss Rogers took a liking to me, so I've been there ever since. But she is dead now, and I take care of myself."
"How interesting! It is like Arabella Montgomery in the 'Gypsy's Child.' Did you ever read that sweet story?" asked Rose, who was fond of tales of foundlings, and had read many.
"I don't have any books to read, and all the spare time I get I run off into the woods; that rests me better than stories," answered Phebe, as she finished one job and began on another.
Rose watched her as she got out a great pan of beans to look over, and wondered how it would seem to have life all work and no play. Presently Phebe seemed to think it was her turn to ask questions, and said, wistfully,—
"You've had lots of schooling, I suppose?"
"Oh, dear me, yes! I've been at boarding-school nearly a year, and I'm almost dead with lessons. The more I got, the more Miss Power gave me, and I was so miserable that I 'most cried my eyes out. Papa never gave me hard things to do, and he always taught me so pleasantly I loved to study. Oh, we were so happy and so fond of one another! But now he is gone, and I am left all alone."
The tear that would not come when Rose sat waiting for it came now of its own accord,—two of them in fact,—and rolled down her cheeks, telling the tale of love and sorrow better than any words could do it.
For a minute there was no sound in the kitchen but the little daughter's sobbing and the sympathetic patter of the rain. Phebe stopped rattling her beans from one pan to another, and her eyes were full of pity as they rested on the curly head bent down on Rose's knee, for she saw that the heart under the pretty locket ached with its loss, and the dainty apron was used to dry sadder tears than any she had ever shed.
Somehow, she felt more contented with her brown calico gown and blue-checked pinafore; envy changed to compassion; and if she had dared she would have gone and hugged her afflicted guest.
Fearing that might not be considered proper, she said, in her cheery voice,—
"I'm sure you ain't all alone with such a lot of folks belonging to you, and all so rich and clever. You'll be petted to pieces, Dolly says, because you are the only girl in the family."
Phebe's last words made Rose smile in spite of her tears, and she looked out from behind her apron with an April face, saying in a tone of comic distress,—
"That's one of my troubles! I've got six aunts, and they all want me, and I don't know any of them very well. Papa named this place the Aunt-hill, and now I see why."
Phebe laughed with her as she said encouragingly,—
"Everyone calls it so, and it's a real good name, for all the Mrs. Campbells live handy by, and keep coming up to see the old ladies."
"I could stand the aunts, but there are dozens of cousins, dreadful boys all of them, and I detest boys! Some of them came to see me last Wednesday, but I was lying down, and when auntie came to call me I went under the quilt and pretended to be asleep. I shall have to see them some time, but I do dread it so." And Rose gave a shudder, for, having lived alone with her invalid father, she knew nothing of boys, and considered them a species of wild animal.
"Oh! I guess you'll like 'em. I've seen 'em flying round when they come over from the Point, sometimes in their boats and sometimes on horseback. If you like boats and horses, you'll enjoy yourself first-rate."
"But I don't! I'm afraid of horses, and boats make me ill, and I hate boys!" And poor Rose wrung her hands at the awful prospect before her. One of these horrors alone she could have borne, but all together were too much for her, and she began to think of a speedy return to the detested school.
Phebe laughed at her woe till the beans danced in the pan, but tried to comfort her by suggesting a means of relief.
"Perhaps your uncle will take you away where there ain't any boys. Dolly says he is a real kind man, and always brings heaps of nice things when he comes."
"Yes, but you see that is another trouble, for I don't know Uncle Alec at all. He hardly ever came to see us, though he sent me pretty things very often. Now I belong to him, and shall have to mind him, till I am eighteen. I may not like him a bit, and I fret about it all the time."
"Well, I wouldn't borrow trouble, but have a real good time. I'm sure I should think I was in clover if I had folks and money, and nothing to do but enjoy myself," began Phebe, but got no further, for a sudden rush and tumble outside made them both jump.
"It's thunder," said Phebe.
"It's a circus!" cried Rose, who from her elevated perch had caught glimpses of a gay cart of some sort and several ponies with flying manes and tails.
The sound died away, and the girls were about to continue their confidences when old Dolly appeared, looking rather cross and sleepy after her nap.
"You are wanted in the parlor, Miss Rose."
"Has anybody come?"
"Little girls shouldn't ask questions, but do as they are bid," was all Dolly would answer.
"I do hope it isn't Aunt Myra; she always scares me out of my wits asking how my cough is, and groaning over me as if I was going to die," said Rose, preparing to retire the way she came, for the slide, being cut for the admission of bouncing Christmas turkeys and puddings, was plenty large enough for a slender girl.
"Guess you'll wish it was Aunt Myra when you see who has come. Don't never let me catch you coming into my kitchen that way again, or I'll shut you up in the big b'iler," growled Dolly, who thought it her duty to snub children on all occasions.CHAPTER 2
Rose scrambled into the china-closet as rapidly as possible, and there refreshed herself by making faces at Dolly, while she settled her plumage and screwed up her courage. Then she crept softly down the hall and peeped into the parlor. No one appeared, and all was so still she felt sure the company was upstairs. So she skipped boldly through the half-open folding-doors, to behold on the other side a sight that nearly took her breath away.
Seven boys stood in a row,—all ages, all sizes, all yellow-haired and blue-eyed, all in full Scotch costume, and all smiling, nodding, and saying as with one voice, "How are you, cousin?"
Rose gave a little gasp, and looked wildly about her as if ready to fly, for fear magnified the seven and the room seemed full of boys. Before she could run, however, the tallest lad stepped out of the line, saying pleasantly,—
"Don't be frightened. This is the Clan come to welcome you; and I'm the chief, Archie, at your service."
He held out his hand as he spoke, and Rose timidly put her own into a brown paw, which closed over the white morsel and held it as the chief continued his introductions.
"We came in full rig, for we always turn out in style on grand occasions. Hope you like it. Now I'll tell you who these chaps are, and then we shall be all right. This big one is Prince Charlie, Aunt Clara's boy. She has but one, so he is an extra good one. This old fellow is Mac, the bookworm, called Worm for short. This sweet creature is Steve the Dandy. Look at his gloves and top-knot, if you please. They are Aunt Jane's lads, and a precious pair you'd better believe. These are the Brats, my brothers, Geordie and Will, and Jamie the Baby. Now, my men, step out and show your manners."
At this command, to Rose's great dismay, six more hands were offered, and it was evident that she was expected to shake them all. It was a trying moment to the bashful child; but, remembering that they were her kinsmen come to welcome her, she tried her best to return the greeting cordially.
This impressive ceremony being over, the Clan broke ranks, and both rooms instantly appeared to be pervaded with boys. Rose hastily retired to the shelter of a big chair and sat there watching the invaders and wondering when her aunt would come and rescue her.
As if bound to do their duty manfully, yet rather oppressed by it, each lad paused beside her chair in his wanderings, made a brief remark, received a still briefer answer, and then sheered off with a relieved expression.
Archie came first, and, leaning over the chair-back, observed in a paternal tone,—
"I'm glad you've come, cousin, and I hope you'll find the Aunt-hill pretty jolly."
"I think I shall."
Mac shook his hair out of his eyes, stumbled over a stool, and asked abruptly,—
"Did you bring any books with you?"
"Four boxes full. They are in the library."
Mac vanished from the room, and Steve, striking an attitude which displayed his costume effectively, said with an affable smile,—
"We were sorry not to see you last Wednesday. I hope your cold is better."
"Yes, thank you." And a smile began to dimple about Rose's mouth, as she remembered her retreat under the bed-cover.
Feeling that he had been received with distinguished marks of attention, Steve strolled away with his topknot higher than ever, and Prince Charlie pranced across the room, saying in a free and easy tone,—
"Mamma sent her love and hopes you will be well enough to come over for a day next week. It must be desperately dull here for a little thing like you."
"I'm thirteen and a half, though I do look small," cried Rose, forgetting her shyness in indignation at this insult to her newly acquired teens.
"Beg pardon, ma'am; never should have guessed it." And Charlie went off with a laugh, glad to have struck a spark out of his meek cousin.
Geordie and Will came together, two sturdy eleven and twelve year olders, and, fixing their round blue eyes on Rose, fired off a question apiece as if it was a shooting match and she the target.
Excerpted from Eight Cousins by LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, Jane Baine Kopito. Copyright © 2007 Dover Publications, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of Dover Publications, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Meet the Author
Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888) grew up in Concord, Massachusetts, and began her writing career at an early age, with short stories for newspapers and magazines. Best known for what began as a series of stories in the 1860s to the classic American children's novel we know today as Little Women.
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Thirteen-year-old Rose Campbell is a lonely and sickly orphaned girl. Her mother, also named Rose, died when she was young, and her father, George Campbell, has recently died from a long illness during which time Rose nursed him. Left alone, she goes to live with her maiden great-aunts, Plenty and Peace Campbell, in Boston, MA, with other aunts, the wives of her father's brothers, and their families living nearby. Of most interest, however, are her seven male cousins-Archie (16), Charlie (16), Mac (15), Steve (14), Will (12), Geordie (11), and little Jamie (6). Aunt Jane, mother of Mac and Steve, is a stern and humorless yet reliable disciplinarian whose husband Mac Campbell runs the family business trading in goods from the Far East. Aunt Clara, wife of Stephen Campbell who is in India and mother of Charlie, is a social butterfly who is completely absorbed in Boston's high society. Aunt Jessie, mother of Archie, Will, Geordie, and Jamie, and wife of sea captain James (Jem) Campbell, is steady, wise, and loving. Widowed Aunt Myra is a gloomy, self-absorbed hypochondriac and the mother of Caroline, the only other girl in the family, who unfortunately died young. As the book opens, Rose is mourning the death of her father and awaiting with apprehension the arrival of her unknown guardian, her father's bachelor brother Alec Campbell, a sea-faring physician who is returning from abroad to take over her care. Through his unorthodox but advanced theories about child-rearing, she becomes happier and healthier while finding her place in her family. She also makes friends with Phebe Moore, her aunts' young housemaid, whose cheerful attitude in the face of poverty helps Rose to understand and value her own good fortune. Each chapter describes an adventure in Rose's life over the next year as she learns to help herself and others make good choices. There is a sequel to Eight Cousins entitled Rose in Bloom (1876), which continues the story into Rose's young adulthood, depicting courtship and marriage, poverty and charity, transcendental poetry and prose, illness and death among her family and friends. Just as soon as I began reading this book, I had a good feeling that it was going to be a pleasant, delightful story, and I was not disappointed at all. Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888) is not remembered as one of America's best authors, let alone one of America's best women authors, for no reason. The only other book that I had read by her was Little Men, and that was a long time ago. Early in life she wrote passionate, fiery novels and sensational stories to make money, but she became most famous for producing wholesome books for children, and after their positive reception, she did not generally return to creating works for adults. She is best known for the novel Little Women (originally published in two parts, 1868 and 1869), loosely based on her childhood experiences with her three sisters, and its sequels Little Men (1871) and Jo's Boys (1886). There are some books that I have had to force myself to read, but not Eight Cousins; I always looked forward to those times when I would sit down to read it so that I could find out what would happen next in this wonderful story.
Really good book!!!! There is two in this series rose in bloom is the next and last. Everyone seven to fourteen read this
I traveled back to my younger days when I read Little Women and fell in love with Jo and her family. This book was an easy and enjoyable read. I smiled throughout the story. I just purchased Rose in Bloom and can't wait to travel back when time was simpler
This book, about a child named Rose Campbell, is my all-time favorite. While some of the stories might seem childish and abrupt at first, the more that you read them, the more they grow on you. I was eleven when I first read this; I heartily recommend that a child read this as young as nine. While they may not understand the book, they will still think of it as humorous. Have them write down what they think the book is about and then make them re-read it at age twelve. There will be a HUGE difference! READ IT! In my opinion this book is much better than Little Women. SO READ IT!!!!! Happy reading!
Its just as good as little men and is very very very AWESOME!!!
Lovely enjoyable and ever other good ajictive put thete
I read the sample and it was so great! i can't wait to buy this book.
This book is sooo awesome. I love Louisa May Alcotte. It is a nise story about a little girl who goes to live with her Uncles, Cousins, and Aunts on a hill and it tells how she affect the family...
I fell in love with darling little rose from the begining!! She is very relatable and love this little story!!!!!!
The typos can be distracting but this is my favorite book of all time. I have several copies and know the story so well that i can ignore many of the defivits of this electronic version. I loved this story as a child and still enjoy reading it today. Dont forget to read the sequel next!
I loved this book SO much! It was absolutely divine!! I love Louissa May Alcott! She writes SO lovely! I highly recomend this book! You won't be disapointed!! Once again, this was a great book!
this was such a good book highly recomended
I love any book by LMA and this is no exception. I highly reccomend it.
Great mood booster with great twists! I read this book because I thought that it would be good for me because of the author. The author is Louisa May Alcott, who wrote Little Women. Louisa writes her books very old school and complicated. It is a riddle to read. My fluency and vocabulary increased drastically just from reading this book. It was everything that I had hoped for. But it is at some parts hard to understand and you just want to give up. You have to constantly make the book your life center temporarily so that you can you can know exactly what is going on. This fictional book is about a girl named Rose. He father had recently died and she was sent to a place called the “aunt hill”. So naturally it is a hill in which all of her aunts live on. Some of her aunts pet her to death and some aunts are peaceful and knows what’s good for her. Unfortunately she is under the care of the dramatic and whiny aunts. But that soon changes when her dear uncle Alec comes and shows her simple treatments to become the girl she wants to be. Also on this hill, there are seven boy cousins called “the clan”. The rest of the book is about rose getting used to the crazy treatments of her uncle and the routy cousins and overbearing aunts. I enjoyed this book because it always has something happening instead of just monologue after monologue. There are sad times and triumphant times in the book. I can assure you that there are lot of trials in this book. Another reason why I like this book is the characters are so lovable. The adventurous uncle, the whiny aunts, the sweet maids are just so awesome! In conclusion, this book was really great because of all the characters and vocabulary and the twists. I would highly recommend sixth or seventh graders to read this book.
To this day, one of my favorite classic novels.