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"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.

"It's so dreadful to be poor!" sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress.

"I don't think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all," added little Amy, with an injured sniff.

"We've got Father and Mother, and each other," said Beth contentedly from her corner.

For a moment the four young faces brightened in the firelight. Then Jo said quietly, "We haven't got Father, and we shan't have him for a long time." She did not add "perhaps never," but each of them thought it, picturing him far away in the South, where the war was being fought.

Meg explained, in a softer voice, why there were to be no presents that winter. Their mother felt it was wrong to spend money on pleasure while men were suffering in the army. "We can't do much," Meg admitted, "but we can make our little sacrifices, and we ought to make them gladly. I'm afraid I don't, though."