`` Then I 'll go without . I do n't care what people say ! '' cried Jo , taking up her book . `` You may have it , you may ! Only do n't stain it , and do behave nicely . Do n't put your hands behind you , or stare , or say ` Christopher Columbus ! ' will you ? '' `` Do n't worry about me . I 'll be as prim as I can and not get into any scrapes , if I can help it . Now go and answer your note , and let me finish this splendid story . '' So Meg went away to ` accept with thanks ' , look over her dress , and sing blithely as she did up her one real lace frill , while Jo finished her story , her four apples , and had a game of romps with Scrabble . On New Year 's Eve the parlor was deserted , for the two younger girls played dressing maids and the two elder were absorbed in the all-important business of ` getting ready for the party ' . Simple as the toilets were , there was a great deal of running up and down , laughing and talking , and at one time a strong smell of burned hair pervaded the house . Meg wanted a few curls about her face , and Jo undertook to pinch the papered locks with a pair of hot tongs . `` Ought they to smoke like that ? '' asked Beth from her perch on the bed . `` It 's the dampness drying , '' replied Jo . `` What a queer smell ! It 's like burned feathers , '' observed Amy , smoothing her own pretty curls with a superior air . `` There , now I 'll take off the papers and you 'll see a cloud of little ringlets , '' said Jo , putting down the tongs .
She did take off the XXXXX , but no cloud of ringlets appeared , for the hair came with the papers , and the horrified hairdresser laid a row of little scorched bundles on the bureau before her victim .
cloud game hands locks note pair papers people ringlets story