Mrs.
Bhaer lengthened her bonds so that she could look out of the window; and there she stood watching the boys play, and all the little summer creatures enjoying their liberty.

Daisy had a picnic for the dolls on the lawn, so that Nan might see the fun if she could not join in it.
Tommy turned his best somersaults to console her; Demi sat on the steps reading aloud to himself, which amused Nan a good deal; and Dan brought a little tree-toad to show her as the most delicate attention in his power.
But nothing atoned for the loss of freedom; and a few hours of confinement taught Nan how precious it was.

A good many thoughts went through the little head that lay on the window-sill during the last quiet hour when all the children went to the brook to see Emil's new ship launched.

She was to have christened it, and had depended on smashing a tiny bottle of currant-wine over the prow as it was named Josephine in honor of Mrs.Bhaer.Now she had lost her chance, and Daisy wouldn't do it half so well.

Tears rose to her eyes as she remembered that it was all her own fault; and she said aloud, addressing a fat bee who was rolling about in the yellow heart of a rose just under the window, "If you have run away, you'd better go right home, and tell your mother you are sorry, and never do so any more." "I am glad to hear you give him such good advice, and I think he has taken it," said Mrs.Jo, smiling, as the bee spread his dusty wings and flew away.
Nan brushed off a bright drop or two that shone on the window-sill, and nestled against her friend as she took her on her knee, adding kindly for she had seen the little drops, and knew what they meant, "Do you think my mother's cure for running away a good one ?" "Yes, ma'am," answered Nan, quite subdued by her quiet day.
"I hope I shall not have to try it again." "I guess not;" and Nan looked up with such an earnest little face that Mrs.Jo felt satisfied, and said no more, for she liked to have her penalties do their own work, and did not spoil the effect by too much moralizing.
Here Rob appeared, bearing with infinite care what Asia called a "sarcer pie," meaning one baked in a saucer.
"It's made out of some of my berries, and I'm going to give you half at supper-time," he announced with a flourish.
"What makes you, when I'm so naughty ?" asked Nan, meekly.
"Because we got lost together.