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 papers , 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 . `` Oh , oh , oh ! What have you done ? I 'm spoiled ! I ca n't go ! My hair , oh , my hair ! '' wailed Meg , looking with despair at the uneven frizzle on her forehead . `` Just my luck ! You should n't have asked me to do it . I always spoil everything . I 'm so sorry , but the tongs were too hot , and so I 've made a mess , '' groaned poor Jo , regarding the little black pancakes with tears of regret . `` It is n't spoiled . Just frizzle it , and tie your ribbon so the ends come on your forehead a bit , and it will look like the last fashion .
I 've seen many girls do it so , '' said XXXXX consolingly .
Amy Beth Jo Meg air feathers frizzle hairdresser locks pancakes