She did not like it , but the impulse that made her turn it over was not one of displeasure but fear , because for a minute she fancied the paper was the Volcano . It was not , however , and her panic subsided as she remembered that even if it had been and one of her own tales in it , there would have been no name to betray her . She had betrayed herself , however , by a look and a blush , for though an absent man , the Professor saw a good deal more than people fancied . He knew that Jo wrote , and had met her down among the newspaper offices more than once , but as she never spoke of it , he asked no questions in spite of a strong desire to see her work . Now it occurred to him that she was doing what she was ashamed to own , and it troubled him . He did not say to himself , `` It is none of my business . I 've no right to say anything , '' as many people would have done . He only remembered that she was young and poor , a girl far away from mother 's love and father 's care , and he was moved to help her with an impulse as quick and natural as that which would prompt him to put out his hand to save a baby from a puddle . All this flashed through his mind in a minute , but not a trace of it appeared in his face , and by the time the paper was turned , and Jo 's needle threaded , he was ready to say quite naturally , but very gravely ... `` Yes , you are right to put it from you . I do not think that good young girls should see such things . They are made pleasant to some , but I would more rather give my boys gunpowder to play with than this bad trash . '' `` All may not be bad , only silly , you know , and if there is a demand for it , I do n't see any harm in supplying it . Many very respectable people make an honest living out of what are called sensation stories , '' said Jo , scratching gathers so energetically that a row of little slits followed her pin . `` There is a demand for whisky , but I think you and I do not care to sell it . If the respectable people knew what harm they did , they would not feel that the living was honest . They haf no right to put poison in the sugarplum , and let the small ones eat it . No , they should think a little , and sweep mud in the street before they do this thing . '' Mr. Bhaer spoke warmly , and walked to the fire , crumpling the paper in his hands . Jo sat still , looking as if the fire had come to her , for her cheeks burned long after the cocked hat had turned to smoke and gone harmlessly up the chimney . `` I should like much to send all the rest after him , '' muttered the Professor , coming back with a relieved air .
XXXXX thought what a blaze her pile of papers upstairs would make , and her hard-earned money lay rather heavily on her conscience at that minute .
Bhaer Jo Professor Volcano fire hands minute puddle right sugarplum