It was easy to keep her secret , for no name appeared with her stories . Mr. Dashwood had of course found it out very soon , but promised to be dumb , and for a wonder kept his word . She thought it would do her no harm , for she sincerely meant to write nothing of which she would be ashamed , and quieted all pricks of conscience by anticipations of the happy minute when she should show her earnings and laugh over her well-kept secret . But Mr. Dashwood rejected any but thrilling tales , and as thrills could not be produced except by harrowing up the souls of the readers , history and romance , land and sea , science and art , police records and lunatic asylums , had to be ransacked for the purpose . Jo soon found that her innocent experience had given her but few glimpses of the tragic world which underlies society , so regarding it in a business light , she set about supplying her deficiencies with characteristic energy . Eager to find material for stories , and bent on making them original in plot , if not masterly in execution , she searched newspapers for accidents , incidents , and crimes . She excited the suspicions of public librarians by asking for works on poisons . She studied faces in the street , and characters , good , bad , and indifferent , all about her . She delved in the dust of ancient times for facts or fictions so old that they were as good as new , and introduced herself to folly , sin , and misery , as well as her limited opportunities allowed . She thought she was prospering finely , but unconsciously she was beginning to desecrate some of the womanliest attributes of a woman 's character . She was living in bad society , and imaginary though it was , its influence affected her , for she was feeding heart and fancy on dangerous and unsubstantial food , and was fast brushing the innocent bloom from her nature by a premature acquaintance with the darker side of life , which comes soon enough to all of us . She was beginning to feel rather than see this , for much describing of other people 's passions and feelings set her to studying and speculating about her own , a morbid amusement in which healthy young minds do not voluntarily indulge . Wrongdoing always brings its own punishment , and when Jo most needed hers , she got it . I do n't know whether the study of Shakespeare helped her to read character , or the natural instinct of a woman for what was honest , brave , and strong , but while endowing her imaginary heroes with every perfection under the sun , Jo was discovering a live hero , who interested her in spite of many human imperfections . Mr. Bhaer , in one of their conversations , had advised her to study simple , true , and lovely characters , wherever she found them , as good training for a writer . Jo took him at his word , for she coolly turned round and studied him -- a proceeding which would have much surprised him , had he known it , for the worthy Professor was very humble in his own conceit . Why everybody liked him was what puzzled Jo , at first . He was neither rich nor great , young nor handsome , in no respect what is called fascinating , imposing , or brilliant , and yet he was as attractive as a genial fire , and people seemed to gather about him as naturally as about a warm hearth . He was poor , yet always appeared to be giving something away ; a stranger , yet everyone was his friend ; no longer young , but as happy-hearted as a boy ; plain and peculiar , yet his face looked beautiful to many , and his oddities were freely forgiven for his sake . Jo often watched him , trying to discover the charm , and at last decided that it was benevolence which worked the miracle .
If he had any sorrow , ` it sat with its head under its wing ' , and he XXXXX only his sunny side to the world .
allowed brave endowing giving imposing introduced regarding searched thought turned