“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.

“It’s so dreadful to be poor!” sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress.

“I don’t think it’s fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all,” added little Amy, with an injured sniff.

“We’ve got Father and Mother, and each other,” said Beth contentedly from her corner.

“ˈkrɪsməs wəʊnt biː ˈkrɪsməs wɪˈðaʊt ˈɛni ˈprɛzᵊnts,” ˈɡrʌmbᵊld ʤəʊ, ˈlaɪɪŋ ɒn ðə rʌɡ.

“ɪts səʊ ˈdrɛdfᵊl tuː biː pɔː!” saɪd mɛɡ, ˈlʊkɪŋ daʊn æt hɜːr əʊld drɛs. 

“aɪ dəʊnt θɪŋk ɪts feə fɔː sʌm ɡɜːlz tuː hæv ˈplɛnti ɒv ˈprɪti θɪŋz, ænd ˈʌðə ɡɜːlz ˈnʌθɪŋ æt ɔːl,” ˈædɪd ˈlɪtᵊl ˈeɪmi, wɪð ən ˈɪnʤəd snɪf.

“wiːv ɡɒt ˈfɑːðər ænd ˈmʌðə, ænd iːʧ ˈʌðə,” sɛd bɛθ kənˈtɛntɪdli frɒm hɜː ˈkɔːnə. 

“ˈkrɪsməs woʊnt bi ˈkrɪsməs wɪˈθaʊt ˈɛni ˈprɛzənts,” ˈɡrʌmbəld ʤoʊ, ˈlaɪɪŋ ɑn ðə rʌɡ.

“ɪts soʊ ˈdrɛdfəl tu bi pʊr!” saɪd mɛɡ, ˈlʊkɪŋ daʊn æt hɜr oʊld drɛs.

“aɪ doʊnt θɪŋk ɪts fɛr fɔr sʌm ɡɜrlz tu hæv ˈplɛnti ʌv ˈprɪti θɪŋz, ænd ˈʌðər ɡɜrlz ˈnʌθɪŋ æt ɔl,” ˈædɪd ˈlɪtəl ˈeɪmi, wɪð ən ˈɪnʤərd snɪf.

“wiv ɡɑt ˈfɑðər ænd ˈmʌðər, ænd iʧ ˈʌðər,” sɛd bɛθ kənˈtɛntədli frʌm hɜr ˈkɔrnər.