



Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Suzanne L. Shell, Charles
Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team










WHAT KATY DID

By

SUSAN COOLIDGE

With Frontispiece in Color by Ralph Pallen Coleman





TO FIVE.


  Six of us once, my darlings, played together
    Beneath green boughs, which faded long ago,
  Made merry in the golden summer weather,
    Pelted each other with new-fallen snow.

  Did the sun always shine? I can't remember
    A single cloud that dimmed the happy blue,--
  A single lightning-bolt or peal of thunder,
    To daunt our bright, unfearing lives: can you?

  We quarrelled often, but made peace as quickly,
    Shed many tears, but laughed the while they fell,
  Had our small woes, our childish bumps and bruises,
    But Mother always "kissed and made them well."

  Is it long since?--it seems a moment only:
    Yet here we are in bonnets and tail-coats,
  Grave men of business, members of committees,
    Our play-time ended: even Baby votes!

  And star-eyed children, in whose innocent faces
    Kindles the gladness which was once our own,
  Crowd round our knees, with sweet and coaxing voices,
    Asking for stories of that old-time home.

  "Were _you_ once little too?" they say, astonished;
    "Did you too play? How funny! tell us how."
  Almost we start, forgetful for a moment;
    Almost we answer, "We are little _now!_"

  Dear friend and lover, whom to-day we christen,
    Forgive such brief bewilderment,--thy true
  And kindly hand we hold; we own thee fairest.
    But ah! our yesterday was precious too.

  So, darlings, take this little childish story,
    In which some gleams of the old sunshine play,
  And, as with careless hands you turn the pages,
    Look back and smile, as here I smile to-day.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER

I THE LITTLE CARRS

II PARADISE

III THE DAY OF SCRAPES

IV KIKERI

V IN THE LOFT

VI INTIMATE FRIENDS

VII COUSIN HELEN'S VISIT

VIII TO-MORROW

IX DISMAL DAYS

X ST. NICHOLAS AND ST. VALENTINE

XI A NEW LESSON TO LEARN

XII TWO YEARS AFTERWARD

XIII AT LAST






CHAPTER I

THE LITTLE CARRS


I was sitting in the meadows one day, not long ago, at a place where
there was a small brook. It was a hot day. The sky was very blue, and
white clouds, like great swans, went floating over it to and fro. Just
opposite me was a clump of green rushes, with dark velvety spikes, and
among them one single tall, red cardinal flower, which was bending over
the brook as if to see its own beautiful face in the water. But the
cardinal did not seem to be vain.

The picture was so pretty that I sat a long time enjoying it. Suddenly,
close to me, two small voices began to talk--or to sing, for I couldn't
tell exactly which it was. One voice was shrill; the other, which was a
little deeper, sounded very positive and cross. They were evidently
disputing about something, for they said the same words over and over
again. These were the words--"Katy did." "Katy didn't." "She did." "She
didn't." "She did." "She didn't." "Did." "Didn't." I think they must
have repeated them at least a hundred times.

I got up from my seat to see if I could find the speakers; and sure
enough, there on one of the cat-tail bulrushes, I spied two tiny
pale-green creatures. Their eyes seemed to be weak, for they both wore
black goggles. They had six legs apiece,--two short ones, two not so
short, and two very long. These last legs had joints like the springs to
buggy-tops; and as I watched, they began walking up the rush, and then I
saw that they moved exactly like an old-fashioned gig. In fact, if I
hadn't been too big, I _think_ I should have heard them creak as they
went along. They didn't say anything so long as I was there, but the
moment my back was turned they began to quarrel again, and in