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The Floating Press - Susan Coolidge

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113 pages

English

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Times were tough for tomboys in nineteenth-century America. In an era during which the prescribed notions of proper behavior for women and girls were much stricter than they are today, the rough-and-tumble types who couldn't get enough of team sports and the great outdoors were often shunned. This fun and engaging juvenile novel is a great introduction to the period for young readers and adults alike.

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Children's

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 janvier 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781775450818
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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WHAT KATY DID
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SUSAN COOLIDGE

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What Katy Did First published in 1872 ISBN 978-1-775450-81-8 © 2011 The Floating Press While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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To Five Chapter I - The Little Carrs Chapter II - Paradise Chapter III - The Day of Scrapes Chapter IV - Kikeri Chapter V - In the Loft Chapter VI - Intimate Friends Chapter VII - Cousin Helen's Visit Chapter VIII - To-Morrow Chapter IX - Dismal Days Chapter X - St. Nicholas and St. Valentine Chapter XI - A New Lesson to Learn Chapter XII - Two Years Afterward Chapter XIII - At Last
To Five
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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.
Chapter I - The Little Carrs
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I was sitting in the meadows one day, not long ago, at a place wherethere was a small brook. It was a hot day. The sky was very blue, andwhite clouds, like great swans, went floating over it to and fro. Justopposite me was a clump of green rushes, with dark velvety spikes, andamong them one single tall, red cardinal flower, which was bending overthe brook as if to see its own beautiful face in the water. But thecardinal 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'ttell exactly which it was. One voice was shrill; the other, which was alittle deeper, sounded very positive and cross. They were evidentlydisputing about something, for they said the same words over and overagain. These were the words—"Katy did." "Katy didn't." "She did." "Shedidn't." "She did." "She didn't." "Did." "Didn't." I think they musthave repeated them at least a hundred times.
I got up from my seat to see if I could find the speakers; and sureenough, there on one of the cat-tail bulrushes, I spied two tinypale-green creatures. Their eyes seemed to be weak, for they both woreblack goggles. They had six legs apiece,—two short ones, two not soshort, and two very long. These last legs had joints like the springs tobuggy-tops; and as I watched, they began walking up the rush, and then Isaw that they moved exactly like an old-fashioned gig. In fact, if Ihadn't been too big, I think I should have heard them creak as theywent along. They didn't say anything so long as I was there, but themoment my back was turned they began to quarrel again, and in the sameold words—"Katy did." "Katy didn't." "She did." "She didn't."
As I walked home I fell to thinking about another Katy,—a Katy I onceknew, who planned to do a great many wonderful things, and in the enddid none of them, but something quite different,—something she didn'tlike at all at first, but which, on the whole, was a great deal betterthan any of the doings she had dreamed about. And as I thought, thislittle story grew in my head, and I resolved to write it down for you. Ihave done it; and, in memory of my two little friends on the bulrush, Igive it their name. Here it is—the story of What Katy Did.
Katy's name was Katy Carr. She lived in the town of Burnet, which wasn'ta very big town, but was growing as fast as it knew how. The house shelived in stood on the edge of the town. It was a large square house,white, with green blinds, and had a porch in front, over which roses andclematis made a thick bower. Four tall locust trees shaded the gravelpath which led to the front gate. On one side of the house was anorchard; on the other side were wood piles and barns, and an ice-house.Behind was a kitchen garden sloping to the south; and behind that apasture with a brook in it, and butternut trees, and four cows—two redones, a yellow one with sharp horns tipped with tin, and a dear littlewhite one named Daisy.
There were six of the Carr children—four girls and two boys. Katy, theoldest, was twelve years old; little Phil, the youngest, was four, andthe rest fitted in between.
Dr. Carr, their Papa, was a dear, kind, busy man, who was away from homeall day, and sometimes all night, too, taking care of sick people. Thechildren hadn't any Mamma. She had died when Phil was a baby, four yearsbefore my story began. Katy could remember her pretty well; to the restshe was but a sad, sweet name, spoken on Sunday, and at prayer-times, orwhen Papa was especially gentle and solemn.
In place of this Mamma, whom they recollected so dimly, there was AuntIzzie, Papa's sister, who came to take care of them when Mamma went awayon that long journey, from which, for so many months, the little oneskept hoping she might return. Aunt Izzie was a small woman, sharp-facedand thin, rather old-looking, and very neat and particular abouteverything. She meant to be kind to the children, but they puzzled hermuch, because they were not a bit like herself when she was a child.Aunt Izzie had been a gentle, tidy little thing, who loved to sit asCurly Locks did, sewing long seams in the parlor, and to have her headpatted by older people, and be told that she was a good girl; whereasKaty tore her dress every day, hated sewing, and didn't care a buttonabout being called "good," while Clover and Elsie shied off likerestless ponies when any one tried to pat their heads. It was veryperplexing to Aunt Izzie, and she found it hard to quite forgive thechildren for being so "unaccountable," and so little like the good boysand girls in Sunday-school memoirs, who were the young people she likedbest, and understood most about.
Then Dr. Carr was another person who worried her. He wished to have thechildren hardy and bold, and encouraged climbing and rough plays, inspite of the bumps and ragged clothes which resulted. In fact, there wasjust one half-hour of the day when Aunt Izzie was really satisfied abouther charges, and that was the half-hour before breakfast, when she hadmade a law that they were all to sit in their little chairs and learnthe Bible verse for the day. At this time she looked at them withpleased eyes, they were all so spick and span, with such nicely-brushedjackets and such neatly-combed hair. But the moment the bell rang hercomfort was over. From that time on, they were what she called "not fitto be seen." The neighbors pitied her very much. They used to count thesixty stiff white pantalette legs hung out to dry every Monday morning,and say to each other what a sight of washing those children made, andwhat a chore it must be for poor Miss Carr to keep them so nice. Butpoor Miss Carr didn't think them at all nice; that was the worst of it.
"Clover, go up stairs and wash your hands! Dorry, pick your hat off thefloor and hang it on the nail! Not that nail—the third nail from thecorner!" These were the kind of things Aunt Izzie was saying all daylong. The children minded her pretty well, but they didn't exactly loveher, I fear. They called her "Aunt Izzie" always, never "Aunty." Boysand girls will know what that meant.
I want to show you the little Carrs, and I don't know that I could everhave a better chance than one day when five out of the six were perchedon top of the ice-house, like chickens on a roost. This ice-house wasone of their favorite places. It was only a low roof set over a hole inthe ground, and, as it stood in the middle of the side-yard, it alwaysseemed to the children that the shortest road to every place was up oneof its slopes and down the other. They also liked to mount to theridge-pole, and then, still keeping the sitting position, to let go, andscrape slowly down over the warm shingles to the ground. It was bad fortheir shoes and trousers, of course, but what of that? Shoes andtrousers, and clothes generally, were Aunt Izzie's affair; theirs was toslide and enjoy themselves.
Clover, next in age to Katy, sat in the middle. She was a fair, sweetdumpling of a girl, with thick pig-tails of light brown hair, andshort-sighted blue eyes, which seemed to hold tears, just ready to fallfrom under the blue. Really, Clover was the jolliest little thing in theworld; but these eyes, and her soft cooing voice, always made peoplefeel like petting her and taking her part. Once, when she was verysmall, she ran away with Katy's doll, and when Katy pursued, and triedto t