KATY CARR - Complete Illustrated Series: What Katy Did, What Katy Did at School, What Katy Did Next, Clover, In the High Valley & Curly Locks
I was thrown most in a fit,
And I let the india-rubbers fall –
All but this little bit.
“I’m sorry for my naughty ways,
And now, to make amends,
I send the chewed piece back again,
And beg we may be friends.
“ROBBER.”
“Just listen to mine,” said Cecy, who had all along pretended to be as much surprised as anybody, and now behaved as if she could hardly wait till Philly’s was finished. Then she read aloud:
“TO CECY.
“If I were a bird,
And you were a bird,
What would we do?
Why you should be little and I would be big,
And, side by side on a cherry-tree twig,
We’d kiss with our yellow bills, and coo –
That’s what we’d do!
“If I were a fish
And you were a fish,
What would we do?
We’d frolic, and whisk our little tails,
And play all sorts of tricks with the whales,
And call on the oysters, and order a ‘stew,’
That’s what we’d do!
“If I were a bee
And you were a bee,
What would we do?
We’d find a home in a breezy wood,
And store it with honey sweet and good.
You should feed me and I should feed you,
That’s what we’d do!
“VALENTINE.”
“I think that’s the prettiest of all,” said Clover.
“I don’t,” said Elsie. “I think mine is the prettiest. Cecy didn’t have any seal in hers, either.” And she fondled the little seal, which all this time she had held in her hand.
“Katy, you ought to have read yours first, because you are the oldest,” said Clover.
“Mine isn’t much,” replied Katy, and she read:
“The rose is red, the violet blue,
Sugar is sweet, and so are you.”
“What a mean valentine!” cried Elsie, with flashing eyes. “It’s a real shame, Katy! You ought to have had the best of all.”
Katy could hardly keep from laughing. The fact was that the verses for the others had taken so long that no time had been left for writing a valentine to herself. So, thinking it would excite suspicion to have none, she had scribbled this old rhyme at the last moment.
“It isn’t very nice,” she said, trying to look as pensive as she could, “but never mind.”
“It’s a shame!” repeated Elsie, petting her very hard to make up for the injustice.
“Hasn’t it been a funny evening?” said John; and Dorry replied, “Yes; we never had such good times before Katy was sick, did we?”
Katy heard this with a mingled feeling of pleasure and pain. “I think the children do love me a little more of late,” she said to herself. “But, oh, why couldn’t I be good to them when I was well and strong!”
She didn’t open Cousin Helen’s letter until the rest were all gone to bed. I think somebody must have written and told about the valentine party, for instead of a note there were these verses in Cousin Helen’s own clear, pretty hand. It wasn’t a valentine, because it was too solemn, as Katy explained to Clover next day. “But,” she added, “it is a great deal beautifuller than any valentine that ever was written.” And Clover thought so too.
These were the verses:
“IN SCHOOL.
“I used to go to a bright school
Where Youth and Frolic taught in turn;
But idle scholar that I was,
I liked to play, I would not learn;
So the Great Teacher did ordain
That I should try the School of Pain.
“One of the infant class I am
With little, easy lessons, set
In a great book; the higher class
Have harder ones than I, and yet
I find mine hard, and can’t restrain
My tears while studying thus with Pain.
“There are two teachers in the school,
One has a gentle voice and low,
And smiles upon her scholars, as
She softly passes to and fro.
Her name is Love; ‘tis very plain
She shuns the sharper teacher, Pain.
“Or so I sometimes think; and then,
At other times, they meet and kiss,
And look so strangely like, that I
Am puzzled to tell how it is,
Or whence the change which makes it vain
To guess if it be – Love or Pain.
“They tell me if I study well,
And learn my lessons, I shall be
Moved upward to that higher class
Where dear Love teaches constantly;
And I work hard, in hopes to gain
Reward, and get away from Pain.
“Yet Pain is sometimes kind, and helps
Me on when I am very dull;
I thank him often in my heart;
But Love is far more beautiful;
Under her tender, gentle reign
I must learn faster than of Pain.
“So I will do my very best,
Nor chide the clock, nor call it slow;
That when the Teacher calls me up
To see if I am fit to go,
I may to Love’s high class attain,
And bid a sweet good-by to Pain.”
Chapter XI.
A New Lesson to Learn
It was a long time before the children ceased to talk and laugh over that jolly evening. Dorry declared he wished there could be a Valentine’s-Day every week.
“Don’t you think St Valentine would be tired of writing verses?” asked Katy. But she too had enjoyed the frolic, and the bright recollection helped her along through the rest of the long, cold winter.
Spring opened late that year, but the Summer, when it came, was a warm one. Katy felt the heat very much. She could not change her seat and follow the breeze about from window to window as other people could. The long burning days left her weak and parched. She hung her head, and seemed to wilt like the flowers in the garden-beds. Indeed she was worse off than they, for every evening Alexander gave them a watering with the hose, while nobody was able to bring a watering-pot and pour out what she needed – a shower of cold,