Hello.
Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph.
A romantic bedtime podcast guaranteed to help you drift off into a calm relaxing sleep.
Come with me as we go back in time to visit Katie Carr.
She is all grown up now but she still has the same trials and tribulations she had as a child.
But before we begin let's take the time to focus on where we are now.
Take a deep breath in through your nose.
Take a deep breath in through your nose.
That's it.
Then let it out on a long sigh.
It is time to relax and really let go.
Feel yourself sink into the support beneath you.
And let the pressures of the day seep away.
Happy listening.
What Katie Did Next by Susan Coolidge Read and abridged by Stephanie Poppins Chapter Three Rose and Rosebud Thirty-six hours later the Albany train,
Running smoothly across the green levels beyond the Mill Dam,
Brought the travellers to Boston.
Katie looked eagerly from the window for her first glimpse of the city which she had heard so much.
Dear little Boston,
How nice it is to see it again,
She heard a lady behind her say.
But why it should be called Little Boston she could not imagine.
Seen from the train it looked large,
Imposing and very picturesque,
After flat Burnett with its one bank down to the edge of the lake.
She studied the towers,
Steeples and red roofs,
Crowding each other up the slopes of the Tri Mountain and the big state house dome crowning all,
And made up her mind she liked the looks of it better than any other city she had ever seen.
The train slackened its speed,
Ran for a few moments between rows of tall,
Shabby brick walls,
And with a long final screech of its whistle came to a halt in the station house.
Everyone made a simultaneous rush for the door and Katie and Mrs Ash,
Waiting to collect their books and bags,
Found themselves wedged into their seats and unable to get out.
It was a confusing moment and not comfortable,
Such moments never are.
But the discomfort brightened into a sense of relief,
As looking out of the window,
Katie caught sight of a face exactly opposite,
Which had evidently caught sight of her.
A fresh,
Pretty face,
With light waving hair,
Pink cheeks all a dimple and eyes which shone with laughter and welcome.
It was Rose herself,
Not a big change during the year since they parted.
A tall young man stood beside her,
Who must of course be her husband,
Deniston Brown.
There is Rose Red,
Cried Katie to Mrs Ash,
Doesn't she look dear and natural,
Do wait and let me introduce you,
I want you to know her.
But the train had come in a little behind time and Mrs Ash was afraid of missing the Hingham boat,
So she only took a hasty peep from the window and pronounced Rose to be charming looking.
Then she kissed Katie hurriedly,
Reminded her they must be on the steamer punctually,
And was gone with Amy beside her.
So that Katie,
Following last of all the slow moving passengers,
Stepped all alone down from the platform into the arms of Rose Red.
You darling,
Was Rose's first greeting.
I began to think you meant to spend the night in the car you were so long in getting out.
How perfectly lovely this is.
Deniston,
Here is Katie.
Katie,
This is my husband.
Rose looked about 15 as she spoke,
And so absurdly young to have a husband.
That Katie could not help laughing as she shook hands with Deniston.
He looks very nice indeed as far as I can judge in three minutes and a quarter,
She declared.
My dear,
Said Rose,
It ought not to take anybody of ordinary discernment a minute and a quarter to perceive he is simply the dearest fellow that ever lived.
I discovered it three seconds after I first beheld him,
And I was desperately in love before he'd fairly finished his first bow after introduction.
And was he equally prompt?
Asked Katie.
He said so,
Replied Rose with a pretty blush.
But then you know he could hardly say less after such a frank confession on my part.
Now Katie,
Look at Boston and see if you don't love it.
The cab had now turned into Boylston Street,
And on the right hand lay the common,
Green as summer after the autumn rains,
With the elm arches leafy still.
Long slant beams of afternoon sun were filtering through the boughs,
And falling across the turf and the paths,
Where people were walking and sitting,
And children and babies were playing together.
It was a delightful scene,
And Katie received an impression of space and cheer,
And air and freshness,
Which ever after was associated with her recollection of Boston.
Rose was quite satisfied with her raptures as they drove through Charles Street,
Between the common and the public garden,
All ablaze with autumn flowers,
And down the length of Beacon Street,
With a blue bay shining between the handsome houses on the water's side.
Every vestibule and bay window was gay with potted plants and flower boxes,
And a concourse of happy-looking people on foot,
On horseback,
And in carriages,
Were surging to and fro like an equal prosperous tide,
While the sunlight glorified all.
Boston shows a soft Venetian side,
Quoted Katie after a while.
I know now what Mr Lovell meant when he wrote that.
I don't believe there's a more beautiful place in the world.
Why,
Of course there isn't,
Retorted Rose,
Who was a most devoted little Bostonian,
In spite of the fact she'd lived in Washington nearly all her life.
I've not seen much beside,
To be sure,
But that's no matter.
I know it's true.
It's the dream of my life to come into the city to live.
I don't care what part I live in,
West End,
South End,
North End.
It's all one to me,
As long as it's Boston.
But don't you like Longwood?
Asked Katie,
Looking out admiringly at the pretty places set amidst vines and shrubberies.
It looks so very pretty and pleasant.
Yes,
It's well enough for anyone who's got a taste for natural beauties,
Replied Rose.
I haven't.
I never had.
There's nothing I hate so much as nature.
I'm a born Cockney.
I'd rather live in one room over Jordan and marshes and see the world wag past than be the owner of the most romantic villa that ever was built.
I don't care where it may be situated.
The cab now turned in at a gate and followed a curving drive bordered with trees to a pretty stone house with a porch embowered with Virginia creepers,
Before which it stopped.
Here we are,
Cried Rose,
Springing out.
Now,
Katie,
You mustn't even take time to sit down before I show you the dearest baby that ever was sent to this sinful earth.
Let me take your bag,
Come upstairs and I'll exhibit her to you.
They ran up accordingly and Rose took Katie into a large,
Sunny nursery,
Where,
Tied with pink ribbon into a little basket chair and watched over by a pretty young nurse sat a dear,
Fat,
Fair baby,
So exactly like Rose in miniature.
No one could possibly have mistaken the relationship.
The baby began to laugh.
The nurse said,
The baby began to laugh and coo as soon as it caught sight of its gay little mother and exhibited such another dimple as hers in the middle of a pink cheek.
Katie was enchanted.
Oh,
You darling,
She said.
Would she come to me,
Do you think,
Rose?
Of course she shall,
Replied Rose,
Picking up the baby as if she'd been a pillow and stuffing her into Katie's arms head first.
Now just look at her and tell me if you ever saw anything so enchanting in the whole course of your life.
Little Rose was indeed a delicious baby and Katie wanted to hold her all the time,
But this Rose would by no means permit.
In fact,
I may as well say at once,
The two girls spent a great part of their time fighting for possession of the baby.
I was never allowed as much doll as I wanted in my infancy,
Said Rose.
I suppose I tore them to pieces too soon.
Were you such a very bad child,
Asked Katie.
Oh,
Utterly depraved,
I believe.
You wouldn't think that now,
Would you?
I recall some dreadful occasions at school.
Once I had my head pinned up in my apron because I would make faces at the other scholars.
Then I promptly bit a bay window through the apron and ran my tongue out of it till they laughed even more.
The teacher used to send me home with notes passed into my pinafore.
Little Frisk has become more troublesome than usual today,
They would say.
She's pinched all the younger children and bent the bonnets of all the older ones.
Why did they call you Little Frisk?
Inquired Katie.
It was a term of endearment,
I suppose,
Said Rose,
But somehow my family never seemed to enjoy it as they ought.
Why,
I had not sense enough to suppress those awful little notes.
It would have been so easy to lose them on the way home,
But somehow it never occurred to me.
My little Rose will be wiser than that,
Won't you,
My angel?
She said,
Looking at the baby.
Now,
Katie,
She added,
Settling herself in,
Let's have a chat.
So they did.
Interrupted only by baby Rose's coos and splutters until the dusk fell and appetising smells floated from through the rear of the house and the click of a latch key announced Mr.
Brown come home just in time for dinner.
The two days visit went only too quickly.
There is nothing more fascinating to a girl than a young couple of her own age.
It's a sort of playing at real life without the cares and sense of responsibility real life is sure to bring.
Rose proved an adventurous housekeeper.
She was still new to the position and she found it very entertaining.
They also owned a dog who was less dear than the baby,
A cat only less dear than the dog,
A parrot whose education required constant supervision,
And a hutch of ringed doves whose melancholy little watering coos were the delight of Rose the less.
The house seemed to stir with young life all over and Katie felt quite an old experienced person amid all this movement and liveliness.
No time must be lost in showing Boston to Katie,
Said Rose,
The next day so she was taken in to see the sights.
There were not quite so many to be seen as there are today.
The art museum had not got above much of its foundations,
The new Trinity Church was still in the future,
But the big organ and bronze statue of Beethoven was still in their glory and every high day at noon a small straggling audience wandered into the music hall to hear the instrument played.
Katie was charmed by all she had seen.
The delightful nearness of so many interesting things surprised her.
The Common and its surrounding streets made a natural centre and rallying point for the whole city and the stately old houses on Beacon Street with their rounded fronts,
Deep window casements and here and there a mauve or lilac pane set in the sashes took Katie's fancy greatly.
So did the state house whose situation made it sufficiently imposing even before the gilding of the dome.
And now to see Grandmama,
Declared Rose.
She carried a latch key in her pocket which she said had been one of her wedding gifts.
With this she unlocked the front door to an old house and let Katie into a roomy white painted hall.
We'll go straight through to the back steps,
She said.
Mama's sure to be sitting there,
She always sits there till the first frost.
And there she was,
Mrs Redding,
Found sitting in a wicker work chair under the shade of the grape vines.
She was a fair little woman,
Scarcely taller than Rose and very much alike.
She gave Katie a kind welcome.
Indeed there was something restful in the sight of such a lovely specimen of old age.
Katie sat and gazed at her with a mixture of regret and fascination.
She longed to hold her hand and kiss her and play with her beautiful silvery hair as Rose did.
Grandmama has taken a fancy to you,
I can see,
Rose told Katie as they drove back to Longwood.
She always wants to know my friends and has her own opinions about them,
I can tell you.
Do you really think she liked me?
Said Katie warmly.
I'm so glad if she did for I loved her.
There's nobody like her,
Rejoined Rose.
I can't imagine what it would be like not to have her.
The next day,
Katie and Rose went early into town for old Mrs Redding had made Katie promise to come to her for a few minutes to say goodbye.
They found her sitting by the fire as usual,
Though her windows were open to admit to the sun-warmed air.
A little basket of grapes stood on the table beside her with a nosegay of tea roses on top.
A little basket of grapes stood on the table beside her with a nosegay of tea roses on top.
These were from Rose's mother for Katie to take on board the steamer.
And there was something else,
A small parcel twisted up in thin white paper.
It's my goodbye gift,
Said the dear old lady.
Don't open it now.
Keep it till you're well enough and out at sea and get some little thing as a keepsake from me.
Grateful and wondering,
Katie put the little parcel in her pocket.
With kisses and good wishes,
She parted from these new made friends and she and Rose drove to the steamer,
Stopping for Mr Brown by the way.
They were a little late,
So there was not much time for farewells after they arrived,
But Rose snatched a moment for a private interview with a stewardess,
Unnoticed by Katie,
Who was busy with Mrs Ash and Amy.
Then the bell rang and the great steam vessel slowly backed into the stream.
Then her head was turned to sea and down the bay she went,
Leaving Rose and her husband still waving their handkerchiefs on the pier as Katie watched them to last.
And when she could no longer distinguish them,
She felt her final link with home had been broken.
It was not until she'd settled her things in the little cabin,
Which was to be her home for the next 10 days,
Had put her bonnet and dress for safekeeping in the upper berth,
Nailed her red and yellow bag up and donned the woolen gown,
Ulster and soft felt hat,
Which were to do service during the voyage,
That she found time to examine the mysterious parcel.
Behold,
It was a large,
Beautiful gold piece.
Twenty dollars!
What a darling old lady,
Said Katie to herself,
And she gave the gold piece a kiss.
How did she come to think of such a thing?
I wonder if there's anything in Europe good enough for me to buy with it?
