What Katy Did Part 6: Bedtime Story

Hello beloveds.

This is my reading of part six of What Katy Did, by Susan Coolidge.

I loved reading this so I hope you enjoy listening dear ones.

This is a delightful story following the adventures of a twelve-year-old girl, Katy Carr, and her family who live in the fictional lakeside Ohio town of Burnet in the 1860s. Katy is a tall, untidy tomboy, forever getting into scrapes but wishing to be beautiful and beloved. Our story follows the adventures of Katy as she learns some very important life lessons.

Have a beautiful day.

Transcript

Hello,

Dear ones,

And welcome to today's reading,

What Katie Did.

Chapter Six Aunt Izzy,

May I ask Imogen Clark to spend the day here on Saturday?

Cried Katie,

Bursting in one afternoon.

Who on earth is Imogen Clark?

I never heard the name before,

Replied her aunt.

Oh,

The loveliest girl.

She hasn't been going to Mrs.

Knight's school but a little while,

But we're the greatest friends,

And she's perfectly beautiful,

Aunt Izzy.

Her hands are just as white as snow,

And no bigger than that.

I don't believe she has a bit of a good time at home,

Either.

Oh,

Please do let me ask her.

How do you know she's so sweet and self-denying,

If you've known her such a short time?

Asked Aunt Izzy,

In an unpromising tone.

Oh,

She tells me everything.

We always walk together at recess now.

I know all about her,

And she's just lovely.

Her father used to be real rich,

But they're poor now,

And Imogen had to have her boots patched up twice last winter.

I guess she's the flower of her family.

Oh,

You can't think how I love her,

Concluded Katie,

Sentimentally.

No,

I can't,

Said Aunt Izzy.

I never could see into these sudden friendships of yours,

Katie,

And I'd rather you wouldn't invite this Imogen,

Or whatever her name is,

Till I've had a chance to ask somebody about her.

Katie clasped her hands in despair.

Oh,

Aunt Izzy,

She cried.

Imogen knows that I came in to ask you,

And she's standing at the gate at this moment,

Waiting to hear what you say.

Oh,

Please let me,

Just this once.

I shall be so dreadfully ashamed not to.

Well,

Said Miss Izzy,

Moved by the wretchedness of Katie's face.

If you've already asked her,

It's no use me saying no.

But recollect,

Katie,

This is not to happen again.

I can't have you inviting girls and then coming for my leave.

Your father won't be at all pleased.

He's very particular about whom you make friends with.

Remember how Mrs.

Spencer turned out?

Poor Katie.

Her propensity to fall violently in love with new people was always getting her into scrapes.

Ever since she began to walk and talk,

Katie's intimate friends had been one of the jokes of the household.

Papa once undertook to keep a list of them,

But the number grew so great that he gave it up in despair.

First on the list was a small Irish child named Marianne O'Reilly.

Marianne lived in a street which Katie passed on her way to school.

It was not Mrs.

Knight's,

But an ABC school to which Dory and John now went.

Marianne used to always making sand pies in front of her mother's house,

And Katie,

Who was about five years old,

Often stopped to help her.

Over this mutual pastry,

They grew so intimate that Katie resolved to adopt Marianne as her own little girl and bring her up in a safe and hidden corner.

She told Clover of this plan,

But nobody else.

The two children,

Full of their delightful secret,

Began to save pieces of bread and cookies from their supper every evening.

By degrees,

They collected a great heap of dry crusts and other refreshments which they put safely away in the garret.

They also saved the apples which were given them for two weeks and made a bed in a big empty box with cotton quilts and the doll's pillows out of the baby house.

When all was ready,

Katie broke her plan to her beloved Marianne and easily persuaded her to run away and take possession of this new home.

We won't tell Papa and Mama till she's quite grown up,

Katie said to Clover.

Then we'll bring her downstairs and won't they be surprised.

Don't let's call her Marianne any longer either.

It isn't pretty.

We'll name her Susqueenia instead.

Susqueenia Carr.

Recollect,

Marianne,

You mustn't answer if I call you Marianne,

Only when I say Susqueenia.

Yes,

Ma'am,

Replied Marianne,

Very meekly.

For a whole day all went on delightfully.

She lived in her wooden box,

Ate all the apples and the freshest cookies and was happy.

The two children took turns to steal away and play with the baby,

As they called Marianne,

Though she was a great deal bigger than Clover.

But when night came on,

A nurse swooped on Katie and Clover and carried them off to bed.

Miss O'Reilly began to think that the garret was a dreadful place.

Peeping out of her box,

She could see black things standing in corners,

Which she did not recollect seeing in the daytime.

They were rarely trunks and brooms and warming pans,

But somehow in the darkness they looked different,

Big and awful.

Poor little Marianne bore it as long as she could,

But when at last a rat began to scratch in a wall close beside her,

Her courage gave way entirely and she screamed at the top of her voice.

What is that?

Said Dr Carr,

Who had just come in and was on his way upstairs.

It sounds as if it came from the attic,

Said Mrs Carr,

For this was before Mama had died.

Can it be that one of the children has got out of bed and wandered upstairs in her sleep?

No,

Katie and Clover were safe in the nursery,

So Dr Carr took a candle and went as fast as he could to the attic,

Where the yells were growing terrific.

When he reached the top of the stairs,

The cries ceased.

He looked about.

Nothing was to be seen at first.

Then a little head appeared over the edge of a big wooden box,

And a piteous voice sobbed out.

Oh Miss Katie,

And indeed,

I can't be staying any longer,

There's rats in it.

Who on earth are you?

Asked the amazed doctor.

Sure,

I'm Miss Katie's and Miss Clover's baby,

But I don't want to be a baby any longer,

I want to go home and see my mother.

And again,

The poor little midge lifted up her voice and wept.

I don't think Dr Carr ever laughed so hard in his life as when he finally got to the bottom of the story and found that Katie and Clover had been adopting a child.

But he was very kind to Marianne and carried her downstairs in his arms to the nursery.

There,

In a bed close to the other children,

She soon forgot her troubles and fell asleep.

The little sisters were much surprised when they waked up in the morning and found their baby asleep beside them,

But their joy was speedily turned to tears.

After breakfast,

Dr Carr carried Marianne home to her mother,

Who was in a great fright over her disappearance,

And explained to the children that the Garrett plan must be given up.

Great was the morning in the nursery,

But as Marianne was allowed to come and play with them now and then,

They gradually got over their grief.

A few months later,

Mr O'Reilly moved away from Burnett,

And that was the end of Katie's first friendship.

The next was even funnier.

There was a strange old woman who lived all alone by herself in a small house near the school.

This old woman had a very bad temper.

The neighbours told horrible stories about her,

So that the children were afraid to pass the house.

They used to turn always,

Just before they reached it,

And cross to the other side of the street.

This they did so regularly that their feet had worn a path in the grass.

But for some reason,

Katie found a great fascination in the little house.

She liked to dodge about the door,

Always holding herself ready to turn and run in case the old woman rushed out upon her with a broomstick.

One day,

She begged a large cabbage of Alexander and rolled it in the door of the house.

The old woman seemed to like it,

And after this Katie always stopped to speak when she went by.

She even got so far as to sit on the step and watch the old woman at work.

There was a sort of perilous pleasure in doing this.

It was like sitting at the entrance of a lion's cage,

Uncertain at what moment his majesty might take it into his head to give a spring and eat you up.

After this Katie took a fancy to a couple of twin sisters,

Daughters of a German jeweller.

They were quite grown up and always wore dresses exactly alike.

Hardly anyone could tell them apart.

They spoke very little English,

And as Katie didn't know a word of German,

Their intercourse was confined to smiles,

And to giving the bunches of flowers,

Which Katie used to tie up and present to them whenever they passed the gate.

She was too shy to do more than just put the flowers in their hands and run away,

But the twins were evidently pleased.

For one day,

When Clover happened to be looking out of the window,

She saw them open the gate,

Fasten a little parcel to a bush,

And walk rapidly off.

Of course,

She called Katie at once,

And the two children flew out to see what the parcel was.

It held a bonnet,

A beautiful doll's bonnet of blue silk,

Trimmed with artificial flowers.

Upon it was pinned a slip of paper with these words,

In an odd foreign hand,

To the nice little girl who was so kindly to give us some flowers.

You can judge whether Katie and Clover were pleased or not.

This was when Katie was six years old.

I can't begin to tell you how many different friends she had set up since then.

There was an ash man and a steamboat captain.

There was Mrs Sawyer's Cook,

A nice old woman who gave Katie lessons in cooking and taught her to make soft custard and sponge cake.

There was a bonnet maker,

Pretty and dressy,

Whom,

To Aunt Izzy's great indignation,

Katie persisted in calling cousin as steel.

There was a thief in the town jail,

Under whose window Katie used to stand,

Saying,

I'm so sorry,

Poor man,

Have you got any little girls like me?

In the most piteous way.

The thief had a piece of string,

Which he let down from the window.

Katie would tie rosebuds and cherries to this string,

And the thief would draw them up.

It was so interesting to do this that Katie felt dreadfully when they carried the man off to the state prison.

Then followed a short interval of a girl named Cornelia,

A nice,

Good-natured girl,

Whose father was a fruit merchant.

I am afraid Katie's liking for prunes and white grapes played a part in this intimacy.

It was splendid fun to go with Cornelia to her father's big shop and have whole boxes of raisins and drums of figs opened for their amusement,

And be allowed to ride up and down in the elevator as much as they liked.

But of all Katie's strange acquaintances,

Mrs.

Spencer,

To whom Aunt Izzy had alluded,

Was the strangest.

Mrs.

Spencer was a mysterious lady whom nobody ever saw.

Her husband was a handsome,

Rather bad-looking man,

Who had come from parts unknown and rented a small house in Burnet.

He didn't seem to have any particular business,

And was away from home a great deal.

His wife was said to be unable to leave the house,

And people,

When they spoke of him,

Shook their heads and wondered how the poor woman got on all alone in the house while her husband was absent.

Of course,

Katie was too young to understand these whispers,

Or the reasons why people were not disposed to think well of Mr.

Spencer.

The romance of the closed door and the lady whom nobody saw interested her very much.

She used to stop and stare at the windows and wonder what was going on inside,

Till at last it seemed as if she must know.

So,

One day,

She took some flowers and Victoria,

Her favourite doll,

And boldly marched into the Spencer's yard.

She tapped at the front door,

But nobody answered.

Then she tapped again.

Still,

Nobody answered.

She tried the door.

It was locked.

So,

Shouldering Victoria,

She trudged round to the back of the As she passed the side door,

She saw that it was open a little way.

She knocked for the third time,

And as no one came,

She went in,

And passing through the little hall,

Began to tap all the inside doors.

There seemed to be no people in the house.

Katie peeped into the kitchen first.

It was bare and forlorn.

All sorts of dishes were standing about.

There was no fire in the stove.

The parlour was not much better.

Mr Spencer's boot lay in the middle of the floor.

There were dirty glasses on the table.

On the mantelpiece was a platter with bones of meat upon it.

Dust laid thick over everything,

And the whole house looked as if it hadn't been lived in for at least a year.

Katie tried several other doors,

All of which were locked,

And then she went upstairs.

As she stood on the top step,

Grasping her flowers,

And a little doubtful what to do next,

A feeble voice from her bedroom called out,

Who's there?

This was Mrs Spencer.

She was lying on her bed,

Which was very tossed and tumbled,

As if it hadn't been made up that morning.

The room was as disorderly and dirty as all the rest of the house,

And Mrs Spencer's wrapper and nightcap were by no means clean.

But her face was sweet,

And she had beautiful curling hair,

Which fell over the pillow.

She was evidently very sick,

And altogether Katie felt sorrier for her than she had ever done for anybody in her life.

Who are you,

Child?

Asked Mrs Spencer.

I'm Dr Carr's little girl,

Answered Katie,

Going straight up to the bed.

I came to bring you some flowers,

And she laid the bouquet on the dirty sheet.

Mrs Spencer seemed to like the flowers.

She took them up and smelled them for a long time,

Without speaking.

But how did you get in?

She said at last.

The door was open,

Faltered Katie,

Who was beginning to feel scared at her own daring.

And they said you were sick,

So I thought perhaps you would like me to come and see you.

You are a kind little girl,

Said Mrs Spencer,

And gave her a kiss.

After this,

Katie used to go every day.

Sometimes Mrs Spencer would be up and moving feebly about,

But more often she was in bed,

And Katie would sit beside her.

The house never looked a bit better than it did that first day.

But after a while,

Katie used to brush Mrs Spencer's hair,

And wash her face with the corner of a towel.

I think her visits were a comfort to the poor lady,

Who was very ill and lonely.

Sometimes when she felt pretty well,

She would tell Katie stories about the time when she was a little girl,

And lived at home with her father and mother.

But she never spoke of Mr Spencer,

And Katie never saw him except once,

When she was so frightened that for several days she dared not go near the house.

At last,

Cece reported that she had seen him go off in the stage with his carpet bag,

So Katie ventured in again.

Mrs Spencer cried when she saw her.

I thought you were never coming anymore,

She said.

Katie was touched and flattered at having been missed,

And after that she never lost a day.

She always carried the prettiest flowers she could find,

And if anyone gave her a specially nice peach or a bunch of grapes,

She saved it for Mrs Spencer.

Aunt Izzy was much worried at all this,

But Dr Carr would not interfere.

He said it was a case where grown-up people could do nothing,

And if Katie was a comfort to the poor lady,

He was glad.

Katie was glad too,

And the visits did her as much good as they did Mrs Spencer,

For the intense pity she felt for the sick woman made her gentle and patient as she had never been before.

One day she stopped,

As usual,

On her way home from school.

She tried the side door.

It was locked.

The back door.

It was locked too.

All the blinds were shut tight.

This was very puzzling.

As she stood in the yard,

A woman put her head out of the window of the next house.

It's no use knocking,

She said.

All the folks have gone away.

Gone away where?

Asked Katie.

Nobody knows,

Said the woman.

The gentleman came back in the middle of the night,

And this morning,

Before light,

He had a wagon at the door,

And just put in the trunks and the sick lady,

And he drove off.

There's been more than one-a-knocking besides you.

But Mr Pudgett,

He's got the key,

And nobody can get in without going to him.

It was too true.

Mrs Spencer was gone,

And Katie never saw her again.

In a few days,

It came out that Mr Spencer was a very bad man,

And had been making false money,

Counterfeiting,

As grown-up people call it.

The police were searching for him to put him in jail,

And that was the reason he had come back in such a hurry and carried off his poor,

Sick wife.

Aunt Izzy cried with mortification when she heard this.

She said she thought it was a disgrace that Katie should have been visiting in a counterfeiter's family.

But Dr Carr only laughed.

He told Aunt Izzy that he didn't think that kind of crime was catching,

And for Mrs Spencer,

She was much to be pitied.

But Aunt Izzy could not get over her vexation,

And every now and then,

When she was vexed,

She would refer to the affair,

Though this all happened so long ago that most people had forgotten all about it,

And Philly and John had stopped playing at putting Mr Spencer in jail,

Which for a long time was one of their favourite games.

Katie always felt badly when Aunt Izzy spoke unkindly of her poor,

Sick friend.

She had tears in her eyes now as she walked to the gate and looked so very sober that Imogen Clark,

Who stood there waiting,

Clasped her hands and said,

Ah,

I see,

Your aristocratic aunt refuses.

Imogen's real name was Elizabeth.

She was rather a pretty girl,

With a screwed-up sentimental mouth and shiny brown hair.

Oh no,

She doesn't,

She replied,

Hardly able to keep from laughing at the idea of Aunt Izzy being called an aristocratic relative.

She says she shall be very happy.

But here,

Katie's conscience gave a prick,

And the sentence ended in,

Er,

So you'll come,

Won't you,

Darling?

I'm so glad.

And I,

Said Imogen,

Turning up her eyes theatrically.

From this time on till the end of the week,

The children talked of nothing but Imogen's visit and the nice time they were going to have.

Before breakfast on Saturday morning,

Katie and Clover were at work building a beautiful bower of asparagus under the trees.

All the playthings were set out in order,

And Debbie baked them some cinnamon cakes.

The kitten had a pink ribbon tied round her neck,

And the dolls,

Including Pickery,

Were arranged in their best clothes.

About half-past ten,

Imogen arrived.

She was dressed in a light blue dress,

With low neck and short sleeves,

And wore coral beads in her hair,

White satin slippers,

And a pair of yellow gloves.

The gloves and slippers were quite dirty and darned,

But the general effect was so very gorgeous that the children,

Who were dressed for play in gingham frocks and white aprons,

Were quite dazzled at the appearance of their guest.

Oh,

Imogen,

You look just like a young lady in a story,

Said Katie,

Whereupon Imogen tossed her head and rustled her skirts about more than ever.

Somehow,

With these fine clothes,

Imogen seemed to have put on a fine manner,

Quite different from the one she used every day.

You know,

Some people always do,

When they go out visiting.

You would almost have supposed that this was a different Imogen,

Who was kept in a box most of the time,

And taken out for Sundays and grand occasions.

She swam about,

And diddled,

And lisped,

And looked at herself in the glass,

And was generally grown up and eerie.

When Aunt Izzy spoke to her,

She fluttered and behaved so strangely that Clover almost laughed,

And even Katie,

Who could see nothing wrong in people she loved,

Was glad to carry her away to the playroom.

Oh,

Let us go to the loft,

They said.

So they all crossed the yard together.

Imogen picked her way daintily in the white satin slippers,

But when she saw the spiked post,

She gave a scream.

Oh,

Not up there,

Darling,

Not up there,

She cried.

Never.

Oh,

Do try,

It's just as easy as can be,

Pleaded Katie,

Going up and down half a dozen times in succession to show how easy it was.

But Imogen wouldn't be persuaded.

Do not ask me,

She said,

Affectedly.

My nerves would never stand such a thing,

And besides,

My dress.

What made you wear it?

Said Philly,

Who was a plain-spoken child and given to questions.

While John whispered to Dory,

That's a real stupid girl.

Let's go off somewhere and play by ourselves.

So,

One by one,

The small throng crept away,

Leaving Katie and Clover to entertain the visitor by themselves.

They tried dolls,

But Imogen did not care for dolls.

Then they proposed to sit down in the shade and cap verses,

A game they all liked.

But Imogen said that,

Though she adored poetry,

She never could remember any.

So,

It ended in their going to the orchard,

Where Imogen ate a great many plums and early apples,

And really seemed to enjoy herself.

But when she could eat no more,

A dreadful dullness fell over the party.

At last,

Imogen said,

Don't you ever sit in the drawing room?

In the what?

Asked Clover.

The drawing room,

Repeated Imogen.

Oh,

She means the parlour,

Cried Katie.

No,

We don't sit there,

Except when Aunt Izzy has company to tea.

It's all dark and pokey,

You know.

Besides,

It's so much pleasanter to be outdoors,

Don't you think so?

Yes.

Sometimes,

Replied Imogen,

Doubtfully.

But I think it would be pleasant to go in and sit there for a while now.

My head aches dreadfully,

Being out here in this horrid sun.

Katie was at her wit's end to know what to do.

They scarcely ever went into the parlour,

Which Aunt Izzy regarded as a sort of sacred place.

She kept cotton petticoats all over the chairs,

For fear of dust,

And never opened the blinds,

For fear of flies.

The idea of children with dusty boots going in there to sit.

On the other hand,

Katie's natural politeness made it hard to refuse a visitor anything she asked for.

And besides,

It was dreadful to think that Imogen might go away and report Katie Carr isn't allowed to sit in the best room,

Even when she has company.

With a quaking heart,

She led the way to the parlour.

She dared not open the blinds,

So the room looked very dark.

She could just see Imogen's figure as she sat on the sofa,

And clover twirled uneasily about on the piano stool.

All the time she kept listening to hear if Aunt Izzy were not coming,

And altogether the parlour was a dismal place to her,

Not half so pleasant as the asparagus,

Where they felt perfectly safe.

But Imogen,

Who,

For the first time,

Seemed comfortable,

Began to talk.

Her talk was about herself.

Such stories she told about the things which had happened to her.

All the young ladies in the ledger put together never had stranger adventures.

Gradually,

Katie and Clover got so interested that they left their seats and crouched down close to the sofa,

Listening with open mouths to these stories.

Katie forgot to listen for Aunt Izzy.

The parlour door swung open,

But she did not notice it.

She did not even hear the front door shut when Papa came home to dinner.

Dr Carr,

Stopping in the hall to glance over his newspaper,

Heard the high-pitched voice running on in the parlour.

At first he hardly listened.

Then these words caught his ear.

Oh,

It was lovely,

Girls.

Perfectly delicious.

I suppose I did look well,

For I was all in white,

With my hair let down,

And just one rose,

You know,

Here on top.

And he leaned over me and said in a low,

Deep tone,

Lady,

I am a Burgund,

But I feel the enchanting power of beauty.

You are free.

Dr Carr pushed the door open a little farther.

Nothing was to be seen but some indistinct figures.

But he heard Katie's voice in an eager tone.

Oh,

Do go on.

What happened next?

Who on earth have the children got in the parlour?

He asked Aunt Izzy,

Whom he found in the dining room.

The parlour?

Cried Miss Izzy,

Wrathfully.

Why,

What are they in there for?

Then,

Going to the door,

She called out.

Children,

What are you doing in the parlour?

Come out right away.

I thought you were playing outdoors.

Imogen had a headache,

Faltered Katie.

The three girls came out into the hall.

Clover and Katie looked scared,

And even the enchanter of the Burgund was quite crestfallen.

Oh,

Said Aunt Izzy grimly,

I am sorry to hear that.

Would you like some camphor or anything?

No,

Thank you,

Replied Imogen,

Meekly.

But afterwards she whispered to Katie,

Your aunt isn't very nice,

I think.

She's just like Giacomo,

That horrid old woman I told you about,

Who lives in the Burgund's cave and did the cooking.

I don't think you're a bit polite to tell me so,

Retorted Katie,

Very angry at this speech.

I'll never mind,

Dear.

Don't take it to heart,

Replied Imogen,

Sweetly.

We can't help having relations that aren't nice,

You know.

The visit was evidently not a success.

Papa was very civil to Imogen at dinner,

But he watched her closely,

And Katie saw a comical twinkle in his eye which she did not like.

Papa had very droll eyes.

They saw everything,

And sometimes they seemed to talk almost as distinctly as his tongue.

Katie began to feel low-spirited.

She confessed afterward that she should never have got through the afternoon if she hadn't run upstairs two or three times,

And comforted herself by reading a little in Rosamond.

Aren't you glad she's gone?

Whispered Clover,

As they stood at the gate together,

Watching Imogen walk down the street.

Oh,

Clover,

How can you?

Said Katie.

But she gave Clover a great hug.

And I think,

In her heart,

She was glad.

Katie,

Said Papa,

Next day.

You came into the room then exactly like your new friend,

Miss Clark.

How?

I don't know what you mean,

Answered Katie,

Blushing deeply.

My dear,

You're an affectionate child,

And I'm glad of it,

But there is such a thing as throwing away one's affection.

I didn't fancy that little girl at all yesterday.

What makes you like her so much?

I didn't like her so much yesterday,

Admitted Katie,

Reluctantly.

She's a great deal nicer than that at school,

Sometimes.

I'm glad to hear it,

Said her father,

For I should be sorry to think that you really admired such silly manners.

And what was that nonsense I heard her telling you about Brigance?

It really happened,

Began Katie.

Then she caught Papa's eye and bit her lip,

For he looked very quizzical.

Well,

She went on,

Laughing.

I suppose it didn't really all happen,

But it was ever so funny,

Papa,

Even if it was a make-up.

And Imogen's just as good-natured as can be.

All the girls like her.

Make-ups are all very well,

Said Papa,

As long as people don't try to make you believe they are true.

When they do that,

It seems to me it comes too near the edge of falsehood to be very safe or pleasant.

If I were you,

Katie,

I'd be a little shy of swearing eternal friendship for Miss Clark.

She may be good-natured,

As you say,

But I think two or three years hence,

You won't think she's as nice as you do now.

Give me a kiss,

Chick,

And run away,

For there's Alexander with the boogie.

Reviews

Thank you for reading and sharing the story, I empires very much. Looking forward to the next reading.❤️