LITMIR.BIZ

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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:

      “Ah, Miss Katy, and indeed I can’t be stayin’ any longer. There’s rats in it!”

      “Who on earth are you ?” asked the amazed Doctor.

      “Sure, I’m Miss Katy’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 Katy and Clover had been “adopting” a child. But he was very kind to poor Susquehanna, and carried her down stairs 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 garret plan must be given up. Great was the mourning 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’Riley moved away from Burnet, and that was the end of Katy’s first friendship.

      The next was even funnier. There was a queer old black woman who lived all alone by herself in a small house near the school. This old woman had a very bad temper. The neighbors 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 Katy 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 at the door of the house. The old woman seemed to like it, and after this Katy 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, Katy 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 any one could tell them apart. They spoke very little English, and as Katy didn’t know a word of German, their intercourse was confined to smiles, and to the giving of bunches of flowers, which Katy 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 Katy 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 Katy and Clover were pleased or not.

      This was when Katy 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 steam-boat captain. There was Mrs. Sawyer’s cook, a nice old woman, who gave Katy lessons in cooking, and taught her to make soft custard and sponge-cake. There was a bonnet-maker, pretty and dressy, whom, to Aunt Izzie’s great indignation, Katy persisted in calling “Cousin Estelle!” There was a thief in the town-jail, under whose window Katy used to stand, saying, “I’m so sorry, poor man!” and “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. Katy would tie rose-buds and cherries to this string, and the thief would draw them up. It was so interesting to do this, that Katy felt dreadfully when they carried the man off to the State Prison. Then followed a short interval of Cornelia Perham, a nice, good-natured girl, whose father was a fruit-merchant. I am afraid Katy’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 Katy’s queer acquaintances, Mrs. Spenser, to whom Aunt Izzie had alluded, was the queerest.

      Mrs. Spenser 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 an invalid, 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 Katy was too young to understand these whispers, or the reasons why people were not disposed to think well of Mr. Spenser. 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 favorite doll, and boldly marched into the Spensers’ 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 house. 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 at all the inside doors.

      There seemed to be no people in the house. Katy 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 parlor was not much better. Mr. Spenser’s boots lay in the middle of the floor. There were dirty glasses on the table. On the mantel-piece was a platter with bones of meat upon it. Dust lay thick over everything, and the whole house looked as if it hadn’t been lived in for at least a year.

      Katy tried several other doors, all of which were locked, and then she went up stairs. As she stood on the top step, grasping her flowers, and a little doubtful what to do next, a feeble voice from a bed-room called out:

      “Who is there?”

      This was Mrs. Spenser. 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. Spenser’s wrapper and night-cap 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 Katy felt sorrier for her than she had ever done for anybody in her life.

      “Who are you, child?” asked Mrs. Spenser.

      “I’m Dr. Carr’s little girl,” answered Katy, going straight up to the bed. “I came to bring you some flowers.” And she laid the bouquet on the dirty sheet.

      Mrs. Spenser 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 Katy, 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. Spenser, and gave her a kiss.

      After this Katy used to go every day. Sometimes Mrs. Spenser would be up and moving feebly about; but more often she was in bed, and Katy would sit beside her. The house never looked a bit better than it did that first day, but after a while Katy used to brush Mrs. Spenser’s hair, and wash her face with the corner of

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