What Katy Did or What Katy did at Home

TO FIVE.

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.

THE LITTLE CARRS

I was sitting in the meadows one day, not long ago, at a place where there was a small brook.

It was a hot day.

The sky was very blue, and white clouds, like great swans, went floating over it to and fro.

Just opposite me was a clump of green rushes, with dark velvety spikes, and among them one single tall, red cardinal flower, which was bending over the brook as if to see its own beautiful face in the water.

But the cardinal 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’t tell exactly which it was.

One voice was shrill; the other, which was a little deeper, sounded very positive and cross.

They were evidently disputing about something, for they said the same words over and over again. These were the words — “Katy did.”

“Katy didn’t.”

“She did.”

“She didn’t.” “She did.” “She didn’t.” “Did.” “Didn’t.”

I think they must have repeated them at least a hundred times.

I got up from my seat to see if I could find the speakers; and sure enough, there on one of the cat-tail bulrushes, I spied two tiny pale-green creatures.