Kitty Canary | Page 9

make anything they mention interesting
from the way they mention it. I love to hear them, and I've heard a good
deal.
Dear, precious Miss Susanna in the secrecy of my bedroom gave me a
little talk a few nights ago, and said she hoped I wouldn't mind, but as I
was young and inexperienced she thought it her duty to tell me that I
must be careful and not too informal, for certain people wouldn't
understand; and that while the Holts were a very good, respectable
family, still they were not-- She stopped and coughed a little, and of
course I understood, but I pretended I didn't, and told her they were
perfectly healthy and I had had more fun with the Holt children than
with any in town, but if she preferred they should not come to her
house to see me I would just stop in theirs sometimes, as I would not
like them to think I was afraid to go with them. I wasn't, for while I
knew they were not historic, they were the most interesting children I'd

ever seen, and it seemed pretty cruel that they were left out of things
because they didn't have forefathers to hang on to, or money, which of
course would speak for itself. And dear, angelic Miss Susanna, who is
so worn out with boarders and their special kind of human-nature
horridness at times that she's hardly got body enough to cover her soul,
said I mustn't misunderstand her, but the Holts had never gone in the
same circles as the other people I had met, and that customs, though
unkind, were hard to overcome, and the oldest son--
I told her not to worry about the oldest son. He could go anywhere he
wanted and with any one he wanted by the time he was through college,
which his parents were working themselves to death to send him
through, and it was very probable that several girls in town would be
glad to add their grandfathers to his natural endowments before many
years were over. But if she didn't care for me to accept his attentions, as
Miss Araminta Armstrong called them, I could always have an
engagement when he asked me to go anywhere. She looked so shocked
and distressed that I told her I didn't approve of telling stories any more
than she did, and for most sorts people ought to be branded, but I'd
much rather tell one of that land than hurt a person's feelings. And it
wouldn't be untrue to say I had an engagement, for I always had one to
go everywhere and anywhere, even if I didn't keep it; and again she
coughed and looked so pained that I took her in my arms and whirled
around the room with her and told her not to worry about me, either. I
wouldn't disgrace her by knowing the wrong people too well, but
everybody had their peculiarities and one of mine was I was going to
know anybody I wanted to. I always thought a lady could, and, besides,
I liked any kind of person who was interesting, and the best born ones
were often very stupid, which of course was the wrong thing to say. So
I had to give her another whirl, and by the time she got her breath it
was time to see about supper, and she has never referred to the subject
since.
Miss Susanna is a darling little lady of the old school (whatever the old
school was) and I love her, but I am of my time as she is of hers, and I
don't see her way any more than she sees mine. She ought to wear
hoop-skirts and brocaded silks and lace fichus and mits, and sit with

her beautiful hands folded in her lap and her tiny little feet on a
footstool, and instead she works from morning to night trying to help
the good-for-nothingest servants that were ever hired by tired ladies,
except Uncle Henson, and Aunt Mandy, the cook, who have been with
her for years and years. She's worn out. That's what's the matter with
Miss Susanna, and that selfish, lazy little piece of pinkness who is now
away doesn't lift her hand to help her unless it is to make a cake
occasionally. I don't know how to make cake and never expect to know,
as very good kinds can be bought, but I can wash dishes. I do it every
morning and she dries them, so limp Eliza can go up-stairs and clean up
the bedrooms, and we have a beautiful time talking about what a
change comes over human beings when they board. That is, I do the
talking and she shakes her head at me, but