What Katy Did At School | Page 6

door,
which was about once in three minutes, she would cry: "Here, Johnnie,
here's another chicken for you to chase;" and poor Johnnie would feel
obliged to dash out into the sun. Being a very polite little girl, she did
not like to say to Mrs. Worrett that running in the heat was disagreeable:
so by dinner-time she was thoroughly tired out, and would have been
cross if she had known how; but she didn't-- Johnnie was never cross.
After dinner it was even worse; for the sun was hotter, and the chickens,
who didn't mind sun, seemed to be walking all the time. "Hurry,
Johnnie, here's another," came so constantly, that at last Elsie grew
desperate, got up, and went to the kitchen with a languid appeal:
"Please, Mrs. Worrett, won't you let Johnnie stay by me, because my
head aches so hard?" After that, Johnnie had a rest; for Mrs. Worrett
was the kindest of women, and had no idea that she was not amusing
her little guest in the most delightful manner.
A little before six, Elsie's head felt better; and she and Johnnie put on
their hats, and went for a walk in the garden. There was not much to see:
beds of vegetables,--a few currant bushes,--that was all. Elsie was
leaning against a paling, and trying to make out why the Worrett house
had that queer tiptoe expression, when a sudden loud grunt startled her,
and something touched the top of her head. She turned, and there was
an enormous pig, standing on his hind legs, on the other side of the
paling. He was taller than Elsie, as he stood thus, and it was his cold
nose which had touched her head. Somehow, appearing in this
unexpected way, he seemed to the children like some dreadful wild
beast. They screamed with fright, and fled to the house, from which
Elsie never ventured to stir again during their visit. John chased
chickens at intervals, but it was a doubtful pleasure; and all the time she
kept a wary eye on the distant pig.
That evening, while Mrs. Worrett slept and Mr. Worrett smoked

outside the door, Elsie felt so very miserable that she broke down
altogether. She put her head in Johnnie's lap, as they sat together in the
darkest corner of the room, and sobbed and cried, making as little noise
as she possibly could. Johnnie comforted her with soft pats and
strokings; but did not dare to say a word, for fear Mrs. Worrett should
wake up and find them out.
When the morning came, Elsie's one thought was, would Alexander
come for them in the afternoon? All day she watched the clock and the
road with feverish anxiety. Oh! if papa had changed his mind,--had
decided to let them stay for a week at Conic Section,--what should she
do? It was just possible to worry through and keep alive till afternoon,
she thought; but if they were forced to spend another night in that
feather-bed, with those mosquitoes, hearing the blue shad rattle and
quiver hour after hour,--she should die, she was sure she should die!
But Elsie was not called upon to die, or even to discover how easy it is
to survive a little discomfort. About five, her anxious watch was
rewarded by the appearance of a cloud of dust, out of which presently
emerged old Whitey's ears and the top of the well-known carryall. They
stopped at the gate. There was Alexander, brisk and smiling, very glad
to see his "little misses" again, and to find them so glad to go home.
Mrs. Worrett, however, did not discover that they were glad; no indeed!
Elsie and John were much too polite for that. They thanked the old lady,
and said good-by so prettily that, after they were gone, she told Mr.
Worrett that it hadn't been a bit of trouble having them there, and she
hoped they would come again; they enjoyed every thing so much; only
it was a pity that Elsie looked so peaked. And at that very moment
Elsie was sitting on the floor of the carryall, with her head in John's lap,
crying and sobbing for joy that the visit was over and that she was on
the way home. "If only I live to get there," she said, "I'll never, no,
never, go into the country again!" which was silly enough; but we must
forgive her because she was half sick.
Ah, how charming home did look, with the family grouped in the shady
porch, Katy in her white wrapper, Clover with rose-buds in her belt,
and everybody ready to welcome and pet the little absentees! There was

much hugging and kissing, and much to tell of what had happened in
the two days: how a