What Katy Did At School | Page 8

and Elsie a baby. Of chouse you
don't remember it."
"But who are they, papa?"
"Mrs. Page was your dear mother's second cousin; and at one time she
lived in your grandfather's family, and was like a sister to mamma and
Uncle Charles. It is a good many years since I have seen her. Mr. Page
is a railroad engineer. He is coming this way on business, and they will
stop for a few days with us. Your Cousin Olivia writes that she is
anxious to see all you children. Have every thing as nice as you can,
Katy."
"Of course, I will. What day are the coming?"
"Thursday,--no, Friday," replied Dr. Carr, consulting the letter, "Friday
evening, at half-past six. Order something substantial for tea that night,
Katy. They'll be hungry after traveling."
Katy worked with a will for the next two days. Twenty times, at least,
she went into the blue room to make sure that nothing was forgotten;
repeating, as if it had been a lesson in geography: "Bath towels, face
towels, matches, soap, candles, cologne, extra blanket, ink." A nice
little fire was lighted in the bedroom on Friday afternoon, and a big,
beautiful one in the parlor, which looked very pleasant with the lamp lit
and Clover's geraniums and china roses in the window. The tea- table
was set with the best linen and the pink-and-white china. Debby's
muffins were very light. The crab-apple jelly came out of its mould
clear and whole, and the cold chicken looked appetizing, with its green
wreath of parsley. There was stewed potato, too, and, of course, oysters.
Everybody in Burnet had oysters for tea when company was expected.
They were counted a special treat; because they were rather dear, and
could not always be procured. Burnet was a thousand miles from the

sea, so the oysters were of the tin- can variety. The cans gave the
oysters a curious taste,--tinny, or was it more like solder? At all events,
Burnet people liked it, and always insisted that it was a striking
improvement on the flavor which oysters have on their native shores.
Every thing was as nice as could be, when Katy stood in the
dining-room to take a last look at her arrangements; and she hoped
papa would be pleased, and that mamma's cousin would think her a
good housekeeper.
"I don't want to have on my other jacket," observed Phil, putting his
head in at the door. "Need I? This is nice."
"Let me see," said Katy, gently turning him round. "Well, it does pretty
well; but I think I'd rather you should put on the other, if you don't
mind much. We want every thing as nice as possible, you know;
because this is papa's company, and he hardly ever has any."
"Just one little sticky place isn't much," said Phil, rather gloomily,
wetting his finger a rubbing at a shiny place on his sleeve. "Do you
really thing I'd better? Well, then I will."
"That's a dear,"--kissing him. "Be quick, Philly, for it's almost time they
were here. And please tell Dorry to make haste. It's ever so long since
he went upstairs."
"Dorry's an awful prink," remarked Phil, confidentially. "He looks in
the glass, and makes faces if he can't get his parting straight. I wouldn't
care so much about my clothes for a good deal. It's like a girl. Jim
Slack says a boy who shines his hair up like that, never'll get to be
president, not if he lives a thousand years."
"Well," said Katy, laughing: "it's something to be clean, even if you
can't be president." She was not at all alarmed by Dorry's recent
reaction in favor of personal adornment. He came down pretty soon,
very spick and span in his best suit, and asked her to fasten the blue
ribbon under his collar, which she did most obligingly; though he was
very particular as to the size of the bows and length of the ends, and
made her tie and retie more than once. She had just arranged it to suit

him when a carriage stopped.
"There they are," she cried. "Run and open the door, Dorry."
Dorry did so; and Katy, following, found papa ushering in a tall
gentleman, and a lady who was not tall, but whose Roman nose and
long neck, and general air of style and fashion, made her look so. Katy
bent quite over to be kissed; but for all that she felt small and young
and unformed, as the eyes of mamma's cousin looked her over and over,
and through and through, and Mrs. Page said,--
"Why, Philip! is it possible that this tall girl is one of yours? Dear me!
how time flies! I was thinking of the little creatures I saw when