What Katy Did | Page 5

Susan Coolidge
of rosy button.
Meantime, and until these charming changes should take place, Katy
forgot her features as much as she could, though still, I think, the
person on earth whom she most envied was that lady on the outside of
the Tricopherous bottles with the wonderful hair which sweeps the
ground.
CHAPTER II
PARADISE
The place to which the children were going was a sort of marshy
thicket at the bottom of a field near the house. It wasn't a big thicket,
but it looked big, because the trees and bushes grew so closely that you
could not see just where it ended. In winter the ground was damp and

boggy, so that nobody went there, excepting cows, who don't mind
getting their feet wet; but in summer the water dried away, and then it
was all fresh and green, and full of delightful things--wild roses, and
sassafras, and birds' nests. Narrow, winding paths ran here and there,
made by the cattle as they wandered to and fro. This place the children
called "Paradise," and to them it seemed as wide and endless and full of
adventure as any forest of fairy land.
The way to Paradise was through some wooden bars. Katy and Cecy
climbed these with a hop, skip and jump, while the smaller ones
scrambled underneath. Once past the bars they were fairly in the field,
and, with one consent, they all began to run till they reached the
entrance of the wood. Then they halted, with a queer look of hesitation
on their faces. It was always an exciting occasion to go to Paradise for
the first time after the long winter. Who knew what the fairies might
not have done since any of them had been there to see?
"Which path shall we go in by?" asked Clover, at last.
"Suppose we vote," said Katy. "I say by the Pilgrim's Path and the Hill
of Difficulty."
"So do I!" chimed in Clover, who always agreed with Katy.
"The Path of Peace is nice," suggested Cecy.
"No, no! We want to go by Sassafras Path!" cried John and Dorry.
However, Katy, as usual, had her way. It was agreed that they should
first try Pilgrim's Path, and afterward make a thorough exploration of
the whole of their little kingdom, and see all that had happened since
last they were there. So in they marched, Katy and Cecy heading the
procession, and Dorry, with his great trailing bunch of boughs, bringing
up the rear.
"Oh, there is the dear Rosary, all safe!" cried the children, as they
reached the top of the Hill of Difficulty, and came upon a tall stump,
out of the middle of which waved a wild rose-bush, budded over with

fresh green eaves. This "Rosary" was a fascinating thing to their minds.
They were always inventing stories about it, and were in constant terror
lest some hungry cow should take a fancy to the rose-bush and eat it
up.
"Yes," said Katy, stroking a leaf with her finger, "it was in great danger
one night last winter, but it escaped."
"Oh, how? Tell us about it!" cried the others, for Katy's stories were
famous in the family.
"It was Christmas Eve," continued Katy, in a mysterious tone. "The
fairy of the Rosary was quite sick. She had taken a dreadful cold in her
head, and the poplar-tree fairy, just over there, told her that sassafras
tea is good for colds. So she made a large acorn-cup full, and then
cuddled herself in where the wood looks so black and soft, and fell
asleep. In the middle of the night, when she was snoring soundly, there
was a noise in the forest, and a dreadful black bull with fiery eyes
galloped up. He saw our poor Rosy Posy, and, opening his big mouth,
he was just going to bite her in two; but at that minute a little fat man,
with a wand in his hand, popped out from behind the stump. It was
Santa Claus, of course. He gave the bull such a rap with his wand that
he moo-ed dreadfully, and then put up his fore-paw, to see if his nose
was on or not. He found it was, but it hurt him so that he 'moo-ed' again,
and galloped off as fast as he could into the woods. Then Santa Claus
waked up the fairy, and told her that if she didn't take better care of
Rosy Posy he should put some other fairy into her place, and set her to
keep guard over a prickly, scratchy, blackberry-bush."
"Is there really any fairy?" asked Dorry, who had listened to this
narrative with open mouth.
"Of course," answered Katy. Then bending down toward Dorry, she
added in a voice intended to be of wonderful
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