Susan Coolidge - What Katy Did

This was the first valentine Clover had ever had. She was perfectly enchanted.

“Oh, who do you suppose sent it?” she cried.

But before anybody could answer, there came another loud knock at the door, which made them all jump. Behold, Bridget again, with a second letter!

“It’s for you, Miss Elsie, this time,” she said with a grin.

There was an instant rush from all the children, and the envelope was torn open in the twinkling of an eye. Inside was a little ivory seal with “Elsie” on it in old English letters, and these rhymes:

“It’s just like a fairy story,” said Elsie, whose eyes had grown as big as saucers from surprise, while these verses were being read aloud by Cecy.

Another knock. This time there was a perfect handful of letters. Everybody had one. Katy, to her great surprise, had two .

“Why, what can this be?” she said. But when she peeped into the second one, she saw Cousin Helen’s handwriting, and she put it into her pocket, till the valentines should be read.

Dorry’s was opened first. It had the picture of a pie at the top—I ought to explain that Dorry had lately been having a siege with the dentist.

This valentine made the children laugh for a long time. Johnnie’s envelope held a paper doll named “Red Riding-Hood.” These were the verses:

Johnnie was immensely pleased at this, for Red Riding-Hood was a great favorite of hers.

Philly had a bit of india-rubber in his letter, which was written with very black ink on a big sheet of foolscap:

“Just listen to mine,” said Cecy, who had all along pretended to be as much surprised as anybody, and now behaved as if she could hardly wait till Philly’s was finished. Then she read aloud:

“I think that’s the prettiest of all,” said Clover.

“I don’t,” said Elsie. “I think mine is the prettiest. Cecy didn’t have any seal in hers, either.” And she fondled the little seal, which all this time she had held in her hand.

“Katy, you ought to have read yours first because you are the oldest,” said Clover.

“Mine isn’t much,” replied Katy, and she read:

“What a mean valentine!” cried Elsie, with flashing eyes. “It’s a real shame, Katy! You ought to have had the best of all.”

Katy could hardly keep from laughing. The fact was that the verses for the others had taken so long, that no time had been left for writing a valentine to herself. So, thinking it would excite suspicion to have none, she had scribbled this old rhyme at the last moment.

“It isn’t very nice,” she said, trying to look as pensive as she could, “but never mind.”

“It’s a shame!” repeated Elsie, petting her very hard to make up for the injustice.

“Hasn’t it been a funny evening?” said John; and Dorry replied, “Yes; we never had such good times before Katy was sick, did we?”

Katy heard this with a mingled feeling of pleasure and pain. “I think the children do love me a little more of late,” she said to herself. “But, oh, why couldn’t I be good to them when I was well and strong!”

She didn’t open Cousin Helen’s letter until the rest were all gone to bed. I think somebody must have written and told about the valentine party, for instead of a note there were these verses in Cousin Helen’s own clear, pretty hand. It wasn’t a valentine, because it was too solemn, as Katy explained to Clover, next day. “But,” she added, “it is a great deal beautifuller than any valentine that ever was written.” And Clover thought so too.