On this occasion she petted and cosseted Katy exactly as if it had been Johnnie or little Phil. She took her on her lap, bathed the hot head, brushed the hair, put arnica on the bruises, and produced a clean frock, so that by tea-time the poor child, except for her red eyes, looked like herself again, and Aunt Izzie didnt notice anything unusual.
For a wonder, Dr. Carr was at home that evening. It was always a great treat to the children when this happened, and Katy thought herself happy when, after the little ones had gone to bed, she got Papa to herself, and told him the whole story.
Papa, she said, sitting on his knee, which, big girl as she was, she liked very much to do, what is the reason that makes some days so lucky and other days so unlucky? Now today began all wrong, and everything that happened in it was wrong, and on other days I begin right, and all goes right, straight through. If Aunt Izzie hadnt kept me in the morning, I shouldnt have lost my mark, and then I shouldnt have been cross, and then perhaps I shouldnt have got in my other scrapes.
But what made Aunt Izzie keep you, Katy?
To sew on the string of my bonnet, Papa.
But how did it happen that the string was off?
Well, said Katy, reluctantly, I am afraid that was my fault, for it came off on Tuesday, and I didnt fasten it on.
So you see we must go back of Aunt Izzie for the beginning of this unlucky day of yours, Childie. Did you ever hear the old saying about, For the want of a nail the shoe was lost?
No, nevertell it to me! cried Katy, who loved stories as well as when she was three years old.
So Dr. Carr repeated
For the want of a nail the shoe was lost,
For the want of a shoe the horse was lost,
For the want of a horse the rider was lost,
For the want of a rider the battle was lost,
For the want of a battle the kingdom was lost,
And all for want of a horse-shoe nail.
Oh, Papa! exclaimed Katy, giving him a great hug as she got off his knee, I see what you mean! Who would have thought such a little speck of a thing as not sewing on my string could make a difference? But I dont believe I shall get in any more scrapes, for I shant ever forget
For the want of a nail the shoe was lost.
CHAPTER IV
KIKERI
But I am sorry to say that my poor, thoughtless Katy did forget, and did get into another scrape, and that no later than the very next Monday.
Monday was apt to be rather a stormy day at the Carrs. There was the big wash to be done, and Aunt Izzie always seemed a little harder to please, and the servants a good deal crosser than on common days. But I think it was also, in part, the fault of the children, who, after the quiet of Sunday, were specially frisky and uproarious, and readier than usual for all sorts of mischief.
To Clover and Elsie, Sunday seemed to begin at Saturdays bed-time, when their hair was wet, and screwed up in papers, that it might curl next day. Elsies waved naturally, so Aunt Izzie didnt think it necessary to pin her papers very tight; but Clovers thick, straight locks required to be pinched hard before they would give even the least twirl, and to her, Saturday night was one of misery. She would lie tossing, and turning, and trying first one side of her head and then the other; but whichever way she placed herself, the hard knobs and the pins stuck out and hurt her; so when at last she fell asleep, it was face down, with her small nose buried in the pillow, which was not comfortable, and gave her bad dreams. In consequence of these sufferings Clover hated curls, and when she made up stories for the younger children, they always commenced: The hair of the beautiful princess was as straight as a yard-stick, and she never did it up in papersnever!
Sunday always began with a Bible story, followed by a breakfast of baked beans, which two things were much tangled up together in Phillys mind. After breakfast the children studied their Sunday-school lessons, and then the big carryall came round, and they drove to church, which was a good mile off. It was a large, old-fashioned church, with galleries, and long pews with high red-cushioned seats.
The choir sat at the end, behind a low, green curtain, which slipped from side to side on rods. When the sermon began, they would draw the curtain aside and show themselves, all ready to listen, but the rest of the time they kept it shut. Katy always guessed that they must be having good times behind the green curtaineating orange-peel, perhaps, or reading the Sunday-school booksand she often wished she might sit up there among them.
The seat in Dr. Carrs pew was so high that none of the children, except Katy, could touch the floor, even with the point of a toe. This made their feet go to sleep; and when they felt the queer little pin-pricks which drowsy feet use to rouse themselves with, they would slide off the seat, and sit on the benches to get over it. Once there, and well hidden from view, it was almost impossible not to whisper. Aunt Izzie would frown and shake her head, but it did little good, especially as Phil and Dorry were sleeping with their heads on her lap, and it took both her hands to keep them from rolling off into the bottom of the pew. When good old Dr. Stone said, Finally, my brethren, she would begin waking them up. It was hard work sometimes, but generally she succeeded, so that during the last hymn the two stood together on the seat, quite brisk and refreshed, sharing a hymn-book, and making believe to sing like the older people.