A FOUNDATION THAT BROUGHT KAT TO GRIEF.
Slam! went the gate, knocking the dead leaves right and left, and whiz!
went two girls up the walk, like unruly sky-rockets, with the odd ends
flying. Rattle-de-tap, went four feet with steel-capped heels over the
old shady porch, and bang! went the door back against the wall;
then:----
"Mama,----"
"Bea,--Er,----"
"Nestine, Olive,----"
"Jean, hurry;--let me tell first. Miss----"
"I beat to the steps, I ought to tell," shrieked Kat, as Kittie choked
for breath. "Miss Howard is going to give us a,----"
"Nutting party!" shouted Kittie, with a triumphant breath. "Hurrah,
three cheer-r-s!"
"Mercy on me," cried a voice from up stairs. "What is the matter; what
are you doing?"
"Kittie's dancing a jig, and Kat's sliding down the bannisters,"
exclaimed a horrified voice from somewhere else. "Mercy! Bea, call mama;
I think they've gone crazy."
"Nutting party," cried Kittie, dancing furiously and nodding her head
like a demented monkey. "To-morrow,----want to go?"
The girls had all collected by this time around the boisterous pair, and
Bea flapped her sewing warningly, as Kat came whizzing down the
bannisters for a final time, and landed with a dexterous jump, in the
middle of the group.
"I'm going down town," said Ernestine, after hearing of the near and
great event. "I can't go."
"Of course not," said Kittie, with great scorn. "You'd rather go down
town, and be all the afternoon buying a shoe string, than get a Saratoga
trunk full of nuts; but you'll want some of mine this winter."
Olive was busy on a picture, Bea had some sewing, so the twins must
represent the Dering family, and accepted the matter quite blissfully,
to judge from the way they raced off for parts unknown, and remained
absent for some time, as if strange and wonderful preparations were
necessary, and being undergone for to-morrow. They came back when the
tea-bell rang, at least Kittie did, slowly and solemnly through the back
yard, and lingered several minutes on the porch, with many mysterious
signals to some one, down where the long yard sloped to the pond, and a
fringe of willows shaded the water.
"Where's Kathy," inquired Ernestine, who strongly objected to the
extremely abbreviated form of 'Kat.'
"Down at the pond, she's coming," answered Kittie, with a strangely
worried look; but Ernestine flitted by without noticing it, and pretty
soon Kittie quit leaning over the lattice and went in slowly.
Just as Mrs. Dering was leaving her room to go down to tea, she heard a
peculiarly suspicious noise out in the back hall, unmistakably the
careful opening of a window, as of someone on the low roof without, and
pausing to listen, Mrs. Dering became convinced, that someone was surely
making entrance to the house in that questionable manner. A midnight
burglary was a rare occurrence in Canfield, but one in the early fall of
evening, was beyond imagination, and yet Mrs. Dering was conscious of a
little trepidation, as she tiptoed her way round to the back hall, and
fancy pictured a man, with sly intent, coming over the window-sill.
Whoever the intruder was, he was working with great care, and wholly
unconscious of any one's approach, for when Mrs. Dering reached the
corner and peeped around, the intruding head was just leveled, and
coming through, carefully followed by a nimble body, but not clothed in
the habiliments usually donned by burglars; instead, there appeared a
blue calico much drenched and ornamented with wet weeds, an apron wholly
unrecognizable as to color or design, and a drabbled hat hanging to the
intruder's neck. As this queer apparition landed on the floor, Mrs.
Bering stepped around the corner, whereupon the bold burglar jumped and
screamed faintly, and the lady laughed, though she said with grave
inquiry:
"Why Kathleen! What does this mean?"
"Oh, mama!" gasped the burglar, with a despairing glance at her dripping
self. "I didn't want you to see me."
"Nor any one else, from the way you came in I should think. What is the
matter?"
Kat grasped her wet hat, and looked desperately sorry and resigned all
at once.
"Why, I went out in the boat," she said, twisting the wet ribbons around
her fingers and dropping her eyes to the floor, with a little flush of
shame, "and it upset, and I had to wade in, but I couldn't get it, and
it's sailing upside down, way out in the pond. I don't know whatever
you'd better do to me, I'm sure."
"Disobeyed papa. O Kathleen!"
"Well I didn't mean--," there Kat stopped, and swallowed several times
very hastily; she would rather have been shaken, than to have heard that
grieved tone. "I was only going to ride a little ways, but the wind blew
me out; I know it was wrong, though, cause pap said, not to touch it."
"Go to your room and get off your wet clothes as quickly as possible,
and after supper I will come and talk to you about it," said Mrs.
Dering, turning away to hide the smile, that poor, dripping, shame-faced
Kat could not but provoke.
The announcement that "Water-Rat" was face down out in the pond, caused
dire dismay at the supper-table, so that when the meal was finished, and
Mrs. Dering went up to talk to repentant Kat, the rest of the family all
hurried down to the pond to view the disaster. There was the gayly
painted boat, floating idly back and forth with the wind, out in the
pond, and the girls expressed their great dismay in a dismal chorus of
"Oh's," long prolonged, as it floated farther away. "Never mind," said
papa Dering, briskly. "We'll get her all safe again, a little bath won't
hurt her. Here Kittie, you're the best runner, go to the house and bring
me the largest hammer and longest nails in the tool-chest. Be quick
now." Kittie was off like a flash, and when she came back, there were
three or four logs lying ready for use, with some planks and a long
pole, and Mr. Bering with coat off, fell to work with a will and such
speed, that in ten minutes, a small raft lay in the water, and Mr.
Dering was making preparations for his voyage, by pulling off his boots
and tucking his pants up.
"You don't suppose you could get drowned, do you papa," questioned Jean,
somewhat overcome with these unusual proceedings, and clinging to her
seat in a low willow with some trepidation.
"Not much, little one. I guess if Katty can wade out of this water, papa
can, providing he's tipped in. Now good-bye, girls. Wish me well."
Kittie in the willow, and Bea and Ernestine on a log, gave three parting
cheers with such force, that Kat, crying forlornly up in her room, ran
to the window to see the fun, and watched with great interest the rescue
of the "Water Rat," which Mr. Dering effected with great skill and many
flourishes, to the delight of his audience. After being pulled out on
the grass, face up again to dry, the rescued "Rat" was left to the
twilight, while the party returned to the house.
The new arrangements had been in hand about a week, and so far, the
girls were delighted and enthusiastic over "helping," though they did
miss "Prince" and the buggy very much. As Mrs. Dering had said, papa
decidedly objected to any such arrangements and privations, but one man
against seven determined women!--oh, my! just think of it! So they had
their way, and it was such a comfort to see, that already he began to
look a little less worried and anxious when out of the store.
That night, when the girls went to bed, Kat was very much subdued, and
kept her face quite persistently out of sight. Kittie administered
comfort in broken and complete doses, but without much effect, for just
now, when under the new enthusiasm, every one was doing her best in all
ways, Kat felt her disgrace, more deeply than was customary for her, who
fell into it, and out again pretty nearly every day, and so she refused
to be comforted. Perhaps there was another reason for the complete and
deep contrition. At any rate, she whispered to Kittie with a choke, that
fought against being a sob,--before they went to sleep; "Oh, Kittie!--I
can't go--go, nutting!"
Sure enough. Kat ate her breakfast with red eyes and a poor appetite the
next morning, while the sun shone, as it surely never did before, and
Kittie gayly laughed and chatted, but trying to be not too happy, as was
consistent with the deep sympathy felt and expressed for suffering Kat,
who had vanished beyond the power of sight or search, when at eight
o'clock, a merry party halted at the gate, and the home girls, gayly
escorted Kittie and her baskets down the walk.
That was a dismal morning to be sure. Kat did her portion of the work
before any of the other girls came up stairs, and no one saw her again
that morning, for with a volume of history, "St. Elmo," and six apples,
she departed for the back roof, where she sat down and cried as hard as
ever she could for five minutes, then opened the history, and took a
fierce bite out of the biggest apple.
"There, I won't cry another tear, it's a blessing that I wasn't shut up
for the day, instead of being allowed to roam around, when I can't let
things alone that I'm told to. I'm going to learn a chapter of this
history, now, before I read a word of 'St. Elmo,' though I don't see the
use. Whatever do I care about the Edwards' and Henrys' and all that!"
And then Kat shook herself, opened her book, and valiantly attacked
Henry the Fifth, with every possible intention of doing just exactly
what she said; but in about ten minutes a little puff of wind sailed
across the roof, tossed open the cover of 'St. Elmo,' fluttered the
leaves, then flew away, leaving them open, just where Edna goes to the
old church for the last time, and Kat's eyes strayed right down to the
tempting words, and somehow they did not come back at once.
That old roof was just like all the rest of the house, roomy, shady and
cool. The flourishing top of a huge apple-tree reached over one side of
it, with tempting seats in its boughs, and on another side, was the wide
roomy window, with its worn sill, that led into the garret of the main
part of the house. Solid comfort had it always been to the girls, and
sometimes on warm Sunday afternoons, all the family might be found,
distributed over its flat, roomy surface, with old comforts and pillows,
and a good supply of books and fans.
Crash! went something suddenly and away sailed "St. Elmo," to bump his
villainously fascinating head against the chimney, while Kat jerked her
history open again and heard the profoundest and most melancholy sigh.
"What's the use! 'Henry the Fifth was born,'--I wonder who cares, dear
me, I wish Kittie was here! 'Was born on'"--But, as if in answer to that
wish so heartily uttered, there came two arms around her neck, and
there was Kittie, laughing gayly as she nodded her head.
"I just wonder if you thought I would go to a nutting party, when you
couldn't," she exclaimed. "I guess I haven't forgotten who was whipped
in school the other day to save me. Bless me! Studying history!"
"Why, Kittie Dering!" was all the answer, she received from astonished
Kat, "Didn't you go!"
"Looks as if I didn't, don't it?"
"And just for me?"
"Just for you!"
Thereupon, Bea, who was watching at the window, went down stairs, and
reported that Kittie and Kat were having a "love feast" out on the roof.
That afternoon, amusements flagged. It was unusually warm for so late in
the year, and Kat stretched lazily out on a bench, under the trees,
while Kittie sat on the grass, and enjoyed herself pleasantly with
nothing. "I tell you," exclaimed the latter, with a hearty jump,
occasioned partly, by a new idea, partly by the sight of a huge spider,
that was lumbering over the grass towards her. "Let's go over to the new
church."
"What for?"
"Walk on the foundation; it's all finished and splendid to race on all
the way round."
"Jolly idea," cried Kat, jumping from her bench, forgetting a previous
assertion, that it was, "too hot to move!" and away they went, down the
walk, at the usual break-neck speed taken by them, when in a hurry;
Kittie rushing through the gate, while Kat nimbly cleared the fence.
Nobody was around to see, or be horrified, for it was on the edge of
town, and anyhow, it seemed utterly impossible to convince these girls
that they were nearly thirteen years' old, and ought to stop being such
hoydens. Bea's little cautions, Ernestine's careful talks and examples
of grace and dignity, Olive's open ridicule, and Jean's childish wonder,
were all set aside, by a quiet smile from mama, or papa's hearty
exclamation of--"let them alone--they're the only boys I've got." So
Kittie and Kat romped to their heart's content, while mama took care
that it did not make them too rude, and mended their torn clothes, with
a patient smile, sometimes saying to herself: "Never mind, it makes them
happy and strong; so, as long as I am well, and have the time, I'll not
complain of a few rips and tears."
The new church, was only around the corner in a large green field, and
the foundation, broad, and not too nigh, was a tempting place to run; so
they clambered up, and raced back and forth, and all around several
times, 'till out of breath, then Kat paused, and looked about with a
contemplative and venturesome air.
"See here, Kittie, I'm going to walk across that narrow wall, where they
haven't finished."
"Pretty high; you'd better not;" replied Kittie, measuring the proposed
walk with a careful eye. "How will you get up?"
"Climb; it's only a step or two higher than this."
Kittie leisurely followed the more adventuresome twin, and called out
suddenly: "Kat, there's an immense mud-hole at one side; looks as if it
might be deep too; better hold on."
"Hurrah!" shouted Kat, in answer, as she balanced herself on the top of
the narrow wall. "Here I go!" And there she did go, sure enough, for
turning to nod triumphantly at Kittie, away went her balance, and after
two or three of the wildest, most fearful struggles, down came Kat, head
and heels right into the mud-hole.
"Oh, my goodness,--ha, ha,--my gracious; Oh-h! Kat Dering!" shrieked
Kittie, dancing wildly up and down. "Oh, Kat; if I ever--what a--a
sight! Oh--my!" and away went Kittie in another shriek, that pretty
nearly knocked her off the wall, and even made Kat smile while the tears
trickled down her muddy cheeks.
"I'm sunk clear to my knees," she cried despondently. "And my wrist
feels so funny; Kittie, come, help me."
Kittie jumped down in a hurry; examined the limp and already swelling
wrist with anxious gravity, and then nearly strangled with laughter
when, after several vigorous tugs and struggles, Kat came out of the
mud, leaving both her slippers hopelessly buried, and her clothes so
heavy she could hardly walk.
[Illustration: KAT AND KIT.]
"Oh, Kittie! what shall I do," she cried, giving up entirely, between
the sharp pain in her wrist, and the speedy arrival of this second
disgrace. "It's only yesterday, that I crawled into the house in this
fix; I can't go again."
"Never mind; I'll go," said Kittie, lost in sympathy. "Everybody is in
the front part of the house, and I'll slip in the back way, go in over
the roof, and bring you some clothes. Just sit down here and wait; I'll
hurry, and it'll be all right."
So Kat sat down, quite pale with the painful wrist, and meditated, in a
desperate fashion, on her inability to keep out of trouble and mischief;
But Kittie was back in an incredibly short space of time, all flushed
and panting, and with a little bundle of clothes tucked under her arm.
"Here Kat is a skirt, and dress, and stockings, and my slippers," she
cried, running inside the wall where Kat sat forlornly.
"No one saw me; here hurry. How's your wrist?"
"Hurts," said Kat briefly, finding tears inclined to obstruct her
utterance; and then they were silent, while the muddy garments were
hastily laid aside and the dry ones slipped on; and the two started
round-a-bouts for home.
A little while later, Kittie appeared at the sitting-room door, where
the girls were sewing with mother, while Ernestine trilled and warbled
at the piano. Mrs. Dering came out to the hall in answer to Kittie's
beckon, and received this somewhat incoherent report:
"Kat's upstairs; we walked the foundation, and she fell off the high
part; I took her some clothes, but I don't know what she's done to her
wrist;" and Mrs. Dering did not waste any time trying to get a
straighter report, but hurried up stairs, where Kat was lying on the
bed, moaning and trying not to cry, with the painfully swollen wrist,
laid out on a pillow. Twenty minutes' later the doctor was there with
splints and bandages, and Kat, looking into his eyes with a vague alarm,
asked, after he had examined it: "How long before I can use it?"
"Many weeks, Kathleen."
"Why, is it badly sprained?"
"Worse, I think, my dear little girl, for it is pretty badly broken."