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 verynext Monday.
Monday was apt to be rather a stormy day at the Carrs'. There was thebig wash to be done, and Aunt Izzie always seemed a little harder toplease, and the servants a good deal crosser than on common days. But Ithink it was also, in part, the fault of the children, who, after thequiet of Sunday, were specially frisky and uproarious, and readier thanusual for all sorts of mischief.
To Clover and Elsie, Sunday seemed to begin at Saturday's bed-time, whentheir hair was wet, and screwed up in papers, that it might curl nextday. Elsie's waved naturally, so Aunt Izzie didn't think it necessary topin her papers very tight; but Clover's thick, straight locks requiredto be pinched hard before they would give even the least twirl, and toher, Saturday night was one of misery. She would lie tossing, andturning, and trying first one side of her head and then the other; butwhichever way she placed herself, the hard knobs and the pins stuck outand hurt her; so when at last she fell asleep, it was face down, withher small nose buried in the pillow, which was not comfortable, and gaveher bad dreams. In consequence of these sufferings Clover hated curls,and when she "made up" stories for the younger children, they alwayscommenced: "The hair of the beautiful princess was as straight as ayard-stick, and she never did it up in papers--never!"
Sunday always began with a Bible story, followed by a breakfast of bakedbeans, which two things were much tangled up together in Philly's mind.After breakfast the children studied their Sunday-school lessons, andthen the big carryall came round, and they drove to church, which was agood mile off. It was a large, old-fashioned church, with galleries, andlong pews with high red-cushioned seats.
The choir sat at the end, behind a low, green curtain, which slippedfrom side to side on rods. When the sermon began, they would draw thecurtain aside and show themselves, all ready to listen, but the rest ofthe time they kept it shut. Katy always guessed that they must be havinggood times behind the green curtain--eating orange-peel, perhaps, orreading the Sunday-school books--and she often wished she might sit upthere among them.
The seat in Dr. Carr's pew was so high that none of the children, exceptKaty, could touch the floor, even with the point of a toe. This madetheir feet go to sleep; and when they felt the queer little pin-prickswhich drowsy feet use to rouse themselves with, they would slide off theseat, and sit on the benches to get over it. Once there, and well hiddenfrom view, it was almost impossible not to whisper. Aunt Izzie wouldfrown and shake her head, but it did little good, especially as Phil andDorry were sleeping with their heads on her lap, and it took both herhands to keep them from rolling off into the bottom of the pew. Whengood old Dr. Stone said, "Finally, my brethren," she would begin wakingthem up. It was hard work sometimes, but generally she succeeded, sothat during the last hymn the two stood together on the seat, quitebrisk and refreshed, sharing a hymn-book, and making believe to singlike the older people.
After church came Sunday-school, which the children liked very much, andthen they went home to dinner, which was always the same on Sunday--coldcorned-beef, baked potatoes, and rice pudding. They did not go to churchin the afternoon unless they wished, but were pounced upon by Katyinstead, and forced to listen to the reading of _The Sunday Visitor_, areligious paper, of which she was the editor. This paper was partlywritten, partly printed, on a large sheet of foolscap, and had at thetop an ornamental device, in lead pencil, with "Sunday Visitor" in themiddle of it. The reading part began with a dull little piece of thekind which grown people call an editorial, about "Neatness," or"Obedience," or "Punctuality." The children always fidgeted whenlistening to this, partly, I think, because it aggravated them to haveKaty recommending on paper, as very easy, the virtues which she herselffound it so hard to practise in real life. Next came anecdotes aboutdogs and elephants and snakes, taken from the Natural History book, andnot very interesting, because the audience knew them by heart already. Ahymn or two followed, or a string of original verses, and, last of all,a chapter of "Little Maria and Her Sisters," a dreadful tale, in whichKaty drew so much moral, and made such personal allusions to the faultsof the rest, that it was almost more than they could bear. In fact,there had just been a nursery rebellion on the subject. You must knowthat, for some weeks back, Katy had been too lazy to prepare any fresh_Sunday Visitors_, and so had forced the children to sit in a row andlisten to the back numbers, which she read aloud from the verybeginning! "Little Maria" sounded much worse when taken in these largedoses, and Clover and Elsie, combining for once, made up their minds toendure it no longer. So, watching their chance, they carried off thewhole edition, and poked it into the kitchen fire, where they watched itburn with a mixture of fear and delight which it was comical to witness.They dared not confess the deed, but it was impossible not to lookconscious when Katy was flying about and rummaging after her losttreasure, and she suspected them, and was very irate in consequence.
The evenings of Sunday were always spent in repeating hymns to Papa andAunt Izzie. This was fun, for they all took turns, and there was quite ascramble as to who should secure the favorites, such as, "The west hathshut its gate of gold," and "Go when the morning shineth." On the whole,Sunday was a sweet and pleasant day, and the children thought so; but,from its being so much quieter than other days, they always got up onMonday full of life and mischief, and ready to fizz over at any minute,like champagne bottles with the wires just cut.
This particular Monday was rainy, so there couldn't be any out-doorplay, which was the usual vent for over-high spirits. The little ones,cooped up in the nursery all the afternoon, had grown perfectly riotous.Philly was not quite well, and had been taking medicine. The medicinewas called _Elixir Pro_. It was a great favorite with Aunt Izzie, whokept a bottle of it always on hand. The bottle was large and black, witha paper label tied round its neck, and the children shuddered at thesight of it.
After Phil had stopped roaring and spluttering, and play had begunagain, the dolls, as was only natural, were taken ill also, and so was"Pikery," John's little yellow chair, which she always pretended was adoll too. She kept an old apron tied on his back, and generally took himto bed with her--not into bed, that would have been troublesome; butclose by, tied to the bed-post. Now, as she told the others, Pikery wasvery sick indeed. He must have some medicine, just like Philly.
"Give him some water," suggested Dorry.
"No," said John, decidedly, "it must be black and out of a bottle, or itwon't do any good."
After thinking a moment, she trotted quietly across the passage intoAunt Izzie's room. Nobody was there, but John knew where the Elixir Prowas kept--in the closet on the third shelf. She pulled one of thedrawers out a little, climbed up, and reached it down. The children wereenchanted when she marched back, the bottle in one hand, the cork in theother, and proceeded to pour a liberal dose on to Pikery's wooden seat,which John called his lap.
"There! there! my poor boy," she said, patting his shoulder--I mean hisarm--"swallow it down--it'll do you good."
Just then Aunt Izzie came in, and to her dismay saw a long trickle ofsomething dark and sticky running down on to the carpet. It was Pikery'smedicine, which he had refused to swallow.
"What is that?" she asked sharply.
"My baby is sick," faltered John, displaying the guilty bottle.
Aunt Izzie rapped her over the head with a thimble, and told her thatshe was a very naughty child, whereupon Johnnie pouted, and cried alittle. Aunt Izzie wiped up the slop, and taking away the Elixir,retired with it to her closet, saying that she "never knew anything likeit--it was always so on Mondays."
What further pranks were played in the nursery that day, I cannotpretend to tell. But late in the afternoon a dreadful screaming washeard, and when people rushed from all parts of the house to see whatwas the matter, behold the nursery door was locked, and nobody could getin. Aunt Izzie called through the keyhole to have
it opened, but theroars were so loud that it was long before she could get an answer. Atlast Elsie, sobbing violently, explained that Dorry had locked the door,and now the key wouldn't turn, and they couldn't open it. _Would_ theyhave to stay there always, and starve?
"Of course you won't, you foolish child," exclaimed Aunt Izzie. "Dear,dear, what on earth will come next? Stop crying, Elsie--do you hear me?You shall all be got out in a few minutes."
And sure enough, the next thing came a rattling at the blinds, and therewas Alexander, the hired man, standing outside on a tall ladder andnodding his head at the children. The little ones forgot their fright.They flew to open the window, and frisked and jumped about Alexander ashe climbed in and unlocked the door. It struck them as being such a finething to be let out in this way, that Dorry began to rather plumehimself for fastening them in.
But Aunt Izzie didn't take this view of the case. She scolded them well,and declared they were troublesome children, who couldn't be trusted onemoment out of sight, and that she was more than half sorry she hadpromised to go to the Lecture that evening. "How do I know," sheconcluded, "that before I come home you won't have set the house onfire, or killed somebody?"
"Oh, no we won't! no we won't!" whined the children, quite moved by thisfrightful picture. But bless you--ten minutes afterward they hadforgotten all about it.
All this time Katy had been sitting on the ledge of the bookcase in theLibrary, poring over a book. It was called Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered.The man who wrote it was an Italian, but somebody had done the storyover into English. It was rather a queer book for a little girl to takea fancy to, but somehow Katy liked it very much. It told about knights,and ladies, and giants, and battles, and made her feel hot and cold byturns as she read, and as if she must rush at something, and shout, andstrike blows. Katy was naturally fond of reading. Papa encouraged it. Hekept a few books locked up, and then turned her loose in the Library.She read all sorts of things: travels, and sermons, and old magazines.Nothing was so dull that she couldn't get through with it. Anythingreally interesting absorbed her so that she never knew what was going onabout her. The little girls to whose houses she went visiting had foundthis out, and always hid away their story-books when she was expected totea. If they didn't do this, she was sure to pick one up and plunge in,and then it was no use to call her, or tug at her dress, for she neithersaw nor heard anything more, till it was time to go home.
This afternoon she read the Jerusalem till It was too dark to see anymore. On her way up stairs she met Aunt Izzie, with bonnet and shawl on.
"Where _have_ you been?" she said. "I have been calling you for the lasthalf-hour."
"I didn't hear you, ma'am."
"But where were you?" persisted Miss Izzie.
"In the Library, reading," replied Katy.
Her aunt gave a sort of sniff, but she knew Katy's ways, and said nomore.
"I'm going out to drink tea with Mrs. Hall and attend the eveningLecture," she went on. "Be sure that Clover gets her lesson, and if Cecycomes over as usual, you must send her home early. All of you must be inbed by nine."
"Yes'm," said Katy, but I fear she was not attending much, but thinking,in her secret soul, how jolly it was to have Aunt Izzie go out for once.Miss Carr was very faithful to her duties: she seldom left the children,even for an evening, so whenever she did, they felt a certain sense ofnovelty and freedom, which was dangerous as well as pleasant.
Still, I am sure that on this occasion Katy meant no mischief. Like allexcitable people she seldom did _mean_ to do wrong, she just did it whenit came into her head. Supper passed off successfully, and all mighthave gone well, had it not been that after the lessons were learned andCecy had come in, they fell to talking about "Kikeri."
Kikeri was a game which had been very popular with them a year before.They had invented it themselves, and chosen for it this queer name outof an old fairy story. It was a sort of mixture of Blindman's Buff andTag--only instead of any one's eyes being bandaged, they all played inthe dark. One of the children would stay out in the hall, which wasdimly lighted from the stairs, while the others hid themselves in thenursery. When they were all hidden, they would call out "Kikeri," as asignal for the one in the hall to come in and find them. Of course,coming from the light he could see nothing, while the others could seeonly dimly. It was very exciting to stand crouching up in a corner andwatch the dark figure stumbling about and feeling to right and left,while every now and then somebody, just escaping his clutches, wouldslip past and gain the hall, which was "Freedom Castle," with a joyfulshout of "Kikeri, Kikeri, Kikeri, Ki!" Whoever was caught had to takethe place of the catcher. For a long time this game was the delight ofthe Carr children; but so many scratches and black-and-blue spots cameof it, and so many of the nursery things were thrown down and broken,that at last Aunt Izzie issued an order that it should not be played anymore. This was almost a year since; but talking of it now put it intotheir heads to want to try it again.
"After all we didn't promise," said Cecy.
"No, and _Papa_ never said a word about our not playing it," added Katy,to whom "Papa" was authority, and must always be minded, while AuntIzzie might now and then be defied.
So they all went up stairs. Dorry and John, though half undressed, wereallowed to join the game. Philly was fast asleep in another room.
It was certainly splendid fun. Once Clover climbed up on themantel-piece and sat there, and when Katy, who was finder, groped abouta little more wildly than usual, she caught hold of Clover's foot, andcouldn't imagine where it came from. Dorry got a hard knock, and cried,and at another time Katy's dress caught on the bureau handle and wasfrightfully torn, but these were too much affairs of every day tointerfere in the least with the pleasures of Kikeri. The fun and frolicseemed to grow greater the longer they played. In the excitement, timewent on much faster than any of them dreamed. Suddenly, in the midst ofthe noise, came a sound--the sharp distinct slam of the carryall-door atthe side entrance. Aunt Izzie had returned from her Lecture.
The dismay and confusion of that moment! Cecy slipped down stairs likean eel, and fled on the wings of fear along the path which led to herhome. Mrs. Hall, as she bade Aunt Izzie good-night, and shut Dr. Carr'sfront door behind her with a bang, might have been struck with thesingular fact that a distant bang came from her own front door like asort of echo. But she was not a suspicious woman; and when she went upstairs there were Cecy's clothes neatly folded on a chair, and Cecyherself in bed, fast asleep, only with a little more color than usual inher cheeks.
Meantime, Aunt Izzie was on _her_ way up stairs, and such a panic asprevailed in the nursery! Katie felt it, and basely scuttled off to herown room, where she went to bed with all possible speed. But the othersfound it much harder to go to bed; there were so many of them, allgetting into each other's way, and with no lamp to see by. Dorry andJohn popped under the clothes half undressed, Elsie disappeared, andClover, too late for either, and hearing Aunt Izzie's step in the hall,did this horrible thing--fell on her knees, with her face buried in achair, and began to say her prayers very hard indeed.
Aunt Izzie, coming in with a candle in her hand, stood in the doorway,astonished at the spectacle. She sat down and waited for Clover to getthrough, while Clover, on her part, didn't dare to get through, but wenton repeating "Now I lay me" over and over again, in a sort of despair.At last Aunt Izzie said very grimly: "That will do, Clover, you can getup!" and Clover rose, feeling like a culprit, which she was, for it wasmuch naughtier to pretend to be praying than to disobey Aunt Izzie andbe out of bed after ten o'clock, though I think Clover hardly understoodthis then.
Aunt Izzie at once began to undress her, and while doing so asked somany questions, that before long she had got at the truth of the wholematter. She gave Clover a sharp scolding, and leaving her to wash hertearful face, she went to the bed where John and Dorry lay, fast asleep,and snoring as conspicuously as they knew how. Something strange in theappearance of the bed made her look more closely: she lifted theclo
thes, and there, sure enough, they were--half dressed, and with theirschool-boots on.
Such a shake as Aunt Izzie gave the little scamps at this discovery,would have roused a couple of dormice. Much against their will John andDorry were forced to wake up, and be slapped and scolded, and madeready for bed, Aunt Izzie standing over them all the while, like adragon. She had just tucked them warmly in, when for the first time shemissed Elsie.
"Where is my poor little Elsie?" she exclaimed.
"In bed," said Clover, meekly.
"In bed!" repeated Aunt Izzie, much amazed. Then stooping down, she gavea vigorous pull. The trundle-bed came into view, and sure enough, therewas Elsie, in full dress, shoes and all, but so fast asleep that not allAunt Izzie's shakes, and pinches, and calls, were able to rouse her. Herclothes were taken off, her boots unlaced, her night-gown put on; butthrough it all Elsie slept, and she was the only one of the children whodid not get the scolding she deserved that dreadful night.
Katy did not even pretend to be asleep when Aunt Izzie went to her room.Her tardy conscience had waked up, and she was lying in bed, verymiserable at having drawn the others into a scrape as well as herself,and at the failure of her last set of resolutions about "setting anexample to the younger ones."
So unhappy was she, that Aunt Izzie's severe words were almost a relief;and though she cried herself to sleep, it was rather from the burden ofher own thoughts than because she had been scolded.
She cried even harder the next day, for Dr. Carr talked to her moreseriously than he had ever done before. He reminded her of the time whenher Mamma died, and of how she said, "Katy must be a Mamma to the littleones, when she grows up." And he asked her if she didn't think the timewas come for beginning to take this dear place towards the children.Poor Katy! She sobbed as if her heart would break at this, and thoughshe made no promises, I think she was never quite so thoughtless again,after that day. As for the rest, Papa called them together and made themdistinctly understand that "Kikeri" was never to be played any more. Itwas so seldom that Papa forbade any games, however boisterous, that thisorder really made an impression on the unruly brood, and they never haveplayed Kikeri again, from that day to this.