awkward, and felt as if she were all legs and elbows, and angles and
joints. Happily, her head was so full of other things, of plans and
schemes, and fancies of all sorts, that she didn't often take time to
remember how tall she was. She was a dear, loving child, for all her
careless habits, and made bushels of good resolutions every week of her
life, only unluckily she never kept any of them. She had fits of
responsibility about the other children, and longed to set them a good
example, but when the chance came, she generally forgot to do so. Katy's
days flew like the wind; for when she wasn't studying lessons, or sewing
and darning with Aunt Izzie, which she hated extremely, there were
always so many delightful schemes rioting in her brains, that all she
wished for was ten pairs of hands to carry them out. These same active
brains got her into perpetual scrapes. She was fond of building castles
in the air, and dreaming of the time when something she had done would
make her famous, so that everybody would hear of her, and want to know
her. I don't think she had made up her mind what this wonderful thing
was to be; but while thinking about it she often forgot to learn a
lesson, or to lace her boots, and then she had a bad mark, or a scolding
from Aunt Izzie. At such times she consoled herself with planning how,
by and by, she would be beautiful and beloved, and amiable as an angel.
A great deal was to happen to Katy before that time came. Her eyes,
which were black, were to turn blue; her nose was to lengthen and
straighten, and her mouth, quite too large at present to suit the part
of a heroine, was to be made over into a sort 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.