What Katy Did
3.5/5
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About this ebook
Susan Coolidge
Susan Coolidge was born Sarah Chauncey Woolsey in 1835 in Cleveland, Ohio. She worked as a nurse during the American Civil War, after which she began to write. She lived with her parents in their house in Rhode Island until she died.
Read more from Susan Coolidge
Just Sixteen. Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5What Katy Did Next Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Big Book of Christmas Tales: 250+ Short Stories, Fairytales and Holiday Myths & Legends Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsWhat Katy Did (Mermaids Classics) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5WHAT KATY DID AT SCHOOL - More adventures of Katy Carr Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsWhat Katy Did Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5What Katy Did At School (Mermaids Classics) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Round Dozen Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCLOVER (Children's Classics Series): The Wonderful Adventures of Katy Carr's Sister in Colorado Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Eyebright A Story Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsClover Carr Chronicles (Illustrated Edition) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Katy Carr Collection: What Katy Did, What Katy Did at School, What Katy Did Next, Clover, In the High Valley & Curly Locks Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsIn the High Valley Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Twilight Stories Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsWhat Katy Did - Complete Illustrated Trilogy: What Katy Did, What Katy Did at School & What Katy Did Next Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Reviews for What Katy Did
271 ratings16 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5As a child I always wanted to read this novel, but never got around to it. Even almost grown, the novel still captivated me. Dear Katy with all her faults, trying so hard to do the right thing, and then the accident...I could put the book down until I knew if Katy would be alright.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5It's... very moralistic. In a 19th-century, Christian fashion. HOWEVER, I still love it. It's such a ridiculous story and the bit about the School of Pain made me want to vomit (in fact, it reminded me of a stupendous article that appeared in Lupus UK about how chronic illness is really a "beautiful beast within" which is actually the most offensively stupid thing I have ever had the misfortune to see in my entire life, including that film where Jack Black is a luchador) but otherwise there is something so wonderfully compelling in the Katy character that will never make me able to hate this book despite me disagreeing with this whole moral construct. I don't actually think Katy is a less interesting character after she "grows up". There's nothing wrong with learning to be patient with others and to love your neighbour and try to see the best even in the worst situations. It just shouldn't be presented as a requirement of personhood. Anyway, compared to all the other turn-of-the-century sentimental crap that came out of American children's literature (Little Women, Anne of Green Gables, Pollyanna... VOMIT) this is a lot better, and I remember enjoying the sequels too! Good to read on a tiring journey.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I used to love this book so much when I was little. I'm pretty sure I had an abridged edition, because this seemed longer than the one I read, and I kept coming across things that were new to me. I reread this one as an ebook, though, so it was a little hard to judge the length and compare it.
Anyway, it's obvious now what this book was trying to do -- how it was trying to get girls to learn to be patient and kind and content, and to be what everyone else wants/needs them to be, and all of that. I noticed that when I was younger, but I focused on the story more. I have to agree with whoever said that the lively Katy of the beginning of the book is perhaps more interesting, but I liked all of it. The story wasn't so very original, maybe, but I loved the presence of Cousin Helen, who sounded so very much like someone I'd like to know.
I was surprised at how much I still liked it now, actually, and how much it could still interest me. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5If every young girl should read just one book, it should be this.
This is a childhood favourite of mine, I love it. It's just the way a children's story should be, simple, slightly nostalgic to an older audience, and with a valuable lesson to learn. - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5So this book was sorta weird, in as much as I'm not really sure what I think of it. I started out really liking it. The antics of Katy and her siblings made me laugh out loud several times. Katy is a tomboy, impulsive, always getting into some scrape, saying the first that pops in her head...in other words, fun. The kind of girl most of us would have loved for a friend when we were that age.
~*~*~*~SPOILERS TO FOLLOW~*~*~*~*~*~
The problem, though, is when Cousin Helen comes in half way through the book. Not surprisngly, Helen and Katy are polar opposites. Helen is paralyzed from the waist down (we surmise), but in spite of her trials, is well-mannered, soft-spoken, never says an ill-word about anyone, never complains, blah blah blah. Of course, the moral of the story is that all good little girls should be like Helen. Katy resolves to try, but of course fails. And because she fails, she has a tragic accident that leaves her bed-ridden for a couple of years. And naturally, during this time, she sees how right Helen is and becomes this wonderful, saint of a girl. Yada yada.
I could have gotten past all that cheesiness, though. It was, after all, written in the 1800s. And in a lot of ways, the book reminds me of Little Women (which I did not like), with its Christian over-tones. However, the tragic tale of Helen was just too much for me. It was ridiculously implausible. Helen was engaged to be wed to Alex. Unfortunately, she has a tragic accident (we never learn what) that leaves her horrible ill; for a while, they think she will die. Helen ultimately survives, but will remain an invalid the rest of her life (again, they never come out and say she's paralyzed, but one can guess). Now that's all well and good. But HERE'S where it gets weird. Alex still wants to marry her, but she insists he cannot. She doesn't want to tie him down like that. Right noble of her, huh? SO THEN, Alex marries someone else and MOVES IN NEXT DOOR TO HELEN. Helen and his wife become best of friends. Alex and his wife have a daughter who they name Helen. Alex and his wife never do anything without first consulting Helen. I'm sorry, but are you F-ING serious? Am I the only one who sees the dysfunction in this? I was on board with refusing to marry the guy, but then to live next door to him and wife? And become one big, happy family? Come on. It sounds like "Days of our Lives" for the 1800s. Had I read this when I was in grade school, I probably would have glossed over it as "romantic." As an adult, though? I find it bizarre and creepy.
In short, Cousin Helen ruined this book for me. It was okay. It was so funny in several places, I feel obligated to give it 3 stars, rather than 2. But do I consider it a must-read classic? Definitely not. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Twelve year old Katy Carr and her five brothers and sisters have all kinds of fun adventures. A thicket becomes "Paradise", a hayloft a place for a "feast", and the entire house a playground for games invented by Katy. Katy means well, but is impulsive and irresponsible and is constantly getting into scrapes and trouble. After the Carr's Cousin Helen visits, Katy vows to be more like Cousin Helen, who is saint-like despite the fact that she had a bad accident and hasn't been able to walk for years. Unfortunately, Katy gets into the worst scrape of her life the very next day - disobeying her Aunt Izzie, she herself has a terrible accident. It will take Katy a long time to recover and in the course of her recovery she grows into a beautiful, responsible young woman. I loved reading "What Katy Did" as a child and it's still fun to read as an adult. Written in the 1870's, it is definitely old-fashioned, but it makes me yearn for the days when life was so much simpler. Susan Coolidge writes as if she is sitting opposite the reader, verbally telling the story and uses words that children might use such as "honestest" which makes the book a pleasant read. Coolidge also includes humor that children won't get, but adults will, such as when Katy gives Aunt Izzie $7.25 and a long list of Christmas presents to buy with that small amount of money. Katy is a very realistic heroine; yes, she gets into mischief, but what child doesn't, and she means well. The rest of the children are equally engaging, for me Elsie stands out. Cousin Helen is indeed saintly, almost unbelievable in her goodness, but Coolidge makes her believable also. "What Katy Did" is a nice, old-fashioned read.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I. love. this. book. When I first discovered it in our bookshelf, I absolutely fell in love with the characters, obviously Katy most of all. For years I felt very acutely the injustice of not having been born in the early 20th century in a countryside somewhere in Devon or Kent. This is a book I will hold on to forever, and one of the few where I actually have an emotional attachment to. Definitely going to save this one for any future spawn I may produce. It's got everything a children's classic should contain. The main character, Katy, is a precocious young girl, the eldest of a large family. She's always getting herself into scrapes, as young children do, and is imaginative and lively, always thinking up stories in their garden, which actually sometimes get her into trouble. One day, as a result of her disobedience, she gets into an accident that will change her life forever. However, this accident unleashes a series of events which actually enrich her, fill her with compassion and kindness, and most importantly the strength to move on in the face of her adversity. The book had a great impact on me as a child, and for a month afterwards I tried very hard to be like the serene and wonderful and impossibly perfect Helen, one of the characters in the book. A month of commitment from a 10 year old is pretty impressive, looking back!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I'm not sure if I ever read this as a child - although it was one of my Mum's favourite books I found it hard to get into. I enjoyed it as an adult though, the enthusiastic joy of Katy and her siblings and their games and adventure, and then her growth and learning after her injury. I can see why people despise it for the 'pain is a lesson from God so we can become patient people' theme, which is very dangerous and needs to be handled with a lot of care, but I can also see why it is a classic.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5As a child I always wanted to read this novel, but never got around to it. Even almost grown, the novel still captivated me. Dear Katy with all her faults, trying so hard to do the right thing, and then the accident...I could put the book down until I knew if Katy would be alright.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A great read for anyone.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I actually really enjoyed this book. I know it's a bit old-fashioned now, and obviously things have changed a lot since this book was written. Girls aren't expected to be perfect little angels these days. But it's still a very sweet book. It was interesting to see Katy change from a rebellious little girl into a polite and kind young woman.One thing about this book that I didn't really like was the ending. I thought the last chapter seemed a bit rushed, and it seemed to me like the happy ending was a bit of an afterthought, and slightly unlikely too.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I know I read and re-read this as a kid and after reading Katy by Jacqueline Wilson I can see some of the problematic aspects to it. But also there are aspects that are period details, yes there were injuries that could happen to a back that are now treated with physio and injections (and I'm currently going through some of that myself, incidentally) but the best treatment of the time was rest and this is what Katy endures when she badly injures her spine after a stupid accident that is down to being a bit headstrong, which is, of course, disapproved of in this period. I had forgotten the neighbour with the counterfeiting husband that Katy befriends, but overall this is a story that in context is interesting. And I did enjoy the update I do think kids need to read stories from different periods to learn how life was and is different for different people in different places and times. The mild anti-Irish and anti-black sentiment is a discussion that would be useful for people too. Paternalism is another discussion that didn't come up in the afterwords though it was implied when Katy did some of the "good deeds". Cousin Helen does veer into preachy occasionally.Interesting, worth re-reading but the enjoyment was somewhat spoilt by adult views. Though I did empathise with Katy and her getting lost in reading when I was younger, I still remember the resonance.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Hm. Yes it's preachy. Of course we'd like Katy to be able to have fun, and not have to learn to be a little housewife while bedridden while still a young teen. But the thing is, in those days before antibiotics, people did die, and other people did have to step up. And apparently this series is as to a memoir - inspired at least by the author's childhood. So, given all the context, I'm glad I kept reading the series. In fact, I'll give this 2.5 stars.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I loved reading this book. It was one of my favourites as a child and I was half afraid I wouldn't enjoy it as much now I'm all grown up.I wasn't disappointed however.This book is perfect for anyone who wants their kids to read some wholesome old fashioned literature.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Katie wants to be a better person but she really doesn't begin to improve until she becomes disabled.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5A charming old Children’s book about a little girl who hurts her spine in an accident and must remain in bed for almost two years. During that time she learns some important lessons about humility, patience and helping others and well, being able to see the positive side of her situation. The book deals with some serious issues as death, suffering and handicaps in a good way for Children - unfortunately Susan Coolidge is too eager to spread moral lessons all over the place. A more subtle approach would have been nice.
Book preview
What Katy Did - Susan Coolidge
To Five.
Six of us once, my darlings, played together
Beneath green boughs, which faded long ago,
Made merry in the golden summer weather,
Pelted each other with new-fallen snow.
Did the sun always shine? I can’t remember
A single cloud that dimmed the happy blue,—
A single lightning-bolt or peal of thunder,
To daunt our bright, unfearing lives: can you?
We quarrelled often, but made peace as quickly,
Shed many tears, but laughed the while they fell,
Had our small woes, our childish bumps and bruises,
But Mother always kissed and made them well.
Is it long since?—it seems a moment only:
Yet here we are in bonnets and tail-coats,
Grave men of business, members of committees,
Our play-time ended: even Baby votes!
And star-eyed children, in whose innocent faces
Kindles the gladness which was once our own,
Crowd round our knees, with sweet and coaxing voices,
Asking for stories of that old-time home.
"Were you once little too?" they say, astonished;
Did you too play? How funny! tell us how.
Almost we start, forgetful for a moment;
Almost we answer, "We are little now!"
Dear friend and lover, whom to-day we christen,
Forgive such brief bewilderment,—thy true
And kindly hand we hold; we own thee fairest.
But ah! our yesterday was precious too.
So, darlings, take this little childish story,
In which some gleams of the old sunshine play,
And, as with careless hands you turn the pages,
Look back and smile, as here I smile to-day.
The Little Carrs
I was sitting in the meadows one day, not long ago, at a place where
there was a small brook. It was a hot day. The sky was very blue, and
white clouds, like great swans, went floating over it to and fro. Just
opposite me was a clump of green rushes, with dark velvety spikes, and
among them one single tall, red cardinal flower, which was bending over
the brook as if to see its own beautiful face in the water. But the
cardinal did not seem to be vain.
The picture was so pretty that I sat a long time enjoying it. Suddenly,
close to me, two small voices began to talk—or to sing, for I couldn’t
tell exactly which it was. One voice was shrill; the other, which was a
little deeper, sounded very positive and cross. They were evidently
disputing about something, for they said the same words over and over
again. These were the words—Katy did.
Katy didn’t.
She did.
"She
didn’t.
She did.
She didn’t.
Did.
Didn’t." I think they must
have repeated them at least a hundred times.
I got up from my seat to see if I could find the speakers; and sure
enough, there on one of the cat-tail bulrushes, I spied two tiny
pale-green creatures. Their eyes seemed to be weak, for they both wore
black goggles. They had six legs apiece,—two short ones, two not so
short, and two very long. These last legs had joints like the springs to
buggy-tops; and as I watched, they began walking up the rush, and then I
saw that they moved exactly like an old-fashioned gig. In fact, if I
hadn’t been too big, I think I should have heard them creak as they
went along. They didn’t say anything so long as I was there, but the
moment my back was turned they began to quarrel again, and in the same
old words—Katy did.
Katy didn’t.
She did.
She didn’t.
As I walked home I fell to thinking about another Katy,—a Katy I once
knew, who planned to do a great many wonderful things, and in the end
did none of them, but something quite different,—something she didn’t
like at all at first, but which, on the whole, was a great deal better
than any of the doings she had dreamed about. And as I thought, this
little story grew in my head, and I resolved to write it down for you. I
have done it; and, in memory of my two little friends on the bulrush, I
give it their name. Here it is—the story of What Katy Did.
Katy’s name was Katy Carr. She lived in the town of Burnet, which wasn’t
a very big town, but was growing as fast as it knew how. The house she
lived in stood on the edge of the town. It was a large square house,
white, with green blinds, and had a porch in front, over which roses and
clematis made a thick bower. Four tall locust trees shaded the gravel
path which led to the front gate. On one side of the house was an
orchard; on the other side were wood piles and barns, and an ice-house.
Behind was a kitchen garden sloping to the south; and behind that a
pasture with a brook in it, and butternut trees, and four cows—two red
ones, a yellow one with sharp horns tipped with tin, and a dear little
white one named Daisy.
There were six of the Carr children—four girls and two boys. Katy, the
oldest, was twelve years old; little Phil, the youngest, was four, and
the rest fitted in between.
Dr. Carr, their Papa, was a dear, kind, busy man, who was away from home
all day, and sometimes all night, too, taking care of sick people. The
children hadn’t any Mamma. She had died when Phil was a baby, four years
before my story began. Katy could remember her pretty well; to the rest
she was but a sad, sweet name, spoken on Sunday, and at prayer-times, or
when Papa was especially gentle and solemn.
In place of this Mamma, whom they recollected so dimly, there was Aunt
Izzie, Papa’s sister, who came to take care of them when Mamma went away
on that long journey, from which, for so many months, the little ones
kept hoping she might return. Aunt Izzie was a small woman, sharp-faced
and thin, rather old-looking, and very neat and particular about
everything. She meant to be kind to the children, but they puzzled her
much, because they were not a bit like herself when she was a child.
Aunt Izzie had been a gentle, tidy little thing, who loved to sit as
Curly Locks did, sewing long seams in the parlor, and to have her head
patted by older people, and be told that she was a good girl; whereas
Katy tore her dress every day, hated sewing, and didn’t care a button
about being called good,
while Clover and Elsie shied off like
restless ponies when any one tried to pat their heads. It was very
perplexing to Aunt Izzie, and she found it hard to quite forgive the
children for being so unaccountable,
and so little like the good boys
and girls in Sunday-school memoirs, who were the young people she liked
best, and understood most about.
Then Dr. Carr was another person who worried her. He wished to have the
children hardy and bold, and encouraged climbing and rough plays, in
spite of the bumps and ragged clothes which resulted. In fact, there was
just one half-hour of the day when Aunt Izzie was really satisfied about
her charges, and that was the half-hour before breakfast, when she had
made a law that they were all to sit in their little chairs and learn
the Bible verse for the day. At this time she looked at them with
pleased eyes, they were all so spick and span, with such nicely-brushed
jackets and such neatly-combed hair. But the moment the bell rang her
comfort was over. From that time on, they were what she called "not fit
to be seen." The neighbors pitied her very much. They used to count the
sixty stiff white pantalette legs hung out to dry every Monday morning,
and say to each other what a sight of washing those children made, and
what a chore it must be for poor Miss Carr to keep them so nice. But
poor Miss Carr didn’t think them at all nice; that was the worst of it.
"Clover, go up stairs and wash your hands! Dorry, pick your hat off the
floor and hang it on the nail! Not that nail—the third nail from the
corner!" These were the kind of things Aunt Izzie was saying all day
long. The children minded her pretty well, but they didn’t exactly love
her, I fear. They called her Aunt Izzie
always, never Aunty.
Boys
and girls will know what that meant.
I want to show you the little Carrs, and I don’t know that I could ever
have a better chance than one day when five out of the six were perched
on top of the ice-house, like chickens on a roost. This ice-house was
one of their favorite places. It was only a low roof set over a hole in
the ground, and, as it stood in the middle of the side-yard, it always
seemed to the children that the shortest road to every place was up one
of its slopes and down the other. They also liked to mount to the
ridge-pole, and then, still keeping the sitting position, to let go, and
scrape slowly down over the warm shingles to the ground. It was bad for
their shoes and trousers, of course, but what of that? Shoes and
trousers, and clothes generally, were Aunt Izzie’s affair; theirs was to
slide and enjoy themselves.
Clover, next in age to Katy, sat in the middle. She was a fair, sweet
dumpling of a girl, with thick pig-tails of light brown hair, and
short-sighted blue eyes, which seemed to hold tears, just ready to fall
from under the blue. Really, Clover was the jolliest little thing in the
world; but these eyes, and her soft cooing voice, always made people
feel like petting her and taking her part. Once, when she was very
small, she ran away with Katy’s doll, and when Katy pursued, and tried
to take it from her, Clover held fast and would not let go. Dr. Carr,
who wasn’t attending particularly, heard nothing but the pathetic tone
of Clover’s voice, as she said: Me won’t! Me want dolly!
and, without
stopping to inquire, he called out sharply: "For shame, Katy! give your
sister her doll at once!" which Katy, much surprised, did; while
Clover purred in triumph, like a satisfied kitten. Clover was sunny and
sweet-tempered, a little indolent, and very modest about herself,
though, in fact, she was particularly clever in all sorts of games, and
extremely droll and funny in a quiet way. Everybody loved her, and she
loved everybody, especially Katy, whom she looked up to as one of the
wisest people in the world.
Pretty little Phil sat next on the roof to Clover, and she held him
tight with her arm. Then came Elsie, a thin, brown child of eight, with
beautiful dark eyes, and crisp, short curls covering the whole of her
small head. Poor little Elsie was the odd one
among the Carrs. She
didn’t seem to belong exactly to either the older or the younger
children. The great desire and ambition of her heart was to be allowed
to go about with Katy and Clover and Cecy Hall, and to know their
secrets, and be permitted to put notes into the little post-offices they
were forever establishing in all sorts of hidden places. But they didn’t
want Elsie, and used to tell her to "run away and play with the
children," which hurt her feelings very much. When she wouldn’t run
away, I am sorry to say they ran away from her, which, as their legs
were longest, it was easy to do. Poor Elsie, left behind, would cry
bitter tears, and, as she was too proud to play much with Dorry and
John, her principal comfort was tracking the older ones about and
discovering their mysteries, especially the post-offices, which were her
greatest grievance. Her eyes were bright and quick as a bird’s. She
would peep and peer, and follow and watch, till at last, in some odd,
unlikely place, the crotch of a tree, the middle of the asparagus bed,
or, perhaps, on the very top step of the scuttle ladder, she spied the
little paper box, with its load of notes, all ending with: "Be sure and
not let Elsie know." Then she would seize the box, and, marching up to
wherever the others were, she would throw it down, saying, defiantly:
There’s your old post-office!
but feeling all the time just like
crying. Poor little Elsie! In almost every big family, there is one of
these unmated, left-out children. Katy, who had the finest plans in the
world for being heroic,
and of use, never saw, as she drifted on her
heedless way, that here, in this lonely little sister, was the very
chance she wanted for being a comfort to somebody who needed comfort
very much. She never saw it, and Elsie’s heavy heart went uncheered.
Dorry and Joanna sat on the two ends of the ridge-pole. Dorry was six
years old; a pale, pudgy boy, with rather a solemn face, and smears of
molasses on the sleeve of his jacket. Joanna, whom the children called
John,
and Johnnie,
was a square, splendid child, a year younger than
Dorry; she had big brave eyes, and a wide rosy mouth, which always
looked ready to laugh. These two were great friends, though Dorry seemed
like a girl who had got into boy’s clothes by mistake, and Johnnie like
a boy who, in a fit of fun, had borrowed his sister’s frock. And now, as
they all sat there chattering and giggling, the window above opened, a
glad shriek was heard, and Katy’s head appeared. In her hand she held a
heap of stockings, which she waved triumphantly.
Hurray!
she cried, "all done, and Aunt Izzie says we may go. Are you
tired out waiting? I couldn’t help it, the holes were so big, and took
so long. Hurry up, Clover, and get the things! Cecy and I will be down
in a minute."
The children jumped up gladly, and slid down the roof. Clover fetched a
couple of baskets from the wood-shed. Elsie ran for her kitten. Dorry
and John loaded themselves with two great fagots of green boughs. Just
as they were ready, the side-door banged, and Katy and Cecy Hall came
into the yard.
I must tell you about Cecy. She was a great friend of the children’s,
and lived in a house next door. The yards of the houses were only
separated by a green hedge, with no gate, so that Cecy spent two-thirds
of her time at Dr. Carr’s, and was exactly like one of the