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Susan Coolidge

What Katy Did

What Katy Did is an 1872 children's book written by Sarah Chauncey Woolsey under her pen name Susan Coolidge. It follows the adventures of a twelve-year-old American girl, Katy Carr, and her family who live in the fictional lakeside Ohio town of Burnet in the 1860s. Katy is a tall untidy tomboy, forever getting into scrapes but wishing to be beautiful and beloved. When a terrible accident makes her an invalid, her illness and four-year recovery gradually teach her to be as good and kind as she has always wanted.
Two sequels follow Katy as she grows up—What Katy Did at School and What Katy Did Next. Two further sequels relating the adventures of Katy's younger siblings were also published—Clover and In the High Valley. Although these were long out of print, they have now been reprinted and are available online.
Coolidge modeled Katy on her own childhood self, and the other 'Little Carrs' on her brothers and sisters
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Opiniones

  • Alina Susana Elekcompartió su opiniónhace 5 años
    👍Me gustó

    Good book to read for kids

  • Aisling Clearycompartió su opiniónhace 8 años
    👍Me gustó
    💞Romántico

    I've always loved this book to hell and back, but I hadn't read it in years, it was a lovely throw back

  • haringinana08compartió su opiniónhace 7 meses
    👍Me gustó

Citas

  • b5124102509compartió una citahace 3 años
    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
  • Devika Sethcompartió una citahace 8 meses
    But I'll be more beautiful than the most beautiful," persisted poor little Elsie; "and I'll be big, too, and know everybody's secrets. And everybody'll be kind, then, and never run away and hide; and there won't be any post offices, or anything disagreeable."
    "What'll you be, Johnnie?" asked Clover, anxious to change the subject, for Elsie's voice was growing plaintive.
    But Johnnie had no clear ideas as to her future. She laughed a great deal, and squeezed Dorry's arm very tight, but that was all. Dorry was more explicit.
    "I mean to have turkey every day," he declared, "and batter-puddings; not boiled ones, you know, but little baked ones, with brown shiny tops, and a great deal of pudding sauce to eat on them. And I shall be so big then that nobody will say, 'Three helps is quite enough for a little boy.'"
    "Oh, Dorry, you pig!" cried Katy, while the others screamed with laughter. Dorry was much affronted.
    "I shall just go and tell Aunt Izzie what you called me," he said, getting up in a great pet.
    But Clover, who was a born peacemaker, caught hold of his arm, and her coaxings and entreaties consoled him so much that he finally said he would stay; especially as the others were quite grave now, and promised that they wouldn't laugh any more.
    "And now, Katy, it's your turn," said Cecy; "tell us what you're going to be when you grow up."
    "I'm not sure about what I'll be," replied Katy, from overhead; "beautiful, of course, and good if I can, only not so good as you, Cecy, because it would be nice to go and ride with the young gentlemen sometimes. And I'd like to have a large house and a splendiferous garden, and then you could all come and live with me, and we would play in the garden, and Dorry should have turkey five times a day if he liked. And we'd have a machine to darn the stockings, and another machine to put the bureau drawers in order, and we'd never sew or knit garters, or do anything we didn't want to. That's what I'd like to be. But now I'll tell you what I mean to do."
    "Isn't it the same thing?" asked Cecy.
    "Oh, no!" replied Katy, "quite different; for you see I mean to do something grand. I don't know what, yet; but when I'm grown up I shall find out." (Poor Katy always said "when I'm grown up," forgetting how very much she had grown already.) "Perhaps," she went on, "it will be rowing out in boats, and saving peoples' lives, like that girl in the book. Or perhaps I shall go and nurse in the hospital, like Miss Nightingale. Or else I'll head a crusade and ride on a white horse, with armor and a helmet on my head, and carry a sacred flag. Or if I don't do that, I'll paint pictures, or sing, or scalp—sculp,—what is it? you know—make figures in marble. Anyhow it shall be something. And when Aunt Izzie sees it, and reads about me in the newspapers she will say, 'The dear child! I always knew she would turn out an ornament to the family,' People very often say, afterward, that they 'always knew,'" concluded Katy sagaciously.
    "Oh, Katy! how
  • Siwaar Djebbicompartió una citahace 3 años
    "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.

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