You sha'n't stir till I have sewed it
on properly."
It wasn't easy to "stand still and not fidget," with Aunt Izzie
fussing away and lecturing, and now and then, in a moment of
forgetfulness, sticking her needle into one's chin. Katy bore it as
well as she could, only shifting perpetually from one foot to the
other, and now and then uttering a little snort, like an impatient
horse. The minute she was released she flew into the kitchen, seized
the algebra, and rushed like a whirlwind to the gate, where good
little Clover stood patiently waiting, though all ready herself, and
terribly afraid she should be late.
"We shall have to run," gasped Katy, quite out of breath. "Aunt Izzie
kept me. She has been so horrid!"
They did run as fast as they could, but time ran faster, and before they
were half-way to school the town clock struck nine, and all hope was
over. This vexed Katy very much; for, though often late, she was always
eager to be early.
"There," she said, stopping short, "I shall just tell Aunt Izzie that it
was her fault. It is _too_ bad." And she marched into school in a very
cross mood.
A day begun in this manner is pretty sure to end badly, as most of us
know.
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