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    Miss Katy-Did and Miss Cricket

    by Harriet Beecher Stowe
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    Miss Katy-did sat on the branch of a flowering azalea, in her best
    suit of fine green and silver, with wings of point-lace from Mother
    Nature's finest web.

    Miss Katy was in the very highest possible spirits, because her
    gallant cousin, Colonel Katy-did, had looked in to make her a morning
    visit. It was a fine morning, too, which goes for as much among the
    Katy-dids as among men and women. It was, in fact, a morning that
    Miss Katy thought must have been made on purpose for her to enjoy
    herself in. There had been a patter of rain the night before, which
    had kept the leaves awake talking to each other till nearly morning;
    but by dawn the small winds had blown brisk little puffs, and whisked
    the heavens clear and bright with their tiny wings, as you have seen
    Susan clear away the cobwebs in your mamma's parlour; and so now
    there were only left a thousand blinking, burning water-drops,
    hanging like convex mirrors at the end of each leaf, and Miss Katy
    admired herself in each one.

    "Certainly I am a pretty creature," she said to herself; and when the
    gallant colonel said something about being dazzled by her beauty, she
    only tossed her head and took it as quite a matter of course.

    "The fact is, my dear colonel," she said, "I am thinking of giving a
    party, and you must help me to make out the lists."

    "My dear, you make me the happiest of Katy-dids."

    "Now," said Miss Katy-did, drawing an azalea-leaf towards her, "let
    us see--whom shall we have? The Fireflies, of course; everybody
    wants them, they are so brilliant,--a little unsteady, to be sure,
    but quite in the higher circles."

    "Yes, we must have the Fireflies," echoed the colonel.

    "Well, then, and the Butterflies and the Moths. Now, there's a
    trouble. There's such an everlasting tribe of those Moths; and if
    you invite dull people they're always sure all to come, every one of
    them. Still, if you have the Butterflies, you can't leave out the

    "Old Mrs. Moth has been laid up lately with a gastric fever, and that
    may keep two or three of the Misses Moth at home," said the colonel.

    "Whatever could give the old lady such a turn?" said Miss Katy. "I
    thought she never was sick."

    "I suspect it's high living. I understand she and her family ate up
    a whole ermine cape last month, and it disagreed with them."

    "For my part, I can't conceive how the Moths can live as they do,"
    said Miss Katy, with a face of disgust. "Why, I could no more eat
    worsted and fur, as they do--"

    "That is quite evident from the fairy-like delicacy of your
    appearance," said the colonel. "One can see that nothing so gross or
    material has ever entered into your system."

    "I'm sure," said Miss Katy, "mamma says she don't know what does keep
    me alive; half a dewdrop and a little bit of the nicest part of a
    rose-leaf, I assure you, often last me for a day. But we are
    forgetting our list. Let's see--the Fireflies, Butterflies, Moths.
    The Bees must come, I suppose."

    "The Bees are a worthy family," said the colonel.

    "Worthy enough, but dreadfully humdrum," said Miss Katy. "They never
    talk about anything but honey and housekeeping; still, they are a
    class of people one cannot neglect."

    "Well, then, there are the Bumble-Bees."

    "Oh, I dote on them! General Bumble is one of the most dashing,
    brilliant fellows of the day."

    "I think he is shockingly corpulent," said Colonel Katy-did, not at
    all pleased to hear him praised; "don't you?"

    "I don't know but he IS a little stout," said Miss Katy; "but so
    distinguished and elegant in his manners--something quite martial and
    breezy about him."

    "Well, if you invite the Bumble-Bees, you must have the Hornets."

    "Those spiteful Hornets! I detest them!"

    "Nevertheless, dear Miss Katy, one does not like to offend the

    "No, one can't. There are those five Misses Hornet--dreadful old
    maids!--as full of spite as they can live. You may be sure they will
    every one come, and be looking about to make spiteful remarks. Put
    down the Hornets, though."

    "How about the Mosquitoes!" said the colonel.

    "Those horrid Mosquitoes--they are dreadfully plebeian! Can't one
    cut them?"

    "Well dear Miss Katy," said the colonel, "if you ask my candid
    opinion as a friend, I should say not. There's young Mosquito, who
    graduated last year, has gone into literature, and is connected with
    some of our leading papers, and they say he carries the sharpest pen
    of all the writers. It won't do to offend him."

    "And so I suppose we must have his old aunts, and all six of his
    sisters, and all his dreadfully common relations."

    "It is a pity," said the colonel; "but one must pay one's tax to

    Just at this moment the conference was interrupted by a visitor, Miss
    Keziah Cricket, who came in with her work-bag on her arm to ask a
    subscription for a poor family of Ants who had just had their house
    hoed up in clearing the garden-walks.

    "How stupid of them," said Katy, "not to know better than to put
    their house in the garden-walk; that's just like those Ants."

    "Well, they are in great trouble; all their stores destroyed, and
    their father killed--cut quite in two by a hoe."

    "How very shocking! I don't like to hear of such disagreeable
    things; it affects my nerves terribly. Well, I'm sure I haven't
    anything to give. Mamma said yesterday she was sure she didn't know
    how our bills were to be paid; and there's my green satin with point-
    lace yet to come home." And Miss Katy-did shrugged her shoulders and
    affected to be very busy with Colonel Katy-did, in just the way that
    young ladies sometimes do when they wish to signify to visitors that
    they had better leave.

    Little Miss Cricket perceived how the case stood, and so hopped
    briskly off, without giving herself even time to be offended. "Poor
    extravagant little thing!" said she to herself, "it was hardly worth
    while to ask her."

    "Pray, shall you invite the Crickets?" said Colonel Katy-did.

    "Who? I? Why, colonel, what a question! Invite the Crickets? Of
    what can you be thinking?"

    "And shall you not ask the Locusts, and the Grasshoppers?"

    "Certainly. The Locusts, of course,--a very old and distinguished
    family; and the Grasshoppers are pretty well, and ought to be asked.
    But we must draw a line somewhere,--and the Crickets! why, it's
    shocking even to think of!"

    "I thought they were nice, respectable people."

    "Oh, perfectly nice and respectable,--very good people, in fact, so
    far as that goes. But then you must see the difficulty."

    "My dear cousin, I am afraid you must explain."

    "Why, their COLOUR, to be sure. Don't you see?"

    "Oh!" said the colonel. "That's it, is it? Excuse me, but I have
    been living in France, where these distinctions are wholly unknown,
    and I have not yet got myself in the train of fashionable ideas

    "Well, then, let me teach you," said Miss Katy. "You know we
    republicans go for no distinctions except those created by Nature
    herself, and we found our rank upon COLOUR, because that is clearly a
    thing that none has any hand in but our Maker. You see?"

    "Yes; but who decides what colour shall be the reigning colour?"

    "I'm surprised to hear the question! The only true colour--the only
    proper one--is OUR colour, to be sure. A lovely pea-green is the
    precise shade on which to found aristocratic distinction. But then
    we are liberal;--we associate with the Moths, who are gray; with the
    Butterflies, who are blue-and-gold coloured; with the Grasshoppers,
    yellow and brown; and society would become dreadfully mixed if it
    were not fortunately ordered that the Crickets are black as jet. The
    fact is, that a class to be looked down upon is necessary to all
    elegant society; and if the Crickets were not black, we could not
    keep them down, because, as everybody knows, they are often a great
    deal cleverer than we are. They have a vast talent for music and
    dancing; they are very quick at learning, and would be getting to the
    very top of the ladder if we once allowed them to climb. But their
    being black is a convenience; because, as long as we are green and
    they black, we have a superiority that can never be taken from us.
    Don't you see now?"

    "Oh yes, I see exactly," said the colonel.

    "Now that Keziah Cricket, who just came in here, is quite a musician,
    and her old father plays the violin beautifully;--by the way, we
    might engage him for our orchestra."

    And so Miss Katy's ball came off, and the performers kept it up from
    sundown till daybreak, so that it seemed as if every leaf in the
    forest were alive. The Katy-dids and the Mosquitoes, and the
    Locusts, and a full orchestra of Crickets made the air perfectly
    vibrate, insomuch that old Parson Too-Whit, who was preaching a
    Thursday evening lecture to a very small audience, announced to his
    hearers that he should certainly write a discourse against dancing
    for the next weekly occasion.

    The good doctor was even with his word in the matter, and gave out
    some very sonorous discourses, without in the least stopping the
    round of gaieties kept up by these dissipated Katy-dids, which ran
    on, night after night, till the celebrated Jack Frost epidemic, which
    occurred somewhere about the first of September.

    Poor Miss Katy, with her flimsy green satin and point-lace, was one
    of the first victims, and fell from the bough in company with a sad
    shower of last year's leaves. The worthy Cricket family, however,
    avoided Jack Frost by emigrating in time to the chimney-corner of a
    nice little cottage that had been built in the wood that summer.

    There good old Mr. and Mrs. Cricket, with sprightly Miss Keziah and
    her brothers and sisters, found a warm and welcome home; and when the
    storm howled without, and lashed the poor naked trees, the Crickets
    on the warm hearth would chirp out cheery welcome to papa as he came
    in from the snowy path, or mamma as she sat at her work-basket.

    "Cheep, cheep, cheep!" little Freddy would say. "Mamma, who is it
    says 'cheep'?"

    "Dear Freddy, it's our own dear little cricket, who loves us and
    comes to sing to us when the snow is on the ground."

    So when poor Miss Katy-did's satin and lace were all swept away, the
    warm home-talents of the Crickets made for them a welcome refuge.
    If you're writing a Miss Katy-Did and Miss Cricket essay and need some advice, post your Harriet Beecher Stowe essay question on our Facebook page where fellow bookworms are always glad to help!

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