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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19247-8.txt b/19247-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c2e2c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/19247-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3884 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dotty Dimple's Flyaway, by Sophie May + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dotty Dimple's Flyaway + +Author: Sophie May + +Release Date: September 11, 2006 [EBook #19247] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY *** + + + + +Produced by Sigal Alon, La Monte H.P. Yarroll, Sankar +Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: "WHAT FOR YOU LOOK THAT WAY TO ME?"] + + + + DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES. + + + + DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY. + + + + + By SOPHIE MAY, + + AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES." + + + Illustrated. + + + + BOSTON: + LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. + NEW YORK: + LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. + 1871. + + * * * * * + +TO THE + +LITTLE LINDSAYS. + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + +I. BEGINNING TO REMEMBER. + +II. RUNNING AWAY TO CHURCH. + +III. RUNNING AWAY TO HEAVEN. + +IV. A RAILROAD SAVAGE. + +V. EAST AGAIN. + +VI. THE RAG-BAG. + +VII. THE WICKED GIRL. + +VIII. "WHEELBARROWING." + +IX. TIN-TYPES. + +X. WAKING. + +XI. AUNT POLLY'S STORY. + +XII. FULL NIPPERKIN. + + * * * * * + + + + +DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY. + +CHAPTER I. + +BEGINNING TO REMEMBER. + + +Katie Clifford was a very bright child. She almost knew enough to keep +out of fire and water, but not quite. She looked like other little +girls, only so wise,--O, so very wise!--that you couldn't tell her any +news about the earth, or the sun, moon, and stars, for she knew all +about it "byfore." + +Her hair was soft and flying like corn-silk, and when the wind took it +you would think it meant to blow it off like a dandelion top. She was +so light and breezy, and so little for her age, that her father said +"they must put a cent in her pocket to keep her from flying away;" so, +after that, the family began to call her _Flyaway_. She thought it was +her name, and that when people said "Katie," it was a gentle way they +had of scolding. + +Everybody petted her. Her brother Horace put his heart right under her +feet, and she danced over it. Her "uncle Eddard" said "she drove round +the world in a little chariot, and all her friends were harnessed to +it, only they didn't know it." + +Her shoulders were very little, but they bore a crushing weight of +care. From the time she began to talk, she took upon herself the +burden of the whole family. When Mrs. Clifford had a headache, Flyaway +was so full of pity that nothing could keep her from climbing upon +the sufferer, stroking her face, and saying, "O, my _dee_ mamma," or +perhaps breaking the camphor bottle over her nose. + +She sat at table in a high chair beside her father, and might have +learned good manners if it had not been for the care she felt of +Horace. She could scarcely attend to her own little knife and fork, +because she was so busy watching her brother. She wished to see for +herself that he was sitting straight, and not leaning his elbows on +the table. If he made any mistake she cried, "Hollis!" in a tone as +sweet as a wind-harp, though she meant it to be terribly severe, +adding to the effect by shaking the corn-silk on her head in high +displeasure. If she could correct him she thought she had done as much +good in the family as if she had behaved well herself. He received all +rebukes very meekly, with a "Thank you, little Topknot. What would be +done here without you to preserve order?" + +Flyaway could remember as far back as the beginning of the +world,--that is to say, she could remember when _her_ world began. + +It is strange to think of, but the first thing she really knew for a +certainty, she was standing in a yellow chair, in her grandmother +Parlin's kitchen! It was as if she had always been asleep till that +minute. People did say she had once been a baby, but she could not +recollect that, "it was so MANY years ago." + +Her mind, you see, had always been as soft as a bag of feathers; and +nothing that she did, or that any one else did, made much impression. +But now something remarkable was taking place, and she would never +forget it. + +It was this: she was grinding coffee. How prettily it pattered down on +the floor! What did it look like? O, like snuff, that people sneezed +with. This was housework. Next thing they would ask her to wash dishes +and set the table. She would grow larger and larger, and Gracie would +grow littler and littler; and O, how nice it would be when she could +do all the work, and Gracie had to sit in mamma's lap and be rocked! + +"Flywer'll do some help," said she. "Flywer'll take 'are of g'amma's +things." + +While she stood musing thus, with a dreamy smile, and turning the +handle of the mill as fast as it would go round, somebody sprang at +her very unexpectedly. It was Ruth, the kitchen-girl. She seized Katie +by the shoulders, carried her through the air, and set her on her feet +in the sink. + +"There, little Mischief," said she, "you'll stay there one while! +We'll see if we can't put a stop to this coffee-grinding! Why, you're +enough to wear out the patience of Job!" + +Katie had often heard about Job; she supposed it was something +dreadful, like a lion, or a whale. She looked up at Ruth, and saw her +black eyes flashing and the rosy color trembling in her cheeks. Cruel +Ruth! She did not know Katie was her best friend, working and helping +get dinner as fast as she could. "Ruthie," sobbed she, "you didn't ask +please." + +"Well, well, child, I'm in a hurry; and when you set things to flying, +you're enough to wear out the patience of Job." + +Job again. + +"You've said so two times, Ruthie! Now I don't like you tall, tenny +rate." + +This was as harsh language as Katie dared use; but she frowned +fearfully, and a tuft of hair, rising from her head like a waterspout, +made her look so fierce that Ruth seemed to be frightened, and ran +away with her apron up to her face. + +The sink was so high that Katie could not get out of it +alone,--"course _indeed_ she couldn't." + +"It most makes me 'fraid," said she to herself: "Ruthie's a big woman, +I's a little woman. When I's the biggest I'll put Ruthie in _my_ +sink." + +Very much comforted by this resolve, she dried her eyes and began to +look about her for more housework. "Let's me see; I'll pump a bushel +o' water." + +There was a pail in the sink; so, what should she do but jump into +that, and then jerk the pump-handle up and down, till a fine stream +poured out and sprinkled her all over! + +"Sing a song, O sink-spout," sang she, catching her breath: but +presently she began to feel cold. + +"O, how it makes me _shivvle_!" said she. + +"Katie!" called out a voice. + +"Here me are!" gurgled the little one, her mouth under the pump-nose. + +When Horace came in she was standing in water up to the tops of her +long white stockings. He took her out, wrung her a little, and set her +on a shelf in the pantry to dry. + +"Oho!" said she, shaking her wet plumage, like a duckling; "what for +you look that way to me? I didn't do nuffin,--not the leastest nuffin! +The water kep' a comin' and a comin'." + +"Yes, you little naughty girl, and you kept pumping and pumping." + +"I'm isn't little naughty goorl," thought Katie, indignantly; "but +Ruthie's naughty goorl, and Hollis _velly_ naughty goorl." + +"O, here you are, you little Hop-o'-my-thumb," said Mrs. Clifford, +coming into the pantry; "a baby with a cough in her throat and pills +in her pocket musn't get wet." + +Flyaway thrust her hand into her wet pocket to make sure the wee vial +of white dots was still there. + +"I fished her out of a pail of water," said Horace; "to-morrow I shall +find her in a bird's nest." + +Mrs. Clifford sent for some fresh stockings and shoes. Her +baby-daughter was so often falling into mischief that she thought very +little about it. She did not know this was a remarkable occasion, and +the baby had to-day begun to remember. She did not know that if +Flyaway should live to be an old lady, she would sometimes say to her +grandchildren,-- + +"The very first thing I have any recollection of, dears, is grinding +coffee in your great-grandmamma's kitchen at Willowbrook. The girl, +Ruth Dillon, took me up by the shoulders, carried me through the air, +and set me in the sink, and then I pumped water over myself." + +This is about the way little Flyaway would be likely to talk, sixty +years from now, adding, as she polished her spectacles,-- + +"And after that, children, things went into a mist, and I don't +remember anything else that happened for some time." + +Why was it that things "went into a mist"? Why didn't she keep on +remembering every day? I don't know. + +But the next thing that really did happen to Miss Thistleblow Flyaway, +though she went right off and forgot it, was this: She persuaded her +mother to write a letter for her to "Dotty Dimpwill." As it was her +first letter, I will copy it. + + "MY DEAR DOTTY DIMPWILL first, then MY PRUDY: + + "I'm going to say that I dink milk, and that girl lost my + pills. + + "I see a hop-toad. He hopped. Jennie took _her_ up in _his_ + dress. + + "And 'bout we put hop-toad in wash-dish. He put his foots + out, _stwetched_, honest! He was a slippy fellow. First + thing we knowed it, he hopped on to her dress. Isn't that + funny? + + "Now 'bout the chickens; they are trottin' round on the + grass: they didn't be dead. _We_ haven't got any only but + dead ones; but Mis' Gray has. + + "I like Dr. Gray ever so much! + + "Mis' Gray gave me the kitty to play with. I bundled it all + up in my dress, 'cause I didn't want the cat to get it. When + I went home I gave it to the cat. [You got that _wroten_?] + + "There wasn't any _dead_ little kittens. She gave me a + cookie, and I eated it, and I told her to give me another to + bring home, 'cause I liked her cookies; they was curly + cookies. [Got it wroted, mamma?] + + "Now 'bout I pumped full a pail full o' water. + + "[She _knows_ we've got a house?] + + "Now say good by, and I kiss her a pretty little kiss. O, + no; I want her to come and see me,--her and Prudy,--_two_ + of 'em! I's here yet. ['Haps she knows it!] + + "That's all--I feel sleepy. + + (Signed) "From + + "DOTTY DIMPWILL TO FLYWER." + +This letter "went into a mist," and so did the next performance, which +you will read in the following chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +RUNNING AWAY TO CHURCH. + + +The little Parlins came the next week. One Sunday morning Dotty Dimple +stood before the glass, putting on her hat for church. Katie came and +peeped in with her, opening her small mouth and drawing her lips over +her teeth, as her grandfather did when he shaved. + +"See, Flyaway, you haven't any dimples at all!" said Dotty, primping a +little. "Your hair isn't smooth and curly like mine; it sticks up all +over your head, like a little fan." + +"O, my shole!" sighed Flyaway, scowling at herself. She did not know +how lovely she was, nor how + + "The light of the heaven she came from + Still lingered and gleamed in her hair." + +"I wisht 'twouldn't get out," said she. + +"What do you mean by _out_?" + +"O, unwetted, and un-comb-bid, and un-parted." + +"That's because you fly about like such a little witch." + +"I doesn't do the leastest nuffin, Dotty Dimpwill! Folks ought to let +me to go to churches." + +"I _should_ laugh, Fly Clifford, to see _you_ going to churches! All +the ministers would come down out of the pulpits and ask what little +mischief that was, and make aunt 'Ria carry you home!" + +"No, he wouldn't, too! I'd sit stiller'n two, free, five hundred +mouses," pleaded Flyaway, climbing up the back of a chair to show how +quiet she could be. + +"O, it's no use to talk about it, darling. Give me one kiss, and I'll +go get my sun-shade." + +"Can't, Dotty Dimpwill! My mamma's kiss I'll keep; it's ahind my mouf; +she's gone to 'Dusty. + +"Well, 'keep it ahind your mouf,' then; and here's another to put with +it. What _do_ you s'pose makes me love to kiss you so?" + +"O, 'cause I so sweet," replied Flyaway, promptly; but she was not +thinking of her own sweetness, just then; she was wondering if she +could manage to run away to church. + +"I'se a-goin' there myse'f! Sit still's a--a--" She looked around for +a comparison, and saw a grasshopper on the window-sill: "still's a +_gas-papa_. Man won't say nuffin' to me, see 'f he does!" + +Strange such an innocent-looking child could be so sly! She ran down +the path with Horace, kissing her little hand to everybody for good +by, all the while thinking how she could steal off to church without +being seen. + +"You may go up stairs and lie down with me on my bed," said grandma, +who was not very well. So Katie climbed upon the bed. + +"My dee gamma, I so solly you's sick!" said she, stroking Mrs. +Parlin's face, and picking open her eyelids. But after patting and +"pooring" the dear lady for some time, she thought she had made her +"all well," and then was anxious to get away. Mrs. Parlin wished to +keep her up stairs as long as possible, because Ruth had a toothache. + +"Shan't I tell you a story, dear?" said she. + +"Yes, um; tell 'bout a long baby--no, a long story 'bout a short +baby." + +"Well, once there was a king, and he had a daughter--" + +"O, no, gamma, not that! Tell me 'bout baby that _didn't_ be on the +bul-yushes; I don't want to hear 'bout _Mosey_!" + +Grandma smiled, and wondered if people, in the good old Bible days, +were in the habit of using pet names, and if Pharaoh's daughter ever +called the Hebrew boy "Mosey." She was about to begin another story, +when Flyaway said, "Guess I'll go out, now," and slid off the bed. +There was an orange on the table. She took it, held it behind her, and +walked quickly to the door. Looking back, she saw that her +grandmother was watching her. + +"What you looking at, gamma? 'Cause I'm are goin' to bring the ollinge +right back." + +And so she did, but not because it was wrong to keep it. Flyaway had +no conscience, or, if she had any, it was very small, folded up out of +sight, like a leaf-bud on a tree in the spring. + +"Ask Ruthie to wash your face and hands, and then come right back to +grandma and hear the story." + +"Yes um." + +Down stairs she pattered. The moment Ruth had kissed her, and turned +away to make a poultice, she crept into the nursery, and put on +Horace's straw hat. Then she took from a corner an old cane of her +grandfather's, and from the paper-rack a daily newspaper, and started +out in great glee. The "Journal" she hugged to her heart, and her +short dress she held up to her waist, "'Cause I s'pect I mus' keep it +out o' the mud," said she, as anxiously as any lady with a train. + +She had no trouble in finding the church, for the road was straight, +but the cane kept tripping her up. + +"Naughty fing! Wisht I hadn't took you, to-day, you act so bad!" said +she, picking herself up for the fifth time, and slinging the "naughty +fing" across her shoulder like a gun. When she came to the +meeting-house there was not a soul to be seen. "Guess they's eatin' +dinner in here," decided Flyaway, after looking about for a few +seconds. "Guess I'll go up chamer, see where the folks is." + +[Illustration: RUNNING AWAY TO CHURCH.] + +Up stairs she clattered, hitting the balusters with her cane. Good Mr. +Lee was preaching from the text, "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it +holy," and people could not imagine who was naughty enough to make +such a noise outside--thump, thump, thump. + +"Who's that a-talkin'?" thought Flyaway, startled by Mr. Lee's voice. +"O, ho! that's the _prayer-man_ a-talkin'. He makes me kind o' +'fraid!" + +But just at that minute she had reached the top of the stairs, and was +standing in the doorway. + +"O, my shole! so _many_ folks!" + +She trembled, and was about to run away with her newspaper and cane; +but her eyes, in roving wildly about, fell upon grandpa Parlin and all +the rest of them, in a pew very near the pulpit. Then she thought it +must be all right, and, taking courage, she marched slowly up the +aisle, swinging the cane right and left. + +Everybody looked up in surprise as the droll little figure crept by. +Grandpa frowned through his spectacles, and aunt Louise shook her +head; but Horace hid his face in a hymn-book and Dotty Dimple actually +smiled. + +"They didn't know _I_ was a-comin'," thought Flyaway, "but I camed!" + +And with that she fluttered into the pew. + +"Naughty, naughty girl," said aunt Louise, in an awful whisper. + +She longed to take up the morsel of naughtiness, called Katie, in her +thumb and finger, shake it, and carry it out. But there was a twinkle +in the little one's eye that might mean mischief; she did not dare +touch her. + +"O, what a child!" said aunt Louise, taking off the big hat and +setting Flyaway down on the seat as hard as she could. + +Flyaway looked up, through her veil of flossy hair, at her pretty +auntie with the roses round her face. + +"Nobody didn't take 'are o' me to my house," said she, in a loud +whisper, "and _that's_ what is it!" + +"Hush!" said aunt Louise, giving Flyaway another shake, which +frightened her so that she dropped her head on her brother's shoulder, +and sat perfectly still for half a minute. + +Aunt Louise was sadly mortified, and so were Susy and Prudy. They +dared not look up, for they thought everybody was gazing straight at +the Parlin pew, and laughing at their crazy little relative. Horace +and Dotty Dimple did not care in the least; they thought it very +funny. + +"They shan't scold at my cunning little Topknot," whispered Horace, +consolingly. "Sit still, darling, and when we get home I'll give you a +cent." + +"Yes um, I will," replied poor brow-beaten Flyaway, and held up her +head again with the best of them. Perhaps she had been naughty; +perhaps folks were going to snip her fingers; but "Hollis" was on her +side now and forever. She began to feel quite contented. She had got +inside the church at last, and was very well pleased with it. It was +even queerer than she had expected. + +"What was that high-up thing the prayer-man was a-standin' on?" + +Flyaway merely asked this of her own wise little brain. She concluded +it must be "a chimley." + +"Great red curtains ahind him," added she, still conversing with her +own little brain. "Lots o' great big bubbles on the walls all round. +Big's a tea-kiddle! Lamps, I s'pose. There's that table. Where's the +cups and saucers for the supper? And the tea-pot? + +"All the bodies everywhere had their bonnets on; why for? Didn't say a +word, and the prayer-man kep' a-talkin' all the time; why for? Flywer +didn't talk; no indeed. Folks mus'n't. If folks did, then the man +would come down out the chimley and tell the other bodies to carry 'em +home. 'Cause it's the holy Sabber-day,--and _that's_ what is it." + +Flyaway's airy brain went dancing round and round. She slid away from +Horace's shoulder, spread her little length upon the seat, closed her +wondering, tired eyes, and sailed off to Noddle's Island. A fly, +buzzing in from out doors, had long been trying to settle on Flyaway's +restless nose. He never did settle: Horace kept guard with a palm-leaf +fan, and "all the other bodies" in the pew sat as still as if they had +been nailed down; so anxious were they to keep the little sleeper +safely harbored at Noddle's Island. + +"Such a relief!" thought aunt Louise, venturing to look up once more. + +Flyaway did not waken till the last prayer, when Horace held her fast, +lest she should make a sudden rush upon a speckled dog, which came +trotting up the aisle. + +On the steps they met Ruth, with wild eyes and face tied up in a +scarf, hunting for Flyaway. Mrs. Parlin, she said, was going up the +hill, so frightened that it would make her "down sick." + +When grandma got home, all out of breath, she found Flyaway looking +very downcast. Her heart was heavy under so many scoldings. "O, +Katie," said grandma, "how could you run away?" + +"I didn't yun away," replied Flyaway, thrusting her finger into her +mouth; "I _walked_ away!" + +"There, if that isn't a cunning baby, where'll you find one?" +whispered brother Horace to Prudy. "Grandmother can't punish her after +such a 'cute speech." + +But grandmother could, and did. She took her by the little soft hand, +led her to the china closet, and locked her in. + +"Half an hour you must stay there," said she, "and think what a +naughty girl you've been!" + +"Yes um," said Flyaway, meekly, and wiped off a tear with the hem of +her frock. + +But the moment she was left alone, her quick, observing eyes saw +something which gave her a thrill of delight. It was a jar of quince +jelly, which had been left by accident on the lower shelf. + +"'Cause I spect I likes um," said she, serenely, after eating all she +possibly could. + +At the end of half an hour grandma came and turned the key. + +"Have you been thinking, dear, and are you sorry and ready to come +out?" + +"Yes, um," replied the little culprit, with her mouth full, and +feeling very brave as long as the door was shut between her and her +jailer. "Yes, um, I've thought it all up,--defful solly. _But_ you +won't never shut me up no more, gamma Parlin!" + +"Katie Clifford!" said grandma, sternly; and then she opened the door, +and faced Flyaway. + +"'Cause--'cause--_'cause_," cried the little one, in great alarm; "you +won't shut me up, 'cause I won't never walk away no more, gamma +Parlin!" + +Mrs. Parlin tried hard not to smile; but the mixture on Flyaway's +little face of naughtiness, jelly, and fright, was very funny to see. + +The child noticed that her grandmother's brows knit as if in +displeasure, and then she remembered the jelly. + +"I hasn't been a-touchin' your 'serves, gamma," said she. + +Mrs. Parlin really did not know what to do,--Flyaway's conscience was +_so_ little and folded away in so many thicknesses, like a tiny pearl +in a whole box of cotton wool. How could anybody get at it? + +"Gamma, I hasn't been a-touchin' your 'serves," repeated the little +thief. + +"Ah, don't tell me that," said grandma, sadly; "I see it in your eye!" + +"What, gamma, the _'serves_ in my eye?" said Flyaway, putting up her +finger to find out for herself. "'Cause I put 'em in my _mouf_, I +did." + +Mrs. Parlin washed the little pilferer's face and hands, took her in +her lap, and tried to feel her way through the cotton wool to the tiny +conscience. + +The child looked up and listened to all the good words, and when they +had been spoken over and over, this was what she said:-- + +"O, gamma, you's got such pitty little wrinkles!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +RUNNING AWAY TO HEAVEN. + + +About ten o'clock one morning, Flyaway was sitting in the little green +chamber with Dotty Dimple and Jennie Vance, bathing her doll's feet in +a glass of water. Dinah had a dreadful headache, and her forehead was +bandaged with a red ribbon. + +"_Does_ you feel any better?" asked Flyaway, tenderly, from time to +time; but Dinah had such a habit of never answering, that it was of no +use to ask her any questions. + +Dotty Dimple and Jennie were talking very earnestly. + +"I do wish I did know where Charlie Gray is!" said Dotty, looking +through the open window at a bird flying far aloft into the blue sky. + +"You do know," answered Jennie, quickly; "he's in heaven." + +"Yes, of course; but so high up--O, so high up," sighed Dotty, "it +makes you dizzy to think." + +"Can um see we?" struck in little Flyaway, holding to Dinah's flat +nose a bottle of reviving soap suds. + +"Prudy says it's beautiful to be dead," added Dotty, without heeding +the question; "beautiful to be dead." + +"Shtop!" cried Flyaway; "I's a-talkin'. Does um see _we_?" + +"O, I don' know, Fly Clifford; you'll have to ask the minister." + +Flyaway squeezed the water from Dinah's ragged feet, and dropped her +under the table, headache and all. Then she tipped over the goblet, +and flew to the window. + +"The Charlie boy likes canny seeds; I'll send him some," said she, +pinning a paper of sugared spices to the window curtain, and drawing +it up by means of the tassel. "O, dear, um don't go high enough. +Charlie won't get 'em." + +"Why, what is that baby trying to do?" said Dotty Dimple. + +"Charlie's defful high up," murmured Flyaway, heaving a little sigh; +"can't get the canny seeds." + +"O, what a Fly! How big do you s'pose her mind is, Jennie Vance?" + +"Big as a thimble, perhaps," replied Jennie, doubtfully. + +"Why, I shouldn't think, now, 'twas any larger than the head of a +pin," said Dotty, with decision; "s'poses heaven is top o' this room! +Why, Jennie Vance, I _persume_ it's ever so much further off 'n Mount +Blue--don't you?" + +"O, yes, indeed! What queer ideas such children do have! Flyaway +doesn't understand but very little we say, Dotty Dimple; not but very +little." + +Flyaway turned round with one of her wise looks. She thought she did +understand; at any rate she was catching every word, and stowing it +away in her little bit of a brain for safe keeping. Heaven was on +Mount Blue. She had learned so much. + +"But I knowed it by-fore," said she to herself, with a proud toss of +the silky plume on the crown of her head. + +"Shall we take her with us?" asked Jennie Vance. + +Flyaway listened eagerly; she thought they were still talking of +heaven, when in truth Jennie only meant a concert which was to be +given that afternoon at the vestry. + +"Take _that_ little snip of a child!" replied Dotty; "O, no; she isn't +big enough; 'twouldn't be any use to pay money for _her!_" + +With which very cutting remark Dotty swept out of the room, in her +queenly way, followed by Jennie. Flyaway threw herself across a +pillow, and moaned,-- + +"O, dee, dee!" + +Her little heart was ready to bleed; and this wasn't the first time, +either. Those great big girls were always running away from her, and +calling her "goosies" and "snips;" and now they meant to climb to +heaven, where Charlie was, and leave her behind. + +"But I won't stay down here in this place; I'll go to heaven too, now, +_cerdily_!" She sprang from the pillow and stood on one foot, like a +strong-minded little robin that will not be trifled with by a worm. +"I'll go too, now, cerdily." + +Having made up her mind, she hurried as fast as she could, and tucked +a stick of candy in her pocket, also the bottle of soap suds, and two +thirds of a "curly cookie" shaped like a leaf. "Charlie would be so +glad to see Fly-wer!" She purred like a contented kitten as she +thought about it. "'Haps they've got a _bossy-cat_ up there, and a +piggy, and a swing. O, my shole!" + +There was no time to be lost. Flyaway must overtake the girls, and, if +possible, get to heaven before they did. She flew about like a +distracted butterfly. + +"I must have some skipt; her said me's too little to pay for money;" +and she curled her pretty red lip; "but I'm isn't much little; man'll +_want_ some skipt." + +For she fancied somebody standing at the door of heaven holding out +his hand like the ticket-man at the depot. She found her mother's +purse in the writing-desk, and scattered its contents into the +wash-bowl, then picked out the wettest "skipt," a five-dollar bill, +and tucked it into her bosom. This would make it all right at the door +of heaven. + +"Now my spetty-curls," she added, hunting in the "uppest drawer" till +she found the eyeless spectacles used for playing "old lady." With +these on, Flyaway thought she could see the way a great deal better. +Horace's boots would help her up hill; so she jumped into those, and +clattered down the back stairs with Dinah under her arm. + +There was nobody in the kitchen, for Ruthie was down cellar sweeping. +Flyaway caught her shaker off the "short nail," and stole out without +being seen. Sitting in the sun on the piazza was the "blue" kittie. +"Finkin' 'bout a mouse, I spect," said little Flyaway, seizing her and +blowing open her eyes like a couple of rosebuds. + +"Does you know where I's a-goin'? Up to heaven. We don't let tinty +folks, like cats, go to heaven." + +Pussy winked sorrowfully at this, and baby's tender heart was touched. + +"Yes, we does," said she; "but you musn't scwatch the Charlie boy;" +and she tucked the "tinty folks" under her left arm. Then all was +ready, and the little pilgrim started for heaven. + +"Um's on the toppest hill," said she, looking at the far-off +mountains, reaching up against the blue sky. One mountain was much +higher than the others, and on that she fixed her eye. It was Mount +Blue, and was really twenty miles away. If Flyaway should ever reach +that cloud-capped peak, it was not her wee, wee feet which would carry +her there. But the baby had no idea of distances. She went out of the +yard as fast as the big boots would allow. She felt as brave as a +little fly trying to walk the whole length of the Chinese Wall. + +Where were Dotty Dimple and Jennie Vance? O, they were half way to +heaven by this time; she must "hurry quick." + +The fact was, they were "up in the Pines," picking strawberries. +Nobody saw Flyaway but a caterpillar. + +"O, my shole! there's a _catty-pillow_--what he want, you fink?" + +Kitty winked and Dinah sulked, but there was no reply. + +The next thing they met was a grasshopper. "O, dee, a _gas-papa_! +Where you s'pose um goin'?" + +Kitty winked again and Dinah sulked. + +Flyaway answered her own question. "Diny, dat worm gone see his +mamma." + +Dinah did not care anything about the family feelings of the "worms;" +so she kept her red silk mouth shut; but she grew very heavy--so +heavy, indeed, that once her little mother dropped her in the sand, +but picking her up, shook her and trudged on. Presently she dropped +something else, and this time it was the kitty. Flyaway turned about +in dismay. + +"Shtop," cried she, scowling through her "spetty-curls," as she saw +three white paws and one blue one go tripping over the road. "Shtop!" +But the paws kept on. + +"O, Diny," said Flyaway, as pussy's tail disappeared round a +corner,--"O, Diny, her don't want to go to heaven!" + +Then Flyaway sat down in the sand, and pulled off one of the big +boots. + +"Um won't walk," said she; but, before she had time to pull off the +second one, a dog came along and frightened her so she tried to run, +though she only hopped on one foot, and dragged the other. She did not +know what the matter was till she fell down and the boot came off of +itself, after which she could walk very well. What cared she that both +"Hollis's" new boots were left in the road, ready to be crushed by +wagon wheels? + +She kept on and kept on; but where was that blue hill going to? It +moved faster than she did. + +"Makes me povokin'," said she, giving Dinah a shake. "Um runs away and +away, and all off!" + +Sometimes she remembered she was going to heaven, and sometimes she +forgot it. She was on the way to the "Pines," and many little flowers +grew by the road-side. She began to pick a few, but the thorns on the +raspberry bushes tore her tender hands, and one of the naughty +branches caught Dinah by the frizzly hair, and carried her under. What +did Flyaway spy behind the bushes? Dotty Dimple and Jennie Vance. They +were eating wintergreen leaves; they did not see her. Flyaway kept as +still as if she were sitting for a photograph, picked up Dinah, gave +her a hug, and crept on. + +She went so quietly that nobody heard her. When she was out of sight +she purred for joy. She had got ahead of the girls on the way to +heaven! She took the stick of candy out of her pocket and nibbled it +to celebrate the occasion. "A little hump-backed bumblebee" saw her do +it. He wanted some too, and followed Flyaway as if she had been a +moving honeysuckle. For half a mile or more she "gaed" and she "gaed," +all the while nibbling the candy; but now she was growing very tired, +and did it to comfort herself. Suddenly she remembered it was +Charlie's candy. She held it up to her tearful eyes. + +"O dee," said she, "it was big, but it keeps a-gettin' little!" + +The hungry bumblebee, who was just behind her, thought this was his +last chance: so he pounced down upon Charlie's candy; and being +cross, and not knowing Flyaway from any other little girl, he stung +her on the thumb. Then how she cried, "'Orny 'ting me! 'Orny 'ting +me!" for she had been treated just so before by a hornet. "O my dee +mamma! My dee mamma!" + +But her "dee" mamma could not hear her; she was in the city of +Augusta; and as for the rest of the family, they supposed Flyaway was +playing "catch" with Dotty Dimple in the barn. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"A RAILROAD SAVAGE." + + +It now occurred to little Flyaway, with a sudden pang, that she must +have come to the end of the world. "Yes, cerdily!" The world was full +of folks and houses,--this place was nothing but trees. The world had +horses and wagons in it,--this place hadn't. "O dee!" + +Where was the hill gone, on the top of which stood that big house they +called heaven,--the house where Charlie lived and played in the +garden? Why, that hill had just walked off, and the house too! She +parted the bushes and peeped through. Nothing to be seen but trees. +Flyaway began to cry from sheer fright, as well as pain. "'Tis a +defful day! I can't _stay_ in this day!" + +More trouble had come to her than she knew how to bear; but worst of +all was the cruel stab of the bumblebee. She pitied her aching "fum," +and kissed it herself to make it feel better; but all in vain; "the +pain kept on and on;" the "fum" grew big as fast as the candy had +grown little. + +"Somebody don't take 'are o' me," wailed she; "somebody gone off, lef' +me alone!" + +She was dreadfully hungry. "When _was_ it be dinner time?" She would +not have been in the least surprised, but very much pleased, if a bird +had flown down with a plate of roast lamb in his bill, and set it on +the ground before her. Simple little Flyaway! Or if her far-away +mother had sprung out from behind a tree with a bed in her arms, the +tired baby would have jumped into the bed and asked no questions. + +But nothing of the sort came to pass. Here she was, without any heaven +or any mother; and the great yellow sun was creeping fast down the +sky. + +"I'm tired out and sleepy out," wailed the young traveller, the tears +rolling over the rims of her "spetty-curls,"--"all sleepy out; and I +can't get rested 'thout--my--muvver!" + +She sat down and hid her head in her black dolly's bosom. + +"Diny, you got some ears? We wasn't here by-fore!" + +This was all the way she had of saying she was lost. + +The sky suddenly grew dark; a shower was coming up. + +"Where has the bwight sun gone?" said Flyaway, with a shudder. + +She was answered by a peal of thunder,--wagon-wheels, she supposed. + +"Here I is!" shouted she. + +Some one had come for her. Perhaps it was Charlie, and they meant to +give her a ride up to heaven. A flash of light, and then another +crash. Flyaway understood it then. It was logs. People were rolling +logs up in the sky, on the blue floor. She had seen logs in a mill. +Such a noise! + +Then she dropped fast asleep, and somebody came right down out of the +clouds and gave her a peach turnover as big as a dinner basket, or so +she thought. Just as she was about to cut it, she was awakened by the +rain dripping into her eyes. She started up, exclaiming, "If you pees +um, I want some cheese um." + +But the turnover had gone! Then the feeling of desolation swept over +her again. She had come to the end of the world, and dinner, and +mother, and heaven had all gone off and left her. + +"O, Diny," sobbed she, turning to her unfeeling dolly for sympathy. +"I's free years old, and you's one years old. Don't you want to go to +heaven, Diny, and sit in God's lap? What a great big lap he must +have!" + +A gust of wind lifted the frizzles on Dinah's forehead, but that was +all. + +"O dee, dee, dee! you don't hear nuffin 't all, Diny," said +Flyaway--the only sensible remark she had made that day. It was of no +use talking to Dinah; so she began to talk to herself. + +"What you matter, Flywer Clifford?" said she, scowling to keep her +courage up. "What you matter?" + +And after she had said that, she cried harder than ever, and crept +under the bushes, moaning like a wounded lamb. + +"I'm defful wetter, but I'm colder'n I's wetter; makes me shivvle!" + +After a while the clouds had poured out all the rain there was in +them, and left the sky as clear as it was before; but by that time the +sun had gone to bed, and the little birds too, sending out their good +nights from tree to tree. Then the new moon came, and peeped over the +shoulder of a hill at Flyaway. She sprang out from the bushes like a +rabbit. + +"O, my shole!" cried she, clapping her hands, "the sun's camed again! +A little bit o' sun. I sawed it!" + +[Illustration: LOST IN THE WOODS.] + +Inspired with new courage, she and Dinah concluded to start for +home; that is to say, they turned round three or four times, and then +struck off into the woods. + + * * * * * + +Now you may be sure all this could not happen without causing great +alarm at grandpa Parlin's. When the dinner bell rang, everybody asked, +twice over, "Why, where is little Fly?" and Dotty Dimple answered, as +innocently as if it were none of her affairs,-- + +"Why, isn't she in the house? We s'posed she was. Jennie Vance and I +have just been out in the garden, under your little _crying willow_, +making a wreath. Thought she was in the barn, or somewhere." + +"But you haven't been in the garden all the while?" + +"No'm; once we went up in the Pines,--grandma, you said we might,--but +we haven't seen Fly,--why, we haven't seen her for the longest while!" + +Grace had dropped her knife and fork and was looking pale. + +"It was Susy and I that had the care of her, grandma; when you went +out to see the sick lady, you charged us, and we forgot all about it." + +"Pretty works, I should think!" cried Horace, springing out of his +chair; "I wouldn't sell that baby for her weight in gold; but I reckon +_you_ would, Grace Clifford, and be glad of it, too." + +Grandma held up a warning finger. "I declare," said aunt Louise, very +much agitated, "I never shall consent to have Maria go out of town +again, and leave Katie with us. If she will try to swim in the +watering-trough, she is just as likely to take a walk on the +ridgepole of the house." + +Horace darted out of the room with a ghastly face, but came back +looking relieved. He had been up in the attic, and climbed through the +scuttle, without finding any human Fly on the roof, or on the dizzy +tops of the chimneys, either. + +But where was the child? Had Ruth seen her? Had Abner? + +No; the last that could be remembered, she had been playing by herself +in the green chamber, soaking Dinah's feet in a glass of water. The +"blue kitty," the only creature who had anything to tell, sat washing +her face on the kitchen hearth, and yawning sleepily. Fly's shaker was +gone from the "short nail," and aunt Louise discovered some bank-bills +in a wash-bowl,--"Fly's work, of course." But this was all they knew. + +Grandpa searched the barn, Abner the fields, Ruth the cellar; aunt +Louise and Horace ran down to the river. In half an hour several of +the neighbors had joined in the search. + +"I always thought there would be a last time," said poor Mrs. Dr. +Gray, putting on her black bonnet, and joining Grace and Susy. "That +child seems to me like a little spirit, or a fairy, and I never +thought she would live long. She and Charlie were too lovely for this +world." + +"O, _don't_, Mrs. Gray," said Grace. "If you knew how often she'd been +lost, you would not say so! We always find her, after a while, +somewhere." + +Horace, who had gone on in advance, now came running back, swinging +his boots in the air. + +"A trail!" cried he. "I've found a trail! Who planted these boots in +the road, if it wasn't Fly Clifford?" + +"Perhaps she has gone to aunt Martha's," said Mrs. Parlin, "or tried +to. Strange we did not think of that!" + +But aunt Martha had not seen her, nor had any one else. Horace and +Abner went up to the Pines, but the forest beyond they never thought +of exploring; it did not seem probable that such a small child could +have strolled to such a distance as that. + +Supper time came and went. There was a short thunder-shower. The +Parlins shuddered at every flash of lightning, and shivered at every +drop of rain; for where was delicate, lost little Fly? + +Abner and Horace were out during the shower. Horace would have braved +hurricanes and avalanches in the cause of his dear little Topknot. + +"There's one thing we haven't thought of," said Abner, shaking the +drops from his hat and looking up at the sky, which had cleared again; +"we haven't thought of the railroad surveyors! They are round the town +everywhere with their compasses and spy-glasses." + +It was not a bad idea of Abner's. He and Horace went to the hotel +where the railroad men boarded. The engineer's face lighted at once. + +"I wish I had known before there was a child missing," he said. "I saw +the figure of a little girl, through my glass, not an hour ago. It was +a long way beyond the Pines, and I wondered how such a baby happened +up there; but I had so much else to think of that it passed out of my +mind." + +About eight o'clock, Flyaway was found in the woods, sound asleep, +under a hemlock tree, her faithful Dinah hugged close to her heart. + +There was a shout from a dozen mouths. Horace's eyes overflowed. He +caught his beloved pet in his arms. + +"O, little Topknot!" he cried. "Who's got you? Look up, look up, +little Brown-brimmer." + +All Flyaway could do was to sob gently, and then curl her head down on +her brother's shoulder, saying, sleepily, "Cold, ou' doors stayin'." + +"Why did our darling run away?" + +"Didn't yun away; I's goin' up to heaven see Charlie," replied +Flyaway, suddenly remembering the object of her journey, and gazing +around at Abner, Dr. Gray, and the other people, with eyes full of +wonder. "Where's the toppest hill? I's goin' up, carry Charlie some +canny." + +The people formed a line, and, as Prudy said, "processed" behind Katie +all the way to the village. + +"Is we goin' to heaven?" said the child, still bewildered. "It yunned +away and away, and all off!" + +"No, you blessed baby, you are not going to heaven just yet, if we can +help it," answered Dr. Gray, leaning over Horace's shoulder to kiss +the child. + +Flyaway was too tired to ask any more questions. She let first one +person carry her, and then another, sometimes holding up her swollen +thumb, and murmuring, "'Orny 'ting me--tell my mamma." And after that +she was asleep again. + +Dotty Dimple, Susy, and Prudy were pacing the piazza when the party +arrived, but poor grandma was on the sofa in the parlor, quite +overcome with anxiety and fatigue, and Miss Polly Whiting was +mournfully fanning her with a black feather fan. The sound of voices +roused Mrs. Parlin. "Safe! safe!" was the cry. Dotty Dimple rushed in, +shouting, "A railroad savage found her! a railroad savage found her!" + +In another moment the runaway was in her grandmother's lap. All she +could say was, "'Orny 'ting me on my fum! 'Orny 'ting me on my fum!" +For this one little bite of a bee seemed greater to Flyaway Clifford +than all the dangers she had passed. If grandma would only kiss her +"fum," it was no matter about going to heaven, or even being +undressed. + +But after she had had a bowl of bread and milk, and been nicely +bathed, she forgot her sufferings, and laughed in her sleep. She was +dreaming how Charlie came to the door of heaven and helped her up the +steps. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +EAST AGAIN. + + +A whole year passed. Dotty Dimple became a school-girl, with a "bosom +friend" and a pearl ring. Prudy, who called herself "the middle-aged +sister," grew tall and slender. Katie was four years old, and just a +little heavier, so she no longer needed a cent in her pocket to keep +her from blowing away. + +The Parlins had been at Willowbrook a week before the Cliffords +arrived. There was a great sensation over Katie. She was delighted to +hear that she had grown more than any of the others. + +"I'm gettin' old all over!" said she, gayly. "Four--goin' to be five! +Wish I was most six. Dotty Dimpul, don't you wish _you's_ most a +_hunderd_?" + +"O, you cunning little cousin!" said Dotty, embracing her rapturously; +"I wish you loved me half as well as I love you; that's what I wish. I +told Tate Penny you were prettier than Tid; and so you are. Such red +cheeks! But what makes one cheek redder than the other?" + +"O, I eat my bread 'n' milk that side o' my mouf," replied Flyaway; +"and that's why." + +"What an idea! And your hair is just as fine as ever it was; the color +of my ring--isn't it, Prudy?" + +Flyaway put her little hand to her head, and felt the floss flying +about as usual. + +"My hair comes all to pieces," explained she; "_or nelse_ I have a +ribbon to tie it up with." + +"Are you glad to come back to Willowbrook, you precious little dear?" +asked two or three voices. + +"Yes 'm," said Flyaway, doubtfully; "Y--es--um." + +"She doesn't remember anything about it, I guess," said Prudy, +kneeling before the little one, and kissing the sweet place in her +neck. + +"Yes, I do," said Flyaway, winking hard and breathing quick in the +effort to recall the very dim and very distant past; "yes, I 'member." + +"Well, what do you 'member?" + +"O, once I was grindin' coffee out there in a yellow chair, and +somebody she came and put me in the sink." + +"She does know--doesn't she?" said Dotty. "That was Ruthie; come out +in the kitchen and see her." + +But when Flyaway first looked into Ruth's smiling face, with its black +eyes and sharp nose, she could not remember that she had ever seen it +before. Abner, too, was strange to her. + +"Come here," said he, "and I can tell in a minute if you are a good +little girl." + +Flyaway cast down her soft eyes, and sidled along to Abner. + +"Here, touch this watch," said he, "and if you are a good little girl +it will fly open; if you are naughty it will stay shut." + +Flyaway looked askance at Abner, her finger in her mouth, but dared +not touch the watch. + +"Who'd 'a thought it, now?" said Abner, pretending to be shocked. +"Looks to be a nice child; but of course she isn't, or she'd come +right up and open the watch." + +Flyaway thrust another finger in her mouth, and pressed her eyelids +slowly together. Abner did not understand this, but it meant that he +had not treated her with proper respect. + +"Here, Ruth," said he, in a low tone, "hand me one of your plum tarts; +that'll fetch her.--Come here, my pretty one, and see what's inside of +this little pie." + +Flyaway was very hungry. She took a step forward, and held her hand +out, though rather timidly. + +"But she mustn't eat it without asking her mamma," said Ruth. + +"Yes; O, yes," cried Miss Flyaway, opening her little mouth for the +first time, and shutting it again over a big bite of tart; "I want to +eat it and _s'prise_ my mamma." + +Abner laughed in his hearty fashion. "Some of the old mischief left +there yet," said he, catching Flyaway and tossing her to the ceiling. +"Have you come here this summer to keep the whole house in commotion? +Remember the Charlie boy--don't you--that had the meal-bags tied to +his feet?" + +"Did he? What for?" + +Flyaway had not the least recollection of Charlie; but Horace had +talked to her about him, and she said, after a moment's thought,-- + +"Yes, he washed the pig. Me and Charlie, we played all everything what +we thinked about." + +"So you did, surely," said a woman who had just come in at the back +door, and begun to drop kisses, as sad as tears, on Flyaway's +forehead. "Do you know who this is?" Flyaway looked up with a sweet +smile, but her mind had lost all impression of her melancholy friend, +Miss Whiting. "Look again," said the sad-eyed stranger, who did not +like to have even a little child forget her; "you used to call me the +'Polly woman.'" + +Katie looked again, and this time very closely. + +"There's a great deal o' yellowness in your face," exclaimed she, +after a careful survey; "but you was made so!" + +Miss Polly laughed drearily. "So you don't remember how I took you out +of the watering-trough, you sweet lamb! 'I's tryin' to swim,' you +said; 'and _that's_ what is it.' Here's a summer-sweeting for you, +dear; do you like them?" + +"Yes'm, thank you," said Flyaway, "but I like summer-_sourings_ the +best." + +At the same time she allowed herself to be taken in Miss Polly's lap, +and won that tender-hearted woman's love by putting her arms round her +neck, and saying, "Let me kiss you so you'll feel all better. What +makes you have tears in your eyes?--tell me." + +"We're good friends--I knew we should be," said Miss Polly, quite +cheerily. "Look out of the window, and see that swing. How many times +I've pushed you and Dotty in that swing when it seemed as if it would +break my back!" + +Flyaway looked out. There stood the two trees, and between them hung +the old swing; but the charm was forgotten. In the field beyond, her +eye fell on an object more interesting to her. + +"O, O," said she, "I don't see how God _could_ make a man so homebly +as that!" + +"So homely as what?" + +"Why," laughed Dotty, "she means that scarecrow." + +The corn was up long ago, but one direful image had still been left to +flaunt in the sunlight and soak in the rain. + +"That isn't a man," said Prudy; "it's only a great monstrous rag baby, +with a coat on." + +"Put there to frighten away the crows," added Miss Polly. "When Abner +dropped corn in the ground, the great black crows wanted to come and +pick it out, and eat it up." + +Flyaway frowned in token of strong dislike to the crows. "I wouldn't +eat gampa's corn for anything in this world," said she,--"'thout it's +popped! 'Cause I don't like it." + +Miss Polly laughed quite merrily. + +"There," said she, "I've dropped a stitch in my side; it never agrees +with me to laugh. I must be going right home, too; but there is one +thing more I want to ask you, Katie; do you remember how you ran away, +one day, and frightened the whole house, trying to climb up to +heaven?" + +Katie's face was blank; she had forgotten the journey. + +"You passed Jennie Vance and me in the Pines," said Dotty, "and went +deep into the woods, and a bee stung you." + +"O, now I 'member," said Katie, suddenly. "I 'member the bee as plain +as 'tever 'twas!" And she curled her lip with contempt for that small +Flyaway, of long ago--that silly baby who had thought heaven was on a +hill. + +"_I_ went up on a ladder when I was three years old," said Prudy. + +"Did you?" said Flyaway. This was a consolation. "Well, I was three +years old, too; I didn't know 'bout angels--didn't know they had to +have wings on." + +Here Flyaway curled her lip again and smiled. + +"You are wiser now," sighed Miss Polly. "You and I won't try to go to +heaven till our time comes--will we, dear?" + +Katie took Miss Polly's large, thin hand, and measured it beside her +own tiny one. + +"Miss Polly," said she, with one of her extremely wise looks, "when +you go up to God you'll be a very little girl!" + +"Ah, indeed!" said Miss Polly, weaving the third pin into her shawl; +"how do you make that out?" + +"Your body'll all be cut off," replied Katie, making the motion of a +pair of scissors with her fingers; "all be cut right straight off; +there won't be nuffin' left but just your little spirit!" + +"Since you know so much, dear, how large is my spirit?" + +Katie put her hand on the left side of the belt of her apron. + +"Don't you call that small, right under my hand a-beatin'?" said she. +"'Bout's big as a bird, Miss Polly. Little round ball for a head, +little mites o' eyes; but you won't care--you can see _just_ as well." + +"It does beat all where children get such queer ideas--doesn't it, +Ruth?" said Miss Whiting. + +"Didn't you know it?" cried Katie, finding she had startled Miss +Polly. "Didn't you know you's goin' to be little, and fly in the air +just so?" throwing up her arms. "I want to go dreffully, for there's a +gold harp o' music up there, and I'll play on it: it'll be mine." + +"You don't feel in a hurry to die, I hope," said Miss Polly, +anxiously. + +Katie's eager face clouded. "No," said she, sorrowfully; "I want to, +but I hate to go up to God and leave my pink dress. I can't go into it +then, I'll be so little." + +"You'll be just big enough to go into the pocket," laughed Dotty. + +"Hush!" said Miss Polly, gravely; "you shouldn't joke upon such +serious subjects. Good by, children. Your house is full of company, +and I didn't come to stay. Here's a bag of thoroughwort I've been +picking for your grandmother; you may give it to her with my love, and +tell her my side is worse. I shall be in to-morrow." + +So saying, Miss Polly went away, seeming to be wafted out of the room +on a sigh. + +The high-chair was brought down from the attic for Flyaway, who sat +in it that evening at the tea-table, and smiled round upon her friends +in the most benevolent manner. + +"I's growing so big now, mamma," said she, coaxingly, "don't you spect +I must have some tea?" + +Grandmother pleaded for the youngest, too. "Let me give her some just +this once, Maria." + +"Well, _white_ tea, then," returned Mrs. Clifford, smiling; "and will +Flyaway remember not to ask for it again? Mamma thinks little girls +should drink milk." + +"Yes'm, I won't never. She gives it to me _this_ night, 'cause I's her +little _grand-girl_. Mayn't Hollis have it too, 'cause he's her little +grand-_boy_?" + +"Cunning as ever, you see," whispered the admiring Horace to cousin +Susy, who replied, rather indifferently,-- + +"No cunninger than our Prudy used to be." + +Flyaway made quick work of drinking her white tea, and when she came +to the last few drops she swung her cup round and round, saying,-- + +"Didn't you know, Hollis, that's the way gampa does, when _he_ gets +most froo, to make it sweet?" + +No, Horace had not noticed; it was "Fly, with her little eye," who saw +everything, and made remarks about it. + +"O, O," cried Grace, dropping her knife and fork, and patting her +hands softly under the table, "isn't it so nice to be at Willowbrook +again, taking supper together? Doesn't it remind you of pleasant +things, Susy, to eat grandma's cream toast?" + +"Reminds me," said Susy, after reflecting, "of jumping on the hay." + +"'Minds me of--of--" remarked Flyaway; and there she fell into a brown +study, with her head swaying from side to side. + +"I don't know why it is," said Prudy, "but since you spoke, this cream +toast makes me think of the rag-bag. Excuse me for being impolite, +grandma, but where _is_ the rag-bag?" + +"In the back room, dear, where it always is; and you may wheel it off +to-morrow." + +It had been Mrs. Parlin's custom, once or twice every summer, to allow +the children to take the large, heavy rag-bag to the store, and sell +its contents for little articles, which they divided among themselves. +Sometimes the price of the rags amounted to half or three quarters of +a dollar, and there was a regular carnival of figs, candy, and +fire-crackers. + +Horace was so much older now, that he did not fancy the idea of being +seen in the street, trundling a wheelbarrow; but he went on with his +cream toast and made no remark. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE RAG-BAG. + + +Next morning there was a loud call from the three Parlins for the +rag-bag, in which Flyaway joined, though she hardly knew the +difference between a rag-bag and a paper of pins. + +"I wish you to understand, girls," said Horace, flourishing his hat, +"that I'm not going to cart round any such trash for you this summer." + +"Now, Horace!" + +"You know, Gracie, you belong to a Girls' Rights' Society. Do you +suppose I want to interfere with your privileges?" + +"Why, Horace Clifford, you wouldn't see your own sister trundling a +wheelbarrow?" + +"O, no; I shan't be there," said Horace, coolly; "I shan't see you. I +promised to weed the verbena bed for your aunt Louise. Good by, girls. +Success to the rag-bag!" + +"Let's catch him!" cried Susy, darting after her ungallant cousin; but +he ran so fast, and flourished his garden hoe so recklessly, that she +gave up the chase. + +"Let him go," said Grace, with a fine-lady air: "who cares about +rag-bags? We've outgrown that sort of thing, you and I, Susy; let the +little girls have our share." + +"Yes, to be sure," replied Susy, faintly, though not without a pang, +for she still retained a childish fondness for jujube paste, and was +not allowed a great abundance of pocket-money. "Yes, to be sure, let +the _little_ girls have our share." + +"Then may we three youngest have the whole rag-bag?" said Prudy, +brightly. "Dotty, you and I will trundle the wheelbarrow, and Fly +shall go behind." + +"What an idea!" exclaimed Grace. "I've seen little beggar children +drawing a dog-cart. Grandma'll never allow such a thing." + +"Indeed I will," said grandma, tying on her checked apron. "Dog-carts +or wheel-barrows, so they only take care not to be rude. In a city it +is different." + +"Yes, grandma," said Dotty, twisting her front hair joyfully; "but +here in the country they want little girls to have good times--don't +they? Why don't everybody move into the country, do you s'pose? Lots +of bare spots round here,--nothing on 'em but cows." + +"Yes, nuffin' but gampa's cows," chimed in Flyaway, twisting _her_ +front hair. + +"Louisa," said Mrs. Parlin, "you may help me about this loaf of 'Maine +plum cake,' and while you are beating the butter and sugar I will look +over the rag-bag. Dotty, please run for my spectacles." + +When Dotty returned with the spectacles, Jennie Vance came with her, +pouting a little at the cool reception she had met, and thinking Miss +Dimple hardly polite because she was too much interested in an old +rag-bag to pay proper attention to visitors. + +"Grandma, what makes you pick over these rags? We can take them just +as they are." + +"I always do so, my dear, and for several reasons. One is, that +woollen pieces may have crept in by mistake. As we profess to sell +cotton rags, it would be dishonest to mix them with woollen." + +"Yes'm, I understand," said Jennie, who often spoke when it was quite +as well to keep silent; "it's always best to be honest--isn't it, Mrs. +Parlin?" + +The rags were spread out upon the table, giving Flyaway a fine +opportunity to scatter them right and left. + +"O, here's a splendid piece of blue ribbon to make my doll a bonnet," +said Dotty. + +"That's another reason why she picks 'em over," remarked Jennie; "so +she won't waste things. Only, Dotty, that has got an awful +grease-spot." + +"There, children," said Mrs. Parlin, presently, "I have taken out a +card of hooks and eyes, a flannel bandage, and a shoe-string. You may +have everything else." + +Dotty caught her grandmother's arm. "Please, grandma, don't sweep 'em +into the bag; let us look some more. I've just found a big Lisle +glove; if I can find another, then Abner can go blackberrying; he says +his hands are ever so tender." + +"And you thought he was in earnest," said Prudy. "While you are +looking, I'll go into the nursery and finish that holder." + +Flyaway, having climbed upon the table, had rolled herself into some +mosquito netting, like a caterpillar in a cocoon. They were all so +much interested, that grandma, in the kindness of her heart, did not +like to disturb them. + +"You are welcome to all the treasures you can find, but as soon as the +cake is made I shall want the table; so be quick," said she, looking +out from the pantry, where she was beating eggs. + +"Yes, indeed, grandma, we'll hurry; and may we have every single thing +we like the looks of? now, honest." + +"Yes, Dotty." + +Then Mrs. Parlin and Miss Louise talked about currants, and citron, +and quite forgot such trifles as rag-bags. + +"Here's another big glove," said Dotty, "not the same color, but no +matter; and here are some saddle-bags, Jennie. I'm going to be a +doctor." + +"Saddle-bags, Dotty! those are pockets." Jennie took them from Miss +Dimple's hands. They were held together by a narrow strip of brown +linen, and had once belonged to a pair of pantaloons. + +"I'm going to see if there isn't something inside," said Jennie. "Why, +yes, here's a raisin, true's you live. And here, in the other one,--O, +Dotty!" + +But Dotty had run into the nursery to show Prudy a muslin cap. + +"A wad of--" + +Jennie was determined to see what; so she unrolled it. + +"Scrip," cried she, holding up some greenbacks. + +"Skipt," echoed Flyaway, who had come out of the cocoon and gone into +the form of a mop, her head adorned with cotton fringe. + +Yes; a two dollar bill and a one dollar bill, as green as lettuce +leaves. This was a great marvel. Columbus was not half so much +surprised when he discovered America. + +"Mrs. Parlin, do you hear?" + +But Mrs. Parlin heard nothing, for the din of the egg-beating drowned +both the shrill little voices. + +A sudden idea came to Jennie. Whose money was this? Mrs. Parlin's? No; +hadn't Mrs. Parlin looked over the rags once, and said the children +might have what was left? "'You are welcome to all the treasures you +can find;' that was what she said," repeated Jennie to herself. "I'm +the one that found this treasure,--not Dotty, not Flyaway. This is +honest, and I do not lie when I say it." + +Jennie began to tremble, and a hot color flew into her cheeks, and +added new lustre to her black eyes. "If I could only make Flyaway +forget it," thought she, with a whirling sensation of anger towards +the innocent child, who knew no better than to proclaim aloud every +piece of news she heard. "I'll make her forget it." Jenny hastily +concealed the money in the neck of her dress. + +"Where's that skipt? that skipt?" said Flyaway. + +"Fly Clifford," said Jennie, severely, "you've climbed on the table! +Just think of it! Your grandmother doesn't allow you on her table. +What made you get up here." + +"'Cause," replied Flyaway, seizing the kitty by the tail, and +thrusting her into a cabbage-net, "'cause I fought best." + +"But you must get right down, this minute." + +"No," said Flyaway, shaking her head-dress of white fringe with great +solemnity; "I isn't goin' to get down." + +"Ah, but you must." + +Flyaway opened and shut her eyes slowly, in token of deep displeasure. +"I don't never 'low little girls to scold to me," said she. "You'd +better call grandma; 'haps _she_ can make me get down." + +But it was not Jennie's purpose to wait for that; she seized the +little one roughly by the arms, pulled her from the table, and hurried +her into the parlor. + +Flyaway was indignant. "Does you--feel happy?" said she, with a +reproachful glance at Jennie. + +"There, look out of the window, Flyaway, darling, and watch to see if +Horace isn't coming in from the garden." + +"Can't Hollis come, 'thout me watching him?" returned Flyaway, winking +slowly again, for her sweet little soul was stirred with wrath. The +memory of the "skipt" had indeed been driven away, and she could only +think,-- + +"Isn't Jennie so easy fretted! I wasn't doin' nuffin'; and then she +jumped me right down. Unpolite gell! that's one thing." + +And Jennie was thinking, "She never'll remember the money now, or, if +she does, I don't believe Mrs. Parlin will pay any attention to what +she says." Jennie was still very much excited, and wondered why she +trembled so. + +"I don't mean to keep it unless it's perfectly proper," thought she; +"I guess I know the eighth commandment fast enough. I shan't keep it +unless Dotty thinks best. I'll tell her, and see what she says." + +Jennie had often pilfered little things from her mother's cupboard, +such as cake and raisins; but a piece of money of the most trifling +value she had never thought of taking before. + +Leaving Flyaway busy with block houses, she ran to the nursery door, +and motioned with her finger for Dotty to come out. + +"What is it?" said Dotty, when they were both shut into the china +closet; "don't you want my sister Prudy to know?" + +Jennie replied, in a great flutter, "No, no, no. You musn't tell a +single soul, Dotty Dimple, as long as you live, and I'll give you +half." + +"Half what?" + +Jennie produced the money from her bosom, feeling, I am glad to say, +very guilty. "Out o' those saddle-bag pockets out there," added she, +breathlessly; "true's the world." + +"Why, Jennie Vance!" + +"One had a raisin in and a button, and nobody but me would have +thought of looking. You wouldn't--now would you? My father says I've +got such sharp eyes!" + +"H'm!" said Dotty, who considered her own eyes as bright as any +diamonds; "you took the saddle-bag right out of my hand. How do you +know I shouldn't have peeked in?" + +Jennie did not reply, but smoothed out the wrinkled notes with many a +loving pat. + +"What did grandma say?" asked Dotty; "wasn't she pleased?" + +"Your grandmother doesn't know anything about it, Dotty Dimple; what +business is it to her?" + +Jennie's tone was defiant. She assumed a courage she was far from +feeling. + +Dotty was speechless with surprise, but her eyes grew as round as +soap-bubbles. + +"The pockets don't belong to her, Dotty, and never did. They never +came out of any of her dresses--now did they?" + +Dotty's eyes swelled like a couple of bubbles ready to burst. + +"Jennie Vance, I didn't know you's a thief." + +"You stop talking so, Dotty. She was going to sweep everything into +the rag-bag--now wasn't she? And this money would have gone in too, if +it hadn't been for my sharp eyes--now wouldn't it?" + +"But it isn't yours, Jennie Vance--because it don't belong to you." + +"Now, Dotty--" + +"You go right off, Jennie Vance, and carry it to my grandma this +minute." + +The tone of command irritated Jennie. She had not felt at all decided +about keeping the money, but opposition gave her courage. Her temper +and Dotty's were always meeting and striking fire. + +"It isn't your grandma's pockets, Miss Parlin. If it was the last word +I was to speak, it isn't your grandmother's pockets!" + +"Jane Sidney Vance!" + +"You needn't call me by my middle name, and stare so at me, Dotty +Dimple. I was going to give you half!" + +"What do I want of half, when it isn't yours to give?" said Dotty, +gazing regretfully at the money, nevertheless. Three dollars! Why, it +was a small fortune! If it only did really belong to Jenny! + +"Your grandmother said everything we liked the looks of, Dotty. Don't +you like the looks of this?" + +"But you know, Jennie--" + +"O, you needn't preach to me. You wasn't the one that found it. If I'd +truly been a thief, or if I hadn't been a thief, it would have been +right for me to keep it, and perfectly proper, and not said a word to +you, either; so there." + +"Jennie Vance, I'm going right out of this closet, and tell my grandma +what you've said." + +"Wait, Dotty Dimple; let me get through talking. I meant to buy things +for your grandmother with it. O, yes, I did--a silk dress, and cap, +and shoes." + +Dotty twirled her hair, and looked thoughtful. + +"Of course I did. Wouldn't it surprise her, when she wasn't expecting +it? And Flyaway, too,--something for her. We wouldn't keep anything +for ourselves, only just enough to buy clothes and such things as we +really need." + +Before Dotty had time to reply there was a loud scream from the +parlor. + +"Fly is killed--she is killed!" cried Dotty; but Jennie had presence +of mind enough to tuck the bills into the neck of her dress. + +"Don't you tell anybody a word about it, Dotty. If you tell I'll do +something awful to you. Do you hear?" + +Dotty heard, but did not answer. The fate of her cousin Flyaway seemed +more important to her just then than all the bank-bills in the world. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE WICKED GIRL. + + +Flyaway had only been climbing the outside of the staircase, and would +have done very well, if some one had not rung the door-bell, and +startled her so that she fell from the very top stair to the floor. It +was feared, at first, that several bones were broken and her intellect +injured for life; but after crying fifteen minutes, she seemed to feel +nearly as well as before. + +"If ever a child was made of thistle-down it is Flyaway Clifford," +said aunt Louise. + +Still it was not thought best for her to fatigue herself that day by +selling rags, and the wheelbarrow enterprise was put off until the +next morning. + +The person who rang the door-bell was Mrs. Vance's girl Susan, who +called for Jennie to go home and try on a frock. Jennie did not +return, and Dotty had a sense of uneasiness all day. The guilty secret +of the three dollars weighed upon her mind. Should she, or should she +not, tell her grandmother? + +"I don't know but Jennie would do something to my things if I told," +thought she; "but then I never promised a word. Here it is four +o'clock. Who knows but she's gone and spent that money, and my +grandmother never'll know what's 'come of it?" + +This possibility was very alarming. "Jennie Vance doesn't seem to have +any little whisper inside of _her_ heart, that ticks like a watch; +but _I_ have. _My_ conscience pricks; so I know that perhaps it's my +duty to go and tell." + +Dotty drew herself up virtuously and looked in the glass. There she +seemed to see an angelic little girl, whose only wish was to do just +right--a little girl as much purer than Jennie Vance, as a lily is +purer than a very ugly toadstool. + +Well, Miss Dotty, there is some truth in the picture. Jennie is not a +good child; but neither are you an angel. There is more wickedness in +your proud little heart than you will ever begin to find out. And wait +a minute. Who teaches you all you know of right and wrong? Is it your +mother? Suppose she had died, as did Jennie's mamma, when you were a +toddling baby? + +There, that's all; you do not hear a word I say; and if you did, you +would not heed, O, self-righteous Dotty Dimple! + +Dotty ran up stairs to find her grandmother. + +"Grandma," whispered she, though there was no one else in the room; +"something dreadful has happened. You've lost three dollars!" + +"What, dear?" + +"O, you needn't look in your pocket. Jennie found 'em in the rag-bag, +and tried to make me take half; but of course I never; and now she's +run off with 'em!" + +"Found three dollars in the rag-bag? I guess not." + +"Yes, grandma; for I saw her just as she was going to find em', in a +pair of pockets. I should have seen 'em myself if she hadn't looked +first." + +"Indeed! Is this really so? But she ought to have come and given them +to me." + +"That was just what I told her, over and over, grandma, and over +again. But she's a dreadful naughty girl, Jennie Vance is. If there's +anything bad she can do, she goes right off and does it." + +"Hush, my child." + +"Yes'm, I won't say any more, _only_ I don't think my mother would +like to have me play with little girls that take money out of +rag-bags." + +Dotty drew herself up again in a very stately way. + +"Jennie _said_ she was going to buy you a silk dress and so forth; but +she does truly lie so, 'one to another,' that you can't believe her +for certain, not half she says." + +Grandma looked over her spectacles and through the window, as if +trying to see what ought to be done. + +[Illustration: "YOU CAN'T BELIEVE HER FOR CERTAIN."] + +"You did right to tell me this, my child," said she; "but I wish you +to say nothing about it to any one else: will you remember?" + +"Yes'm," replied Dotty, trying to read her grandmother's face, and +feeling a little alarmed by its solemnity. "What you going to do, +grandma? Not put Jennie in the lockup--are you? 'Cause if you do--O, +don't you! She said 'twas her sharp eyes, and she didn't mean to +steal, and 'twasn't your pockets, and she promised she'd give me +half--yes, she truly did, grandma." + +"Go, dear, and bring me my bonnet from the band-box in my bed-room +closet." + +Then Mrs. Parlin folded the sheet she was making, put on her best +shawl and bonnet, and kid gloves, and taking her sun umbrella, set out +for a walk. There was a look in her face which made her little +granddaughter think it would not be proper to ask any questions. + +Mrs. Parlin met Jennie Vance coming in at the gate. + +"O, dear," thought Dotty, "I don't want to see her. Grandma says I've +done right, but Jennie'll call me a tell-tale. I'll go out in the barn +and hide." + +The guilty secret had lain heavy at Jennie's heart all day. As soon as +her dress-maker could spare her, and a troublesome little cousin had +left, she asked permission to go to Mrs. Parlin's. + +"Dotty thinks I meant to keep it," she thought. "I never did see such +a girl. You can't say the least little thing but she takes it sober +earnest, and says she'll tell her grandmother." + +Jennie stole round by the back door, and timidly asked for Miss +Dimple. + +"I'm sure I don't know where she is," answered Ruthie, with a pleasant +smile; "nor Flyaway either. I have been living in peace for half an +hour." + +Ruthie made you think of lemon candy; she was sweet and tart too. + +While Jennie, with the kind assistance of Prudy, was hunting for +Dotty, Mrs. Parlin was in Judge Vance's parlor, talking with Jennie's +step-mother. Mrs. Vance was shocked to hear of her daughter's conduct, +for she loved her and wished her to do right. + +"My poor Jennie," said she; "from her little babyhood until she was +six years old, there was no one to take care of her but a hired nurse, +who neglected her sadly." + +"I know just what sort of training Jennie has had from Serena Pond," +said Mrs. Parlin; "it was most unfortunate. But you are so faithful +with her, my dear Mrs. Vance, that I do believe she will outgrow all +those early influences." + +"I keep hoping so," said Mrs. Vance, repressing a sigh; "I take it +very kindly of you, Mrs. Parlin, that you should come to me with this +affair. I shall not allow Jennie to go to your house very often. You +do not like to wound my feelings, but I am sure you cannot wish to +have your little granddaughter very intimate with a child who is sly +and untruthful." + +"My dear lady," said grandma Parlin, taking Mrs. Vance's hand, and +pressing it warmly; "since we are talking so freely together, and I +know you are too generous to be offended, I will confess to you that +if Jennie persists in concealing this money, I would prefer not to +have Dotty play with her very much; at least while her mother is not +here to have the care of her." It was hard for Mrs. Parlin to say +this, and she added presently,-- + +"Please let Jennie spend the night at our house. She may wish to talk +with me; we will give her the opportunity." + +Mrs. Vance gladly consented. She had observed that Jennie seemed +unhappy, and was very anxious to see Dotty again. She hoped she had +gone to return the money of her own free will. + +When Mrs. Parlin opened the nursery door at home, she found Jennie +building block houses, to Flyaway's great delight, while at the other +end of the room sat Dotty Dimple, resolutely sewing patchwork. + +"O, grandma," spoke up Flyaway, "Jennie came to see me; she didn't +come to see Dotty, 'cause Dotty don't want to talk. There, now, +Jennie, make a rat to put in the cupboard. R goes first to rat." + +Innocent little Flyaway! She had long ago forgotten her pique against +Jennie for being "so easy fretted," and jumping her down from the +table. + +Wretched little Jennie! The new blue and white frock, just finished by +her dress-maker, covered a heart filled with mortification. Dotty +Dimple would not talk to her. It seemed as if Dotty had climbed to the +top of a high mountain, and was looking down, down upon her. + +Dotty did feel very exalted to-day; but there was another reason why +she would not talk with Jennie: she might have to confess that grandma +knew about the money; and then what a scene there would be! So Dotty +set her lips together, and sewed as if she was afraid somebody would +freeze to death before she could finish her patchwork quilt. + +Mrs. Clifford, who did not understand the cause of Dotty's lofty mood, +took pity on Jennie, and tried to amuse her. After a while, Dotty came +softly along, and sat down close to her aunt Maria, ready to listen to +the story of the "Pappoose," though she had heard it fifty times +before. + +She did not see Jennie alone for one moment. Grandma Parlin did. +"Jennie," said she, taking her into the parlor to show her a new +shell, "are you going with our little girls, to-morrow, to sell rags?" + +"I don't know, ma'am, I'm sure," replied Jennie, looking hard at the +sofa. She longed to make an open confession, and get rid of the +troublesome money, but had not the courage to do it without some help +from Dotty. + +"O, dear," thought she, "I feel just as wicked with that money in my +bosom! Seems as if she could hear it crumple. If Dotty would only let +me talk to her first!" + +But Dotty continued as unapproachable as the Pope of Rome. Eight +o'clock came, and the two unhappy little girls went slowly up stairs +to bed. Dotty, in her lofty pride, tried to make her little friend +feel herself a sinner; while Jennie, ready to hide herself in the +potato-bin for shame, was, at the same time, very angry with the +self-satisfied Miss Dimple. She was awed by her superior goodness, but +did not love her any the better for it. Why should she? Dotty's +goodness lacked + + "_Humility_, that low, sweet root, + From which all heavenly virtues shoot." + +"Here, Miss Parlin," said Jennie, angrily, as she took off her dress; +"here it is, right in my neck. I should have gone and given it to your +grandmother, ever so long ago, if you hadn't acted so!" + +Dotty pulled off her stockings. + +"I 'spose you thought I was going to keep it. Here, take your old +money!" + +"You did mean to keep it, Jane Sidney Vance," retorted Dotty, as +fierce as a thistle; and finished undressing at the top of her speed. + +The money lay on the floor, and neither of the proud girls would pick +it up. Jennie, who always prayed at her mother's knee, forgot her +prayer to-night, and climbed into bed without it. But Dotty, feeling +more than ever how much better she was than her little friend, knelt +beside a chair, and prayed in a loud voice. First, she repeated the +"Lord's Prayer," then "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild," and "Now I lay +me down to sleep." She was not talking to her heavenly Father, but to +Jennie, and ended her petitions thus:-- + +"O God, forgive me if I have done anything naughty to-day; and please +forgive _Jennie Vance, the wickedest girl in this town_." + +Then the little Pharisee got into bed. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +"WHEELBARROWING." + + +"The wickedest girl in this town!" Jennie's eyes flashed in the dark +like a couple of fireflies. At first she was too angry to speak; and +when words did come, they were too weak. She wanted words that were so +strong, and bitter, and fierce, that they would make Dotty quail. But +all she could say was,-- + +"O, dreadful good you are, Miss Parlin! Good's the minister! Ah! guess +I'll get out and sleep on the floor!" + +Dotty made no reply, but rolled over to the front of the bed, and +Jennie pushed herself to the back of it. There the little creatures +lay in silence, each on an edge of the bedstead, and a whole mattress +between. Sleep did not come at once. + +"She's left that money on the floor," thought Dotty; "what if a mouse +should creep down the chimney, and gnaw it all up? But she must take +care of it herself. _I_ shan't!" + +And Jennie thought, wrathfully, "Dotty says such long prayers she +can't stop to pick up that scrip! If she expects me to get out of bed, +she's made a mistake; I won't touch her old money." + +About nine o'clock grandma Parlin came quietly into the room with a +lamp. A smile crept round the corners of her mouth, as she saw the +little girls sleeping so widely apart, their faces turned away from +each other. + +"How is this?" said she, as the two bills caught her eye. "Of all the +foolish children! Dropping money about the room like waste paper!" + +The light awoke Jennie, who had only just fallen asleep. "Now is the +time," said she to herself; and without waiting for a second thought, +which would have been a worse one, she sprang out of bed, and caught +Mrs. Parlin by the skirts. + +"That money is yours, Mrs. Parlin," said she, bravely. "Yours; I found +it in the rag-bag. Something naughty came into me this morning, and +made me want to keep it; but I'm ever so sorry, and never'll do it +again. Will you forgive me?" + +Then grandma Parlin seated herself in a rocking-chair, took Jennie +right into her lap, and talked to her a long while in the sweetest +way. Jennie curled her head into the good woman's neck, and sobbed +out all her wretchedness. + +"She knew she was real bad, and people didn't like to have her play +with their little girls, and Dotty Dimple thought she was awful; but +_was_ she the wickedest girl in this town?" + +"No; O, no!" + +"Wasn't Dotty some bad, too?" + +"Yes, Dotty often did wrong." + +Then Jenny wept afresh. + +"She knew she _was_ worse than Dotty, though. She wished,--O, dear, as +true as she lived,--she wished she was dead and buried, and drowned in +the Red Sea, and the grass over her grave, and shut up in jail, and +everything else." + +Then Mrs. Parlin soothed her with kind words, but told the truth with +every one. + +"No 'm," Jennie said; "it wasn't right to take fruit-cake without +leave, or tell wrong stories either; she wouldn't any more. Yes'm, she +would try to be good--she never had tried much.--Yes 'm, she would ask +God to help her. Should you suppose He would do it? + +"Yes 'm, she would ask Him not to let her have much temptation. She +did believe she would rather be a good girl--a real good girl, like +Prudy, _not like Dotty_!--than to have a velvet dress with spangles +all over it." + +All this while Dotty did not waken. In the morning she was surprised +to see her little bedfellow looking so cheerful. + +"I've told your grandmother all about it," said Jennie with a smile. +"I knew I did wrong, but I don't believe I should have meant to if you +hadn't acted so your _own_ self--now that's a fact." + +"You haven't seen my grandmother," returned Dotty, not noticing the +last clause of her friend's remark. "You dreamed it." + +"No, she came in here and forgave me. She's the best woman in this +world. What do you think she said about you, Dotty Dimple? She said +there were other little girls full as good as you are. There!" + +"O!" + +"Said you 'often did wrong,' that's _just_ what," added Jennie, +correcting herself, and making sure of the "white truth." + +Step by step Dotty came down from the mountain-top, and, before +breakfast was ready, had led her visitor through the morning dew to +the playhouse under the trees, chatting all the way as if nothing had +happened. + +It proved that the money belonged to Abner. He had missed it several +weeks before, and ever since that had been suspecting old Daniel +McQuilken, a day laborer, of stealing it. + +"I'm ashamed of it now," said Abner to Ruth, "though I didn't tell +anybody but you. I wish you'd mix a pitcher of sweetened water, and +let me take it out to the field to old Daniel. I feel as if I wanted +to make it up to him some way." + +Ruth laughed; and when Abner came into the house at ten o'clock, she +had a pitcher of molasses and water ready for him, also a plate of +cherry turnovers. Flyaway insisted upon toddling over the ground with +one of the turnovers in her apron. + +"Man," said she, when they reached the field, and she saw the Irishman +with his funny red and white hair, "what's your name, man?" + +He wiped his face with his checked shirt-sleeve, and took a turnover +from her hand, bowing very low as he did so. + +"Thank ee, my little lady; sense you're plazed to ask me,--my name's +Dannul." + +"O, are you?" said Flyaway, looking up in surprise at the large and +oddly-dressed stranger. "Are you Daniel? My mamma's just been reading +about you. You was in the lions' den--_wasn't_ you, Daniel?" + +Mr. McQuilken smiled at bareheaded, flossy-haired little Katie, and +replied, with a wink at Abner,-- + +"Fath, little lady, and I suppose I'm that same Dannul; but 'twas so +long ago I've clane forgot aboot it entirely." + +"O, did you? Well, you _was_ in the lions' den, Daniel, but they +didn't bite you, you know, 'cause you prayed so long and so loud, +with your winners up; and then God wouldn't let 'em bite." + +Old Daniel laid both his huge hands on Katie's head. + +"Swate little chirrub," said he, "don't she look saintish?" + +Katie moved away; she did not like to have her hair pulled, and Daniel +was unconsciously drawing it through the big cracks in his fingers, as +if he was waxing silk. + +"I guess I'll go home now," said she, with a timid glance at the man +whom the lions did not bite; "they'll be spectin' me." + +Abner and Daniel both watched the tiny figure across the fields till +Ruth came out to meet it, and it fluttered into the east door of the +house. + +"There, she's safe," said Abner; "she needs as much looking after as +a young turkey." + +"She runs like a little sperrit, bliss her swate eyes," said Daniel. +"I had one as pooty as her, but she's at Mary's fate, Hivven rist her +sowl!" + +The moment Flyaway reached the house, she rushed into the parlor to +tell her mother the news. + +"The man you readed about in the book, mamma, he's out there! Daniel, +that the lions didn't bite, mamma, 'cause he prayed so long and so +loud with his winners up; he's out there--got a hat on." + +"O, no, my child; it is thousands of years since Daniel was in the +lions' den; he died long and long ago." + +"But he said he did, mamma; he told me so. I _fought_ he was dead, +mamma, but he said he wasn't." + +Mrs. Clifford shook her head. "I dare say his name is Daniel, but he +was never in a lion's den." + +Flyaway opened and closed her eyes in the slowest and most impressive +manner. "Mamma," said she, solemnly, "does--folks--tell--lies?" + +It was an entirely now idea to the innocent child: it stamped itself upon +her mind like a motto on warm sealing-wax, "Folks--does--tell--lies." + +Mrs. Clifford was sorry to see the look of distrust on the young face. + +"Listen to me, little Flyaway. I think the man was in sport; he was +only playing with you, as Horace does sometimes, when he calls himself +your horse." + +Flyaway said no more, but she pressed her eyelids together again, and +felt that she had been trifled with. Half an hour afterwards Prudy +heard her repeating, slowly, to herself, "Folks--does--tell--lies." + +"Why, here she is," called Dotty from the piazza; "come, Fly; we're +going wheel-barrowing." + +"Wait a minute, cousin Dotty," said Mrs. Clifford; "Flyaway must put +on a clean frock; she is not coming home with you, but you are to +leave her at aunt Martha's. I shall meet her there at dinner time." + +"O, mamma, may I? I love you a hundred rooms full. Let me go bring my +_buttoner bootner_ quick's a minute." + +Flyaway was not long in getting ready. She was never long about +anything. + +"You said we might have all the money, we three--didn't you, grandma?" +asked Dotty again, at the last moment, thinking how glad she was +Jennie had gone home, and would not claim a share. + +"Yes," replied patient grandma for the fifth time; "you may do +anything you like with it, except to buy colored candy." + +As they were trundling the wheelbarrow out of the yard, Horace came up +from the garden. + +"Prudy," said he, with rather a shame-faced glance at his favorite +cousin, "you girls will cut a pretty figure, parading through the +streets like a gang of pedlers. Come, let me be the driver." + +"O, we thought you couldn't leave your flower-beds, sir," replied +Prudy, sweeping a courtesy. + +"Well, the weeds _are_ pretty tough, ma'am; roots 'way down in China, +and the Emperor objects to parting with 'em; but--" + +"Poh! we don't need any boys," cried the self-sustained Miss Dimple; +"if your hands are too soft, Prudy, you mustn't push. Wait and see +what Dotty Dimple can do." + +"O, then, if you spurn me and my offer, good by. I suppose my little +Topknot goes for _surplusage_," said Horace, who liked now and then to +puzzle Dotty with a new word. He meant that Flyaway was of no use, but +rather in the way. + +"No, she needn't do any such thing," returned Dotty. "Jump in, Fly, +and sit on the bag." And off moved the gay little party, "the +middle-aged sister" laughing so she could hardly push, Flyaway dancing +up and down on the rag-bag, like a humming-bird balancing itself on a +twig; Grace and Susy looking down from the "green chamber" window, and +saying to each other, with wounded family pride, "_Should_ you think +grandma would allow it?" Out in the street the young rag-merchants +were greeted by a cow lowing dismally. Flyaway, in her rustic +carriage, felt as secure as the fabled "kid on the roof of a house;" +so she called out, "Don't cry, old cow; I 'shamed o' you." + +At this Prudy and Dotty laughed harder than ever. + +"'Sh right up, old cow," said Flyaway, standing on her "tipsy-toes," +and making a threatening gesture with her little arms; "'Sh right +up!--O, why don't that cow mind in a minute?" + +In her earnestness the little girl pushed the bag to one side, and +Prudy and Dotty, shaking with laughter, tipped over the wheelbarrow. +No harm was done except to give Flyaway a dust-bath in her nice clean +frock. Just as they were struggling with the bag, to get it in again, +they were overtaken by a droll-looking equipage. It was a long house +on wheels, and instantly reminded Dotty of Noah's ark. + +"O, a house a-ridin'! a house a-ridin'!" exclaimed Flyaway, gazing +after it with the greatest astonishment. + +Dotty thought the world was going topsy-turvy. She looked at the trees +to see if they stood fast in the ground. But Prudy explained it as +soon as she could stop laughing. + +"Only a photograph saloon," said she. "Didn't you ever see one before? +We don't have them in the city going round so, but things are +different in the country. Let's watch and see where it stops." + +"O, dear me," said Dotty; "I shouldn't want to live in a house that +couldn't stand still! Stove tipping over, and the gingerbread falling +out of the oven! There, I declare!" + +The look of wonder on Dotty's face was so amusing that Prudy was +obliged to hold on to her sides. + +"There, look!" said she; "it has stopped down by the corner. Now the +man can bake his gingerbread if he wants to, and the stove won't tip +over. Jump in, Flyaway, and finish your ride." + +"No-o," said Flyaway, wavering between her fear of the cow, some yards +ahead, and her fear of the rocking, unsteady wheelbarrow. "Guess I +won't get in no more, Prudy; it wearies me." + +"Wearies you?" + +"Yes: don't you know what 'wearies' means, Prudy? It means it makes me +a--a--little--scared!" + +And in her "weariness" Flyaway nestled between her two cousins, and +kept fast hold of their skirts till the cow was safely passed and the +red store reached. + +"Bravo!" exclaimed Mr. Bradley, the merchant, as he came out and +dragged the rag-bag into the store; "so you've taken the business into +your own hands, my little women? Ah, this is a progressive age! Walk +in--walk in." + +Prudy blushed, Dotty smiled, and Flyaway took off her hat, as she +usually did when she did not know what else to do. + +"Take some seats, young ladies," said Mr. Bradley, placing three +chairs in a row, and bowing as if to the most distinguished visitors. +Two or three men, who were lounging about the counter, looked on with +a smile. Dotty was very well satisfied, for she enjoyed attention; but +Prudy, who was older, and had a more delicate sense of propriety, +blushed and cast down her eyes. She had thought nothing of driving a +wheelbarrow through the street, but now, for the first time, a feeling +of mortification came over her. If Mr. Bradley would only keep quiet! + +"A fine morning, my young friends! Rather warm, to be sure. And so you +have brought rags to sell? Would you like the money for them, or do +you think we can make a trade with some articles out of the store?" + +"Grandma said we could have the money between us, we three," replied +Dotty, with refreshing frankness, "and buy anything we please except +red and yellow candy." + +"I want a _music_," said Flyaway, in an eager whisper; "a music, and a +ollinge, and a pig." + +"Hush!" said Prudy, for the man with a piece of court-plaster on his +cheek was certainly laughing. + +Mr. Bradley took the bag into another room to weigh it. A boy was in +there, drawing molasses. "James," said Mr. Bradley, "run down cellar, +and bring up some beer for these young ladies." + +There was a smile on James's face as he drove the plug into the +barrel. Prudy saw it through the open door, and it went to her heart. +The cream beer was excellent, but Prudy did not relish it. She and +Dotty had been whispering together. + +"We will take two thirds of the rags in money, if you please," said +Prudy, in such a low tone that Mr. Bradley had to bend his ear to +hear. + +"Because," added Dotty, who wished to have everything clearly +explained, "because we want to have our tin-types taken, sir. We saw +a saloon riding on wheels, and we thought we'd go there, and see if +the man wasn't ready to take pictures." + +"And our little cousin may use her third, and buy something out of the +store, if you please," said the blushing Prudy. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +TIN-TYPES. + + +Mr. Bradley said he did not often allow any one behind his counter, as +all the boys in the village could testify; but these young ladies were +welcome in any part of the store. + +"That little one is the spryest child I ever saw," said the man with +the court-plaster, as Flyaway hovered about the candy-jars, like a +butterfly over a flower-bed. "She isn't a Yankee child--is she?" + +"No, sir," replied Dotty, quickly; "she is a _westerness_." + +She had heard Horace use the word, and presumed it was correct. + +"I do wish Dotty would be more afraid of strangers," thought Prudy. "I +never will take her anywhere again--with a wheelbarrow." + +Flyaway fluttered around for a minute, and then alighted upon her +favorite sweet-meats, "_pepnits_." She chose for her portion a large +amount of these, an harmonica, and a sugar pig, which Dotty assured +her was not "colored." "Nothing but pink dots, and those you can pick +off." + +"The rags came to seventy-five cents, and this young lady has now had +her third; here is the remainder," said Mr. Bradley, smiling as he +gave each of the little Parlins some money, and bowed them out of the +store. + +"I'll put it in _my_ porte-monnaie, sir; my sister Prudy didn't bring +hers." + +"What makes you talk so much, Dotty Dimple?" said Prudy, "that man +has been making sport of us all the time." + +"Did he?" said Dotty, solemnly. "I'm 'stonished at grandma Parlin +letting us sell rags! Wish this wheelbarrow was in the _Stiftic +Ocean_." + +"But it isn't, little sister, and the worst of it is, we've got to +take it to the photograph saloon; it's so far home and back again." + +"Got to take the ole _wheelbarrel_ every single where we go," pouted +Flyaway, as drearily as either of her cousins. + +"You needn't mind it, though," said Dotty, giving the one-wheeled +coach a hard push; "a little girl that's going visiting, and have +succotash for dinner." + +"I didn't know I was. O, I _am_ so glad! What is it!" + +"Corn and beans. Aunt Martha's girl is the best cook,--makes cherry +pudding. Dear, dear, dear! Wish I was in Portland; see 'f I wouldn't +go to Tate Penny's, and have some salmon and ice-cream!" + +Down the beautiful shaded street walked the three little rag-pedlers; +and it did seem as if they were met by all the people in town, from +the minister down to the barefoot boys going fishing. At last they +arrived at the house on wheels. + +"Now I'll tell you, Fly, what we're going to do," said Prudy. "Dotty +and I want to have our tin-types taken, to give to grandma, as a +pleasant surprise. We'll pay for yours too, if you'll sit for it." + +"_Tin-tybe_? Of course, indeed I will. Won't I have nuffin to do but +just sit still? But I'd rather be gentle (generous), and give it to my +mamma." + +"Well, to your mamma, then. What will be the harm, Dotty, in leaving +this wheelbarrow out here at the door?" + +"I don't know," said Dotty; "I hope there won't any 'bugglers' come +along, and steal it." + +"I shall watch it," replied Prudy, with a care-worn look; and they all +went up the steps and entered the little picture-gallery. + +The windows were closed, and the odor of chemicals was so stifling, +that the children almost gasped for breath. The artist seemed glad to +see them, made no remarks about the wheelbarrow, though he must have +noticed it, and said he would be ready in a few minutes. While they +waited, they walked about the room, looking at the pictures on the +walls. + +"See," said Dotty; "there is Abby Grant, with her hair frizzed. Prudy" +(in a low whisper), "you don't s'pose he will carry us off--do you? I +forgot about the wheels, or I wouldn't have come! O, see that little +boy; hands as big as my father's! Here comes Jennie Vance; I'm going +to call her in." + +Dotty had forgotten her contempt for her lively friend. Jennie came +in, twirling the rim of her hat, and looking quite gratified by this +mark of friendship in Dotty. + +"Going to have your picture taken, Dotty Dimple? Well, so I would if I +was as pretty as you are. O, dear" (with a sly peep at the glass), "I +wish I wasn't so homely." + +Now Jennie was a handsome child, and knew it well; but Dotty took her +wail in earnest. "Why, Jennie," said she, with ready sympathy, "I +don't think you're so _very_ homely; not half so homely, any way, as +some of the girls at Portland." + +Jennie frowned and bit her thumb. Prudy smiled "behind her mouth," but +Dotty was serenely unconscious that she had given offence. By this +time the artist was ready, and thought it best to try Flyaway first; +for he had had enough experience with children to see at a glance that +this one would be as difficult to "take" as a bird on the wing. Prudy +made sure the wheelbarrow was safe, and then turned to arrange her +little cousin. + +"Here, put your hands down in your lap." + +Up went the little hands to the flossy hair. "It won't stay, Prudy, +_or nelse_ you tie it." + +"I shall brush it, the very last minute, Flyaway. All you must do is +sit still. Mayn't she look at your watch, sir, just to keep her eyes +from moving?" + +"No matter what she looks at," replied the artist; "but she must keep +that little head of hers straight." + +His tone was firm; he hoped to awe her into quietness. Flyaway was +frightened, and clung to Prudy for protection. "Don't the gemplum love +little gee--urls?" said she, in a voice as low and sad as a dying +dove's. + +Mr. Poindexter laughed, and stroked the beautiful floss lovingly. + +"Just turn your sweet little face this way, dear child; that's all." + +"O, my shole! Must I turn my face to my back!" said Flyaway, +bewildered. + +"No, no; look at this picture on the wall. See what it is, so you can +tell your mother." + +"It's a bridge, and a man, and a fish," said Flyaway, flashing a +glance at it. + +"There, smooth your forehead; now you will do." And so she did, for +two seconds, till she began to squint, to see whether it was a fish or +a dog; and that picture was spoiled. + +Next time she tried so very hard to sit still that she swayed to and +fro like a slender-stemmed flower when the wind goes over it. The +picture was blurred. + +"O, Fly, you must keep your shoulders still," said Prudy, looking as +anxious as the old woman in the shoe. + +"I didn't never want to come here," said the child; "when I sit so +still, Prudy, it 'most gives me a pain." + +"But you haven't sat still yet, not a minute." + +"I could, you know, Prudy, _or nelse_ I didn't have to breeve," +groaned Flyaway, lifting her eyebrows. + +"Another one spoiled," said the artist, trying to smile. + +"Yes," said Dotty, who felt none of the care. "Once it was her head, +and then it was her shoulders; and now her eyebrows are all of a +quirk." + +Poor little Flyaway felt as much out of place as a grape-vine would +feel, if it had to make believe it was a pine tree. + +"Wisht I'd said 'no,' 'stead o' 'yes,'" murmured she, puckering her +mouth to the size of a very small button-hole. + +"This will never do," said the patient artist, almost in despair. +"Hold your little chin up, there's a lady. Don't put it in your neck. +Now! Ready!" + +But at the critical moment there was a jerk, and Flyaway cried out,-- + +"I've got a sneeze; but, O, dear, I can't sneeze it." + +"Why, where's that head of yours, little Tot? I declare, I believe it +goes on wires, like a jumping-jack." + +"My head's wrong side up," said Flyaway, mournfully; "my mother said +it was." + +Mr. Poindexter laughed: it was impossible to be vexed with such a +gentle child as Flyaway. "Really, my young friends," said he, rubbing +his stained fingers through his hair, "I believe I shall be obliged to +give it up for the present. Have the child's mother come with her +to-morrow, and we'll do better, I am sure." + +With the likenesses of the other girls he succeeded very well; and +Prudy and Dotty were glad to find, that after paying for theirs, they +each had ten cents left. + +"Now, Fly, we will go to aunt Martha's." + +But Fly was amusing herself by scraping dirt out of the cracks of her +boots with a bit of glass. + +"Dotty won't be to aunt Marfie's. I don't want to stay where Dotty +isn't." + +"But your mamma will be there, you know; and I told you what they are +going to have for dinner." + +"Yes, _secretary_," said Flyaway, proud of her memory. "She is a very +nice _cooker_, but you'll have hard work to get me to go." + +She drawled out the words languidly, and seemed on the point of going +to sleep. + +"O, girls, girls, girls," cried Prudy, opening the door and looking +out, "our wheelbarrow is gone--it's gone!" + +"It's bugglers; I told you so," said Dotty. + +Mr. Poindexter was quite amused by his little sitters. "I saw that you +came in a coach," said he, "and without any horses." + +"Our grandmother said we might," spoke up Dotty, anxious to divert all +blame from herself. "She said we might; but Prudy ought to have gone +straight home. I knew it all the time." + +"I dare say some one has driven off your carriage in sport," said the +kind-hearted photographer; "never fear." + +"O, no, sir; it was new and red. Folks wanted it to haul stones in, +and that was why they took it," said Dotty, wrathfully. + +The children looked up street and down street. No wheelbarrow in +sight. "We must go to aunt Martha's, and then come back and hunt for +it, if we have to go without our dinners," they said. They took +Flyaway between them, and marched her off. She was almost as passive +as a rag baby, ready to drop down anywhere, and fall asleep. "'Cause I +_am_ so tired," said she. + +Aunt Martha cordially invited the two cousins to dine. They thanked +her, but no, they must find the wheelbarrow. "We shan't say, certain +positive, that bugglers took it, but we s'pose so," said Dotty, +softening her judgment, as she remembered her mistake about the +"screw-up pencil." They went home through the broiling sun, but found +no trace of the wheelbarrow. + +"It's a dreadful thing," said Prudy, lazily, "but I don't feel as bad +as I should if I was fairly awake." + +"Me, too," yawned Dotty; "I wish we could lie down under the trees, +and go to sleep." + +They had been a long while in the close saloon, inhaling ether, and +this was the cause of their languor. As they entered the yard they met +Horace. + +"O, dear," said Dotty, trying to look as sorry as she knew she ought +to feel, "that wheel--" + +"What!" exclaimed Prudy. + +There, under a syringa tree in the garden, stood the wheelbarrow. The +girls rubbed their eyes, and wondered if they were walking in their +sleep. + +"That thing trundled itself in here about half an hour ago," said +Horace, gravely. "You may know I was surprised to look up, and see it +coming without hands, just rolling along like a velocipede." + +Dotty eyed the runaway wheelbarrow stupidly. "I don't believe it," +said she, flatly. + +Horace laughed; and then the fog cleared away from Dotty's mind in a +minute. + +"Why, girls," said he, "how long did you think I could wait to haul +off my weeds? You were gone two hours. I watched you on your parade, +and followed at a respectful distance." + +"There, Horace Clifford!" + +"In order not to disturb the procession. Then, when I saw you going +into the saloon, I went up and claimed my wheelbarrow. Didn't want it +any longer--did you?" + +"No, and never want it again," said Prudy. + +"By the way, here's a conundrum for you, girls, Why's a wheelbarrow +like a potato?" + +"I shouldn't think it was like it at all," answered Dotty. "Where did +you read that?" + +"Didn't read it anywhere. I've given up books since I undertook +gardening. Never was much of a bookworm. Make a very respectable +_earth-worm_; ask aunt Louise if I don't." + +The little girls entered the house, too tired and sleepy to make any +reply. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +WAKING. + + +Flyaway was very much sleepier than either of her cousins, and really +did not know where she was, or what she was doing. Lonnie Adams, a boy +of Horace's age, tried to interest her. He made believe the old cat +was a sheep, killed her with an iron spoon, and hung her up by the +hind legs for mutton, all which Pussy bore like a lamb, for she had +been killed a great many times, and was used to it. But it did not +please Flyaway; neither did aunt Martha's collection of shells and +pictures call forth a single smile. There was a beautiful clock in +the parlor, and the pendulum was in the form of a little boy swinging; +but Flyaway would not have cared if it had been a gallows, and the boy +hanging there dead. + +Uncle John took her on his knee, asked her what her name was, where +she lived, and whom she loved best; but she only answered she "didn't +know." She might have been Daniel in the lions' den, or Joseph in the +pit, for all the difference to her. + +"How very singular!" said aunt Martha. "I wish her mother would come. +Do feel her pulse, John, and see if it is fever." + +"Nothing of the kind," said uncle John, as the little one's head +dropped on his shoulder. "Overcome by the heat; that's all. I'll just +lay her down on the sofa." + +When Mrs. Clifford came, she was surprised to find the child fast +asleep. She would not have her wakened for dinner; so Flyaway missed +her "secretary." But when it was three o'clock, and she still slept, +Mrs. Clifford feared something was wrong, and decided to take her +home. Uncle John had "Lightning Dodger" harnessed, and brought around +to the door. + +"Wake up, little daughter," said Mrs. Clifford; "we are going home +now." + +Flyaway looked around vacantly, her eyes as heavy as drenched violets. + +"You must come again, and stay longer," said aunt Martha; "it is +hardly polite not to let little girls have their dinners--do you think +it is?" + +"Yes 'm," replied Flyaway, faintly. She did not understand a word any +one said; it all sounded as indistinct as the roaring of a sea-shell. +By the time she was lifted into her mother's arms in the carriage, +she was nodding again. When they reached home she scarcely spoke, +but, dropping upon the sofa, went on with her dreams. It was odd for +Flyaway to take a nap in the daytime, and such a long one as this! + +"It must be a very warm day," said Mrs. Parlin, "for Prudy and Dotty +have been asleep too." + +"Where did they go after they sold the rags?" asked Mrs. Clifford; +"they all look pale." + +"To a photograph saloon. Here are the tin-types they brought home to +me," replied grandma, producing them from her pocket, with a gratified +smile. + +"Very good, mother--don't you think so? I would be glad to have as +truthful a likeness of our little Katie; but she must be taken asleep. +I wonder, by the way, if there wasn't something in the air of the +saloon which made the children all so languid?" + +"Why, yes, Maria; very likely it was the ether. Now you speak of it, I +am confident it must have been the ether." + +"I knew just such an instance before," said Mrs. Clifford; "and that +is why I happened to think of it now." + +About four o'clock Flyaway came to her senses. + +"Where's the wheelbarrel?" said she, rubbing her eyes. + +"O, Horace came and took it," said Dotty. "Hasn't this been the +queerest day!" + +"You said you's goin' to take me to aunt Marfie's; why didn't you?" + +"O, we did; we took you, you know." + +"Dotty Dimpul, I shouldn't think you'd make any believe." + +"I'm not 'making any believe'--am I, Prudy?" + +"No, Fly, she isn't. We pulled you along,--don't you remember?--and +you hung back, and said, 'I _am_ so tired.'" + +"I don't 'member," said Flyaway, slowly and sadly. "I shouldn't think +_you'd_ make any believe, Prudy." + +"We'll ask your mamma, then; she tells the truth. Aunt 'Riah, didn't +we take Flyaway to aunt Martha's this morning, and didn't you go there +too?" + +"Certainly," said Mrs. Clifford; "but it wasn't much of a visit,--was +it, darling!--when you slept most of the time, and didn't have a +mouthful of dinner?" + +Flyaway sighed heavily, and looked at her mother. "O, mamma! mamma!" + +"What is it, dear?" + +"O, mamma," repeated she, sorrowfully, "why did you say those words?" + +"What words, darling?" + +"Those naughty, naughty words, mamma." Flyaway's gentle eyes were +afloat. She crossed the room, and knelt by Mrs. Clifford's chair, +looking up at her with an expression of anguish. + +"That man, he wasn't in the lions' den, that prayed so long and so +loud, mamma." + +"Well, dear." + +"_He_ telled a wrong story to me, mamma." + +"My darling baby," said Mrs. Clifford, catching Flyaway in her arms, +"do you think your own dear mother is telling you a wrong story this +minute?" + +"'Cause, 'cause, mamma, I didn't go to aunt Marfie's!" + +"Yes, you did, my precious daughter; but you were asleep and dreaming. +We brought you home in the carriage, and you didn't know it. Can't you +believe it because I say so?" + +Flyaway made no reply except to curl her head under Mrs. Clifford's +arm, like a frightened chicken under its mother's wing. Mrs. Clifford +looked troubled. She was afraid the little one could not be made to +understand it. Horace came to her aid. + +"Hold up your head, little Topknot, and hear brother talk. Once there +were three little girls, and they all travelled round with a +wheelbarrow. By and by they came to a man's house on wheels." + +"Yes," said Flyaway, starting up; "I 'member." + +"And the wee girl, with dove's eyes--" + +"O, O, that's me!" + +"She couldn't keep still, and couldn't get any picture." + +"No, _tin-tybe_; 'cause--'cause--" + +"And all the while there was something in the man's house they kept +breathing into their noses, and it made them grow sleepy." + +"Just so?" asked Flyaway, sniffing. + +"Yes; and by and by the little one with dove's eyes was as stupid as +that woman you saw lying down in the street with the pig looking at +her." + +"Me? Was I a _drunken_?" said Flyaway, in a subdued tone. + +"O, no," put in Dotty; "it wasn't whiskey, it was _either_; and I +didn't know much more than you did, Fly Clifford. That was why I lost +your money, Prudy; I just about know it was." + +Flyaway began to understand. The look of fear and distrust went out of +her eyes, and she threw her arms round her mother's neck, kissing her +again and again. + +"_'Haps_ I did go to aunt Marfie's, mamma; _'haps_ I was asleep!" + +"That's right, Miss Topknot," cried Horace; "now your brother'll carry +you pickaback." + +A little while afterward Mrs. Clifford began a letter to her husband. + +"I am going to tell papa about his little girl--that she is very +well." + +"O, no, you needn't, mamma," said Flyaway, laughing; "papa knows it. I +was well at home." + +"What shall I tell him, then?" + +Flyaway thought a moment. + +"Tell him all the folks doesn't tell lies," said she, earnestly; "only +but the naughty folks tells lies." + +So that was settled; and Flyaway decided to write off the whole story, +and send to her father--a mixture of little sharp zigzags, curves, and +dots. When Horace asked her what these meant, she said "she couldn't +'member now; but papa would know." + +There was another matter which troubled grandma Parlin somewhat. Dotty +had gone to the store, after dinner, with two ten-cent pieces in her +porte-monnaie. She had bought for herself some jujube paste, but in +returning had lost the other dime. + +"Grandma, do you think that is fair?" said Prudy. "She has lost my +money, but she doesn't care at all; only laughs. I was going to put it +with some more I had, and buy mother a collar." + +"No, it is not right," replied grandma. "I will talk with her, and try +to make her willing to give you some of hers in return." + +Ah, grandma Parlin, you little knew what you were undertaking when you +called Dotty Dimple into the back parlor next morning, and began to +talk about that money! Children's minds are strange things. They are +like bottles with very small necks; and when you pour in an idea, you +must pour very slowly, a drop at a time, or it all runs over. Dotty +did not know much more about money than Flyaway. + +"My child," said her grandmother, "it seems you have lost something +which belonged to Prudy." + +Dotty looked up carelessly from the picture of a rose she held in her +hand, which she meant to adorn with yellow paint. + +"O, yes 'm; you mean that money." + +"There are several things you don't know, Dotty; and one is, that you +have no right to lose other people's things." + +"No 'm." + +"The money you dropped out of your porte-monnaie, yesterday, was +Prudy's, not yours; and what are you going to do about it?" + +"Let me see; my mother'll come to-morrow; I'll ask her to give me some +more." + +"But is that right? Dotty lost the money; must not Dotty be the one to +give it back?" + +"O, grandma, I can't find it! The wind blew it away, or a horse +stepped on it. I can't find it, certainly." + +"No; but you have money of your own. You can give some of that to +Prudy." + +"Why-ee!" moaned Dotty. "Prudy's got ever so much. O, grandma, she +has; and my box is so empty it can't but just jingle." + +"But, my dear, that has nothing to do with the case. If Prudy has a +great deal of money, you have no right to lose any of it. Don't you +think you ought to give it back?" + +"O, no, grandma--I don't; because she doesn't need it! I wish she'd +give _me_ ten cents, for I do need it; I haven't but a tinty, tonty +mite." + +Here Dotty threw herself on the sofa, the picture of despair. Grandma +was perplexed. Had she been pouring ideas into Dotty's mind too fast? +What should she say next? + +"My dear little girl, suppose Prudy should lose some of your +money--what then?" + +"I shouldn't like it at all, grandma. Don't let her go to my box--will +you?" + +"Selfish little girl!" said grandma, looking keenly at Dotty's +troubled face. "You would expect Prudy to return every cent, if she +were in your place." + +"Because--because--grandma--" + +"Yes; and when I explain your duty to you, you don't understand me. +You would understand if you were not so selfish!" + +Dotty winced. + +"Don't come to me again, and complain of Jennie Vance." + +Dotty could not meet her grandmother's searching gaze: it seemed to +cut into her heart like a sharp blade. + +"Am I as bad as Jennie Vance? Yes, just us bad; and grandma knows it. +But then," said she aloud, though very faintly, "Prudy needn't have +put it in my porte-monnaie; she might have known I'd lose it." + +"Dotty, I am not going to say any more about it now. You may think it +over to-day, and decide for yourself whether you are following the +Golden Rule. Or, if you choose, you may wait and talk with your +mother." + +"Yes 'm." Dotty was glad to escape into the kitchen. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +AUNT POLLY'S STORY. + + +Flyaway sat on the kitchen floor, feeding Dinah with a roasted apple. +As often as Dinah refused a teaspoonful, she put it into her own +mouth, saying, with a wise nod, "My child, she's sick; hasn't any +_appletite_." + +Out of doors it was raining heartily. It seemed as if the "upper deep" +was tipping over, and pouring itself into the lap of the earth. + +"O, Ruthie," sighed Dotty Dimple, "my mother won't come while it's +such weather. Do you s'pose 'twill ever clear off?" [Blank Page] + +[Illustration: FLYAWAY AND DINAH.] + +"Yes, I do," replied Ruth, trimming a pie briskly; "it only began last +night at five." + +"Why, Ruthie Dillon! it began three weeks ago, by the clock! Don't you +know that day I couldn't go visiting? Only sometimes it stops a while, +and then begins again." + +"If you're going to have the blues, Miss Dotty, I'll thank you kindly +just to take yourself out of this kitchen. Polly Whiting is here, and +she is as much as a body can endures in this dull weather." + +"It's pitiful 'bout the rain, Dotty; but you mustn't scold when God +sended it," said Flyaway, dropping the feeble Dinah, and pursuing her +cousin round the room with a pin. In a minute they were both laughing +gayly, till Flyaway caught herself on her little rocking-chair, and +"got a _torn_ in her apron." That ended the sport. + +"What shall I do to make myself happy?" said Dotty, musingly; for she +wished to put off all thought of Prudy's money. "I should like to roll +out some thimble-cookies, but Ruthie hasn't much patience this +morning. I never dare do things when her lips are squeezed together +so." + +But Flyaway dared do things. She took up the kitty, and played to her +on the "music," till Ruth's ears were "on edge." After this the +harmonica fell into a dish of soft soap, and in cleaning it with ashes +and a sponge, the holes became stopped. + +"It won't _muse_ no more," said Flyaway, in sad surprise, blowing into +the keys in vain. Ruth loved the little child too well to say she was +glad of it. + +Flyaway's next dash was into the sink cupboard, where she found a +wooden bowl of sand. This she dragged out, and filling her "nipperkin" +with water, carried them both to Ruth, saying, in her sweet, pleading +way,-- + +"_If_ you please, Ruthie, will you tell _how_ God does when he takes +the 'little drops of water and little grains of sand,' and makes 'the +mighty _oshum_' with um, '_and_ the pleasant land'?" + +Ruthie had no answer but a kiss and a smile. + +"There, away with you into the nursery, both of you. I know Polly +Whiting is lonesome without you." + +Off went the children, Flyaway "with a heart for any fate," but Dotty +still oppressed by the shadow of the ten-cent piece. + +"If I don't give it to Prudy, will I be dishonest? Will I be as bad +as Jennie Vance?" + +When they entered the nursery, Miss Polly was standing before the +mirror, arranging her black cap, and weaving into her collar a square +black breast-pin, which aunt Louise said looked like a gravestone. +Flyaway peeped in too, placing her smooth pink cheek beside Miss +Polly's wrinkled one. + +"I don't look alike, Miss Polly," said she; "and you don't look alike +too." + +Certainly not; no more alike than a blush-rose bud and a dried apple. + +"What makes the red go out of folks' cheeks when they grow old, and +the wrinkles crease in, like the pork in baked beans?" queried Dotty. + +"I couldn't tell you," replied the good lady, giving a pat to her cap, +and settling the bows carefully; "but if you had asked how I happened +to grow old before my time, I should say I'd had such a hard chance +through life, and trouble always leaves its mark." + +"Does it? O, dear! I have trouble,--ever so much; will it quirk my +face all up, like yours?" + +"You have trouble, Dotty Parlin? Haven't you found out yet that the +lines have fallen to you in pleasant places?" + +"I don't know what you mean by lines," said Dotty, thinking of +fish-hooks; "but when it rains, and folks want me to do things that +are real hard, then why, I'm blue, now truly." + +"Then we're blue, now truly," added Flyaway by way of finish. + +"What would you do, children, if you were driven about, as I used to +be, from post to pillar, with no mother to care for you?" + +"If I hadn't no mamma, I could go barefoot, like a dog," said Flyaway, +brightening with the new idea; "I could paddle in the water too, and +eat pepnits." + +"O, child! But what if you had neither father nor mother?" + +"Then," said Flyaway coolly, "I should go to some house where there +_was_ a father'n mother." + +"Why, you little heartless thing! But that is always the way with +children; their parents set their lives by them, but not a 'thank you' +do they get for their love! Try a pinch," continued she, offering her +snuff-box to the little folks, who both declined. This Polly thought +was strange. They must like snuff if they followed the natural bent of +their noses. + +"Yes, Katie, as I was saying, you little know how your mother loves +you." + +"Yes um, I do. She loves me more 'n the river, and the sky, and the +bridge. My papa loves me too, only but he don't _say_ nuffin' 'bout +it." + +"Yes, yes; just so," said Miss Polly, who talked to the simplest +infants just as she did to grown people. "One of these days you will +look back, and see how happy you are now, and be sorry you didn't +prize your parents while you had them." + +Flyaway rested her rosy cheek on Polly's knee, and watched the gray +knitting-work as it came out of the basket. She did not understand the +sad woman's words, but was attracted by her loving nature, and liked +to sit near her, a minute at a time, and have her hair stroked. + +"There, now," said Dotty, "you are knitting, Miss Polly; and it's so +lonesome all round the house, with mother not coming till to-morrow, +that I should think you might tell--well, tell an anecdote." + +"I don't know where to begin, or what to say," replied Polly, falling +into deep thought. + +"I just believe she does sigh at the end of every needle," mused +Dotty; "I'm going to keep 'count. That's once." + +"Please, Miss Polly, tell a _nanny-goat_," said Flyaway, dancing +around the room. "Please, Miss Polly, and I'll kiss you a pretty +little kiss." + +"Twice," whispered Dotty. + +"Well, I'll tell you something that will pass for an anecdote, on +condition that you call me _aunt_ Polly; that name warms my heart a +great deal better than _Miss_ Polly." + +"Three!" said Dotty aloud. "We will, honestly, if we can think of it, +aunt Polly.--Four." + +"Le'me gwout for the sidders, first," said busy Flyaway. + +"There, aunt Polly, you forgot it that time! You sprang up quick to +shut the door, and forgot it." + +"Forgot what?" + +"You didn't sigh at the end of your needle." + +"Why, Dotty, how you do talk! Any one would suppose, by that, I was in +the habit of sighing! I have a stitch in my side, child, and it makes +me draw a long breath now and then; that's all." + +Flyaway was back again, + + "With step-step light, and tip-tap slight + Against the door." + +"Come in," said Dotty, "and see if you can keep still two whole +minutes; but I know you can't." + +Miss Polly let her work fall in her lap, and drew up the left sleeve +of her black alpaca dress. "Do you see that scar, children?" + +It was just below the elbow,--an irregular, purple mark, about the +size of a new cent. + +"Why, Miss--why, aunt Polly!" + +"I've got one on me too," said Flyaway, pulling at her apron sleeve; +"Hollis did it with the tongs." + +"It can't be; not a scar like mine." + +"Bigger 'n' larger 'n' yours; only but I can't find it," said Flyaway, +carefully twisting around her dainty white arm, which Polly kissed, +and said was as sweet as a peach. "Bigger 'n' larger 'n' yours. Where's +it gone to? O, I feegot--'twas on my _sleeve_, and I never put it on +to-day." + +"You're a droll child, not to know the difference between scars and +dirt! When I was almost as young and quite as innocent, that wicked +little boy bit me, and I shall carry the marks of his teeth to my +grave." With another lingering glance at the purple mark, Polly drew +down her sleeve, sighed, and began to knit again. + +"Was it the woman's child that made you dig, that you told about last +summer?" + +"Yes; I was a bound girl." + +"Bound to what?" Dotty was trying to drown the remembrance of Prudy's +ten cents; so she wished to keep Miss Polly talking. + +"Bound to Mrs. Potter till I was eighteen years old. Her husband kept +public house. They made a perfect slave of me. When I was twelve +years old I had to milk three cows, besides spinning my day's work on +the flax-wheel. And very often all I had for supper was brown bread +and skim milk. I didn't have any grandfather's house to go to, with a +seat in the trees, and a boat on the water, and a swing, and a summer +house, and a _crocky-set_ (croquet set). Not I!" + +Flyaway was cutting paper dolls with all speed, but her sweet little +face was drawn into curves of pity. + +"Too bad! Naughty folks to give you _skilmick_." + +"I had to scour all the knives too. I did it by drawing them back and +forth into a sand-bank back of the house. This Isaac I speak of was a +lazy boy, and very unkind to me; but his mother wouldn't hear a word +against him. One day I brushed a traveller's coat, and got a silver +quarter for my trouble. I thought everything of that quarter. I had +never had so much money before in my life. I had half a mind to put it +in the Savings Bank; 'and who knows,' thought I, 'but I can add more +to it, one of these days, and buy my time.'" + +"Why, Miss Polly, I didn't know you could _buy_ time!" + +"But you knew you could throw it away, I suppose," said Polly, with a +sad smile. "What I mean is this: I wanted to pay Mrs. Potter some +money, so I could go free before I was eighteen." + +"Then you would be _unbound_, aunt Polly." + +"Yes; but one day Isaac found my money,--I kept it in an old +tobacco-box,--and, just to hector me, he kept tossing it up in the +air, till all of a sudden it fell through a crack in the floor; and +that was the last I saw of it." + +[Illustration: "HERE HE IS!"] + +"What a naughty, careless boy!" + +After Dotty had said this, she blushed. + +"Naughty, careless boy!" echoed Flyaway. "Here he is!" holding up a +paper doll shaped very much like a whale, with the fin divided for +legs, the ears of a cat, and the arms of a windmill. "Here he is!" + +"He didn't look much like that," said Polly, laughing. "He had plenty +of money of his own, and I tried to make him give me back a quarter; +but do you believe he wouldn't, not even a ninepence? And when I +teased him, that was the time he bit my arm." + +"He oughtn't to bitted your arm, course, indeed not!" + +"But, aunt Polly," faltered Dotty, whose efforts to forget the +ten-cent piece had proved worse than useless, "but it didn't do Isaac +any good to lose your money down a crack." + +"No, it was sheer mischief." + +"And if it doesn't do folks any good to lose things, you know, why, +what's the use--to--to--go and get his own money to pay it back +with?--Isaac I mean." + +"What do you say, Dotty Parlin? You, a child that goes to Sabbath +school! Don't you know it is a sin to steal a pin? And if we lose or +injure other people's things, and don't make it up to them, we're as +good as thieves." + +"As good?" + +"As bad, then." + +"But s'posin'--s'posin' folks lose things when they _don't_ toss 'em +up in the air, and don't mean to,--the wind, you know, or a kind of an +accident, Miss Polly,--" + +"Well?" + +"And s'posin' I didn't have any more money 'n I wanted myself, and +Prudy had the most--H'm--" + +"Well?" + +"Then it isn't as bad as thieves; now is it? She's got the most. +Prudy's older 'n I am--" + +"Honesty is honesty," said Miss Polly, firmly, "in young or old. If +you've lost your sister's money, you must make it up to her." + +"O, must I, Miss Polly? Such a tinty-tonty mite of money as I've +got,--only sixty-five cents." + +"Honesty is honesty," repeated Miss Polly, "in rich or poor." + +"Dear me! will my mother say so, too?" + +"Your mother is on the right side, Dotty. The Bible tells us to 'deal +justly.' There's nothing said there about excusing poor folks." + +"O, dear! do you s'pose the Bible expects me to pay Prudy Parlin ten +cents, when it just blew out of my hands, and didn't do me a speck of +good?" + +"Why, Dotty, you surprise me! Any one would think you were brought up +a heathen! If you were a small child I could understand it." + +"I knew I should have to do it," moaned Dotty. + +"I advise you to lose no time about it, then; that is the cause of +your blues, I guess. We can't be happy out of the line of our duty," +sighed Miss Polly, who regarded herself as a pattern of cheerfulness. + +"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," said Dotty, resolutely; "I'm +going right off to pay that money to Prudy, and then I'll be in the +line of my duty." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +FULL NIPPERKIN. + + +Prudy scorned to take the ten cents. "Did you think your 'middle-aged' +sister would do such a thing, when she has more money than you have, +Dotty Dimple? If you're only sorry, that's all I ask. I didn't like to +have you laugh, as if you didn't care." + +"But, Prudy, I want to be honest." + +"And so you have been, dear child," said grandma Parlin, with an +approving smile. "If Prudy chooses now to give you the money, receive +it as a present, and say, 'Thank you.'" + +"O, thank you, Prudy Parlin, over and over, and up to the moon," cried +Dotty, throwing her arms around her kind sister's neck. "I'll never +lose anything of yours again; no, never, never!" + +This lesson was laid away on a shelf in Dotty's memory. Close beside +it was another lesson, still more wholesome. + +"Dotty Dimple isn't the best girl that ever lived. She had to be +talked to and talked to, before she was willing to do right. She isn't +any better than Jennie Vance, after all. Why did she pray that naughty +prayer, just to make Jennie feel bad? God must have thought it was +very strange!" + +Grandma saw that Dotty's "blues" were dissolving like a morning mist; +still she knew the child was in need of patchwork, and told her so. + +"Let us all take our work," said she, "and sit together in the +nursery, so we may forget the dull weather." + +Grace brought her piqué apron down stairs to make, Susy her tatting, +Prudy a handkerchief, Dotty a square of patchwork, while Flyaway +danced about for a needle and thread. + +"What a happy group!" said Mrs. Clifford, looking up from her sewing. +She had forgotten Polly Whiting, who was mournfully toeing off a sock +for Horace, while he sat on the floor, at her feet, mending her +double-covered basket. + +"Why, Katie, darling," said Grace, "what are you doing with that +beautiful ribbon?" + +"Aunt Louise said I might make a bag, Gracie--" + +"Seems to me aunt Louise lets you do everything; I shouldn't want you +to spoil that ribbon." + +"They shan't bother my little Topknot," said Horace, with a sweep of +his thumb. "She is going to have all my clothes to make bags of, when +she grows up." + +Flyaway, who knew she had a good right to the ribbon, pressed her +eyelids together slowly. + +"If I's Gracie," said she, severely, "I'd make aprons; if I's mamma +I'd sew dresses; if I's Flywer, I'd do just's I want to." + +And then she went on sewing; without any thimble. + +"Girls, have you guessed yet why a wheelbarrow is like a potato?" + +"No, Horace; why is it?" + +"O, I was in hopes you could tell. I don't know, I am sure. It is as +much as I can do to make up a conundrum, without finding out the +answer." + +The children laughed at this, but none of them so loud as Flyaway, +who thought her brother the wisest, wittiest, and noblest specimen of +boyhood that ever lived. + +"How our needles do fly!" said Dotty, merrily. + +She was a neat and swift little seamstress, even superior to Prudy. + +"See," said Flyaway to Horace; "I work faster 'n my mamma, 'cause she's +got a big dress to work on: of course she can't sew so quick as I can +on a little bag." + +"Prudy can sew better and faster than I can," said Dotty, with a +sudden gush of humility. + +"Why, Dotty Dimple, I don't think so," returned Prudy, quite +surprised. + +"Neither do I," said aunt Maria; "I am afraid our little Dotty is +hardly sincere." + +Dotty's head drooped a little. "I know it, auntie; I do sew the +nicest; but I was afraid it wouldn't be polite if I told it just as it +was, and Prudy so good to me, too." + +"If she is good, is that any reason why you should tell her a wrong +story?" remarked the plain-spoken Susy, giving a twitch to her +tatting-thread. + +"Children," said Mrs. Clifford, laughing, "do you remember those +hideous green goggles I wore a year ago?" + +"O, yes 'm," replied Grace; "they made your eyes stick out so! Why, +you looked like a frog, ma', more than anything else." + +"Well, a certain lady of my acquaintance was so polite as to tell me +my goggles were very becoming." + +"O, ma, who could it have been?" + +"I prefer not to give you her name. I appreciated her kind wish to +please me, but I could not think her sincere." + +"O, Susy," said Grace, "if you could have seen those goggles! A little +basket for each eye, made of green wire, like a fly cover! Ma, did you +ever believe a word that lady said afterwards?" + +"Flatterers are not generally to be trusted," replied Mrs. Clifford. +"Flyaway, that is the fourth needle you have lost." + +Here was another lesson for Dotty's memory-shelf. "I must not say +things that are not true, just to be polite. It is flattering and +wicked; and besides that, people always know better." + +It was a quiet, busy, cheerful day. Dotty forgot to complain of the +weather. Just before supper Flyaway jumped down from her grandpapa's +knee, where she had been talking to him through his "conversation-tube," +and ran to the window. + +"Why, 'tisn't raining," cried she; "true's I'm walking on this floor +'tisn't raining!" + +Dotty clapped her hands, and watched the sun coming out like pure +gold, and turning the dark clouds into silver. + +"We were patient and willing for it to rain," said she; "but of course +that wasn't why it cleared off." + +And it wasn't why Flyaway lost her thumb-nail, either. She lost +that--or half of it--in the crack of the door. The poor little thumb +was very painful, and had to be put in a cot. + +"It wearies me," said Flyaway; "it makes me afraid I shan't ever have +a nail on there again." + +Her mother assured her she would. The same God who calls up the little +blades of grass out of the ground could make a finger-nail grow. + +"Will He?" said Flyaway, smiling through tears; "but 'haps He'll +forget how it looks. Musn't I save a piece of my nail, mamma, and lay +it up on the shelf, so He can see it, and make the other one like it?" + +Mrs. Clifford put the nail in her jewel-box, and I dare say it may be +there to this day. + +Just as Flyaway, in her nightie, was having a frolic with Grace, there +was a sound of wheels. The stage, which Horace called the "Oriole" +because it had a yellow breast, was rolling into the yard. + +"It's my mother--my mother," cried the three Parlins together. + +Yes, and who was that little girl getting down just after her? Her hat +covered her eyes. "It isn't Tate Penny!" Why, to be sure it was! There +was her dimpled chin; and if that wasn't proof enough, there was the +wart on her thumb! + +To think such a glorious thing as this could happen to Dotty! and she +not the best girl in the world either! A visit from her bosom friend! +"Aunt 'Ria, do you understand? Aunt Louise? Gracie? This is _Tate +Penny_!" + +"Who asked her to come? How did she happen to be with mamma, the same +day, in the same cars?" + +Well, grandma Parlin invited her to come. "When one lives in an +India-rubber house," she said, "a few people more or less make no +difference at all. She wished Dotty's 'nipperkin' of happiness to be +full for once." + +And it was: it ran over. There were joyful days for the next +fortnight. I could never draw the picture of them with my pen, even if +I had the paper left to put it on. They kept house under the trees; +they baked their food in a brick oven Horace made; they gave a party; +they had boat rides; they had swings; they never went into the house +unless it rained; they were never cross to one another, or rude to +Jennie Vance; it was like living in fairy-land. + +It was a glorious summer. I almost wish it had not come to an end; +though, in that case, I suppose I should never have stopped telling +about it. By and by vacation was over, and Tate went off in the same +stage with the Parlins. You could never guess what she and Dotty each +put so carefully into their bosoms, to keep "forever." It was a +splinter of the dear old barn where they had had such good times +jumping! + +Three weeks afterwards the "Oriole" drove up to grandpapa Parlin's +again, and this time for the Cliffords. Flyaway danced into it like a +piece of thistle-down. Everybody threw good-by kisses, and the stage +rattled away. + +And after that, dears, as Flyaway will say to her grandchildren, +"things went into a mist." And this is all I have to tell you about +the Parlins, the Cliffords, and the Willowbrook home. + + +THE END. + + * * * * * + + + + +DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES. + +To be completed in six vols. Handsomely Illustrated. +Each vol., 75 cts. + + +1. DOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER'S. +2. DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME. +3. DOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST. +4. DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. +5. DOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL. +6. DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY. + + +BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR. + +LITTLE PRUDY STORIES. + +Now complete. Six vols. 24mo. Handsomely Illustrated. +In a neat box. Per vol., 75 cts. Comprising + + +LITTLE PRUDY. +LITTLE PRUDY'S SISTER SUSIE. +LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE. +LITTLE PRUDY'S COUSIN GRACE. +LITTLE PRUDY'S STORY BOOK. +LITTLE PRUDY'S DOTTY DIMPLE. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dotty Dimple's Flyaway, by Sophie May + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY *** + +***** This file should be named 19247-8.txt or 19247-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/2/4/19247/ + +Produced by Sigal Alon, La Monte H.P. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dotty Dimple's Flyaway + +Author: Sophie May + +Release Date: September 11, 2006 [EBook #19247] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY *** + + + + +Produced by Sigal Alon, La Monte H.P. Yarroll, Sankar +Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="center"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" width="600" height="426" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><img class="img1" src="images/image_01.jpg" alt=""What for you look that way to me?"" width="400" height="650" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"<span class="smcap">What for you look that way to me</span>?"—Page <a href="#Page_14">14</a>.</span></p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><img class="img1" src="images/image_02.jpg" alt="Front Page" width="400" height="666" /></p> +<p> </p> + + +<h4>DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES.</h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h1>DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY.</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2>By SOPHIE MAY,</h2> + +<h4>AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES."</h4> +<p> </p> +<h5>Illustrated.</h5> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>BOSTON:<br /> + +LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.<br /> + + +NEW YORK:<br /> + +LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM.<br /> + + + + +1871. +</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + +<h3>TO THE</h3> + +<h2>LITTLE LINDSAYS.</h2> + + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + + + +<table summary="Contents"> +<tr><td class="tocch f1">CHAPTER</td><td></td><td></td><td class="tocpg f1">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">I.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Beginning to remember</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_II">.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">II.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Running away to Church</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_II">.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch"> III.</td><td> </td><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Running away to Heaven</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_III">.</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">IV.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">A Railroad Savage</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">V.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">East again</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_V">.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">VI.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The Rag-Bag</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch"> VII.</td><td> </td><td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><span class="smcap">The Wicked Girl</span>.</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">VIII.</td><td> </td><td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">"<span class="smcap">Wheelbarrowing</span>."</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">IX.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">Tin-Types</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">X.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Waking</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_X">.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">XI.</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">Aunt Polly's Story</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch"> XII.</td><td> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><span class="smcap">Full Nipperkin.</span></a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h2>DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<h4>BEGINNING TO REMEMBER.</h4> +<p>Katie Clifford was a very bright child. +She almost knew enough to keep out of +fire and water, but not quite. She looked +like other little girls, only so wise,—O, +so very wise!—that you couldn't tell her +any news about the earth, or the sun, +moon, and stars, for she knew all about +it "byfore."</p> + +<p>Her hair was soft and flying like corn-silk, +and when the wind took it you would +think it meant to blow it off like a dandelion +top. She was so light and breezy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +and so little for her age, that her father +said "they must put a cent in her pocket +to keep her from flying away;" so, after +that, the family began to call her <i>Flyaway</i>. +She thought it was her name, and +that when people said "Katie," it was a +gentle way they had of scolding.</p> + +<p>Everybody petted her. Her brother +Horace put his heart right under her feet, +and she danced over it. Her "uncle Eddard" +said "she drove round the world +in a little chariot, and all her friends were +harnessed to it, only they didn't know it."</p> + +<p>Her shoulders were very little, but they +bore a crushing weight of care. From +the time she began to talk, she took upon +herself the burden of the whole family. +When Mrs. Clifford had a headache, Flyaway +was so full of pity that nothing +could keep her from climbing upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +sufferer, stroking her face, and saying, +"O, my <i>dee</i> mamma," or perhaps breaking +the camphor bottle over her nose.</p> + +<p>She sat at table in a high chair beside +her father, and might have learned good +manners if it had not been for the care +she felt of Horace. She could scarcely +attend to her own little knife and fork, +because she was so busy watching her +brother. She wished to see for herself +that he was sitting straight, and not leaning +his elbows on the table. If he made +any mistake she cried, "Hollis!" in a +tone as sweet as a wind-harp, though she +meant it to be terribly severe, adding to +the effect by shaking the corn-silk on her +head in high displeasure. If she could +correct him she thought she had done as +much good in the family as if she had +behaved well herself. He received all re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>bukes +very meekly, with a "Thank you, +little Topknot. What would be done here +without you to preserve order?"</p> + +<p>Flyaway could remember as far back as +the beginning of the world,—that is to +say, she could remember when <i>her</i> world +began.</p> + +<p>It is strange to think of, but the first +thing she really knew for a certainty, she +was standing in a yellow chair, in her +grandmother Parlin's kitchen! It was as +if she had always been asleep till that +minute. People did say she had once +been a baby, but she could not recollect +that, "it was so <span class="smcap">many</span> years ago."</p> + +<p>Her mind, you see, had always been +as soft as a bag of feathers; and nothing +that she did, or that any one else did, +made much impression. But now something +remarkable was taking place, and +she would never forget it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was this: she was grinding coffee. +How prettily it pattered down on the floor! +What did it look like? O, like snuff, that +people sneezed with. This was housework. +Next thing they would ask her to +wash dishes and set the table. She would +grow larger and larger, and Gracie would +grow littler and littler; and O, how nice +it would be when she could do all the +work, and Gracie had to sit in mamma's +lap and be rocked!</p> + +<p>"Flywer'll do some help," said she. +"Flywer'll take 'are of g'amma's things."</p> + +<p>While she stood musing thus, with a +dreamy smile, and turning the handle of +the mill as fast as it would go round, +somebody sprang at her very unexpectedly. +It was Ruth, the kitchen-girl. She +seized Katie by the shoulders, carried her +through the air, and set her on her feet +in the sink.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There, little Mischief," said she, "you'll +stay there one while! We'll see if we +can't put a stop to this coffee-grinding! +Why, you're enough to wear out the patience +of Job!"</p> + +<p>Katie had often heard about Job; she +supposed it was something dreadful, like a +lion, or a whale. She looked up at Ruth, +and saw her black eyes flashing and the +rosy color trembling in her cheeks. Cruel +Ruth! She did not know Katie was her +best friend, working and helping get dinner +as fast as she could. "Ruthie," +sobbed she, "you didn't ask please."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, child, I'm in a hurry; and +when you set things to flying, you're +enough to wear out the patience of Job."</p> + +<p>Job again.</p> + +<p>"You've said so two times, Ruthie! +Now I don't like you tall, tenny rate."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was as harsh language as Katie +dared use; but she frowned fearfully, and +a tuft of hair, rising from her head like +a waterspout, made her look so fierce +that Ruth seemed to be frightened, and +ran away with her apron up to her face.</p> + +<p>The sink was so high that Katie could +not get out of it alone,—"course <i>indeed</i> +she couldn't."</p> + +<p>"It most makes me 'fraid," said she to +herself: "Ruthie's a big woman, I's a little +woman. When I's the biggest I'll put +Ruthie in <i>my</i> sink."</p> + +<p>Very much comforted by this resolve, +she dried her eyes and began to look +about her for more housework. "Let's +me see; I'll pump a bushel o' water."</p> + +<p>There was a pail in the sink; so, what +should she do but jump into that, and +then jerk the pump-handle up and down,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +till a fine stream poured out and sprinkled +her all over!</p> + +<p>"Sing a song, O sink-spout," sang she, +catching her breath: but presently she +began to feel cold.</p> + +<p>"O, how it makes me <i>shivvle</i>!" said +she.</p> + +<p>"Katie!" called out a voice.</p> + +<p>"Here me are!" gurgled the little one, +her mouth under the pump-nose.</p> + +<p>When Horace came in she was standing +in water up to the tops of her long white +stockings. He took her out, wrung her +a little, and set her on a shelf in the +pantry to dry.</p> + +<p>"Oho!" said she, shaking her wet plumage, +like a duckling; "what for you +look that way to me? I didn't do nuffin,—not +the leastest nuffin! The water +kep' a comin' and a comin'."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, you little naughty girl, and you +kept pumping and pumping."</p> + +<p>"I'm isn't little naughty goorl," thought +Katie, indignantly; "but Ruthie's naughty +goorl, and Hollis <i>velly</i> naughty goorl."</p> + +<p>"O, here you are, you little Hop-o'-my-thumb," +said Mrs. Clifford, coming into +the pantry; "a baby with a cough in her +throat and pills in her pocket musn't get +wet."</p> + +<p>Flyaway thrust her hand into her wet +pocket to make sure the wee vial of white +dots was still there.</p> + +<p>"I fished her out of a pail of water," +said Horace; "to-morrow I shall find her +in a bird's nest."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clifford sent for some fresh stockings +and shoes. Her baby-daughter was +so often falling into mischief that she +thought very little about it. She did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +know this was a remarkable occasion, and +the baby had to-day begun to remember. +She did not know that if Flyaway should +live to be an old lady, she would sometimes +say to her grandchildren,—</p> + +<p>"The very first thing I have any recollection +of, dears, is grinding coffee in your +great-grandmamma's kitchen at Willowbrook. +The girl, Ruth Dillon, took me +up by the shoulders, carried me through +the air, and set me in the sink, and then +I pumped water over myself."</p> + +<p>This is about the way little Flyaway +would be likely to talk, sixty years from +now, adding, as she polished her spectacles,—</p> + +<p>"And after that, children, things went +into a mist, and I don't remember anything +else that happened for some time."</p> + +<p>Why was it that things "went into a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +mist"? Why didn't she keep on remembering +every day? I don't know.</p> + +<p>But the next thing that really did happen +to Miss Thistleblow Flyaway, though +she went right off and forgot it, was this: +She persuaded her mother to write a letter +for her to "Dotty Dimpwill." As it was +her first letter, I will copy it.</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p> +"<span class="smcap">My dear Dotty Dimpwill</span> first, then <span class="smcap">My +Prudy</span>:<br /> +</p> + +<p>"I'm going to say that I dink milk, +and that girl lost my pills.</p> + +<p>"I see a hop-toad. He hopped. Jennie +took <i>her</i> up in <i>his</i> dress.</p> + +<p>"And 'bout we put hop-toad in wash-dish. +He put his foots out, <i>stwetched</i>, +honest! He was a slippy fellow. First +thing we knowed it, he hopped on to her +dress. Isn't that funny?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now 'bout the chickens; they are trottin' +round on the grass: they didn't be +dead. <i>We</i> haven't got any only but dead +ones; but Mis' Gray has.</p> + +<p>"I like Dr. Gray ever so much!</p> + +<p>"Mis' Gray gave me the kitty to play +with. I bundled it all up in my dress, +'cause I didn't want the cat to get it. +When I went home I gave it to the cat. +[You got that <i>wroten</i>?]</p> + +<p>"There wasn't any <i>dead</i> little kittens. +She gave me a cookie, and I eated it, and +I told her to give me another to bring +home, 'cause I liked her cookies; they was +curly cookies. [Got it wroted, mamma?]</p> + +<p>"Now 'bout I pumped full a pail full +o' water.</p> + +<p>"[She <i>knows</i> we've got a house?]</p> + +<p>"Now say good by, and I kiss her a +pretty little kiss. O, no; I want her to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +come and see me,—her and Prudy,—<i>two</i> +of 'em! I's here yet. ['Haps she knows +it!]</p> + +<p>"That's all—I feel sleepy.</p> + +<p class="sig2"> +(Signed) "From</p> +<p class="sig1"> +"<span class="smcap">Dotty Dimpwill to Flywer</span>."<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>This letter "went into a mist," and so +did the next performance, which you will +read in the following chapter.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>RUNNING AWAY TO CHURCH.</h3> + + +<p>The little Parlins came the next week. +One Sunday morning Dotty Dimple stood +before the glass, putting on her hat for +church. Katie came and peeped in with +her, opening her small mouth and drawing +her lips over her teeth, as her grandfather +did when he shaved.</p> + +<p>"See, Flyaway, you haven't any dimples +at all!" said Dotty, primping a little. +"Your hair isn't smooth and curly like +mine; it sticks up all over your head, +like a little fan."</p> + +<p>"O, my shole!" sighed Flyaway, scowl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>ing +at herself. She did not know how +lovely she was, nor how</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The light of the heaven she came from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still lingered and gleamed in her hair."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I wisht 'twouldn't get out," said she.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by <i>out</i>?"</p> + +<p>"O, unwetted, and un-comb-bid, and un-parted."</p> + +<p>"That's because you fly about like such +a little witch."</p> + +<p>"I doesn't do the leastest nuffin, Dotty +Dimpwill! Folks ought to let me to go +to churches."</p> + +<p>"I <i>should</i> laugh, Fly Clifford, to see <i>you</i> +going to churches! All the ministers would +come down out of the pulpits and ask +what little mischief that was, and make +aunt 'Ria carry you home!"</p> + +<p>"No, he wouldn't, too! I'd sit stiller'n<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +two, free, five hundred mouses," pleaded +Flyaway, climbing up the back of a chair +to show how quiet she could be.</p> + +<p>"O, it's no use to talk about it, darling. +Give me one kiss, and I'll go get my sun-shade."</p> + +<p>"Can't, Dotty Dimpwill! My mamma's +kiss I'll keep; it's ahind my mouf; she's +gone to 'Dusty.</p> + +<p>"Well, 'keep it ahind your mouf,' then; +and here's another to put with it. What +<i>do</i> you s'pose makes me love to kiss you +so?"</p> + +<p>"O, 'cause I so sweet," replied Flyaway, +promptly; but she was not thinking +of her own sweetness, just then; she was +wondering if she could manage to run +away to church.</p> + +<p>"I'se a-goin' there myse'f! Sit still's a—a—" +She looked around for a com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>parison, +and saw a grasshopper on the +window-sill: "still's a <i>gas-papa</i>. Man +won't say nuffin' to me, see 'f he does!"</p> + +<p>Strange such an innocent-looking child +could be so sly! She ran down the path +with Horace, kissing her little hand to +everybody for good by, all the while +thinking how she could steal off to church +without being seen.</p> + +<p>"You may go up stairs and lie down +with me on my bed," said grandma, who +was not very well. So Katie climbed upon +the bed.</p> + +<p>"My dee gamma, I so solly you's sick!" +said she, stroking Mrs. Parlin's face, and +picking open her eyelids. But after patting +and "pooring" the dear lady for some +time, she thought she had made her "all +well," and then was anxious to get away. +Mrs. Parlin wished to keep her up stairs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +as long as possible, because Ruth had a +toothache.</p> + +<p>"Shan't I tell you a story, dear?" said +she.</p> + +<p>"Yes, um; tell 'bout a long baby—no, +a long story 'bout a short baby."</p> + +<p>"Well, once there was a king, and he +had a daughter—"</p> + +<p>"O, no, gamma, not that! Tell me +'bout baby that <i>didn't</i> be on the bul-yushes; +I don't want to hear 'bout <i>Mosey</i>!"</p> + +<p>Grandma smiled, and wondered if people, +in the good old Bible days, were in +the habit of using pet names, and if Pharaoh's +daughter ever called the Hebrew +boy "Mosey." She was about to begin +another story, when Flyaway said, "Guess +I'll go out, now," and slid off the bed. +There was an orange on the table. She +took it, held it behind her, and walked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +quickly to the door. Looking back, she +saw that her grandmother was watching +her.</p> + +<p>"What you looking at, gamma? 'Cause +I'm are goin' to bring the ollinge right +back."</p> + +<p>And so she did, but not because it was +wrong to keep it. Flyaway had no conscience, +or, if she had any, it was very +small, folded up out of sight, like a leaf-bud +on a tree in the spring.</p> + +<p>"Ask Ruthie to wash your face and +hands, and then come right back to grandma +and hear the story."</p> + +<p>"Yes um."</p> + +<p>Down stairs she pattered. The moment +Ruth had kissed her, and turned +away to make a poultice, she crept into +the nursery, and put on Horace's straw hat. +Then she took from a corner an old cane<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +of her grandfather's, and from the paper-rack +a daily newspaper, and started out +in great glee. The "Journal" she hugged +to her heart, and her short dress she held +up to her waist, "'Cause I s'pect I mus' +keep it out o' the mud," said she, as anxiously +as any lady with a train.</p> + +<p>She had no trouble in finding the church, +for the road was straight, but the cane +kept tripping her up.</p> + +<p>"Naughty fing! Wisht I hadn't took +you, to-day, you act so bad!" said she, +picking herself up for the fifth time, and +slinging the "naughty fing" across her +shoulder like a gun. When she came to +the meeting-house there was not a soul to +be seen. "Guess they's eatin' dinner in +here," decided Flyaway, after looking about +for a few seconds. "Guess I'll go up +chamer, see where the folks is."</p> + +<p class="center"><img class="img1" src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Running away to Church." width="400" height="623" /><br /> +<span class="caption"> <span class="smcap">Running away to Church</span>.</span></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> +<p>Up stairs she clattered, hitting the balusters +with her cane. Good Mr. Lee was +preaching from the text, "Remember the +Sabbath day, to keep it holy," and people +could not imagine who was naughty enough +to make such a noise outside—thump, +thump, thump.</p> + +<p>"Who's that a-talkin'?" thought Flyaway, +startled by Mr. Lee's voice. "O, ho! +that's the <i>prayer-man</i> a-talkin'. He makes +me kind o' 'fraid!"</p> + +<p>But just at that minute she had reached +the top of the stairs, and was standing in +the doorway.</p> + +<p>"O, my shole! so <i>many</i> folks!"</p> + +<p>She trembled, and was about to run +away with her newspaper and cane; but +her eyes, in roving wildly about, fell upon +grandpa Parlin and all the rest of them, +in a pew very near the pulpit. Then she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +thought it must be all right, and, taking +courage, she marched slowly up the aisle, +swinging the cane right and left.</p> + +<p>Everybody looked up in surprise as the +droll little figure crept by. Grandpa +frowned through his spectacles, and aunt +Louise shook her head; but Horace hid +his face in a hymn-book and Dotty Dimple +actually smiled.</p> + +<p>"They didn't know <i>I</i> was a-comin'," +thought Flyaway, "but I camed!"</p> + +<p>And with that she fluttered into the +pew.</p> + +<p>"Naughty, naughty girl," said aunt Louise, +in an awful whisper.</p> + +<p>She longed to take up the morsel of +naughtiness, called Katie, in her thumb and +finger, shake it, and carry it out. But +there was a twinkle in the little one's eye +that might mean mischief; she did not +dare touch her.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> +<p>"O, what a child!" said aunt Louise, +taking off the big hat and setting Flyaway +down on the seat as hard as she +could.</p> + +<p>Flyaway looked up, through her veil of +flossy hair, at her pretty auntie with the +roses round her face.</p> + +<p>"Nobody didn't take 'are o' me to my +house," said she, in a loud whisper, "and +<i>that's</i> what is it!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said aunt Louise, giving Flyaway +another shake, which frightened her +so that she dropped her head on her brother's +shoulder, and sat perfectly still for +half a minute.</p> + +<p>Aunt Louise was sadly mortified, and +so were Susy and Prudy. They dared +not look up, for they thought everybody +was gazing straight at the Parlin pew, and +laughing at their crazy little relative. Hor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>ace +and Dotty Dimple did not care in +the least; they thought it very funny.</p> + +<p>"They shan't scold at my cunning little +Topknot," whispered Horace, consolingly. +"Sit still, darling, and when we get home +I'll give you a cent."</p> + +<p>"Yes um, I will," replied poor brow-beaten +Flyaway, and held up her head +again with the best of them. Perhaps she +had been naughty; perhaps folks were +going to snip her fingers; but "Hollis" +was on her side now and forever. She +began to feel quite contented. She had +got inside the church at last, and was very +well pleased with it. It was even queerer +than she had expected.</p> + +<p>"What was that high-up thing the prayer-man +was a-standin' on?"</p> + +<p>Flyaway merely asked this of her own +wise little brain. She concluded it must +be "a chimley."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Great red curtains ahind him," added +she, still conversing with her own little +brain. "Lots o' great big bubbles on the +walls all round. Big's a tea-kiddle! Lamps, +I s'pose. There's that table. Where's the +cups and saucers for the supper? And +the tea-pot?</p> + +<p>"All the bodies everywhere had their +bonnets on; why for? Didn't say a word, +and the prayer-man kep' a-talkin' all the +time; why for? Flywer didn't talk; no +indeed. Folks mus'n't. If folks did, then +the man would come down out the chimley +and tell the other bodies to carry 'em +home. 'Cause it's the holy Sabber-day,—and +<i>that's</i> what is it."</p> + +<p>Flyaway's airy brain went dancing round +and round. She slid away from Horace's +shoulder, spread her little length upon the +seat, closed her wondering, tired eyes, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +sailed off to Noddle's Island. A fly, buzzing +in from out doors, had long been trying +to settle on Flyaway's restless nose. +He never did settle: Horace kept guard +with a palm-leaf fan, and "all the other +bodies" in the pew sat as still as if they +had been nailed down; so anxious were +they to keep the little sleeper safely harbored +at Noddle's Island.</p> + +<p>"Such a relief!" thought aunt Louise, +venturing to look up once more.</p> + +<p>Flyaway did not waken till the last +prayer, when Horace held her fast, lest +she should make a sudden rush upon a +speckled dog, which came trotting up the +aisle.</p> + +<p>On the steps they met Ruth, with wild +eyes and face tied up in a scarf, hunting +for Flyaway. Mrs. Parlin, she said, was +going up the hill, so frightened that it +would make her "down sick."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p>When grandma got home, all out of +breath, she found Flyaway looking very +downcast. Her heart was heavy under so +many scoldings. "O, Katie," said grandma, +"how could you run away?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't yun away," replied Flyaway, +thrusting her finger into her mouth; "I +<i>walked</i> away!"</p> + +<p>"There, if that isn't a cunning baby, +where'll you find one?" whispered brother +Horace to Prudy. "Grandmother can't punish +her after such a 'cute speech."</p> + +<p>But grandmother could, and did. She +took her by the little soft hand, led her +to the china closet, and locked her in.</p> + +<p>"Half an hour you must stay there," +said she, "and think what a naughty girl +you've been!"</p> + +<p>"Yes um," said Flyaway, meekly, and +wiped off a tear with the hem of her frock.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the moment she was left alone, her +quick, observing eyes saw something which +gave her a thrill of delight. It was a jar +of quince jelly, which had been left by +accident on the lower shelf.</p> + +<p>"'Cause I spect I likes um," said she, +serenely, after eating all she possibly could.</p> + +<p>At the end of half an hour grandma +came and turned the key.</p> + +<p>"Have you been thinking, dear, and +are you sorry and ready to come out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, um," replied the little culprit, +with her mouth full, and feeling very brave +as long as the door was shut between her +and her jailer. "Yes, um, I've thought it +all up,—defful solly. <i>But</i> you won't +never shut me up no more, gamma Parlin!"</p> + +<p>"Katie Clifford!" said grandma, sternly; +and then she opened the door, and faced +Flyaway.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Cause—'cause—<i>'cause</i>," cried the little +one, in great alarm; "you won't shut +me up, 'cause I won't never walk away +no more, gamma Parlin!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parlin tried hard not to smile; but +the mixture on Flyaway's little face of +naughtiness, jelly, and fright, was very +funny to see.</p> + +<p>The child noticed that her grandmother's +brows knit as if in displeasure, and +then she remembered the jelly.</p> + +<p>"I hasn't been a-touchin' your 'serves, +gamma," said she.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parlin really did not know what +to do,—Flyaway's conscience was <i>so</i> little +and folded away in so many thicknesses, +like a tiny pearl in a whole box of cotton +wool. How could anybody get at it?</p> + +<p>"Gamma, I hasn't been a-touchin' your +'serves," repeated the little thief.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, don't tell me that," said grandma, +sadly; "I see it in your eye!"</p> + +<p>"What, gamma, the <i>'serves</i> in my eye?" +said Flyaway, putting up her finger to find +out for herself. "'Cause I put 'em in my +<i>mouf</i>, I did."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parlin washed the little pilferer's +face and hands, took her in her lap, and +tried to feel her way through the cotton +wool to the tiny conscience.</p> + +<p>The child looked up and listened to all +the good words, and when they had been +spoken over and over, this was what she +said:—</p> + +<p>"O, gamma, you's got such pitty little +wrinkles!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>RUNNING AWAY TO HEAVEN.</h3> + + +<p>About ten o'clock one morning, Flyaway +was sitting in the little green chamber +with Dotty Dimple and Jennie Vance, +bathing her doll's feet in a glass of water. +Dinah had a dreadful headache, and her +forehead was bandaged with a red ribbon.</p> + +<p>"<i>Does</i> you feel any better?" asked Flyaway, +tenderly, from time to time; but +Dinah had such a habit of never answering, +that it was of no use to ask her any +questions.</p> + +<p>Dotty Dimple and Jennie were talking +very earnestly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I do wish I did know where Charlie +Gray is!" said Dotty, looking through the +open window at a bird flying far aloft into +the blue sky.</p> + +<p>"You do know," answered Jennie, quickly; +"he's in heaven."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; but so high up—O, +so high up," sighed Dotty, "it makes you +dizzy to think."</p> + +<p>"Can um see we?" struck in little Flyaway, +holding to Dinah's flat nose a bottle +of reviving soap suds.</p> + +<p>"Prudy says it's beautiful to be dead," +added Dotty, without heeding the question; +"beautiful to be dead."</p> + +<p>"Shtop!" cried Flyaway; "I's a-talkin'. +Does um see <i>we</i>?"</p> + +<p>"O, I don' know, Fly Clifford; you'll +have to ask the minister."</p> + +<p>Flyaway squeezed the water from Dinah's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +ragged feet, and dropped her under the +table, headache and all. Then she tipped +over the goblet, and flew to the window.</p> + +<p>"The Charlie boy likes canny seeds; +I'll send him some," said she, pinning a +paper of sugared spices to the window curtain, +and drawing it up by means of the +tassel. "O, dear, um don't go high enough. +Charlie won't get 'em."</p> + +<p>"Why, what is that baby trying to do?" +said Dotty Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Charlie's defful high up," murmured Flyaway, +heaving a little sigh; "can't get the +canny seeds."</p> + +<p>"O, what a Fly! How big do you s'pose +her mind is, Jennie Vance?"</p> + +<p>"Big as a thimble, perhaps," replied +Jennie, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Why, I shouldn't think, now, 'twas +any larger than the head of a pin," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +Dotty, with decision; "s'poses heaven is +top o' this room! Why, Jennie Vance, I +<i>persume</i> it's ever so much further off 'n +Mount Blue—don't you?"</p> + +<p>"O, yes, indeed! What queer ideas +such children do have! Flyaway doesn't +understand but very little we say, Dotty +Dimple; not but very little."</p> + +<p>Flyaway turned round with one of her +wise looks. She thought she did understand; +at any rate she was catching every +word, and stowing it away in her little bit +of a brain for safe keeping. Heaven was +on Mount Blue. She had learned so much.</p> + +<p>"But I knowed it by-fore," said she to +herself, with a proud toss of the silky +plume on the crown of her head.</p> + +<p>"Shall we take her with us?" asked +Jennie Vance.</p> + +<p>Flyaway listened eagerly; she thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +they were still talking of heaven, when +in truth Jennie only meant a concert which +was to be given that afternoon at the +vestry.</p> + +<p>"Take <i>that</i> little snip of a child!" replied +Dotty; "O, no; she isn't big enough; +'twouldn't be any use to pay money for +<i>her!</i>"</p> + +<p>With which very cutting remark Dotty +swept out of the room, in her queenly +way, followed by Jennie. Flyaway threw +herself across a pillow, and moaned,—</p> + +<p>"O, dee, dee!"</p> + +<p>Her little heart was ready to bleed; +and this wasn't the first time, either. +Those great big girls were always running +away from her, and calling her "goosies" +and "snips;" and now they meant to climb +to heaven, where Charlie was, and leave +her behind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But I won't stay down here in this +place; I'll go to heaven too, now, <i>cerdily</i>!" +She sprang from the pillow and +stood on one foot, like a strong-minded +little robin that will not be trifled with +by a worm. "I'll go too, now, cerdily."</p> + +<p>Having made up her mind, she hurried +as fast as she could, and tucked a stick +of candy in her pocket, also the bottle of +soap suds, and two thirds of a "curly +cookie" shaped like a leaf. "Charlie would +be so glad to see Fly-wer!" She purred +like a contented kitten as she thought about +it. "'Haps they've got a <i>bossy-cat</i> up +there, and a piggy, and a swing. O, my +shole!"</p> + +<p>There was no time to be lost. Flyaway +must overtake the girls, and, if possible, +get to heaven before they did. She +flew about like a distracted butterfly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I must have some skipt; her said me's +too little to pay for money;" and she curled +her pretty red lip; "but I'm isn't much +little; man'll <i>want</i> some skipt."</p> + +<p>For she fancied somebody standing at +the door of heaven holding out his hand +like the ticket-man at the depot. She +found her mother's purse in the writing-desk, +and scattered its contents into the +wash-bowl, then picked out the wettest +"skipt," a five-dollar bill, and tucked it +into her bosom. This would make it all +right at the door of heaven.</p> + +<p>"Now my spetty-curls," she added, hunting +in the "uppest drawer" till she found +the eyeless spectacles used for playing "old +lady." With these on, Flyaway thought +she could see the way a great deal better. +Horace's boots would help her up hill; +so she jumped into those, and clattered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +down the back stairs with Dinah under +her arm.</p> + +<p>There was nobody in the kitchen, for +Ruthie was down cellar sweeping. Flyaway +caught her shaker off the "short nail," +and stole out without being seen. Sitting +in the sun on the piazza was the "blue" +kittie. "Finkin' 'bout a mouse, I spect," +said little Flyaway, seizing her and blowing +open her eyes like a couple of rosebuds.</p> + +<p>"Does you know where I's a-goin'? Up +to heaven. We don't let tinty folks, like +cats, go to heaven."</p> + +<p>Pussy winked sorrowfully at this, and +baby's tender heart was touched.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we does," said she; "but you +musn't scwatch the Charlie boy;" and she +tucked the "tinty folks" under her left +arm. Then all was ready, and the little +pilgrim started for heaven.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Um's on the toppest hill," said she, +looking at the far-off mountains, reaching +up against the blue sky. One mountain +was much higher than the others, and on +that she fixed her eye. It was Mount +Blue, and was really twenty miles away. +If Flyaway should ever reach that cloud-capped +peak, it was not her wee, wee feet +which would carry her there. But the baby +had no idea of distances. She went out +of the yard as fast as the big boots would +allow. She felt as brave as a little fly +trying to walk the whole length of the +Chinese Wall.</p> + +<p>Where were Dotty Dimple and Jennie +Vance? O, they were half way to heaven +by this time; she must "hurry quick."</p> + +<p>The fact was, they were "up in the +Pines," picking strawberries. Nobody saw +Flyaway but a caterpillar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"O, my shole! there's a <i>catty-pillow</i>—what +he want, you fink?"</p> + +<p>Kitty winked and Dinah sulked, but +there was no reply.</p> + +<p>The next thing they met was a grasshopper. +"O, dee, a <i>gas-papa</i>! Where +you s'pose um goin'?"</p> + +<p>Kitty winked again and Dinah sulked.</p> + +<p>Flyaway answered her own question. +"Diny, dat worm gone see his mamma."</p> + +<p>Dinah did not care anything about the +family feelings of the "worms;" so she +kept her red silk mouth shut; but she +grew very heavy—so heavy, indeed, that +once her little mother dropped her in the +sand, but picking her up, shook her and +trudged on. Presently she dropped something +else, and this time it was the kitty. +Flyaway turned about in dismay.</p> + +<p>"Shtop," cried she, scowling through her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +"spetty-curls," as she saw three white paws +and one blue one go tripping over the +road. "Shtop!" But the paws kept on.</p> + +<p>"O, Diny," said Flyaway, as pussy's tail +disappeared round a corner,—"O, Diny, +her don't want to go to heaven!"</p> + +<p>Then Flyaway sat down in the sand, +and pulled off one of the big boots.</p> + +<p>"Um won't walk," said she; but, before +she had time to pull off the second one, +a dog came along and frightened her so +she tried to run, though she only hopped +on one foot, and dragged the other. She +did not know what the matter was till she +fell down and the boot came off of itself, +after which she could walk very well. +What cared she that both "Hollis's" new +boots were left in the road, ready to be +crushed by wagon wheels?</p> + +<p>She kept on and kept on; but where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +was that blue hill going to? It moved +faster than she did.</p> + +<p>"Makes me povokin'," said she, giving +Dinah a shake. "Um runs away and away, +and all off!"</p> + +<p>Sometimes she remembered she was going +to heaven, and sometimes she forgot it. She +was on the way to the "Pines," and many +little flowers grew by the road-side. She +began to pick a few, but the thorns on the +raspberry bushes tore her tender hands, +and one of the naughty branches caught +Dinah by the frizzly hair, and carried her +under. What did Flyaway spy behind +the bushes? Dotty Dimple and Jennie +Vance. They were eating wintergreen +leaves; they did not see her. Flyaway +kept as still as if she were sitting for a +photograph, picked up Dinah, gave her a +hug, and crept on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>She went so quietly that nobody heard +her. When she was out of sight she purred +for joy. She had got ahead of the girls +on the way to heaven! She took the stick +of candy out of her pocket and nibbled it +to celebrate the occasion. "A little hump-backed +bumblebee" saw her do it. He +wanted some too, and followed Flyaway +as if she had been a moving honeysuckle. +For half a mile or more she "gaed" and +she "gaed," all the while nibbling the +candy; but now she was growing very +tired, and did it to comfort herself. Suddenly +she remembered it was Charlie's candy. +She held it up to her tearful eyes.</p> + +<p>"O dee," said she, "it was big, but it +keeps a-gettin' little!"</p> + +<p>The hungry bumblebee, who was just +behind her, thought this was his last chance: +so he pounced down upon Charlie's candy;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +and being cross, and not knowing Flyaway +from any other little girl, he stung her on +the thumb. Then how she cried, "'Orny +'ting me! 'Orny 'ting me!" for she had +been treated just so before by a hornet. +"O my dee mamma! My dee mamma!"</p> + +<p>But her "dee" mamma could not hear +her; she was in the city of Augusta; and +as for the rest of the family, they supposed +Flyaway was playing "catch" with Dotty +Dimple in the barn.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>"A RAILROAD SAVAGE."</h3> + + +<p>It now occurred to little Flyaway, with +a sudden pang, that she must have come +to the end of the world. "Yes, cerdily!" +The world was full of folks and houses,—this +place was nothing but trees. The +world had horses and wagons in it,—this +place hadn't. "O dee!"</p> + +<p>Where was the hill gone, on the top of +which stood that big house they called heaven,—the +house where Charlie lived and +played in the garden? Why, that hill had +just walked off, and the house too! She parted +the bushes and peeped through. Nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +to be seen but trees. Flyaway began to cry +from sheer fright, as well as pain. "'Tis +a defful day! I can't <i>stay</i> in this day!"</p> + +<p>More trouble had come to her than she +knew how to bear; but worst of all was +the cruel stab of the bumblebee. She +pitied her aching "fum," and kissed it +herself to make it feel better; but all in +vain; "the pain kept on and on;" the +"fum" grew big as fast as the candy had +grown little.</p> + +<p>"Somebody don't take 'are o' me," wailed +she; "somebody gone off, lef' me alone!"</p> + +<p>She was dreadfully hungry. "When <i>was</i> +it be dinner time?" She would not have +been in the least surprised, but very much +pleased, if a bird had flown down with a +plate of roast lamb in his bill, and set it +on the ground before her. Simple little +Flyaway! Or if her far-away mother had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +sprung out from behind a tree with a bed +in her arms, the tired baby would have +jumped into the bed and asked no questions.</p> + +<p>But nothing of the sort came to pass. +Here she was, without any heaven or any +mother; and the great yellow sun was +creeping fast down the sky.</p> + +<p>"I'm tired out and sleepy out," wailed +the young traveller, the tears rolling over +the rims of her "spetty-curls,"—"all sleepy +out; and I can't get rested 'thout—my—muvver!"</p> + +<p>She sat down and hid her head in her +black dolly's bosom.</p> + +<p>"Diny, you got some ears? We wasn't +here by-fore!"</p> + +<p>This was all the way she had of saying +she was lost.</p> + +<p>The sky suddenly grew dark; a shower +was coming up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where has the bwight sun gone?" said +Flyaway, with a shudder.</p> + +<p>She was answered by a peal of thunder,—wagon-wheels, +she supposed.</p> + +<p>"Here I is!" shouted she.</p> + +<p>Some one had come for her. Perhaps +it was Charlie, and they meant to give her +a ride up to heaven. A flash of light, and +then another crash. Flyaway understood +it then. It was logs. People were rolling +logs up in the sky, on the blue floor. She +had seen logs in a mill. Such a noise!</p> + +<p>Then she dropped fast asleep, and somebody +came right down out of the clouds +and gave her a peach turnover as big as +a dinner basket, or so she thought. Just +as she was about to cut it, she was awakened +by the rain dripping into her eyes. +She started up, exclaiming, "If you pees +um, I want some cheese um."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the turnover had gone! Then the +feeling of desolation swept over her again. +She had come to the end of the world, +and dinner, and mother, and heaven had +all gone off and left her.</p> + +<p>"O, Diny," sobbed she, turning to her +unfeeling dolly for sympathy. "I's free +years old, and you's one years old. Don't +you want to go to heaven, Diny, and sit +in God's lap? What a great big lap he +must have!"</p> + +<p>A gust of wind lifted the frizzles on +Dinah's forehead, but that was all.</p> + +<p>"O dee, dee, dee! you don't hear nuffin +'t all, Diny," said Flyaway—the only sensible +remark she had made that day. It +was of no use talking to Dinah; so she +began to talk to herself.</p> + +<p>"What you matter, Flywer Clifford?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +said she, scowling to keep her courage up. +"What you matter?"</p> + +<p>And after she had said that, she cried +harder than ever, and crept under the +bushes, moaning like a wounded lamb.</p> + +<p>"I'm defful wetter, but I'm colder'n I's +wetter; makes me shivvle!"</p> + +<p>After a while the clouds had poured out +all the rain there was in them, and left +the sky as clear as it was before; but by +that time the sun had gone to bed, and +the little birds too, sending out their good +nights from tree to tree. Then the new +moon came, and peeped over the shoulder +of a hill at Flyaway. She sprang out from +the bushes like a rabbit.</p> + +<p>"O, my shole!" cried she, clapping her +hands, "the sun's camed again! A little +bit o' sun. I sawed it!"</p> + +<p class="center"><img class="img1" src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Lost in the Woods." width="600" height="382" /><br /> +<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Lost in the Woods</span>.</span></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> +<p>Inspired with new courage, she and +Dinah concluded to start for home; that +is to say, they turned round three or +four times, and then struck off into the +woods.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Now you may be sure all this could not +happen without causing great alarm at +grandpa Parlin's. When the dinner bell +rang, everybody asked, twice over, "Why, +where is little Fly?" and Dotty Dimple +answered, as innocently as if it were none +of her affairs,—</p> + +<p>"Why, isn't she in the house? We +s'posed she was. Jennie Vance and I have +just been out in the garden, under your +little <i>crying willow</i>, making a wreath. +Thought she was in the barn, or somewhere."</p> + +<p>"But you haven't been in the garden all +the while?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No'm; once we went up in the Pines,—grandma, +you said we might,—but we +haven't seen Fly,—why, we haven't seen +her for the longest while!"</p> + +<p>Grace had dropped her knife and fork +and was looking pale.</p> + +<p>"It was Susy and I that had the care +of her, grandma; when you went out to +see the sick lady, you charged us, and +we forgot all about it."</p> + +<p>"Pretty works, I should think!" cried +Horace, springing out of his chair; "I +wouldn't sell that baby for her weight in +gold; but I reckon <i>you</i> would, Grace Clifford, +and be glad of it, too."</p> + +<p>Grandma held up a warning finger. "I +declare," said aunt Louise, very much agitated, +"I never shall consent to have Maria +go out of town again, and leave Katie with +us. If she will try to swim in the watering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>-trough, +she is just as likely to take a walk +on the ridgepole of the house."</p> + +<p>Horace darted out of the room with a +ghastly face, but came back looking relieved. +He had been up in the attic, and +climbed through the scuttle, without finding +any human Fly on the roof, or on the +dizzy tops of the chimneys, either.</p> + +<p>But where was the child? Had Ruth +seen her? Had Abner?</p> + +<p>No; the last that could be remembered, +she had been playing by herself in the +green chamber, soaking Dinah's feet in a +glass of water. The "blue kitty," the only +creature who had anything to tell, sat +washing her face on the kitchen hearth, +and yawning sleepily. Fly's shaker was +gone from the "short nail," and aunt Louise +discovered some bank-bills in a wash-bowl,—"Fly's +work, of course." But this +was all they knew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<p>Grandpa searched the barn, Abner the +fields, Ruth the cellar; aunt Louise and +Horace ran down to the river. In half +an hour several of the neighbors had joined +in the search.</p> + +<p>"I always thought there would be a last +time," said poor Mrs. Dr. Gray, putting +on her black bonnet, and joining Grace +and Susy. "That child seems to me like +a little spirit, or a fairy, and I never thought +she would live long. She and Charlie +were too lovely for this world."</p> + +<p>"O, <i>don't</i>, Mrs. Gray," said Grace. "If +you knew how often she'd been lost, you +would not say so! We always find her, +after a while, somewhere."</p> + +<p>Horace, who had gone on in advance, +now came running back, swinging his boots +in the air.</p> + +<p>"A trail!" cried he. "I've found a trail!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +Who planted these boots in the road, if +it wasn't Fly Clifford?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she has gone to aunt Martha's," +said Mrs. Parlin, "or tried to. +Strange we did not think of that!"</p> + +<p>But aunt Martha had not seen her, nor +had any one else. Horace and Abner went +up to the Pines, but the forest beyond they +never thought of exploring; it did not +seem probable that such a small child +could have strolled to such a distance as +that.</p> + +<p>Supper time came and went. There was +a short thunder-shower. The Parlins shuddered +at every flash of lightning, and shivered +at every drop of rain; for where was +delicate, lost little Fly?</p> + +<p>Abner and Horace were out during the +shower. Horace would have braved hur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>ricanes +and avalanches in the cause of his +dear little Topknot.</p> + +<p>"There's one thing we haven't thought +of," said Abner, shaking the drops from +his hat and looking up at the sky, which +had cleared again; "we haven't thought of +the railroad surveyors! They are round +the town everywhere with their compasses +and spy-glasses."</p> + +<p>It was not a bad idea of Abner's. He +and Horace went to the hotel where the +railroad men boarded. The engineer's face +lighted at once.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had known before there was +a child missing," he said. "I saw the +figure of a little girl, through my glass, +not an hour ago. It was a long way beyond +the Pines, and I wondered how such +a baby happened up there; but I had so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +much else to think of that it passed out +of my mind."</p> + +<p>About eight o'clock, Flyaway was found +in the woods, sound asleep, under a hemlock +tree, her faithful Dinah hugged close +to her heart.</p> + +<p>There was a shout from a dozen mouths. +Horace's eyes overflowed. He caught his +beloved pet in his arms.</p> + +<p>"O, little Topknot!" he cried. "Who's +got you? Look up, look up, little Brown-brimmer."</p> + +<p>All Flyaway could do was to sob gently, +and then curl her head down on her brother's +shoulder, saying, sleepily, "Cold, ou' +doors stayin'."</p> + +<p>"Why did our darling run away?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't yun away; I's goin' up to +heaven see Charlie," replied Flyaway, suddenly +remembering the object of her jour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>ney, +and gazing around at Abner, Dr. +Gray, and the other people, with eyes full +of wonder. "Where's the toppest hill? I's +goin' up, carry Charlie some canny."</p> + +<p>The people formed a line, and, as Prudy +said, "processed" behind Katie all the way +to the village.</p> + +<p>"Is we goin' to heaven?" said the child, +still bewildered. "It yunned away and +away, and all off!"</p> + +<p>"No, you blessed baby, you are not +going to heaven just yet, if we can help +it," answered Dr. Gray, leaning over Horace's +shoulder to kiss the child.</p> + +<p>Flyaway was too tired to ask any more +questions. She let first one person carry +her, and then another, sometimes holding +up her swollen thumb, and murmuring, +"'Orny 'ting me—tell my mamma." And +after that she was asleep again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dotty Dimple, Susy, and Prudy were +pacing the piazza when the party arrived, +but poor grandma was on the sofa in the +parlor, quite overcome with anxiety and +fatigue, and Miss Polly Whiting was mournfully +fanning her with a black feather fan. +The sound of voices roused Mrs. Parlin. +"Safe! safe!" was the cry. Dotty Dimple +rushed in, shouting, "A railroad savage +found her! a railroad savage found +her!"</p> + +<p>In another moment the runaway was in +her grandmother's lap. All she could say +was, "'Orny 'ting me on my fum! 'Orny +'ting me on my fum!" For this one +little bite of a bee seemed greater to Flyaway +Clifford than all the dangers she had +passed. If grandma would only kiss her +"fum," it was no matter about going to +heaven, or even being undressed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>But after she had had a bowl of bread +and milk, and been nicely bathed, she forgot +her sufferings, and laughed in her +sleep. She was dreaming how Charlie +came to the door of heaven and helped +her up the steps.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>EAST AGAIN.</h3> + + +<p>A whole year passed. Dotty Dimple +became a school-girl, with a "bosom friend" +and a pearl ring. Prudy, who called herself +"the middle-aged sister," grew tall and +slender. Katie was four years old, and +just a little heavier, so she no longer +needed a cent in her pocket to keep her +from blowing away.</p> + +<p>The Parlins had been at Willowbrook a +week before the Cliffords arrived. There +was a great sensation over Katie. She was +delighted to hear that she had grown more +than any of the others.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm gettin' old all over!" said she, +gayly. "Four—goin' to be five! Wish +I was most six. Dotty Dimpul, don't you +wish <i>you's</i> most a <i>hunderd</i>?"</p> + +<p>"O, you cunning little cousin!" said +Dotty, embracing her rapturously; "I wish +you loved me half as well as I love you; +that's what I wish. I told Tate Penny +you were prettier than Tid; and so you +are. Such red cheeks! But what makes +one cheek redder than the other?"</p> + +<p>"O, I eat my bread 'n' milk that side o' +my mouf," replied Flyaway; "and that's +why."</p> + +<p>"What an idea! And your hair is just +as fine as ever it was; the color of my +ring—isn't it, Prudy?"</p> + +<p>Flyaway put her little hand to her head, +and felt the floss flying about as usual.</p> + +<p>"My hair comes all to pieces," explained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +she; "<i>or nelse</i> I have a ribbon to tie it +up with."</p> + +<p>"Are you glad to come back to Willowbrook, +you precious little dear?" asked +two or three voices.</p> + +<p>"Yes 'm," said Flyaway, doubtfully; +"Y—es—um."</p> + +<p>"She doesn't remember anything about +it, I guess," said Prudy, kneeling before +the little one, and kissing the sweet place +in her neck.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," said Flyaway, winking +hard and breathing quick in the effort to +recall the very dim and very distant past; +"yes, I 'member."</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you 'member?"</p> + +<p>"O, once I was grindin' coffee out there +in a yellow chair, and somebody she came +and put me in the sink."</p> + +<p>"She does know—doesn't she?" said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +Dotty. "That was Ruthie; come out in +the kitchen and see her."</p> + +<p>But when Flyaway first looked into Ruth's +smiling face, with its black eyes and sharp +nose, she could not remember that she had +ever seen it before. Abner, too, was +strange to her.</p> + +<p>"Come here," said he, "and I can tell +in a minute if you are a good little girl."</p> + +<p>Flyaway cast down her soft eyes, and +sidled along to Abner.</p> + +<p>"Here, touch this watch," said he, "and +if you are a good little girl it will fly open; +if you are naughty it will stay shut."</p> + +<p>Flyaway looked askance at Abner, her +finger in her mouth, but dared not touch +the watch.</p> + +<p>"Who'd 'a thought it, now?" said Abner, +pretending to be shocked. "Looks +to be a nice child; but of course she isn't,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +or she'd come right up and open the +watch."</p> + +<p>Flyaway thrust another finger in her +mouth, and pressed her eyelids slowly together. +Abner did not understand this, +but it meant that he had not treated her +with proper respect.</p> + +<p>"Here, Ruth," said he, in a low tone, +"hand me one of your plum tarts; that'll +fetch her.—Come here, my pretty one, +and see what's inside of this little pie."</p> + +<p>Flyaway was very hungry. She took a +step forward, and held her hand out, though +rather timidly.</p> + +<p>"But she mustn't eat it without asking +her mamma," said Ruth.</p> + +<p>"Yes; O, yes," cried Miss Flyaway, +opening her little mouth for the first time, +and shutting it again over a big bite of +tart; "I want to eat it and <i>s'prise</i> my +mamma."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>Abner laughed in his hearty fashion. +"Some of the old mischief left there yet," +said he, catching Flyaway and tossing her +to the ceiling. "Have you come here this +summer to keep the whole house in commotion? +Remember the Charlie boy—don't +you—that had the meal-bags tied +to his feet?"</p> + +<p>"Did he? What for?"</p> + +<p>Flyaway had not the least recollection +of Charlie; but Horace had talked to her +about him, and she said, after a moment's +thought,—</p> + +<p>"Yes, he washed the pig. Me and +Charlie, we played all everything what we +thinked about."</p> + +<p>"So you did, surely," said a woman +who had just come in at the back door, +and begun to drop kisses, as sad as tears, +on Flyaway's forehead. "Do you know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +who this is?" Flyaway looked up with a +sweet smile, but her mind had lost all impression +of her melancholy friend, Miss +Whiting. "Look again," said the sad-eyed +stranger, who did not like to have +even a little child forget her; "you used +to call me the 'Polly woman.'"</p> + +<p>Katie looked again, and this time very +closely.</p> + +<p>"There's a great deal o' yellowness in +your face," exclaimed she, after a careful +survey; "but you was made so!"</p> + +<p>Miss Polly laughed drearily. "So you +don't remember how I took you out of +the watering-trough, you sweet lamb! 'I's +tryin' to swim,' you said; 'and <i>that's</i> what +is it.' Here's a summer-sweeting for you, +dear; do you like them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes'm, thank you," said Flyaway, "but +I like summer-<i>sourings</i> the best."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the same time she allowed herself to +be taken in Miss Polly's lap, and won that +tender-hearted woman's love by putting her +arms round her neck, and saying, "Let +me kiss you so you'll feel all better. What +makes you have tears in your eyes?—tell +me."</p> + +<p>"We're good friends—I knew we +should be," said Miss Polly, quite cheerily. +"Look out of the window, and see that +swing. How many times I've pushed you +and Dotty in that swing when it seemed +as if it would break my back!"</p> + +<p>Flyaway looked out. There stood the +two trees, and between them hung the old +swing; but the charm was forgotten. In +the field beyond, her eye fell on an object +more interesting to her.</p> + +<p>"O, O," said she, "I don't see how God +<i>could</i> make a man so homebly as that!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So homely as what?"</p> + +<p>"Why," laughed Dotty, "she means that +scarecrow."</p> + +<p>The corn was up long ago, but one direful +image had still been left to flaunt in +the sunlight and soak in the rain.</p> + +<p>"That isn't a man," said Prudy; "it's +only a great monstrous rag baby, with a +coat on."</p> + +<p>"Put there to frighten away the crows," +added Miss Polly. "When Abner dropped +corn in the ground, the great black crows +wanted to come and pick it out, and eat +it up."</p> + +<p>Flyaway frowned in token of strong dislike +to the crows. "I wouldn't eat gampa's +corn for anything in this world," said +she,—"'thout it's popped! 'Cause I don't +like it."</p> + +<p>Miss Polly laughed quite merrily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There," said she, "I've dropped a stitch +in my side; it never agrees with me to +laugh. I must be going right home, too; +but there is one thing more I want to ask +you, Katie; do you remember how you +ran away, one day, and frightened the whole +house, trying to climb up to heaven?"</p> + +<p>Katie's face was blank; she had forgotten +the journey.</p> + +<p>"You passed Jennie Vance and me in +the Pines," said Dotty, "and went deep +into the woods, and a bee stung you."</p> + +<p>"O, now I 'member," said Katie, suddenly. +"I 'member the bee as plain as 'tever +'twas!" And she curled her lip with contempt +for that small Flyaway, of long ago—that +silly baby who had thought heaven +was on a hill.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> went up on a ladder when I was three +years old," said Prudy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you?" said Flyaway. This was +a consolation. "Well, I was three years +old, too; I didn't know 'bout angels—didn't +know they had to have wings on."</p> + +<p>Here Flyaway curled her lip again and +smiled.</p> + +<p>"You are wiser now," sighed Miss Polly. +"You and I won't try to go to heaven till +our time comes—will we, dear?"</p> + +<p>Katie took Miss Polly's large, thin hand, +and measured it beside her own tiny one.</p> + +<p>"Miss Polly," said she, with one of her +extremely wise looks, "when you go up +to God you'll be a very little girl!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, indeed!" said Miss Polly, weaving +the third pin into her shawl; "how do +you make that out?"</p> + +<p>"Your body'll all be cut off," replied +Katie, making the motion of a pair of scissors +with her fingers; "all be cut right<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +straight off; there won't be nuffin' left but +just your little spirit!"</p> + +<p>"Since you know so much, dear, how +large is my spirit?"</p> + +<p>Katie put her hand on the left side of +the belt of her apron.</p> + +<p>"Don't you call that small, right under +my hand a-beatin'?" said she. "'Bout's +big as a bird, Miss Polly. Little round +ball for a head, little mites o' eyes; but +you won't care—you can see <i>just</i> as well."</p> + +<p>"It does beat all where children get such +queer ideas—doesn't it, Ruth?" said Miss +Whiting.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you know it?" cried Katie, finding +she had startled Miss Polly. "Didn't +you know you's goin' to be little, and fly +in the air just so?" throwing up her arms. +"I want to go dreffully, for there's a gold +harp o' music up there, and I'll play on it: +it'll be mine."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't feel in a hurry to die, I +hope," said Miss Polly, anxiously.</p> + +<p>Katie's eager face clouded. "No," said +she, sorrowfully; "I want to, but I hate +to go up to God and leave my pink dress. +I can't go into it then, I'll be so little."</p> + +<p>"You'll be just big enough to go into +the pocket," laughed Dotty.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Miss Polly, gravely; "you +shouldn't joke upon such serious subjects. +Good by, children. Your house is full of +company, and I didn't come to stay. Here's +a bag of thoroughwort I've been picking +for your grandmother; you may give it to +her with my love, and tell her my side is +worse. I shall be in to-morrow."</p> + +<p>So saying, Miss Polly went away, seeming +to be wafted out of the room on a +sigh.</p> + +<p>The high-chair was brought down from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +the attic for Flyaway, who sat in it that +evening at the tea-table, and smiled round +upon her friends in the most benevolent +manner.</p> + +<p>"I's growing so big now, mamma," said +she, coaxingly, "don't you spect I must +have some tea?"</p> + +<p>Grandmother pleaded for the youngest, +too. "Let me give her some just this +once, Maria."</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>white</i> tea, then," returned Mrs. +Clifford, smiling; "and will Flyaway remember +not to ask for it again? Mamma +thinks little girls should drink milk."</p> + +<p>"Yes'm, I won't never. She gives it +to me <i>this</i> night, 'cause I's her little <i>grand-girl</i>. +Mayn't Hollis have it too, 'cause he's +her little grand-<i>boy</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Cunning as ever, you see," whispered +the admiring Horace to cousin Susy, who +replied, rather indifferently,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"No cunninger than our Prudy used to +be."</p> + +<p>Flyaway made quick work of drinking +her white tea, and when she came to the +last few drops she swung her cup round +and round, saying,—</p> + +<p>"Didn't you know, Hollis, that's the way +gampa does, when <i>he</i> gets most froo, to +make it sweet?"</p> + +<p>No, Horace had not noticed; it was +"Fly, with her little eye," who saw everything, +and made remarks about it.</p> + +<p>"O, O," cried Grace, dropping her knife +and fork, and patting her hands softly +under the table, "isn't it so nice to be at +Willowbrook again, taking supper together? +Doesn't it remind you of pleasant +things, Susy, to eat grandma's cream toast?"</p> + +<p>"Reminds me," said Susy, after reflecting, +"of jumping on the hay."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Minds me of—of—" remarked Flyaway; +and there she fell into a brown +study, with her head swaying from side +to side.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why it is," said Prudy, +"but since you spoke, this cream toast +makes me think of the rag-bag. Excuse +me for being impolite, grandma, but where +<i>is</i> the rag-bag?"</p> + +<p>"In the back room, dear, where it always +is; and you may wheel it off to-morrow."</p> + +<p>It had been Mrs. Parlin's custom, once +or twice every summer, to allow the children +to take the large, heavy rag-bag to +the store, and sell its contents for little +articles, which they divided among themselves. +Sometimes the price of the rags +amounted to half or three quarters of a +dollar, and there was a regular carnival of +figs, candy, and fire-crackers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>Horace was so much older now, that +he did not fancy the idea of being seen in +the street, trundling a wheelbarrow; but +he went on with his cream toast and made +no remark.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE RAG-BAG.</h3> + + +<p>Next morning there was a loud call from +the three Parlins for the rag-bag, in which +Flyaway joined, though she hardly knew +the difference between a rag-bag and a paper +of pins.</p> + +<p>"I wish you to understand, girls," said +Horace, flourishing his hat, "that I'm not +going to cart round any such trash for you +this summer."</p> + +<p>"Now, Horace!"</p> + +<p>"You know, Gracie, you belong to a +Girls' Rights' Society. Do you suppose I +want to interfere with your privileges?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, Horace Clifford, you wouldn't see +your own sister trundling a wheelbarrow?"</p> + +<p>"O, no; I shan't be there," said Horace, +coolly; "I shan't see you. I promised to +weed the verbena bed for your aunt Louise. +Good by, girls. Success to the rag-bag!"</p> + +<p>"Let's catch him!" cried Susy, darting +after her ungallant cousin; but he ran so +fast, and flourished his garden hoe so recklessly, +that she gave up the chase.</p> + +<p>"Let him go," said Grace, with a fine-lady +air: "who cares about rag-bags? +We've outgrown that sort of thing, you +and I, Susy; let the little girls have our +share."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to be sure," replied Susy, faintly, +though not without a pang, for she still +retained a childish fondness for jujube paste, +and was not allowed a great abundance of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +pocket-money. "Yes, to be sure, let the +<i>little</i> girls have our share."</p> + +<p>"Then may we three youngest have the +whole rag-bag?" said Prudy, brightly. +"Dotty, you and I will trundle the wheelbarrow, +and Fly shall go behind."</p> + +<p>"What an idea!" exclaimed Grace. "I've +seen little beggar children drawing a dog-cart. +Grandma'll never allow such a thing."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I will," said grandma, tying on +her checked apron. "Dog-carts or wheel-barrows, +so they only take care not to be +rude. In a city it is different."</p> + +<p>"Yes, grandma," said Dotty, twisting her +front hair joyfully; "but here in the country +they want little girls to have good +times—don't they? Why don't everybody +move into the country, do you s'pose? +Lots of bare spots round here,—nothing +on 'em but cows."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, nuffin' but gampa's cows," chimed +in Flyaway, twisting <i>her</i> front hair.</p> + +<p>"Louisa," said Mrs. Parlin, "you may +help me about this loaf of 'Maine plum +cake,' and while you are beating the butter +and sugar I will look over the rag-bag. +Dotty, please run for my spectacles."</p> + +<p>When Dotty returned with the spectacles, +Jennie Vance came with her, pouting +a little at the cool reception she had met, +and thinking Miss Dimple hardly polite +because she was too much interested in +an old rag-bag to pay proper attention to +visitors.</p> + +<p>"Grandma, what makes you pick over +these rags? We can take them just as they +are."</p> + +<p>"I always do so, my dear, and for several +reasons. One is, that woollen pieces +may have crept in by mistake. As we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +profess to sell cotton rags, it would be +dishonest to mix them with woollen."</p> + +<p>"Yes'm, I understand," said Jennie, who +often spoke when it was quite as well to +keep silent; "it's always best to be honest—isn't +it, Mrs. Parlin?"</p> + +<p>The rags were spread out upon the table, +giving Flyaway a fine opportunity to scatter +them right and left.</p> + +<p>"O, here's a splendid piece of blue ribbon +to make my doll a bonnet," said Dotty.</p> + +<p>"That's another reason why she picks +'em over," remarked Jennie; "so she won't +waste things. Only, Dotty, that has got +an awful grease-spot."</p> + +<p>"There, children," said Mrs. Parlin, presently, +"I have taken out a card of hooks +and eyes, a flannel bandage, and a shoe-string. +You may have everything else."</p> + +<p>Dotty caught her grandmother's arm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +"Please, grandma, don't sweep 'em into +the bag; let us look some more. I've just +found a big Lisle glove; if I can find another, +then Abner can go blackberrying; he +says his hands are ever so tender."</p> + +<p>"And you thought he was in earnest," +said Prudy. "While you are looking, +I'll go into the nursery and finish that +holder."</p> + +<p>Flyaway, having climbed upon the table, +had rolled herself into some mosquito netting, +like a caterpillar in a cocoon. They +were all so much interested, that grandma, +in the kindness of her heart, did not like +to disturb them.</p> + +<p>"You are welcome to all the treasures +you can find, but as soon as the cake is +made I shall want the table; so be quick," +said she, looking out from the pantry, where +she was beating eggs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, grandma, we'll hurry; and +may we have every single thing we like +the looks of? now, honest."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dotty."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Parlin and Miss Louise talked +about currants, and citron, and quite forgot +such trifles as rag-bags.</p> + +<p>"Here's another big glove," said Dotty, +"not the same color, but no matter; and +here are some saddle-bags, Jennie. I'm +going to be a doctor."</p> + +<p>"Saddle-bags, Dotty! those are pockets." +Jennie took them from Miss Dimple's hands. +They were held together by a narrow strip +of brown linen, and had once belonged to +a pair of pantaloons.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to see if there isn't something +inside," said Jennie. "Why, yes, +here's a raisin, true's you live. And here, +in the other one,—O, Dotty!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Dotty had run into the nursery to +show Prudy a muslin cap.</p> + +<p>"A wad of—"</p> + +<p>Jennie was determined to see what; so +she unrolled it.</p> + +<p>"Scrip," cried she, holding up some +greenbacks.</p> + +<p>"Skipt," echoed Flyaway, who had come +out of the cocoon and gone into the form +of a mop, her head adorned with cotton +fringe.</p> + +<p>Yes; a two dollar bill and a one dollar +bill, as green as lettuce leaves. This was +a great marvel. Columbus was not half +so much surprised when he discovered +America.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Parlin, do you hear?"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Parlin heard nothing, for the +din of the egg-beating drowned both the +shrill little voices.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<p>A sudden idea came to Jennie. Whose +money was this? Mrs. Parlin's? No; hadn't +Mrs. Parlin looked over the rags once, +and said the children might have what was +left? "'You are welcome to all the treasures +you can find;' that was what she +said," repeated Jennie to herself. "I'm the +one that found this treasure,—not Dotty, +not Flyaway. This is honest, and I do not +lie when I say it."</p> + +<p>Jennie began to tremble, and a hot color +flew into her cheeks, and added new lustre +to her black eyes. "If I could only make +Flyaway forget it," thought she, with a +whirling sensation of anger towards the innocent +child, who knew no better than to +proclaim aloud every piece of news she +heard. "I'll make her forget it." Jenny +hastily concealed the money in the neck of +her dress.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where's that skipt? that skipt?" said +Flyaway.</p> + +<p>"Fly Clifford," said Jennie, severely, +"you've climbed on the table! Just think +of it! Your grandmother doesn't allow +you on her table. What made you get up +here."</p> + +<p>"'Cause," replied Flyaway, seizing the +kitty by the tail, and thrusting her into a +cabbage-net, "'cause I fought best."</p> + +<p>"But you must get right down, this +minute."</p> + +<p>"No," said Flyaway, shaking her head-dress +of white fringe with great solemnity; +"I isn't goin' to get down."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you must."</p> + +<p>Flyaway opened and shut her eyes slowly, +in token of deep displeasure. "I don't +never 'low little girls to scold to me," said +she. "You'd better call grandma; 'haps +<i>she</i> can make me get down."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>But it was not Jennie's purpose to wait +for that; she seized the little one roughly +by the arms, pulled her from the table, +and hurried her into the parlor.</p> + +<p>Flyaway was indignant. "Does you—feel +happy?" said she, with a reproachful +glance at Jennie.</p> + +<p>"There, look out of the window, Flyaway, +darling, and watch to see if Horace +isn't coming in from the garden."</p> + +<p>"Can't Hollis come, 'thout me watching +him?" returned Flyaway, winking slowly +again, for her sweet little soul was stirred +with wrath. The memory of the "skipt" +had indeed been driven away, and she could +only think,—</p> + +<p>"Isn't Jennie so easy fretted! I wasn't +doin' nuffin'; and then she jumped me right +down. Unpolite gell! that's one thing."</p> + +<p>And Jennie was thinking, "She nev<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>er'll +remember the money now, or, if she +does, I don't believe Mrs. Parlin will pay +any attention to what she says." Jennie +was still very much excited, and wondered +why she trembled so.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to keep it unless it's perfectly +proper," thought she; "I guess I +know the eighth commandment fast enough. +I shan't keep it unless Dotty thinks best. +I'll tell her, and see what she says."</p> + +<p>Jennie had often pilfered little things +from her mother's cupboard, such as cake +and raisins; but a piece of money of the +most trifling value she had never thought +of taking before.</p> + +<p>Leaving Flyaway busy with block houses, +she ran to the nursery door, and motioned +with her finger for Dotty to come out.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said Dotty, when they +were both shut into the china closet;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +"don't you want my sister Prudy to +know?"</p> + +<p>Jennie replied, in a great flutter, "No, +no, no. You musn't tell a single soul, +Dotty Dimple, as long as you live, and +I'll give you half."</p> + +<p>"Half what?"</p> + +<p>Jennie produced the money from her +bosom, feeling, I am glad to say, very +guilty. "Out o' those saddle-bag pockets +out there," added she, breathlessly; "true's +the world."</p> + +<p>"Why, Jennie Vance!"</p> + +<p>"One had a raisin in and a button, and +nobody but me would have thought of looking. +You wouldn't—now would you? My +father says I've got such sharp eyes!"</p> + +<p>"H'm!" said Dotty, who considered her +own eyes as bright as any diamonds; "you +took the saddle-bag right out of my hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +How do you know I shouldn't have peeked +in?"</p> + +<p>Jennie did not reply, but smoothed out +the wrinkled notes with many a loving pat.</p> + +<p>"What did grandma say?" asked Dotty; +"wasn't she pleased?"</p> + +<p>"Your grandmother doesn't know anything +about it, Dotty Dimple; what business +is it to her?"</p> + +<p>Jennie's tone was defiant. She assumed +a courage she was far from feeling.</p> + +<p>Dotty was speechless with surprise, but +her eyes grew as round as soap-bubbles.</p> + +<p>"The pockets don't belong to her, Dotty, +and never did. They never came out of +any of her dresses—now did they?"</p> + +<p>Dotty's eyes swelled like a couple of bubbles +ready to burst.</p> + +<p>"Jennie Vance, I didn't know you's a +thief."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You stop talking so, Dotty. She was +going to sweep everything into the rag-bag—now +wasn't she? And this money +would have gone in too, if it hadn't been +for my sharp eyes—now wouldn't it?"</p> + +<p>"But it isn't yours, Jennie Vance—because +it don't belong to you."</p> + +<p>"Now, Dotty—"</p> + +<p>"You go right off, Jennie Vance, and +carry it to my grandma this minute."</p> + +<p>The tone of command irritated Jennie. +She had not felt at all decided about keeping +the money, but opposition gave her +courage. Her temper and Dotty's were +always meeting and striking fire.</p> + +<p>"It isn't your grandma's pockets, Miss +Parlin. If it was the last word I was to +speak, it isn't your grandmother's pockets!"</p> + +<p>"Jane Sidney Vance!"</p> + +<p>"You needn't call me by my middle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +name, and stare so at me, Dotty Dimple. +I was going to give you half!"</p> + +<p>"What do I want of half, when it isn't +yours to give?" said Dotty, gazing regretfully +at the money, nevertheless. Three +dollars! Why, it was a small fortune! +If it only did really belong to Jenny!</p> + +<p>"Your grandmother said everything we +liked the looks of, Dotty. Don't you like +the looks of this?"</p> + +<p>"But you know, Jennie—"</p> + +<p>"O, you needn't preach to me. You +wasn't the one that found it. If I'd truly +been a thief, or if I hadn't been a thief, +it would have been right for me to keep +it, and perfectly proper, and not said a +word to you, either; so there."</p> + +<p>"Jennie Vance, I'm going right out of +this closet, and tell my grandma what you've +said."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wait, Dotty Dimple; let me get through +talking. I meant to buy things for your +grandmother with it. O, yes, I did—a +silk dress, and cap, and shoes."</p> + +<p>Dotty twirled her hair, and looked +thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"Of course I did. Wouldn't it surprise +her, when she wasn't expecting it? And +Flyaway, too,—something for her. We +wouldn't keep anything for ourselves, only +just enough to buy clothes and such things +as we really need."</p> + +<p>Before Dotty had time to reply there +was a loud scream from the parlor.</p> + +<p>"Fly is killed—she is killed!" cried +Dotty; but Jennie had presence of mind +enough to tuck the bills into the neck of +her dress.</p> + +<p>"Don't you tell anybody a word about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +it, Dotty. If you tell I'll do something +awful to you. Do you hear?"</p> + +<p>Dotty heard, but did not answer. The +fate of her cousin Flyaway seemed more +important to her just then than all the +bank-bills in the world.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>THE WICKED GIRL.</h3> + + +<p>Flyaway had only been climbing the +outside of the staircase, and would have +done very well, if some one had not rung +the door-bell, and startled her so that she +fell from the very top stair to the floor. +It was feared, at first, that several bones +were broken and her intellect injured for +life; but after crying fifteen minutes, she +seemed to feel nearly as well as before.</p> + +<p>"If ever a child was made of thistle-down +it is Flyaway Clifford," said aunt Louise.</p> + +<p>Still it was not thought best for her to +fatigue herself that day by selling rags,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +and the wheelbarrow enterprise was put off +until the next morning.</p> + +<p>The person who rang the door-bell was +Mrs. Vance's girl Susan, who called for +Jennie to go home and try on a frock. +Jennie did not return, and Dotty had a +sense of uneasiness all day. The guilty +secret of the three dollars weighed upon +her mind. Should she, or should she not, +tell her grandmother?</p> + +<p>"I don't know but Jennie would do +something to my things if I told," thought +she; "but then I never promised a word. +Here it is four o'clock. Who knows but +she's gone and spent that money, and my +grandmother never'll know what's 'come of +it?"</p> + +<p>This possibility was very alarming. "Jennie +Vance doesn't seem to have any little +whisper inside of <i>her</i> heart, that ticks like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +a watch; but <i>I</i> have. <i>My</i> conscience pricks; +so I know that perhaps it's my duty to go +and tell."</p> + +<p>Dotty drew herself up virtuously and +looked in the glass. There she seemed to +see an angelic little girl, whose only wish +was to do just right—a little girl as much +purer than Jennie Vance, as a lily is purer +than a very ugly toadstool.</p> + +<p>Well, Miss Dotty, there is some truth +in the picture. Jennie is not a good child; +but neither are you an angel. There is +more wickedness in your proud little heart +than you will ever begin to find out. And +wait a minute. Who teaches you all you +know of right and wrong? Is it your +mother? Suppose she had died, as did +Jennie's mamma, when you were a toddling +baby?</p> + +<p>There, that's all; you do not hear a word<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +I say; and if you did, you would not heed, +O, self-righteous Dotty Dimple!</p> + +<p>Dotty ran up stairs to find her grandmother.</p> + +<p>"Grandma," whispered she, though there +was no one else in the room; "something +dreadful has happened. You've lost three +dollars!"</p> + +<p>"What, dear?"</p> + +<p>"O, you needn't look in your pocket. +Jennie found 'em in the rag-bag, and tried +to make me take half; but of course I +never; and now she's run off with 'em!"</p> + +<p>"Found three dollars in the rag-bag? +I guess not."</p> + +<p>"Yes, grandma; for I saw her just as +she was going to find em', in a pair of +pockets. I should have seen 'em myself +if she hadn't looked first."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Is this really so? But she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +ought to have come and given them to +me."</p> + +<p>"That was just what I told her, over +and over, grandma, and over again. But +she's a dreadful naughty girl, Jennie Vance +is. If there's anything bad she can do, +she goes right off and does it."</p> + +<p>"Hush, my child."</p> + +<p>"Yes'm, I won't say any more, <i>only</i> I +don't think my mother would like to have +me play with little girls that take money +out of rag-bags."</p> + +<p>Dotty drew herself up again in a very +stately way.</p> + +<p>"Jennie <i>said</i> she was going to buy you +a silk dress and so forth; but she does +truly lie so, 'one to another,' that you can't +believe her for certain, not half she says."</p> + +<p>Grandma looked over her spectacles and +through the window, as if trying to see +what ought to be done.</p> + +<p class="center"><img class="img1" src="images/image_05.jpg" alt="You can't believe her for certain." width="400" height="658" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"<span class="smcap">You can't believe her for certain</span>.</span></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> +<p>"You did right to tell me this, my +child," said she; "but I wish you to say +nothing about it to any one else: will you +remember?"</p> + +<p>"Yes'm," replied Dotty, trying to read +her grandmother's face, and feeling a little +alarmed by its solemnity. "What you +going to do, grandma? Not put Jennie +in the lockup—are you? 'Cause if you +do—O, don't you! She said 'twas her +sharp eyes, and she didn't mean to steal, +and 'twasn't your pockets, and she promised +she'd give me half—yes, she truly +did, grandma."</p> + +<p>"Go, dear, and bring me my bonnet +from the band-box in my bed-room closet."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Parlin folded the sheet she +was making, put on her best shawl and +bonnet, and kid gloves, and taking her +sun umbrella, set out for a walk. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +was a look in her face which made her +little granddaughter think it would not be +proper to ask any questions.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parlin met Jennie Vance coming +in at the gate.</p> + +<p>"O, dear," thought Dotty, "I don't want +to see her. Grandma says I've done right, +but Jennie'll call me a tell-tale. I'll go +out in the barn and hide."</p> + +<p>The guilty secret had lain heavy at Jennie's +heart all day. As soon as her dress-maker +could spare her, and a troublesome +little cousin had left, she asked permission +to go to Mrs. Parlin's.</p> + +<p>"Dotty thinks I meant to keep it," she +thought. "I never did see such a girl. +You can't say the least little thing but +she takes it sober earnest, and says she'll +tell her grandmother."</p> + +<p>Jennie stole round by the back door, +and timidly asked for Miss Dimple.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know where she is," +answered Ruthie, with a pleasant smile; +"nor Flyaway either. I have been living +in peace for half an hour."</p> + +<p>Ruthie made you think of lemon candy; +she was sweet and tart too.</p> + +<p>While Jennie, with the kind assistance +of Prudy, was hunting for Dotty, Mrs. +Parlin was in Judge Vance's parlor, talking +with Jennie's step-mother. Mrs. Vance +was shocked to hear of her daughter's conduct, +for she loved her and wished her to +do right.</p> + +<p>"My poor Jennie," said she; "from her +little babyhood until she was six years old, +there was no one to take care of her but +a hired nurse, who neglected her sadly."</p> + +<p>"I know just what sort of training Jennie +has had from Serena Pond," said Mrs. +Parlin; "it was most unfortunate. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +you are so faithful with her, my dear Mrs. +Vance, that I do believe she will outgrow +all those early influences."</p> + +<p>"I keep hoping so," said Mrs. Vance, +repressing a sigh; "I take it very kindly +of you, Mrs. Parlin, that you should come +to me with this affair. I shall not allow +Jennie to go to your house very often. +You do not like to wound my feelings, +but I am sure you cannot wish to have +your little granddaughter very intimate +with a child who is sly and untruthful."</p> + +<p>"My dear lady," said grandma Parlin, +taking Mrs. Vance's hand, and pressing it +warmly; "since we are talking so freely +together, and I know you are too generous +to be offended, I will confess to you that +if Jennie persists in concealing this money, +I would prefer not to have Dotty play with +her very much; at least while her mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +is not here to have the care of her." It +was hard for Mrs. Parlin to say this, and +she added presently,—</p> + +<p>"Please let Jennie spend the night at +our house. She may wish to talk with me; +we will give her the opportunity."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vance gladly consented. She had +observed that Jennie seemed unhappy, and +was very anxious to see Dotty again. She +hoped she had gone to return the money +of her own free will.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Parlin opened the nursery +door at home, she found Jennie building +block houses, to Flyaway's great delight, +while at the other end of the room sat +Dotty Dimple, resolutely sewing patchwork.</p> + +<p>"O, grandma," spoke up Flyaway, "Jennie +came to see me; she didn't come to +see Dotty, 'cause Dotty don't want to talk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +There, now, Jennie, make a rat to put in +the cupboard. R goes first to rat."</p> + +<p>Innocent little Flyaway! She had long +ago forgotten her pique against Jennie for +being "so easy fretted," and jumping her +down from the table.</p> + +<p>Wretched little Jennie! The new blue +and white frock, just finished by her dress-maker, +covered a heart filled with mortification. +Dotty Dimple would not talk to +her. It seemed as if Dotty had climbed +to the top of a high mountain, and was +looking down, down upon her.</p> + +<p>Dotty did feel very exalted to-day; but +there was another reason why she would +not talk with Jennie: she might have to +confess that grandma knew about the +money; and then what a scene there would +be! So Dotty set her lips together, and +sewed as if she was afraid somebody would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +freeze to death before she could finish her +patchwork quilt.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clifford, who did not understand +the cause of Dotty's lofty mood, took pity +on Jennie, and tried to amuse her. After +a while, Dotty came softly along, and sat +down close to her aunt Maria, ready to +listen to the story of the "Pappoose," +though she had heard it fifty times before.</p> + +<p>She did not see Jennie alone for one +moment. Grandma Parlin did. "Jennie," +said she, taking her into the parlor to show +her a new shell, "are you going with our +little girls, to-morrow, to sell rags?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, ma'am, I'm sure," replied +Jennie, looking hard at the sofa. She +longed to make an open confession, and +get rid of the troublesome money, but had +not the courage to do it without some help +from Dotty.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> +<p>"O, dear," thought she, "I feel just as +wicked with that money in my bosom! +Seems as if she could hear it crumple. If +Dotty would only let me talk to her first!"</p> + +<p>But Dotty continued as unapproachable +as the Pope of Rome. Eight o'clock came, +and the two unhappy little girls went +slowly up stairs to bed. Dotty, in her +lofty pride, tried to make her little friend +feel herself a sinner; while Jennie, ready +to hide herself in the potato-bin for +shame, was, at the same time, very angry +with the self-satisfied Miss Dimple. She +was awed by her superior goodness, but +did not love her any the better for it. +Why should she? Dotty's goodness lacked</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Humility</i>, that low, sweet root,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From which all heavenly virtues shoot." +</div></div> + +<p>"Here, Miss Parlin," said Jennie, angri<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>ly, +as she took off her dress; "here it is, +right in my neck. I should have gone and +given it to your grandmother, ever so long +ago, if you hadn't acted so!"</p> + +<p>Dotty pulled off her stockings.</p> + +<p>"I 'spose you thought I was going to +keep it. Here, take your old money!"</p> + +<p>"You did mean to keep it, Jane Sidney +Vance," retorted Dotty, as fierce as a thistle; +and finished undressing at the top of +her speed.</p> + +<p>The money lay on the floor, and neither +of the proud girls would pick it up. Jennie, +who always prayed at her mother's knee, +forgot her prayer to-night, and climbed +into bed without it. But Dotty, feeling +more than ever how much better she was +than her little friend, knelt beside a chair, +and prayed in a loud voice. First, she +repeated the "Lord's Prayer," then "Gen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>tle +Jesus, meek and mild," and "Now I +lay me down to sleep." She was not talking +to her heavenly Father, but to Jennie, +and ended her petitions thus:—</p> + +<p>"O God, forgive me if I have done +anything naughty to-day; and please forgive +<i>Jennie Vance, the wickedest girl in +this town</i>."</p> + +<p>Then the little Pharisee got into bed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>"WHEELBARROWING."</h3> + + +<p>"The wickedest girl in this town!" Jennie's +eyes flashed in the dark like a couple +of fireflies. At first she was too angry +to speak; and when words did come, they +were too weak. She wanted words that +were so strong, and bitter, and fierce, that +they would make Dotty quail. But all +she could say was,—</p> + +<p>"O, dreadful good you are, Miss Parlin! +Good's the minister! Ah! guess I'll get +out and sleep on the floor!"</p> + +<p>Dotty made no reply, but rolled over +to the front of the bed, and Jennie pushed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +herself to the back of it. There the little +creatures lay in silence, each on an edge +of the bedstead, and a whole mattress +between. Sleep did not come at once.</p> + +<p>"She's left that money on the floor," +thought Dotty; "what if a mouse should +creep down the chimney, and gnaw it all +up? But she must take care of it herself. +<i>I</i> shan't!"</p> + +<p>And Jennie thought, wrathfully, "Dotty +says such long prayers she can't stop to +pick up that scrip! If she expects me to +get out of bed, she's made a mistake; I +won't touch her old money."</p> + +<p>About nine o'clock grandma Parlin came +quietly into the room with a lamp. A +smile crept round the corners of her mouth, +as she saw the little girls sleeping so +widely apart, their faces turned away from +each other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How is this?" said she, as the two +bills caught her eye. "Of all the foolish +children! Dropping money about the room +like waste paper!"</p> + +<p>The light awoke Jennie, who had only +just fallen asleep. "Now is the time," +said she to herself; and without waiting +for a second thought, which would have +been a worse one, she sprang out of bed, +and caught Mrs. Parlin by the skirts.</p> + +<p>"That money is yours, Mrs. Parlin," +said she, bravely. "Yours; I found it +in the rag-bag. Something naughty came +into me this morning, and made me want to +keep it; but I'm ever so sorry, and never'll +do it again. Will you forgive me?"</p> + +<p>Then grandma Parlin seated herself in +a rocking-chair, took Jennie right into her +lap, and talked to her a long while in the +sweetest way. Jennie curled her head into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +the good woman's neck, and sobbed out +all her wretchedness.</p> + +<p>"She knew she was real bad, and people +didn't like to have her play with their +little girls, and Dotty Dimple thought she +was awful; but <i>was</i> she the wickedest girl +in this town?"</p> + +<p>"No; O, no!"</p> + +<p>"Wasn't Dotty some bad, too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dotty often did wrong."</p> + +<p>Then Jenny wept afresh.</p> + +<p>"She knew she <i>was</i> worse than Dotty, +though. She wished,—O, dear, as true +as she lived,—she wished she was dead +and buried, and drowned in the Red Sea, +and the grass over her grave, and shut +up in jail, and everything else."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Parlin soothed her with kind +words, but told the truth with every one.</p> + +<p>"No 'm," Jennie said; "it wasn't right<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +to take fruit-cake without leave, or tell +wrong stories either; she wouldn't any +more. Yes'm, she would try to be good—she +never had tried much.—Yes 'm, +she would ask God to help her. Should +you suppose He would do it?</p> + +<p>"Yes 'm, she would ask Him not to +let her have much temptation. She did +believe she would rather be a good girl—a +real good girl, like Prudy, <i>not like Dotty</i>!—than +to have a velvet dress with +spangles all over it."</p> + +<p>All this while Dotty did not waken. In +the morning she was surprised to see her +little bedfellow looking so cheerful.</p> + +<p>"I've told your grandmother all about +it," said Jennie with a smile. "I knew I +did wrong, but I don't believe I should +have meant to if you hadn't acted so your +<i>own</i> self—now that's a fact."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You haven't seen my grandmother," +returned Dotty, not noticing the last clause +of her friend's remark. "You dreamed it."</p> + +<p>"No, she came in here and forgave me. +She's the best woman in this world. What +do you think she said about you, Dotty +Dimple? She said there were other little +girls full as good as you are. There!"</p> + +<p>"O!"</p> + +<p>"Said you 'often did wrong,' that's <i>just</i> +what," added Jennie, correcting herself, +and making sure of the "white truth."</p> + +<p>Step by step Dotty came down from the +mountain-top, and, before breakfast was +ready, had led her visitor through the +morning dew to the playhouse under the +trees, chatting all the way as if nothing +had happened.</p> + +<p>It proved that the money belonged to +Abner. He had missed it several weeks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +before, and ever since that had been suspecting +old Daniel McQuilken, a day laborer, +of stealing it.</p> + +<p>"I'm ashamed of it now," said Abner to +Ruth, "though I didn't tell anybody but +you. I wish you'd mix a pitcher of sweetened +water, and let me take it out to the +field to old Daniel. I feel as if I wanted +to make it up to him some way."</p> + +<p>Ruth laughed; and when Abner came +into the house at ten o'clock, she had a +pitcher of molasses and water ready for +him, also a plate of cherry turnovers. +Flyaway insisted upon toddling over the +ground with one of the turnovers in her +apron.</p> + +<p>"Man," said she, when they reached the +field, and she saw the Irishman with his +funny red and white hair, "what's your +name, man?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>He wiped his face with his checked +shirt-sleeve, and took a turnover from her +hand, bowing very low as he did so.</p> + +<p>"Thank ee, my little lady; sense you're +plazed to ask me,—my name's Dannul."</p> + +<p>"O, are you?" said Flyaway, looking +up in surprise at the large and oddly-dressed +stranger. "Are you Daniel? My +mamma's just been reading about you. +You was in the lions' den—<i>wasn't</i> you, +Daniel?"</p> + +<p>Mr. McQuilken smiled at bareheaded, +flossy-haired little Katie, and replied, with +a wink at Abner,—</p> + +<p>"Fath, little lady, and I suppose I'm +that same Dannul; but 'twas so long ago +I've clane forgot aboot it entirely."</p> + +<p>"O, did you? Well, you <i>was</i> in the +lions' den, Daniel, but they didn't bite +you, you know, 'cause you prayed so long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +and so loud, with your winners up; and +then God wouldn't let 'em bite."</p> + +<p>Old Daniel laid both his huge hands +on Katie's head.</p> + +<p>"Swate little chirrub," said he, "don't +she look saintish?"</p> + +<p>Katie moved away; she did not like to +have her hair pulled, and Daniel was unconsciously +drawing it through the big +cracks in his fingers, as if he was waxing +silk.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll go home now," said she, +with a timid glance at the man whom the +lions did not bite; "they'll be spectin' +me."</p> + +<p>Abner and Daniel both watched the tiny +figure across the fields till Ruth came out +to meet it, and it fluttered into the east +door of the house.</p> + +<p>"There, she's safe," said Abner; "she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +needs as much looking after as a young +turkey."</p> + +<p>"She runs like a little sperrit, bliss her +swate eyes," said Daniel. "I had one as +pooty as her, but she's at Mary's fate, +Hivven rist her sowl!"</p> + +<p>The moment Flyaway reached the house, +she rushed into the parlor to tell her +mother the news.</p> + +<p>"The man you readed about in the +book, mamma, he's out there! Daniel, +that the lions didn't bite, mamma, 'cause +he prayed so long and so loud with his +winners up; he's out there—got a hat on."</p> + +<p>"O, no, my child; it is thousands of +years since Daniel was in the lions' den; +he died long and long ago."</p> + +<p>"But he said he did, mamma; he told +me so. I <i>fought</i> he was dead, mamma, +but he said he wasn't."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Clifford shook her head. "I dare +say his name is Daniel, but he was never +in a lion's den."</p> + +<p>Flyaway opened and closed her eyes in +the slowest and most impressive manner. +"Mamma," said she, solemnly, "does—folks—tell—lies?"</p> + +<p>It was an entirely now idea to the innocent +child: it stamped itself upon her +mind like a motto on warm sealing-wax, +"Folks—does—tell—lies."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clifford was sorry to see the look +of distrust on the young face.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, little Flyaway. I think +the man was in sport; he was only playing +with you, as Horace does sometimes, when +he calls himself your horse."</p> + +<p>Flyaway said no more, but she pressed +her eyelids together again, and felt that +she had been trifled with. Half an hour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +afterwards Prudy heard her repeating, +slowly, to herself, "Folks—does—tell—lies."</p> + +<p>"Why, here she is," called Dotty from +the piazza; "come, Fly; we're going wheel-barrowing."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, cousin Dotty," said +Mrs. Clifford; "Flyaway must put on a +clean frock; she is not coming home with +you, but you are to leave her at aunt +Martha's. I shall meet her there at dinner +time."</p> + +<p>"O, mamma, may I? I love you a hundred +rooms full. Let me go bring my +<i>buttoner bootner</i> quick's a minute."</p> + +<p>Flyaway was not long in getting ready. +She was never long about anything.</p> + +<p>"You said we might have all the money, +we three—didn't you, grandma?" asked +Dotty again, at the last moment, thinking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +how glad she was Jennie had gone home, +and would not claim a share.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied patient grandma for the +fifth time; "you may do anything you like +with it, except to buy colored candy."</p> + +<p>As they were trundling the wheelbarrow +out of the yard, Horace came up from the +garden.</p> + +<p>"Prudy," said he, with rather a shame-faced +glance at his favorite cousin, "you +girls will cut a pretty figure, parading +through the streets like a gang of pedlers. +Come, let me be the driver."</p> + +<p>"O, we thought you couldn't leave your +flower-beds, sir," replied Prudy, sweeping +a courtesy.</p> + +<p>"Well, the weeds <i>are</i> pretty tough, +ma'am; roots 'way down in China, and the +Emperor objects to parting with 'em; +but—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Poh! we don't need any boys," cried +the self-sustained Miss Dimple; "if your +hands are too soft, Prudy, you mustn't +push. Wait and see what Dotty Dimple +can do."</p> + +<p>"O, then, if you spurn me and my offer, +good by. I suppose my little Topknot +goes for <i>surplusage</i>," said Horace, who +liked now and then to puzzle Dotty with +a new word. He meant that Flyaway was +of no use, but rather in the way.</p> + +<p>"No, she needn't do any such thing," +returned Dotty. "Jump in, Fly, and sit +on the bag." And off moved the gay little +party, "the middle-aged sister" laughing +so she could hardly push, Flyaway dancing +up and down on the rag-bag, like a humming-bird +balancing itself on a twig; Grace +and Susy looking down from the "green +chamber" window, and saying to each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +other, with wounded family pride, "<i>Should</i> +you think grandma would allow it?" Out +in the street the young rag-merchants were +greeted by a cow lowing dismally. Flyaway, +in her rustic carriage, felt as secure +as the fabled "kid on the roof of a house;" +so she called out, "Don't cry, old cow; I +'shamed o' you."</p> + +<p>At this Prudy and Dotty laughed harder +than ever.</p> + +<p>"'Sh right up, old cow," said Flyaway, +standing on her "tipsy-toes," and making +a threatening gesture with her little arms; +"'Sh right up!—O, why don't that cow +mind in a minute?"</p> + +<p>In her earnestness the little girl pushed +the bag to one side, and Prudy and Dotty, +shaking with laughter, tipped over the +wheelbarrow. No harm was done except +to give Flyaway a dust-bath in her nice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +clean frock. Just as they were struggling +with the bag, to get it in again, they were +overtaken by a droll-looking equipage. It +was a long house on wheels, and instantly +reminded Dotty of Noah's ark.</p> + +<p>"O, a house a-ridin'! a house a-ridin'!" +exclaimed Flyaway, gazing after it with +the greatest astonishment.</p> + +<p>Dotty thought the world was going topsy-turvy. +She looked at the trees to see if +they stood fast in the ground. But Prudy +explained it as soon as she could stop +laughing.</p> + +<p>"Only a photograph saloon," said she. +"Didn't you ever see one before? We +don't have them in the city going round +so, but things are different in the country. +Let's watch and see where it stops."</p> + +<p>"O, dear me," said Dotty; "I shouldn't +want to live in a house that couldn't stand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +still! Stove tipping over, and the gingerbread +falling out of the oven! There, I +declare!"</p> + +<p>The look of wonder on Dotty's face was +so amusing that Prudy was obliged to +hold on to her sides.</p> + +<p>"There, look!" said she; "it has stopped +down by the corner. Now the man can +bake his gingerbread if he wants to, and +the stove won't tip over. Jump in, Flyaway, +and finish your ride."</p> + +<p>"No-o," said Flyaway, wavering between +her fear of the cow, some yards ahead, +and her fear of the rocking, unsteady +wheelbarrow. "Guess I won't get in no +more, Prudy; it wearies me."</p> + +<p>"Wearies you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes: don't you know what 'wearies' +means, Prudy? It means it makes me a—a—little—scared!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + +<p>And in her "weariness" Flyaway nestled +between her two cousins, and kept fast +hold of their skirts till the cow was safely +passed and the red store reached.</p> + +<p>"Bravo!" exclaimed Mr. Bradley, the +merchant, as he came out and dragged the +rag-bag into the store; "so you've taken +the business into your own hands, my little +women? Ah, this is a progressive +age! Walk in—walk in."</p> + +<p>Prudy blushed, Dotty smiled, and Flyaway +took off her hat, as she usually did +when she did not know what else to do.</p> + +<p>"Take some seats, young ladies," said +Mr. Bradley, placing three chairs in a row, +and bowing as if to the most distinguished +visitors. Two or three men, who were +lounging about the counter, looked on with +a smile. Dotty was very well satisfied, +for she enjoyed attention; but Prudy, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +was older, and had a more delicate sense +of propriety, blushed and cast down her +eyes. She had thought nothing of driving +a wheelbarrow through the street, but now, +for the first time, a feeling of mortification +came over her. If Mr. Bradley would +only keep quiet!</p> + +<p>"A fine morning, my young friends! +Rather warm, to be sure. And so you +have brought rags to sell? Would you +like the money for them, or do you think +we can make a trade with some articles +out of the store?"</p> + +<p>"Grandma said we could have the money +between us, we three," replied Dotty, with +refreshing frankness, "and buy anything we +please except red and yellow candy."</p> + +<p>"I want a <i>music</i>," said Flyaway, in an +eager whisper; "a music, and a ollinge, +and a pig."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Prudy, for the man with +a piece of court-plaster on his cheek was +certainly laughing.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bradley took the bag into another +room to weigh it. A boy was in there, +drawing molasses. "James," said Mr. Bradley, +"run down cellar, and bring up some +beer for these young ladies."</p> + +<p>There was a smile on James's face as he +drove the plug into the barrel. Prudy +saw it through the open door, and it went +to her heart. The cream beer was excellent, +but Prudy did not relish it. She and +Dotty had been whispering together.</p> + +<p>"We will take two thirds of the rags in +money, if you please," said Prudy, in such +a low tone that Mr. Bradley had to bend +his ear to hear.</p> + +<p>"Because," added Dotty, who wished to +have everything clearly explained, "because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +we want to have our tin-types taken, sir. +We saw a saloon riding on wheels, and we +thought we'd go there, and see if the man +wasn't ready to take pictures."</p> + +<p>"And our little cousin may use her third, +and buy something out of the store, if you +please," said the blushing Prudy.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>TIN-TYPES.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Bradley said he did not often allow +any one behind his counter, as all the boys +in the village could testify; but these +young ladies were welcome in any part of +the store.</p> + +<p>"That little one is the spryest child I +ever saw," said the man with the court-plaster, +as Flyaway hovered about the candy-jars, +like a butterfly over a flower-bed. +"She isn't a Yankee child—is she?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," replied Dotty, quickly; "she +is a <i>westerness</i>."</p> + +<p>She had heard Horace use the word, +and presumed it was correct.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I do wish Dotty would be more afraid +of strangers," thought Prudy. "I never +will take her anywhere again—with a +wheelbarrow."</p> + +<p>Flyaway fluttered around for a minute, +and then alighted upon her favorite sweet-meats, +"<i>pepnits</i>." She chose for her portion +a large amount of these, an harmonica, +and a sugar pig, which Dotty assured her +was not "colored." "Nothing but pink dots, +and those you can pick off."</p> + +<p>"The rags came to seventy-five cents, and +this young lady has now had her third; +here is the remainder," said Mr. Bradley, +smiling as he gave each of the little Parlins +some money, and bowed them out of +the store.</p> + +<p>"I'll put it in <i>my</i> porte-monnaie, sir; +my sister Prudy didn't bring hers."</p> + +<p>"What makes you talk so much, Dotty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +Dimple?" said Prudy, "that man has been +making sport of us all the time."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" said Dotty, solemnly. "I'm +'stonished at grandma Parlin letting us sell +rags! Wish this wheelbarrow was in the +<i>Stiftic Ocean</i>."</p> + +<p>"But it isn't, little sister, and the worst +of it is, we've got to take it to the photograph +saloon; it's so far home and back +again."</p> + +<p>"Got to take the ole <i>wheelbarrel</i> every +single where we go," pouted Flyaway, as +drearily as either of her cousins.</p> + +<p>"You needn't mind it, though," said +Dotty, giving the one-wheeled coach a hard +push; "a little girl that's going visiting, +and have succotash for dinner."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know I was. O, I <i>am</i> so glad! +What is it!"</p> + +<p>"Corn and beans. Aunt Martha's girl is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +the best cook,—makes cherry pudding. +Dear, dear, dear! Wish I was in Portland; +see 'f I wouldn't go to Tate Penny's, +and have some salmon and ice-cream!"</p> + +<p>Down the beautiful shaded street walked +the three little rag-pedlers; and it did +seem as if they were met by all the people +in town, from the minister down to the +barefoot boys going fishing. At last they +arrived at the house on wheels.</p> + +<p>"Now I'll tell you, Fly, what we're going +to do," said Prudy. "Dotty and I +want to have our tin-types taken, to give +to grandma, as a pleasant surprise. We'll +pay for yours too, if you'll sit for it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Tin-tybe</i>? Of course, indeed I will. +Won't I have nuffin to do but just sit +still? But I'd rather be gentle (generous), +and give it to my mamma."</p> + +<p>"Well, to your mamma, then. What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +will be the harm, Dotty, in leaving this +wheelbarrow out here at the door?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Dotty; "I hope +there won't any 'bugglers' come along, +and steal it."</p> + +<p>"I shall watch it," replied Prudy, with +a care-worn look; and they all went up +the steps and entered the little picture-gallery.</p> + +<p>The windows were closed, and the odor of +chemicals was so stifling, that the children +almost gasped for breath. The artist seemed +glad to see them, made no remarks about +the wheelbarrow, though he must have noticed +it, and said he would be ready in +a few minutes. While they waited, they +walked about the room, looking at the +pictures on the walls.</p> + +<p>"See," said Dotty; "there is Abby Grant, +with her hair frizzed. Prudy" (in a low<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +whisper), "you don't s'pose he will carry +us off—do you? I forgot about the wheels, +or I wouldn't have come! O, see that +little boy; hands as big as my father's! +Here comes Jennie Vance; I'm going to +call her in."</p> + +<p>Dotty had forgotten her contempt for +her lively friend. Jennie came in, twirling +the rim of her hat, and looking quite gratified +by this mark of friendship in Dotty.</p> + +<p>"Going to have your picture taken, Dotty +Dimple? Well, so I would if I was as +pretty as you are. O, dear" (with a sly +peep at the glass), "I wish I wasn't so +homely."</p> + +<p>Now Jennie was a handsome child, and +knew it well; but Dotty took her wail in +earnest. "Why, Jennie," said she, with +ready sympathy, "I don't think you're so +<i>very</i> homely; not half so homely, any +way, as some of the girls at Portland."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jennie frowned and bit her thumb. Prudy +smiled "behind her mouth," but Dotty +was serenely unconscious that she had +given offence. By this time the artist was +ready, and thought it best to try Flyaway +first; for he had had enough experience +with children to see at a glance that this +one would be as difficult to "take" as a +bird on the wing. Prudy made sure the +wheelbarrow was safe, and then turned to +arrange her little cousin.</p> + +<p>"Here, put your hands down in your +lap."</p> + +<p>Up went the little hands to the flossy +hair. "It won't stay, Prudy, <i>or nelse</i> you +tie it."</p> + +<p>"I shall brush it, the very last minute, +Flyaway. All you must do is sit still. +Mayn't she look at your watch, sir, just +to keep her eyes from moving?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No matter what she looks at," replied +the artist; "but she must keep that little +head of hers straight."</p> + +<p>His tone was firm; he hoped to awe +her into quietness. Flyaway was frightened, +and clung to Prudy for protection. +"Don't the gemplum love little gee—urls?" +said she, in a voice as low and sad as a +dying dove's.</p> + +<p>Mr. Poindexter laughed, and stroked the +beautiful floss lovingly.</p> + +<p>"Just turn your sweet little face this +way, dear child; that's all."</p> + +<p>"O, my shole! Must I turn my face to +my back!" said Flyaway, bewildered.</p> + +<p>"No, no; look at this picture on the +wall. See what it is, so you can tell your +mother."</p> + +<p>"It's a bridge, and a man, and a fish," +said Flyaway, flashing a glance at it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There, smooth your forehead; now you +will do." And so she did, for two seconds, +till she began to squint, to see whether it +was a fish or a dog; and that picture was +spoiled.</p> + +<p>Next time she tried so very hard to sit +still that she swayed to and fro like a +slender-stemmed flower when the wind goes +over it. The picture was blurred.</p> + +<p>"O, Fly, you must keep your shoulders +still," said Prudy, looking as anxious as +the old woman in the shoe.</p> + +<p>"I didn't never want to come here," +said the child; "when I sit so still, Prudy, +it 'most gives me a pain."</p> + +<p>"But you haven't sat still yet, not a +minute."</p> + +<p>"I could, you know, Prudy, <i>or nelse</i> I +didn't have to breeve," groaned Flyaway, +lifting her eyebrows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Another one spoiled," said the artist, +trying to smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Dotty, who felt none of the +care. "Once it was her head, and then it +was her shoulders; and now her eyebrows +are all of a quirk."</p> + +<p>Poor little Flyaway felt as much out of +place as a grape-vine would feel, if it had +to make believe it was a pine tree.</p> + +<p>"Wisht I'd said 'no,' 'stead o' 'yes,'" +murmured she, puckering her mouth to the +size of a very small button-hole.</p> + +<p>"This will never do," said the patient +artist, almost in despair. "Hold your little +chin up, there's a lady. Don't put it +in your neck. Now! Ready!"</p> + +<p>But at the critical moment there was a +jerk, and Flyaway cried out,—</p> + +<p>"I've got a sneeze; but, O, dear, I can't +sneeze it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, where's that head of yours, little +Tot? I declare, I believe it goes on +wires, like a jumping-jack."</p> + +<p>"My head's wrong side up," said Flyaway, +mournfully; "my mother said it was."</p> + +<p>Mr. Poindexter laughed: it was impossible +to be vexed with such a gentle child +as Flyaway. "Really, my young friends," +said he, rubbing his stained fingers through +his hair, "I believe I shall be obliged to +give it up for the present. Have the +child's mother come with her to-morrow, +and we'll do better, I am sure."</p> + +<p>With the likenesses of the other girls he +succeeded very well; and Prudy and Dotty +were glad to find, that after paying for +theirs, they each had ten cents left.</p> + +<p>"Now, Fly, we will go to aunt Martha's."</p> + +<p>But Fly was amusing herself by scraping +dirt out of the cracks of her boots with a +bit of glass.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dotty won't be to aunt Marfie's. I +don't want to stay where Dotty isn't."</p> + +<p>"But your mamma will be there, you +know; and I told you what they are going +to have for dinner."</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>secretary</i>," said Flyaway, proud +of her memory. "She is a very nice <i>cooker</i>, +but you'll have hard work to get me +to go."</p> + +<p>She drawled out the words languidly, and +seemed on the point of going to sleep.</p> + +<p>"O, girls, girls, girls," cried Prudy, +opening the door and looking out, "our +wheelbarrow is gone—it's gone!"</p> + +<p>"It's bugglers; I told you so," said Dotty.</p> + +<p>Mr. Poindexter was quite amused by his +little sitters. "I saw that you came in a +coach," said he, "and without any horses."</p> + +<p>"Our grandmother said we might," spoke +up Dotty, anxious to divert all blame from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +herself. "She said we might; but Prudy +ought to have gone straight home. I knew +it all the time."</p> + +<p>"I dare say some one has driven off +your carriage in sport," said the kind-hearted +photographer; "never fear."</p> + +<p>"O, no, sir; it was new and red. Folks +wanted it to haul stones in, and that was +why they took it," said Dotty, wrathfully.</p> + +<p>The children looked up street and down +street. No wheelbarrow in sight. "We +must go to aunt Martha's, and then come +back and hunt for it, if we have to go +without our dinners," they said. They +took Flyaway between them, and marched +her off. She was almost as passive as a +rag baby, ready to drop down anywhere, +and fall asleep. "'Cause I <i>am</i> so tired," +said she.</p> + +<p>Aunt Martha cordially invited the two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +cousins to dine. They thanked her, but +no, they must find the wheelbarrow. "We +shan't say, certain positive, that bugglers +took it, but we s'pose so," said Dotty, +softening her judgment, as she remembered +her mistake about the "screw-up pencil." +They went home through the broiling sun, +but found no trace of the wheelbarrow.</p> + +<p>"It's a dreadful thing," said Prudy, lazily, +"but I don't feel as bad as I should +if I was fairly awake."</p> + +<p>"Me, too," yawned Dotty; "I wish we +could lie down under the trees, and go +to sleep."</p> + +<p>They had been a long while in the close +saloon, inhaling ether, and this was the +cause of their languor. As they entered +the yard they met Horace.</p> + +<p>"O, dear," said Dotty, trying to look +as sorry as she knew she ought to feel, +"that wheel—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed Prudy.</p> + +<p>There, under a syringa tree in the garden, +stood the wheelbarrow. The girls +rubbed their eyes, and wondered if they +were walking in their sleep.</p> + +<p>"That thing trundled itself in here about +half an hour ago," said Horace, gravely. +"You may know I was surprised to look +up, and see it coming without hands, just +rolling along like a velocipede."</p> + +<p>Dotty eyed the runaway wheelbarrow stupidly. +"I don't believe it," said she, flatly.</p> + +<p>Horace laughed; and then the fog cleared +away from Dotty's mind in a minute.</p> + +<p>"Why, girls," said he, "how long did +you think I could wait to haul off my +weeds? You were gone two hours. I +watched you on your parade, and followed +at a respectful distance."</p> + +<p>"There, Horace Clifford!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> + +<p>"In order not to disturb the procession. +Then, when I saw you going into the +saloon, I went up and claimed my wheelbarrow. +Didn't want it any longer—did +you?"</p> + +<p>"No, and never want it again," said +Prudy.</p> + +<p>"By the way, here's a conundrum for +you, girls, Why's a wheelbarrow like a +potato?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't think it was like it at all," +answered Dotty. "Where did you read +that?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't read it anywhere. I've given +up books since I undertook gardening. +Never was much of a bookworm. Make +a very respectable <i>earth-worm</i>; ask aunt +Louise if I don't."</p> + +<p>The little girls entered the house, too +tired and sleepy to make any reply.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>WAKING.</h3> + + +<p>Flyaway was very much sleepier than +either of her cousins, and really did not +know where she was, or what she was +doing. Lonnie Adams, a boy of Horace's +age, tried to interest her. He made believe +the old cat was a sheep, killed her with an +iron spoon, and hung her up by the hind +legs for mutton, all which Pussy bore like +a lamb, for she had been killed a great +many times, and was used to it. But it +did not please Flyaway; neither did aunt +Martha's collection of shells and pictures +call forth a single smile. There was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +beautiful clock in the parlor, and the pendulum +was in the form of a little boy +swinging; but Flyaway would not have +cared if it had been a gallows, and the +boy hanging there dead.</p> + +<p>Uncle John took her on his knee, asked +her what her name was, where she lived, +and whom she loved best; but she only +answered she "didn't know." She might +have been Daniel in the lions' den, or Joseph +in the pit, for all the difference to her.</p> + +<p>"How very singular!" said aunt Martha. +"I wish her mother would come. Do feel +her pulse, John, and see if it is fever."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the kind," said uncle John, +as the little one's head dropped on his +shoulder. "Overcome by the heat; that's +all. I'll just lay her down on the sofa."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Clifford came, she was surprised +to find the child fast asleep. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +would not have her wakened for dinner; +so Flyaway missed her "secretary." But +when it was three o'clock, and she still +slept, Mrs. Clifford feared something was +wrong, and decided to take her home. +Uncle John had "Lightning Dodger" harnessed, +and brought around to the door.</p> + +<p>"Wake up, little daughter," said Mrs. +Clifford; "we are going home now."</p> + +<p>Flyaway looked around vacantly, her eyes +as heavy as drenched violets.</p> + +<p>"You must come again, and stay longer," +said aunt Martha; "it is hardly polite not +to let little girls have their dinners—do +you think it is?"</p> + +<p>"Yes 'm," replied Flyaway, faintly. She +did not understand a word any one said; +it all sounded as indistinct as the roaring +of a sea-shell. By the time she was lifted +into her mother's arms in the carriage, she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +was nodding again. When they reached +home she scarcely spoke, but, dropping +upon the sofa, went on with her dreams. +It was odd for Flyaway to take a nap in +the daytime, and such a long one as this!</p> + +<p>"It must be a very warm day," said +Mrs. Parlin, "for Prudy and Dotty have +been asleep too."</p> + +<p>"Where did they go after they sold the +rags?" asked Mrs. Clifford; "they all +look pale."</p> + +<p>"To a photograph saloon. Here are the +tin-types they brought home to me," replied +grandma, producing them from her +pocket, with a gratified smile.</p> + +<p>"Very good, mother—don't you think +so? I would be glad to have as truthful +a likeness of our little Katie; but she must +be taken asleep. I wonder, by the way, +if there wasn't something in the air of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +saloon which made the children all so languid?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, Maria; very likely it was +the ether. Now you speak of it, I am confident +it must have been the ether."</p> + +<p>"I knew just such an instance before," +said Mrs. Clifford; "and that is why I +happened to think of it now."</p> + +<p>About four o'clock Flyaway came to her +senses.</p> + +<p>"Where's the wheelbarrel?" said she, +rubbing her eyes.</p> + +<p>"O, Horace came and took it," said +Dotty. "Hasn't this been the queerest +day!"</p> + +<p>"You said you's goin' to take me to +aunt Marfie's; why didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"O, we did; we took you, you know."</p> + +<p>"Dotty Dimpul, I shouldn't think you'd +make any believe."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm not 'making any believe'—am I, +Prudy?"</p> + +<p>"No, Fly, she isn't. We pulled you +along,—don't you remember?—and you +hung back, and said, 'I <i>am</i> so tired.'"</p> + +<p>"I don't 'member," said Flyaway, slowly +and sadly. "I shouldn't think <i>you'd</i> make +any believe, Prudy."</p> + +<p>"We'll ask your mamma, then; she tells +the truth. Aunt 'Riah, didn't we take +Flyaway to aunt Martha's this morning, +and didn't you go there too?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Mrs. Clifford; "but it +wasn't much of a visit,—was it, darling!—when +you slept most of the time, and +didn't have a mouthful of dinner?"</p> + +<p>Flyaway sighed heavily, and looked at +her mother. "O, mamma! mamma!"</p> + +<p>"What is it, dear?"</p> + +<p>"O, mamma," repeated she, sorrowfully, +"why did you say those words?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What words, darling?"</p> + +<p>"Those naughty, naughty words, mamma." +Flyaway's gentle eyes were afloat. +She crossed the room, and knelt by Mrs. +Clifford's chair, looking up at her with an +expression of anguish.</p> + +<p>"That man, he wasn't in the lions' den, +that prayed so long and so loud, mamma."</p> + +<p>"Well, dear."</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> telled a wrong story to me, mamma."</p> + +<p>"My darling baby," said Mrs. Clifford, +catching Flyaway in her arms, "do you +think your own dear mother is telling you +a wrong story this minute?"</p> + +<p>"'Cause, 'cause, mamma, I didn't go to +aunt Marfie's!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you did, my precious daughter; +but you were asleep and dreaming. We +brought you home in the carriage, and +you didn't know it. Can't you believe it +because I say so?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> + +<p>Flyaway made no reply except to curl +her head under Mrs. Clifford's arm, like a +frightened chicken under its mother's wing. +Mrs. Clifford looked troubled. She was +afraid the little one could not be made to +understand it. Horace came to her aid.</p> + +<p>"Hold up your head, little Topknot, +and hear brother talk. Once there were +three little girls, and they all travelled +round with a wheelbarrow. By and by +they came to a man's house on wheels."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Flyaway, starting up; "I +'member."</p> + +<p>"And the wee girl, with dove's eyes—"</p> + +<p>"O, O, that's me!"</p> + +<p>"She couldn't keep still, and couldn't +get any picture."</p> + +<p>"No, <i>tin-tybe</i>; 'cause—'cause—"</p> + +<p>"And all the while there was something +in the man's house they kept breathing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +into their noses, and it made them grow +sleepy."</p> + +<p>"Just so?" asked Flyaway, sniffing.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and by and by the little one with +dove's eyes was as stupid as that woman +you saw lying down in the street with the +pig looking at her."</p> + +<p>"Me? Was I a <i>drunken</i>?" said Flyaway, +in a subdued tone.</p> + +<p>"O, no," put in Dotty; "it wasn't whiskey, +it was <i>either</i>; and I didn't know much +more than you did, Fly Clifford. That +was why I lost your money, Prudy; I +just about know it was."</p> + +<p>Flyaway began to understand. The look +of fear and distrust went out of her eyes, +and she threw her arms round her mother's +neck, kissing her again and again.</p> + +<p>"<i>'Haps</i> I did go to aunt Marfie's, mamma; +<i>'haps</i> I was asleep!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's right, Miss Topknot," cried Horace; +"now your brother'll carry you pickaback."</p> + +<p>A little while afterward Mrs. Clifford +began a letter to her husband.</p> + +<p>"I am going to tell papa about his little +girl—that she is very well."</p> + +<p>"O, no, you needn't, mamma," said +Flyaway, laughing; "papa knows it. I +was well at home."</p> + +<p>"What shall I tell him, then?"</p> + +<p>Flyaway thought a moment.</p> + +<p>"Tell him all the folks doesn't tell lies," +said she, earnestly; "only but the naughty +folks tells lies."</p> + +<p>So that was settled; and Flyaway decided +to write off the whole story, and send +to her father—a mixture of little sharp +zigzags, curves, and dots. When Horace +asked her what these meant, she said "she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +couldn't 'member now; but papa would +know."</p> + +<p>There was another matter which troubled +grandma Parlin somewhat. Dotty had gone +to the store, after dinner, with two ten-cent +pieces in her porte-monnaie. She +had bought for herself some jujube paste, +but in returning had lost the other dime.</p> + +<p>"Grandma, do you think that is fair?" +said Prudy. "She has lost my money, but +she doesn't care at all; only laughs. I was +going to put it with some more I had, and +buy mother a collar."</p> + +<p>"No, it is not right," replied grandma. +"I will talk with her, and try to make +her willing to give you some of hers in +return."</p> + +<p>Ah, grandma Parlin, you little knew +what you were undertaking when you +called Dotty Dimple into the back parlor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +next morning, and began to talk about +that money! Children's minds are strange +things. They are like bottles with very +small necks; and when you pour in an +idea, you must pour very slowly, a drop +at a time, or it all runs over. Dotty did +not know much more about money than +Flyaway.</p> + +<p>"My child," said her grandmother, "it +seems you have lost something which belonged +to Prudy."</p> + +<p>Dotty looked up carelessly from the picture +of a rose she held in her hand, which +she meant to adorn with yellow paint.</p> + +<p>"O, yes 'm; you mean that money."</p> + +<p>"There are several things you don't +know, Dotty; and one is, that you have no +right to lose other people's things."</p> + +<p>"No 'm."</p> + +<p>"The money you dropped out of your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +porte-monnaie, yesterday, was Prudy's, not +yours; and what are you going to do about +it?"</p> + +<p>"Let me see; my mother'll come to-morrow; +I'll ask her to give me some +more."</p> + +<p>"But is that right? Dotty lost the +money; must not Dotty be the one to give +it back?"</p> + +<p>"O, grandma, I can't find it! The wind +blew it away, or a horse stepped on it. I +can't find it, certainly."</p> + +<p>"No; but you have money of your own. +You can give some of that to Prudy."</p> + +<p>"Why-ee!" moaned Dotty. "Prudy's +got ever so much. O, grandma, she has; +and my box is so empty it can't but just +jingle."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear, that has nothing to do +with the case. If Prudy has a great deal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +of money, you have no right to lose any +of it. Don't you think you ought to give +it back?"</p> + +<p>"O, no, grandma—I don't; because she +doesn't need it! I wish she'd give <i>me</i> ten +cents, for I do need it; I haven't but a +tinty, tonty mite."</p> + +<p>Here Dotty threw herself on the sofa, +the picture of despair. Grandma was perplexed. +Had she been pouring ideas into +Dotty's mind too fast? What should she +say next?</p> + +<p>"My dear little girl, suppose Prudy +should lose some of your money—what +then?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't like it at all, grandma. Don't +let her go to my box—will you?"</p> + +<p>"Selfish little girl!" said grandma, looking +keenly at Dotty's troubled face. "You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +would expect Prudy to return every cent, +if she were in your place."</p> + +<p>"Because—because—grandma—"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and when I explain your duty to +you, you don't understand me. You would +understand if you were not so selfish!"</p> + +<p>Dotty winced.</p> + +<p>"Don't come to me again, and complain +of Jennie Vance."</p> + +<p>Dotty could not meet her grandmother's +searching gaze: it seemed to cut into her +heart like a sharp blade.</p> + +<p>"Am I as bad as Jennie Vance? Yes, +just us bad; and grandma knows it. But +then," said she aloud, though very faintly, +"Prudy needn't have put it in my porte-monnaie; +she might have known I'd lose +it."</p> + +<p>"Dotty, I am not going to say any more +about it now. You may think it over to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>-day, +and decide for yourself whether you +are following the Golden Rule. Or, if you +choose, you may wait and talk with your +mother."</p> + +<p>"Yes 'm." Dotty was glad to escape +into the kitchen.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>AUNT POLLY'S STORY.</h3> + + +<p>Flyaway sat on the kitchen floor, feeding +Dinah with a roasted apple. As often +as Dinah refused a teaspoonful, she put +it into her own mouth, saying, with a wise +nod, "My child, she's sick; hasn't any +<i>appletite</i>."</p> + +<p>Out of doors it was raining heartily. It +seemed as if the "upper deep" was tipping +over, and pouring itself into the lap of the +earth.</p> + +<p>"O, Ruthie," sighed Dotty Dimple, "my +mother won't come while it's such weather. +Do you s'pose 'twill ever clear off?" +[Blank Page]</p> + +<p class="center"><img class="img1" src="images/image_06.jpg" alt="Flyaway and Dinah." width="400" height="665" /><br /> +<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Flyaway and Dinah.</span></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," replied Ruth, trimming a +pie briskly; "it only began last night at +five."</p> + +<p>"Why, Ruthie Dillon! it began three +weeks ago, by the clock! Don't you know +that day I couldn't go visiting? Only +sometimes it stops a while, and then begins +again."</p> + +<p>"If you're going to have the blues, Miss +Dotty, I'll thank you kindly just to take +yourself out of this kitchen. Polly Whiting +is here, and she is as much as a body +can endures in this dull weather."</p> + +<p>"It's pitiful 'bout the rain, Dotty; but +you mustn't scold when God sended it," +said Flyaway, dropping the feeble Dinah, +and pursuing her cousin round the room +with a pin. In a minute they were both +laughing gayly, till Flyaway caught herself +on her little rocking-chair, and "got<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +a <i>torn</i> in her apron." That ended the +sport.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do to make myself happy?" +said Dotty, musingly; for she wished +to put off all thought of Prudy's money. +"I should like to roll out some thimble-cookies, +but Ruthie hasn't much patience +this morning. I never dare do things when +her lips are squeezed together so."</p> + +<p>But Flyaway dared do things. She took +up the kitty, and played to her on the +"music," till Ruth's ears were "on edge." +After this the harmonica fell into a dish +of soft soap, and in cleaning it with ashes +and a sponge, the holes became stopped.</p> + +<p>"It won't <i>muse</i> no more," said Flyaway, +in sad surprise, blowing into the keys in +vain. Ruth loved the little child too well +to say she was glad of it.</p> + +<p>Flyaway's next dash was into the sink<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +cupboard, where she found a wooden bowl +of sand. This she dragged out, and filling +her "nipperkin" with water, carried them +both to Ruth, saying, in her sweet, pleading +way,—</p> + +<p>"<i>If</i> you please, Ruthie, will you tell +<i>how</i> God does when he takes the 'little +drops of water and little grains of sand,' +and makes 'the mighty <i>oshum</i>' with um, +'<i>and</i> the pleasant land'?"</p> + +<p>Ruthie had no answer but a kiss and a +smile.</p> + +<p>"There, away with you into the nursery, +both of you. I know Polly Whiting is +lonesome without you."</p> + +<p>Off went the children, Flyaway "with +a heart for any fate," but Dotty still oppressed +by the shadow of the ten-cent +piece.</p> + +<p>"If I don't give it to Prudy, will I be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +dishonest? Will I be as bad as Jennie +Vance?"</p> + +<p>When they entered the nursery, Miss +Polly was standing before the mirror, arranging +her black cap, and weaving into +her collar a square black breast-pin, which +aunt Louise said looked like a gravestone. +Flyaway peeped in too, placing her smooth +pink cheek beside Miss Polly's wrinkled +one.</p> + +<p>"I don't look alike, Miss Polly," said +she; "and you don't look alike too."</p> + +<p>Certainly not; no more alike than a +blush-rose bud and a dried apple.</p> + +<p>"What makes the red go out of folks' +cheeks when they grow old, and the wrinkles +crease in, like the pork in baked +beans?" queried Dotty.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't tell you," replied the good +lady, giving a pat to her cap, and settling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +the bows carefully; "but if you had asked +how I happened to grow old before my +time, I should say I'd had such a hard +chance through life, and trouble always +leaves its mark."</p> + +<p>"Does it? O, dear! I have trouble,—ever +so much; will it quirk my face all +up, like yours?"</p> + +<p>"You have trouble, Dotty Parlin? Haven't +you found out yet that the lines have fallen +to you in pleasant places?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean by lines," +said Dotty, thinking of fish-hooks; "but +when it rains, and folks want me to do +things that are real hard, then why, I'm +blue, now truly."</p> + +<p>"Then we're blue, now truly," added +Flyaway by way of finish.</p> + +<p>"What would you do, children, if you +were driven about, as I used to be, from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +post to pillar, with no mother to care for +you?"</p> + +<p>"If I hadn't no mamma, I could go barefoot, +like a dog," said Flyaway, brightening +with the new idea; "I could paddle in +the water too, and eat pepnits."</p> + +<p>"O, child! But what if you had neither +father nor mother?"</p> + +<p>"Then," said Flyaway coolly, "I should +go to some house where there <i>was</i> a father'n +mother."</p> + +<p>"Why, you little heartless thing! But +that is always the way with children; their +parents set their lives by them, but not a +'thank you' do they get for their love! +Try a pinch," continued she, offering her +snuff-box to the little folks, who both declined. +This Polly thought was strange. +They must like snuff if they followed the +natural bent of their noses.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, Katie, as I was saying, you little +know how your mother loves you."</p> + +<p>"Yes um, I do. She loves me more 'n +the river, and the sky, and the bridge. +My papa loves me too, only but he don't +<i>say</i> nuffin' 'bout it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; just so," said Miss Polly, +who talked to the simplest infants just as +she did to grown people. "One of these +days you will look back, and see how +happy you are now, and be sorry you +didn't prize your parents while you had +them."</p> + +<p>Flyaway rested her rosy cheek on Polly's +knee, and watched the gray knitting-work +as it came out of the basket. She did not +understand the sad woman's words, but +was attracted by her loving nature, and +liked to sit near her, a minute at a time, +and have her hair stroked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There, now," said Dotty, "you are +knitting, Miss Polly; and it's so lonesome +all round the house, with mother not coming +till to-morrow, that I should think you +might tell—well, tell an anecdote."</p> + +<p>"I don't know where to begin, or what to +say," replied Polly, falling into deep thought.</p> + +<p>"I just believe she does sigh at the end +of every needle," mused Dotty; "I'm going +to keep 'count. That's once."</p> + +<p>"Please, Miss Polly, tell a <i>nanny-goat</i>," +said Flyaway, dancing around the room. +"Please, Miss Polly, and I'll kiss you a +pretty little kiss."</p> + +<p>"Twice," whispered Dotty.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you something that will +pass for an anecdote, on condition that +you call me <i>aunt</i> Polly; that name warms +my heart a great deal better than <i>Miss</i> +Polly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Three!" said Dotty aloud. "We will, +honestly, if we can think of it, aunt Polly.—Four."</p> + +<p>"Le'me gwout for the sidders, first," +said busy Flyaway.</p> + +<p>"There, aunt Polly, you forgot it that +time! You sprang up quick to shut the +door, and forgot it."</p> + +<p>"Forgot what?"</p> + +<p>"You didn't sigh at the end of your +needle."</p> + +<p>"Why, Dotty, how you do talk! Any +one would suppose, by that, I was in the +habit of sighing! I have a stitch in my +side, child, and it makes me draw a long +breath now and then; that's all."</p> + +<p>Flyaway was back again,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"With step-step light, and tip-tap slight<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Against the door."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>"Come in," said Dotty, "and see if you +can keep still two whole minutes; but I +know you can't."</p> + +<p>Miss Polly let her work fall in her lap, +and drew up the left sleeve of her black +alpaca dress. "Do you see that scar, +children?"</p> + +<p>It was just below the elbow,—an irregular, +purple mark, about the size of a new +cent.</p> + +<p>"Why, Miss—why, aunt Polly!"</p> + +<p>"I've got one on me too," said Flyaway, +pulling at her apron sleeve; "Hollis +did it with the tongs."</p> + +<p>"It can't be; not a scar like mine."</p> + +<p>"Bigger 'n' larger 'n' yours; only but I +can't find it," said Flyaway, carefully twisting +around her dainty white arm, which +Polly kissed, and said was as sweet as a +peach. "Bigger 'n' larger 'n' yours. Where's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +it gone to? O, I feegot—'twas on my +<i>sleeve</i>, and I never put it on to-day."</p> + +<p>"You're a droll child, not to know the +difference between scars and dirt! When +I was almost as young and quite as innocent, +that wicked little boy bit me, and +I shall carry the marks of his teeth to my +grave." With another lingering glance at +the purple mark, Polly drew down her +sleeve, sighed, and began to knit again.</p> + +<p>"Was it the woman's child that made +you dig, that you told about last summer?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I was a bound girl."</p> + +<p>"Bound to what?" Dotty was trying +to drown the remembrance of Prudy's ten +cents; so she wished to keep Miss Polly +talking.</p> + +<p>"Bound to Mrs. Potter till I was eighteen +years old. Her husband kept public house. +They made a perfect slave of me. When<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +I was twelve years old I had to milk three +cows, besides spinning my day's work on +the flax-wheel. And very often all I had +for supper was brown bread and skim milk. +I didn't have any grandfather's house to +go to, with a seat in the trees, and a boat +on the water, and a swing, and a summer +house, and a <i>crocky-set</i> (croquet set). +Not I!"</p> + +<p>Flyaway was cutting paper dolls with all +speed, but her sweet little face was drawn +into curves of pity.</p> + +<p>"Too bad! Naughty folks to give you +<i>skilmick</i>."</p> + +<p>"I had to scour all the knives too. I +did it by drawing them back and forth into +a sand-bank back of the house. This Isaac +I speak of was a lazy boy, and very unkind +to me; but his mother wouldn't hear a +word against him. One day I brushed a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +traveller's coat, and got a silver quarter for +my trouble. I thought everything of that +quarter. I had never had so much money +before in my life. I had half a mind to +put it in the Savings Bank; 'and who +knows,' thought I, 'but I can add more to +it, one of these days, and buy my time.'"</p> + +<p>"Why, Miss Polly, I didn't know you +could <i>buy</i> time!"</p> + +<p>"But you knew you could throw it away, +I suppose," said Polly, with a sad smile. +"What I mean is this: I wanted to pay +Mrs. Potter some money, so I could go +free before I was eighteen."</p> + +<p>"Then you would be <i>unbound</i>, aunt +Polly."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but one day Isaac found my +money,—I kept it in an old tobacco-box,—and, +just to hector me, he kept tossing +it up in the air, till all of a sudden it fell +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>through a crack in the floor; and that was +the last I saw of it."</p> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/image_07.jpg" alt=""HERE HE IS!"" width="400" height="263" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"HERE HE IS!"</span></p> + +<p>"What a naughty, careless boy!"</p> + +<p>After Dotty had said this, she blushed.</p> + +<p>"Naughty, careless boy!" echoed Flyaway. +"Here he is!" holding up a paper +doll shaped very much like a whale, with +the fin divided for legs, the ears of a cat, +and the arms of a windmill. "Here he is!"</p> + +<p>"He didn't look much like that," said +Polly, laughing. "He had plenty of money +of his own, and I tried to make him give +me back a quarter; but do you believe he +wouldn't, not even a ninepence? And +when I teased him, that was the time he +bit my arm."</p> + +<p>"He oughtn't to bitted your arm, course, +indeed not!"</p> + +<p>"But, aunt Polly," faltered Dotty, whose +efforts to forget the ten-cent piece had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +proved worse than useless, "but it didn't +do Isaac any good to lose your money +down a crack."</p> + +<p>"No, it was sheer mischief."</p> + +<p>"And if it doesn't do folks any good to +lose things, you know, why, what's the +use—to—to—go and get his own money +to pay it back with?—Isaac I mean."</p> + +<p>"What do you say, Dotty Parlin? You, +a child that goes to Sabbath school! Don't +you know it is a sin to steal a pin? And +if we lose or injure other people's things, +and don't make it up to them, we're as +good as thieves."</p> + +<p>"As good?"</p> + +<p>"As bad, then."</p> + +<p>"But s'posin'—s'posin' folks lose things +when they <i>don't</i> toss 'em up in the air, +and don't mean to,—the wind, you know, +or a kind of an accident, Miss Polly,—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"And s'posin' I didn't have any more +money 'n I wanted myself, and Prudy had +the most—H'm—"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Then it isn't as bad as thieves; now is +it? She's got the most. Prudy's older 'n +I am—"</p> + +<p>"Honesty is honesty," said Miss Polly, +firmly, "in young or old. If you've lost +your sister's money, you must make it up +to her."</p> + +<p>"O, must I, Miss Polly? Such a tinty-tonty +mite of money as I've got,—only +sixty-five cents."</p> + +<p>"Honesty is honesty," repeated Miss +Polly, "in rich or poor."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! will my mother say so, too?"</p> + +<p>"Your mother is on the right side, Dotty. +The Bible tells us to 'deal justly.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +There's nothing said there about excusing +poor folks."</p> + +<p>"O, dear! do you s'pose the Bible expects +me to pay Prudy Parlin ten cents, +when it just blew out of my hands, and +didn't do me a speck of good?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Dotty, you surprise me! Any +one would think you were brought up a +heathen! If you were a small child I +could understand it."</p> + +<p>"I knew I should have to do it," moaned +Dotty.</p> + +<p>"I advise you to lose no time about it, +then; that is the cause of your blues, I +guess. We can't be happy out of the line +of our duty," sighed Miss Polly, who regarded +herself as a pattern of cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," +said Dotty, resolutely; "I'm going right +off to pay that money to Prudy, and then +I'll be in the line of my duty."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>FULL NIPPERKIN.</h3> + + +<p>Prudy scorned to take the ten cents. +"Did you think your 'middle-aged' sister +would do such a thing, when she has more +money than you have, Dotty Dimple? If +you're only sorry, that's all I ask. I didn't +like to have you laugh, as if you didn't +care."</p> + +<p>"But, Prudy, I want to be honest."</p> + +<p>"And so you have been, dear child," +said grandma Parlin, with an approving +smile. "If Prudy chooses now to give you +the money, receive it as a present, and +say, 'Thank you.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"O, thank you, Prudy Parlin, over and +over, and up to the moon," cried Dotty, +throwing her arms around her kind sister's +neck. "I'll never lose anything of yours +again; no, never, never!"</p> + +<p>This lesson was laid away on a shelf in +Dotty's memory. Close beside it was another +lesson, still more wholesome.</p> + +<p>"Dotty Dimple isn't the best girl that +ever lived. She had to be talked to and +talked to, before she was willing to do +right. She isn't any better than Jennie +Vance, after all. Why did she pray that +naughty prayer, just to make Jennie feel +bad? God must have thought it was very +strange!"</p> + +<p>Grandma saw that Dotty's "blues" were +dissolving like a morning mist; still she +knew the child was in need of patchwork, +and told her so.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let us all take our work," said she, +"and sit together in the nursery, so we +may forget the dull weather."</p> + +<p>Grace brought her piqué apron down +stairs to make, Susy her tatting, Prudy a +handkerchief, Dotty a square of patchwork, +while Flyaway danced about for a needle +and thread.</p> + +<p>"What a happy group!" said Mrs. Clifford, +looking up from her sewing. She +had forgotten Polly Whiting, who was +mournfully toeing off a sock for Horace, +while he sat on the floor, at her feet, mending +her double-covered basket.</p> + +<p>"Why, Katie, darling," said Grace, "what +are you doing with that beautiful ribbon?"</p> + +<p>"Aunt Louise said I might make a bag, +Gracie—"</p> + +<p>"Seems to me aunt Louise lets you do +everything; I shouldn't want you to spoil +that ribbon."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They shan't bother my little Topknot," +said Horace, with a sweep of his thumb. +"She is going to have all my clothes to +make bags of, when she grows up."</p> + +<p>Flyaway, who knew she had a good right +to the ribbon, pressed her eyelids together +slowly.</p> + +<p>"If I's Gracie," said she, severely, "I'd +make aprons; if I's mamma I'd sew dresses; +if I's Flywer, I'd do just's I want to."</p> + +<p>And then she went on sewing; without +any thimble.</p> + +<p>"Girls, have you guessed yet why a +wheelbarrow is like a potato?"</p> + +<p>"No, Horace; why is it?"</p> + +<p>"O, I was in hopes you could tell. I +don't know, I am sure. It is as much as +I can do to make up a conundrum, without +finding out the answer."</p> + +<p>The children laughed at this, but none<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +of them so loud as Flyaway, who thought +her brother the wisest, wittiest, and noblest +specimen of boyhood that ever lived.</p> + +<p>"How our needles do fly!" said Dotty, +merrily.</p> + +<p>She was a neat and swift little seamstress, +even superior to Prudy.</p> + +<p>"See," said Flyaway to Horace; "I work +faster 'n my mamma, 'cause she's got a big +dress to work on: of course she can't sew +so quick as I can on a little bag."</p> + +<p>"Prudy can sew better and faster than +I can," said Dotty, with a sudden gush of +humility.</p> + +<p>"Why, Dotty Dimple, I don't think so," +returned Prudy, quite surprised.</p> + +<p>"Neither do I," said aunt Maria; "I +am afraid our little Dotty is hardly sincere."</p> + +<p>Dotty's head drooped a little. "I know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +it, auntie; I do sew the nicest; but I +was afraid it wouldn't be polite if I told +it just as it was, and Prudy so good to +me, too."</p> + +<p>"If she is good, is that any reason why +you should tell her a wrong story?" remarked +the plain-spoken Susy, giving a +twitch to her tatting-thread.</p> + +<p>"Children," said Mrs. Clifford, laughing, +"do you remember those hideous green +goggles I wore a year ago?"</p> + +<p>"O, yes 'm," replied Grace; "they made +your eyes stick out so! Why, you looked +like a frog, ma', more than anything else."</p> + +<p>"Well, a certain lady of my acquaintance +was so polite as to tell me my goggles +were very becoming."</p> + +<p>"O, ma, who could it have been?"</p> + +<p>"I prefer not to give you her name. I +appreciated her kind wish to please me, +but I could not think her sincere."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> + +<p>"O, Susy," said Grace, "if you could +have seen those goggles! A little basket +for each eye, made of green wire, like a +fly cover! Ma, did you ever believe a +word that lady said afterwards?"</p> + +<p>"Flatterers are not generally to be trusted," +replied Mrs. Clifford. "Flyaway, that +is the fourth needle you have lost."</p> + +<p>Here was another lesson for Dotty's +memory-shelf. "I must not say things that +are not true, just to be polite. It is flattering +and wicked; and besides that, people +always know better."</p> + +<p>It was a quiet, busy, cheerful day. Dotty +forgot to complain of the weather. Just +before supper Flyaway jumped down from +her grandpapa's knee, where she had been +talking to him through his "conversation-tube," +and ran to the window.</p> + +<p>"Why, 'tisn't raining," cried she; "true's +I'm walking on this floor 'tisn't raining!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dotty clapped her hands, and watched +the sun coming out like pure gold, and +turning the dark clouds into silver.</p> + +<p>"We were patient and willing for it to +rain," said she; "but of course that wasn't +why it cleared off."</p> + +<p>And it wasn't why Flyaway lost her +thumb-nail, either. She lost that—or half +of it—in the crack of the door. The +poor little thumb was very painful, and +had to be put in a cot.</p> + +<p>"It wearies me," said Flyaway; "it makes +me afraid I shan't ever have a nail on +there again."</p> + +<p>Her mother assured her she would. The +same God who calls up the little blades of +grass out of the ground could make a finger-nail +grow.</p> + +<p>"Will He?" said Flyaway, smiling +through tears; "but 'haps He'll forget how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +it looks. Musn't I save a piece of my +nail, mamma, and lay it up on the shelf, +so He can see it, and make the other one +like it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clifford put the nail in her jewel-box, +and I dare say it may be there to +this day.</p> + +<p>Just as Flyaway, in her nightie, was +having a frolic with Grace, there was a +sound of wheels. The stage, which Horace +called the "Oriole" because it had a yellow +breast, was rolling into the yard.</p> + +<p>"It's my mother—my mother," cried +the three Parlins together.</p> + +<p>Yes, and who was that little girl getting +down just after her? Her hat covered her +eyes. "It isn't Tate Penny!" Why, to +be sure it was! There was her dimpled +chin; and if that wasn't proof enough, +there was the wart on her thumb!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + +<p>To think such a glorious thing as this +could happen to Dotty! and she not the +best girl in the world either! A visit +from her bosom friend! "Aunt 'Ria, do +you understand? Aunt Louise? Gracie? +This is <i>Tate Penny</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Who asked her to come? How did +she happen to be with mamma, the same +day, in the same cars?"</p> + +<p>Well, grandma Parlin invited her to +come. "When one lives in an India-rubber +house," she said, "a few people more +or less make no difference at all. She +wished Dotty's 'nipperkin' of happiness to +be full for once."</p> + +<p>And it was: it ran over. There were +joyful days for the next fortnight. I could +never draw the picture of them with my +pen, even if I had the paper left to put +it on. They kept house under the trees;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +they baked their food in a brick oven +Horace made; they gave a party; they had +boat rides; they had swings; they never +went into the house unless it rained; they +were never cross to one another, or rude +to Jennie Vance; it was like living in +fairy-land.</p> + +<p>It was a glorious summer. I almost +wish it had not come to an end; though, +in that case, I suppose I should never +have stopped telling about it. By and by +vacation was over, and Tate went off in +the same stage with the Parlins. You +could never guess what she and Dotty each +put so carefully into their bosoms, to keep +"forever." It was a splinter of the dear +old barn where they had had such good +times jumping!</p> + +<p>Three weeks afterwards the "Oriole" +drove up to grandpapa Parlin's again, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +this time for the Cliffords. Flyaway danced +into it like a piece of thistle-down. Everybody +threw good-by kisses, and the stage +rattled away.</p> + +<p>And after that, dears, as Flyaway will +say to her grandchildren, "things went into +a mist." And this is all I have to tell +you about the Parlins, the Cliffords, and +the Willowbrook home.</p> + + +<h3>THE END.</h3> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<h3> + DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES.</h3> +<h4> + To be completed in six vols. Handsomely Illustrated.<br /> + + Each vol., 75 cts.</h4> +<p class="sig"> + +1. <i>DOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER'S</i>.<br /> +2.<i> DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME</i>.<br /> +3. <i>DOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST</i>.<br /> +4. <i>DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY</i>.<br /> +5. <i>DOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL</i>.<br /> +6. <i>DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY</i>.</p> + +<h4> + +BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR.</h4> +<h3> + LITTLE PRUDY STORIES.</h3> +<h4> + Now complete. Six vols. 24mo. Handsomely Illustrated.<br /> + In a neat box. Per vol., 75 cts. Comprising</h4> +<p class="sig"> + +<i>LITTLE PRUDY</i>.<br /> +<i>LITTLE PRUDY'S SISTER SUSIE</i>.<br /> +<i>LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE</i>.<br /> +<i>LITTLE PRUDY'S COUSIN GRACE</i>.<br /> +<i>LITTLE PRUDY'S STORY BOOK</i>.<br /> +<i>LITTLE PRUDY'S DOTTY DIMPLE</i>.<br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dotty Dimple's Flyaway, by Sophie May + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY *** + +***** This file should be named 19247-h.htm or 19247-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/2/4/19247/ + +Produced by Sigal Alon, La Monte H.P. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dotty Dimple's Flyaway + +Author: Sophie May + +Release Date: September 11, 2006 [EBook #19247] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY *** + + + + +Produced by Sigal Alon, La Monte H.P. Yarroll, Sankar +Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: "WHAT FOR YOU LOOK THAT WAY TO ME?"] + + + + DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES. + + + + DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY. + + + + + By SOPHIE MAY, + + AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES." + + + Illustrated. + + + + BOSTON: + LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. + NEW YORK: + LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. + 1871. + + * * * * * + +TO THE + +LITTLE LINDSAYS. + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + +I. BEGINNING TO REMEMBER. + +II. RUNNING AWAY TO CHURCH. + +III. RUNNING AWAY TO HEAVEN. + +IV. A RAILROAD SAVAGE. + +V. EAST AGAIN. + +VI. THE RAG-BAG. + +VII. THE WICKED GIRL. + +VIII. "WHEELBARROWING." + +IX. TIN-TYPES. + +X. WAKING. + +XI. AUNT POLLY'S STORY. + +XII. FULL NIPPERKIN. + + * * * * * + + + + +DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY. + +CHAPTER I. + +BEGINNING TO REMEMBER. + + +Katie Clifford was a very bright child. She almost knew enough to keep +out of fire and water, but not quite. She looked like other little +girls, only so wise,--O, so very wise!--that you couldn't tell her any +news about the earth, or the sun, moon, and stars, for she knew all +about it "byfore." + +Her hair was soft and flying like corn-silk, and when the wind took it +you would think it meant to blow it off like a dandelion top. She was +so light and breezy, and so little for her age, that her father said +"they must put a cent in her pocket to keep her from flying away;" so, +after that, the family began to call her _Flyaway_. She thought it was +her name, and that when people said "Katie," it was a gentle way they +had of scolding. + +Everybody petted her. Her brother Horace put his heart right under her +feet, and she danced over it. Her "uncle Eddard" said "she drove round +the world in a little chariot, and all her friends were harnessed to +it, only they didn't know it." + +Her shoulders were very little, but they bore a crushing weight of +care. From the time she began to talk, she took upon herself the +burden of the whole family. When Mrs. Clifford had a headache, Flyaway +was so full of pity that nothing could keep her from climbing upon +the sufferer, stroking her face, and saying, "O, my _dee_ mamma," or +perhaps breaking the camphor bottle over her nose. + +She sat at table in a high chair beside her father, and might have +learned good manners if it had not been for the care she felt of +Horace. She could scarcely attend to her own little knife and fork, +because she was so busy watching her brother. She wished to see for +herself that he was sitting straight, and not leaning his elbows on +the table. If he made any mistake she cried, "Hollis!" in a tone as +sweet as a wind-harp, though she meant it to be terribly severe, +adding to the effect by shaking the corn-silk on her head in high +displeasure. If she could correct him she thought she had done as much +good in the family as if she had behaved well herself. He received all +rebukes very meekly, with a "Thank you, little Topknot. What would be +done here without you to preserve order?" + +Flyaway could remember as far back as the beginning of the +world,--that is to say, she could remember when _her_ world began. + +It is strange to think of, but the first thing she really knew for a +certainty, she was standing in a yellow chair, in her grandmother +Parlin's kitchen! It was as if she had always been asleep till that +minute. People did say she had once been a baby, but she could not +recollect that, "it was so MANY years ago." + +Her mind, you see, had always been as soft as a bag of feathers; and +nothing that she did, or that any one else did, made much impression. +But now something remarkable was taking place, and she would never +forget it. + +It was this: she was grinding coffee. How prettily it pattered down on +the floor! What did it look like? O, like snuff, that people sneezed +with. This was housework. Next thing they would ask her to wash dishes +and set the table. She would grow larger and larger, and Gracie would +grow littler and littler; and O, how nice it would be when she could +do all the work, and Gracie had to sit in mamma's lap and be rocked! + +"Flywer'll do some help," said she. "Flywer'll take 'are of g'amma's +things." + +While she stood musing thus, with a dreamy smile, and turning the +handle of the mill as fast as it would go round, somebody sprang at +her very unexpectedly. It was Ruth, the kitchen-girl. She seized Katie +by the shoulders, carried her through the air, and set her on her feet +in the sink. + +"There, little Mischief," said she, "you'll stay there one while! +We'll see if we can't put a stop to this coffee-grinding! Why, you're +enough to wear out the patience of Job!" + +Katie had often heard about Job; she supposed it was something +dreadful, like a lion, or a whale. She looked up at Ruth, and saw her +black eyes flashing and the rosy color trembling in her cheeks. Cruel +Ruth! She did not know Katie was her best friend, working and helping +get dinner as fast as she could. "Ruthie," sobbed she, "you didn't ask +please." + +"Well, well, child, I'm in a hurry; and when you set things to flying, +you're enough to wear out the patience of Job." + +Job again. + +"You've said so two times, Ruthie! Now I don't like you tall, tenny +rate." + +This was as harsh language as Katie dared use; but she frowned +fearfully, and a tuft of hair, rising from her head like a waterspout, +made her look so fierce that Ruth seemed to be frightened, and ran +away with her apron up to her face. + +The sink was so high that Katie could not get out of it +alone,--"course _indeed_ she couldn't." + +"It most makes me 'fraid," said she to herself: "Ruthie's a big woman, +I's a little woman. When I's the biggest I'll put Ruthie in _my_ +sink." + +Very much comforted by this resolve, she dried her eyes and began to +look about her for more housework. "Let's me see; I'll pump a bushel +o' water." + +There was a pail in the sink; so, what should she do but jump into +that, and then jerk the pump-handle up and down, till a fine stream +poured out and sprinkled her all over! + +"Sing a song, O sink-spout," sang she, catching her breath: but +presently she began to feel cold. + +"O, how it makes me _shivvle_!" said she. + +"Katie!" called out a voice. + +"Here me are!" gurgled the little one, her mouth under the pump-nose. + +When Horace came in she was standing in water up to the tops of her +long white stockings. He took her out, wrung her a little, and set her +on a shelf in the pantry to dry. + +"Oho!" said she, shaking her wet plumage, like a duckling; "what for +you look that way to me? I didn't do nuffin,--not the leastest nuffin! +The water kep' a comin' and a comin'." + +"Yes, you little naughty girl, and you kept pumping and pumping." + +"I'm isn't little naughty goorl," thought Katie, indignantly; "but +Ruthie's naughty goorl, and Hollis _velly_ naughty goorl." + +"O, here you are, you little Hop-o'-my-thumb," said Mrs. Clifford, +coming into the pantry; "a baby with a cough in her throat and pills +in her pocket musn't get wet." + +Flyaway thrust her hand into her wet pocket to make sure the wee vial +of white dots was still there. + +"I fished her out of a pail of water," said Horace; "to-morrow I shall +find her in a bird's nest." + +Mrs. Clifford sent for some fresh stockings and shoes. Her +baby-daughter was so often falling into mischief that she thought very +little about it. She did not know this was a remarkable occasion, and +the baby had to-day begun to remember. She did not know that if +Flyaway should live to be an old lady, she would sometimes say to her +grandchildren,-- + +"The very first thing I have any recollection of, dears, is grinding +coffee in your great-grandmamma's kitchen at Willowbrook. The girl, +Ruth Dillon, took me up by the shoulders, carried me through the air, +and set me in the sink, and then I pumped water over myself." + +This is about the way little Flyaway would be likely to talk, sixty +years from now, adding, as she polished her spectacles,-- + +"And after that, children, things went into a mist, and I don't +remember anything else that happened for some time." + +Why was it that things "went into a mist"? Why didn't she keep on +remembering every day? I don't know. + +But the next thing that really did happen to Miss Thistleblow Flyaway, +though she went right off and forgot it, was this: She persuaded her +mother to write a letter for her to "Dotty Dimpwill." As it was her +first letter, I will copy it. + + "MY DEAR DOTTY DIMPWILL first, then MY PRUDY: + + "I'm going to say that I dink milk, and that girl lost my + pills. + + "I see a hop-toad. He hopped. Jennie took _her_ up in _his_ + dress. + + "And 'bout we put hop-toad in wash-dish. He put his foots + out, _stwetched_, honest! He was a slippy fellow. First + thing we knowed it, he hopped on to her dress. Isn't that + funny? + + "Now 'bout the chickens; they are trottin' round on the + grass: they didn't be dead. _We_ haven't got any only but + dead ones; but Mis' Gray has. + + "I like Dr. Gray ever so much! + + "Mis' Gray gave me the kitty to play with. I bundled it all + up in my dress, 'cause I didn't want the cat to get it. When + I went home I gave it to the cat. [You got that _wroten_?] + + "There wasn't any _dead_ little kittens. She gave me a + cookie, and I eated it, and I told her to give me another to + bring home, 'cause I liked her cookies; they was curly + cookies. [Got it wroted, mamma?] + + "Now 'bout I pumped full a pail full o' water. + + "[She _knows_ we've got a house?] + + "Now say good by, and I kiss her a pretty little kiss. O, + no; I want her to come and see me,--her and Prudy,--_two_ + of 'em! I's here yet. ['Haps she knows it!] + + "That's all--I feel sleepy. + + (Signed) "From + + "DOTTY DIMPWILL TO FLYWER." + +This letter "went into a mist," and so did the next performance, which +you will read in the following chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +RUNNING AWAY TO CHURCH. + + +The little Parlins came the next week. One Sunday morning Dotty Dimple +stood before the glass, putting on her hat for church. Katie came and +peeped in with her, opening her small mouth and drawing her lips over +her teeth, as her grandfather did when he shaved. + +"See, Flyaway, you haven't any dimples at all!" said Dotty, primping a +little. "Your hair isn't smooth and curly like mine; it sticks up all +over your head, like a little fan." + +"O, my shole!" sighed Flyaway, scowling at herself. She did not know +how lovely she was, nor how + + "The light of the heaven she came from + Still lingered and gleamed in her hair." + +"I wisht 'twouldn't get out," said she. + +"What do you mean by _out_?" + +"O, unwetted, and un-comb-bid, and un-parted." + +"That's because you fly about like such a little witch." + +"I doesn't do the leastest nuffin, Dotty Dimpwill! Folks ought to let +me to go to churches." + +"I _should_ laugh, Fly Clifford, to see _you_ going to churches! All +the ministers would come down out of the pulpits and ask what little +mischief that was, and make aunt 'Ria carry you home!" + +"No, he wouldn't, too! I'd sit stiller'n two, free, five hundred +mouses," pleaded Flyaway, climbing up the back of a chair to show how +quiet she could be. + +"O, it's no use to talk about it, darling. Give me one kiss, and I'll +go get my sun-shade." + +"Can't, Dotty Dimpwill! My mamma's kiss I'll keep; it's ahind my mouf; +she's gone to 'Dusty. + +"Well, 'keep it ahind your mouf,' then; and here's another to put with +it. What _do_ you s'pose makes me love to kiss you so?" + +"O, 'cause I so sweet," replied Flyaway, promptly; but she was not +thinking of her own sweetness, just then; she was wondering if she +could manage to run away to church. + +"I'se a-goin' there myse'f! Sit still's a--a--" She looked around for +a comparison, and saw a grasshopper on the window-sill: "still's a +_gas-papa_. Man won't say nuffin' to me, see 'f he does!" + +Strange such an innocent-looking child could be so sly! She ran down +the path with Horace, kissing her little hand to everybody for good +by, all the while thinking how she could steal off to church without +being seen. + +"You may go up stairs and lie down with me on my bed," said grandma, +who was not very well. So Katie climbed upon the bed. + +"My dee gamma, I so solly you's sick!" said she, stroking Mrs. +Parlin's face, and picking open her eyelids. But after patting and +"pooring" the dear lady for some time, she thought she had made her +"all well," and then was anxious to get away. Mrs. Parlin wished to +keep her up stairs as long as possible, because Ruth had a toothache. + +"Shan't I tell you a story, dear?" said she. + +"Yes, um; tell 'bout a long baby--no, a long story 'bout a short +baby." + +"Well, once there was a king, and he had a daughter--" + +"O, no, gamma, not that! Tell me 'bout baby that _didn't_ be on the +bul-yushes; I don't want to hear 'bout _Mosey_!" + +Grandma smiled, and wondered if people, in the good old Bible days, +were in the habit of using pet names, and if Pharaoh's daughter ever +called the Hebrew boy "Mosey." She was about to begin another story, +when Flyaway said, "Guess I'll go out, now," and slid off the bed. +There was an orange on the table. She took it, held it behind her, and +walked quickly to the door. Looking back, she saw that her +grandmother was watching her. + +"What you looking at, gamma? 'Cause I'm are goin' to bring the ollinge +right back." + +And so she did, but not because it was wrong to keep it. Flyaway had +no conscience, or, if she had any, it was very small, folded up out of +sight, like a leaf-bud on a tree in the spring. + +"Ask Ruthie to wash your face and hands, and then come right back to +grandma and hear the story." + +"Yes um." + +Down stairs she pattered. The moment Ruth had kissed her, and turned +away to make a poultice, she crept into the nursery, and put on +Horace's straw hat. Then she took from a corner an old cane of her +grandfather's, and from the paper-rack a daily newspaper, and started +out in great glee. The "Journal" she hugged to her heart, and her +short dress she held up to her waist, "'Cause I s'pect I mus' keep it +out o' the mud," said she, as anxiously as any lady with a train. + +She had no trouble in finding the church, for the road was straight, +but the cane kept tripping her up. + +"Naughty fing! Wisht I hadn't took you, to-day, you act so bad!" said +she, picking herself up for the fifth time, and slinging the "naughty +fing" across her shoulder like a gun. When she came to the +meeting-house there was not a soul to be seen. "Guess they's eatin' +dinner in here," decided Flyaway, after looking about for a few +seconds. "Guess I'll go up chamer, see where the folks is." + +[Illustration: RUNNING AWAY TO CHURCH.] + +Up stairs she clattered, hitting the balusters with her cane. Good Mr. +Lee was preaching from the text, "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it +holy," and people could not imagine who was naughty enough to make +such a noise outside--thump, thump, thump. + +"Who's that a-talkin'?" thought Flyaway, startled by Mr. Lee's voice. +"O, ho! that's the _prayer-man_ a-talkin'. He makes me kind o' +'fraid!" + +But just at that minute she had reached the top of the stairs, and was +standing in the doorway. + +"O, my shole! so _many_ folks!" + +She trembled, and was about to run away with her newspaper and cane; +but her eyes, in roving wildly about, fell upon grandpa Parlin and all +the rest of them, in a pew very near the pulpit. Then she thought it +must be all right, and, taking courage, she marched slowly up the +aisle, swinging the cane right and left. + +Everybody looked up in surprise as the droll little figure crept by. +Grandpa frowned through his spectacles, and aunt Louise shook her +head; but Horace hid his face in a hymn-book and Dotty Dimple actually +smiled. + +"They didn't know _I_ was a-comin'," thought Flyaway, "but I camed!" + +And with that she fluttered into the pew. + +"Naughty, naughty girl," said aunt Louise, in an awful whisper. + +She longed to take up the morsel of naughtiness, called Katie, in her +thumb and finger, shake it, and carry it out. But there was a twinkle +in the little one's eye that might mean mischief; she did not dare +touch her. + +"O, what a child!" said aunt Louise, taking off the big hat and +setting Flyaway down on the seat as hard as she could. + +Flyaway looked up, through her veil of flossy hair, at her pretty +auntie with the roses round her face. + +"Nobody didn't take 'are o' me to my house," said she, in a loud +whisper, "and _that's_ what is it!" + +"Hush!" said aunt Louise, giving Flyaway another shake, which +frightened her so that she dropped her head on her brother's shoulder, +and sat perfectly still for half a minute. + +Aunt Louise was sadly mortified, and so were Susy and Prudy. They +dared not look up, for they thought everybody was gazing straight at +the Parlin pew, and laughing at their crazy little relative. Horace +and Dotty Dimple did not care in the least; they thought it very +funny. + +"They shan't scold at my cunning little Topknot," whispered Horace, +consolingly. "Sit still, darling, and when we get home I'll give you a +cent." + +"Yes um, I will," replied poor brow-beaten Flyaway, and held up her +head again with the best of them. Perhaps she had been naughty; +perhaps folks were going to snip her fingers; but "Hollis" was on her +side now and forever. She began to feel quite contented. She had got +inside the church at last, and was very well pleased with it. It was +even queerer than she had expected. + +"What was that high-up thing the prayer-man was a-standin' on?" + +Flyaway merely asked this of her own wise little brain. She concluded +it must be "a chimley." + +"Great red curtains ahind him," added she, still conversing with her +own little brain. "Lots o' great big bubbles on the walls all round. +Big's a tea-kiddle! Lamps, I s'pose. There's that table. Where's the +cups and saucers for the supper? And the tea-pot? + +"All the bodies everywhere had their bonnets on; why for? Didn't say a +word, and the prayer-man kep' a-talkin' all the time; why for? Flywer +didn't talk; no indeed. Folks mus'n't. If folks did, then the man +would come down out the chimley and tell the other bodies to carry 'em +home. 'Cause it's the holy Sabber-day,--and _that's_ what is it." + +Flyaway's airy brain went dancing round and round. She slid away from +Horace's shoulder, spread her little length upon the seat, closed her +wondering, tired eyes, and sailed off to Noddle's Island. A fly, +buzzing in from out doors, had long been trying to settle on Flyaway's +restless nose. He never did settle: Horace kept guard with a palm-leaf +fan, and "all the other bodies" in the pew sat as still as if they had +been nailed down; so anxious were they to keep the little sleeper +safely harbored at Noddle's Island. + +"Such a relief!" thought aunt Louise, venturing to look up once more. + +Flyaway did not waken till the last prayer, when Horace held her fast, +lest she should make a sudden rush upon a speckled dog, which came +trotting up the aisle. + +On the steps they met Ruth, with wild eyes and face tied up in a +scarf, hunting for Flyaway. Mrs. Parlin, she said, was going up the +hill, so frightened that it would make her "down sick." + +When grandma got home, all out of breath, she found Flyaway looking +very downcast. Her heart was heavy under so many scoldings. "O, +Katie," said grandma, "how could you run away?" + +"I didn't yun away," replied Flyaway, thrusting her finger into her +mouth; "I _walked_ away!" + +"There, if that isn't a cunning baby, where'll you find one?" +whispered brother Horace to Prudy. "Grandmother can't punish her after +such a 'cute speech." + +But grandmother could, and did. She took her by the little soft hand, +led her to the china closet, and locked her in. + +"Half an hour you must stay there," said she, "and think what a +naughty girl you've been!" + +"Yes um," said Flyaway, meekly, and wiped off a tear with the hem of +her frock. + +But the moment she was left alone, her quick, observing eyes saw +something which gave her a thrill of delight. It was a jar of quince +jelly, which had been left by accident on the lower shelf. + +"'Cause I spect I likes um," said she, serenely, after eating all she +possibly could. + +At the end of half an hour grandma came and turned the key. + +"Have you been thinking, dear, and are you sorry and ready to come +out?" + +"Yes, um," replied the little culprit, with her mouth full, and +feeling very brave as long as the door was shut between her and her +jailer. "Yes, um, I've thought it all up,--defful solly. _But_ you +won't never shut me up no more, gamma Parlin!" + +"Katie Clifford!" said grandma, sternly; and then she opened the door, +and faced Flyaway. + +"'Cause--'cause--_'cause_," cried the little one, in great alarm; "you +won't shut me up, 'cause I won't never walk away no more, gamma +Parlin!" + +Mrs. Parlin tried hard not to smile; but the mixture on Flyaway's +little face of naughtiness, jelly, and fright, was very funny to see. + +The child noticed that her grandmother's brows knit as if in +displeasure, and then she remembered the jelly. + +"I hasn't been a-touchin' your 'serves, gamma," said she. + +Mrs. Parlin really did not know what to do,--Flyaway's conscience was +_so_ little and folded away in so many thicknesses, like a tiny pearl +in a whole box of cotton wool. How could anybody get at it? + +"Gamma, I hasn't been a-touchin' your 'serves," repeated the little +thief. + +"Ah, don't tell me that," said grandma, sadly; "I see it in your eye!" + +"What, gamma, the _'serves_ in my eye?" said Flyaway, putting up her +finger to find out for herself. "'Cause I put 'em in my _mouf_, I +did." + +Mrs. Parlin washed the little pilferer's face and hands, took her in +her lap, and tried to feel her way through the cotton wool to the tiny +conscience. + +The child looked up and listened to all the good words, and when they +had been spoken over and over, this was what she said:-- + +"O, gamma, you's got such pitty little wrinkles!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +RUNNING AWAY TO HEAVEN. + + +About ten o'clock one morning, Flyaway was sitting in the little green +chamber with Dotty Dimple and Jennie Vance, bathing her doll's feet in +a glass of water. Dinah had a dreadful headache, and her forehead was +bandaged with a red ribbon. + +"_Does_ you feel any better?" asked Flyaway, tenderly, from time to +time; but Dinah had such a habit of never answering, that it was of no +use to ask her any questions. + +Dotty Dimple and Jennie were talking very earnestly. + +"I do wish I did know where Charlie Gray is!" said Dotty, looking +through the open window at a bird flying far aloft into the blue sky. + +"You do know," answered Jennie, quickly; "he's in heaven." + +"Yes, of course; but so high up--O, so high up," sighed Dotty, "it +makes you dizzy to think." + +"Can um see we?" struck in little Flyaway, holding to Dinah's flat +nose a bottle of reviving soap suds. + +"Prudy says it's beautiful to be dead," added Dotty, without heeding +the question; "beautiful to be dead." + +"Shtop!" cried Flyaway; "I's a-talkin'. Does um see _we_?" + +"O, I don' know, Fly Clifford; you'll have to ask the minister." + +Flyaway squeezed the water from Dinah's ragged feet, and dropped her +under the table, headache and all. Then she tipped over the goblet, +and flew to the window. + +"The Charlie boy likes canny seeds; I'll send him some," said she, +pinning a paper of sugared spices to the window curtain, and drawing +it up by means of the tassel. "O, dear, um don't go high enough. +Charlie won't get 'em." + +"Why, what is that baby trying to do?" said Dotty Dimple. + +"Charlie's defful high up," murmured Flyaway, heaving a little sigh; +"can't get the canny seeds." + +"O, what a Fly! How big do you s'pose her mind is, Jennie Vance?" + +"Big as a thimble, perhaps," replied Jennie, doubtfully. + +"Why, I shouldn't think, now, 'twas any larger than the head of a +pin," said Dotty, with decision; "s'poses heaven is top o' this room! +Why, Jennie Vance, I _persume_ it's ever so much further off 'n Mount +Blue--don't you?" + +"O, yes, indeed! What queer ideas such children do have! Flyaway +doesn't understand but very little we say, Dotty Dimple; not but very +little." + +Flyaway turned round with one of her wise looks. She thought she did +understand; at any rate she was catching every word, and stowing it +away in her little bit of a brain for safe keeping. Heaven was on +Mount Blue. She had learned so much. + +"But I knowed it by-fore," said she to herself, with a proud toss of +the silky plume on the crown of her head. + +"Shall we take her with us?" asked Jennie Vance. + +Flyaway listened eagerly; she thought they were still talking of +heaven, when in truth Jennie only meant a concert which was to be +given that afternoon at the vestry. + +"Take _that_ little snip of a child!" replied Dotty; "O, no; she isn't +big enough; 'twouldn't be any use to pay money for _her!_" + +With which very cutting remark Dotty swept out of the room, in her +queenly way, followed by Jennie. Flyaway threw herself across a +pillow, and moaned,-- + +"O, dee, dee!" + +Her little heart was ready to bleed; and this wasn't the first time, +either. Those great big girls were always running away from her, and +calling her "goosies" and "snips;" and now they meant to climb to +heaven, where Charlie was, and leave her behind. + +"But I won't stay down here in this place; I'll go to heaven too, now, +_cerdily_!" She sprang from the pillow and stood on one foot, like a +strong-minded little robin that will not be trifled with by a worm. +"I'll go too, now, cerdily." + +Having made up her mind, she hurried as fast as she could, and tucked +a stick of candy in her pocket, also the bottle of soap suds, and two +thirds of a "curly cookie" shaped like a leaf. "Charlie would be so +glad to see Fly-wer!" She purred like a contented kitten as she +thought about it. "'Haps they've got a _bossy-cat_ up there, and a +piggy, and a swing. O, my shole!" + +There was no time to be lost. Flyaway must overtake the girls, and, if +possible, get to heaven before they did. She flew about like a +distracted butterfly. + +"I must have some skipt; her said me's too little to pay for money;" +and she curled her pretty red lip; "but I'm isn't much little; man'll +_want_ some skipt." + +For she fancied somebody standing at the door of heaven holding out +his hand like the ticket-man at the depot. She found her mother's +purse in the writing-desk, and scattered its contents into the +wash-bowl, then picked out the wettest "skipt," a five-dollar bill, +and tucked it into her bosom. This would make it all right at the door +of heaven. + +"Now my spetty-curls," she added, hunting in the "uppest drawer" till +she found the eyeless spectacles used for playing "old lady." With +these on, Flyaway thought she could see the way a great deal better. +Horace's boots would help her up hill; so she jumped into those, and +clattered down the back stairs with Dinah under her arm. + +There was nobody in the kitchen, for Ruthie was down cellar sweeping. +Flyaway caught her shaker off the "short nail," and stole out without +being seen. Sitting in the sun on the piazza was the "blue" kittie. +"Finkin' 'bout a mouse, I spect," said little Flyaway, seizing her and +blowing open her eyes like a couple of rosebuds. + +"Does you know where I's a-goin'? Up to heaven. We don't let tinty +folks, like cats, go to heaven." + +Pussy winked sorrowfully at this, and baby's tender heart was touched. + +"Yes, we does," said she; "but you musn't scwatch the Charlie boy;" +and she tucked the "tinty folks" under her left arm. Then all was +ready, and the little pilgrim started for heaven. + +"Um's on the toppest hill," said she, looking at the far-off +mountains, reaching up against the blue sky. One mountain was much +higher than the others, and on that she fixed her eye. It was Mount +Blue, and was really twenty miles away. If Flyaway should ever reach +that cloud-capped peak, it was not her wee, wee feet which would carry +her there. But the baby had no idea of distances. She went out of the +yard as fast as the big boots would allow. She felt as brave as a +little fly trying to walk the whole length of the Chinese Wall. + +Where were Dotty Dimple and Jennie Vance? O, they were half way to +heaven by this time; she must "hurry quick." + +The fact was, they were "up in the Pines," picking strawberries. +Nobody saw Flyaway but a caterpillar. + +"O, my shole! there's a _catty-pillow_--what he want, you fink?" + +Kitty winked and Dinah sulked, but there was no reply. + +The next thing they met was a grasshopper. "O, dee, a _gas-papa_! +Where you s'pose um goin'?" + +Kitty winked again and Dinah sulked. + +Flyaway answered her own question. "Diny, dat worm gone see his +mamma." + +Dinah did not care anything about the family feelings of the "worms;" +so she kept her red silk mouth shut; but she grew very heavy--so +heavy, indeed, that once her little mother dropped her in the sand, +but picking her up, shook her and trudged on. Presently she dropped +something else, and this time it was the kitty. Flyaway turned about +in dismay. + +"Shtop," cried she, scowling through her "spetty-curls," as she saw +three white paws and one blue one go tripping over the road. "Shtop!" +But the paws kept on. + +"O, Diny," said Flyaway, as pussy's tail disappeared round a +corner,--"O, Diny, her don't want to go to heaven!" + +Then Flyaway sat down in the sand, and pulled off one of the big +boots. + +"Um won't walk," said she; but, before she had time to pull off the +second one, a dog came along and frightened her so she tried to run, +though she only hopped on one foot, and dragged the other. She did not +know what the matter was till she fell down and the boot came off of +itself, after which she could walk very well. What cared she that both +"Hollis's" new boots were left in the road, ready to be crushed by +wagon wheels? + +She kept on and kept on; but where was that blue hill going to? It +moved faster than she did. + +"Makes me povokin'," said she, giving Dinah a shake. "Um runs away and +away, and all off!" + +Sometimes she remembered she was going to heaven, and sometimes she +forgot it. She was on the way to the "Pines," and many little flowers +grew by the road-side. She began to pick a few, but the thorns on the +raspberry bushes tore her tender hands, and one of the naughty +branches caught Dinah by the frizzly hair, and carried her under. What +did Flyaway spy behind the bushes? Dotty Dimple and Jennie Vance. They +were eating wintergreen leaves; they did not see her. Flyaway kept as +still as if she were sitting for a photograph, picked up Dinah, gave +her a hug, and crept on. + +She went so quietly that nobody heard her. When she was out of sight +she purred for joy. She had got ahead of the girls on the way to +heaven! She took the stick of candy out of her pocket and nibbled it +to celebrate the occasion. "A little hump-backed bumblebee" saw her do +it. He wanted some too, and followed Flyaway as if she had been a +moving honeysuckle. For half a mile or more she "gaed" and she "gaed," +all the while nibbling the candy; but now she was growing very tired, +and did it to comfort herself. Suddenly she remembered it was +Charlie's candy. She held it up to her tearful eyes. + +"O dee," said she, "it was big, but it keeps a-gettin' little!" + +The hungry bumblebee, who was just behind her, thought this was his +last chance: so he pounced down upon Charlie's candy; and being +cross, and not knowing Flyaway from any other little girl, he stung +her on the thumb. Then how she cried, "'Orny 'ting me! 'Orny 'ting +me!" for she had been treated just so before by a hornet. "O my dee +mamma! My dee mamma!" + +But her "dee" mamma could not hear her; she was in the city of +Augusta; and as for the rest of the family, they supposed Flyaway was +playing "catch" with Dotty Dimple in the barn. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"A RAILROAD SAVAGE." + + +It now occurred to little Flyaway, with a sudden pang, that she must +have come to the end of the world. "Yes, cerdily!" The world was full +of folks and houses,--this place was nothing but trees. The world had +horses and wagons in it,--this place hadn't. "O dee!" + +Where was the hill gone, on the top of which stood that big house they +called heaven,--the house where Charlie lived and played in the +garden? Why, that hill had just walked off, and the house too! She +parted the bushes and peeped through. Nothing to be seen but trees. +Flyaway began to cry from sheer fright, as well as pain. "'Tis a +defful day! I can't _stay_ in this day!" + +More trouble had come to her than she knew how to bear; but worst of +all was the cruel stab of the bumblebee. She pitied her aching "fum," +and kissed it herself to make it feel better; but all in vain; "the +pain kept on and on;" the "fum" grew big as fast as the candy had +grown little. + +"Somebody don't take 'are o' me," wailed she; "somebody gone off, lef' +me alone!" + +She was dreadfully hungry. "When _was_ it be dinner time?" She would +not have been in the least surprised, but very much pleased, if a bird +had flown down with a plate of roast lamb in his bill, and set it on +the ground before her. Simple little Flyaway! Or if her far-away +mother had sprung out from behind a tree with a bed in her arms, the +tired baby would have jumped into the bed and asked no questions. + +But nothing of the sort came to pass. Here she was, without any heaven +or any mother; and the great yellow sun was creeping fast down the +sky. + +"I'm tired out and sleepy out," wailed the young traveller, the tears +rolling over the rims of her "spetty-curls,"--"all sleepy out; and I +can't get rested 'thout--my--muvver!" + +She sat down and hid her head in her black dolly's bosom. + +"Diny, you got some ears? We wasn't here by-fore!" + +This was all the way she had of saying she was lost. + +The sky suddenly grew dark; a shower was coming up. + +"Where has the bwight sun gone?" said Flyaway, with a shudder. + +She was answered by a peal of thunder,--wagon-wheels, she supposed. + +"Here I is!" shouted she. + +Some one had come for her. Perhaps it was Charlie, and they meant to +give her a ride up to heaven. A flash of light, and then another +crash. Flyaway understood it then. It was logs. People were rolling +logs up in the sky, on the blue floor. She had seen logs in a mill. +Such a noise! + +Then she dropped fast asleep, and somebody came right down out of the +clouds and gave her a peach turnover as big as a dinner basket, or so +she thought. Just as she was about to cut it, she was awakened by the +rain dripping into her eyes. She started up, exclaiming, "If you pees +um, I want some cheese um." + +But the turnover had gone! Then the feeling of desolation swept over +her again. She had come to the end of the world, and dinner, and +mother, and heaven had all gone off and left her. + +"O, Diny," sobbed she, turning to her unfeeling dolly for sympathy. +"I's free years old, and you's one years old. Don't you want to go to +heaven, Diny, and sit in God's lap? What a great big lap he must +have!" + +A gust of wind lifted the frizzles on Dinah's forehead, but that was +all. + +"O dee, dee, dee! you don't hear nuffin 't all, Diny," said +Flyaway--the only sensible remark she had made that day. It was of no +use talking to Dinah; so she began to talk to herself. + +"What you matter, Flywer Clifford?" said she, scowling to keep her +courage up. "What you matter?" + +And after she had said that, she cried harder than ever, and crept +under the bushes, moaning like a wounded lamb. + +"I'm defful wetter, but I'm colder'n I's wetter; makes me shivvle!" + +After a while the clouds had poured out all the rain there was in +them, and left the sky as clear as it was before; but by that time the +sun had gone to bed, and the little birds too, sending out their good +nights from tree to tree. Then the new moon came, and peeped over the +shoulder of a hill at Flyaway. She sprang out from the bushes like a +rabbit. + +"O, my shole!" cried she, clapping her hands, "the sun's camed again! +A little bit o' sun. I sawed it!" + +[Illustration: LOST IN THE WOODS.] + +Inspired with new courage, she and Dinah concluded to start for +home; that is to say, they turned round three or four times, and then +struck off into the woods. + + * * * * * + +Now you may be sure all this could not happen without causing great +alarm at grandpa Parlin's. When the dinner bell rang, everybody asked, +twice over, "Why, where is little Fly?" and Dotty Dimple answered, as +innocently as if it were none of her affairs,-- + +"Why, isn't she in the house? We s'posed she was. Jennie Vance and I +have just been out in the garden, under your little _crying willow_, +making a wreath. Thought she was in the barn, or somewhere." + +"But you haven't been in the garden all the while?" + +"No'm; once we went up in the Pines,--grandma, you said we might,--but +we haven't seen Fly,--why, we haven't seen her for the longest while!" + +Grace had dropped her knife and fork and was looking pale. + +"It was Susy and I that had the care of her, grandma; when you went +out to see the sick lady, you charged us, and we forgot all about it." + +"Pretty works, I should think!" cried Horace, springing out of his +chair; "I wouldn't sell that baby for her weight in gold; but I reckon +_you_ would, Grace Clifford, and be glad of it, too." + +Grandma held up a warning finger. "I declare," said aunt Louise, very +much agitated, "I never shall consent to have Maria go out of town +again, and leave Katie with us. If she will try to swim in the +watering-trough, she is just as likely to take a walk on the +ridgepole of the house." + +Horace darted out of the room with a ghastly face, but came back +looking relieved. He had been up in the attic, and climbed through the +scuttle, without finding any human Fly on the roof, or on the dizzy +tops of the chimneys, either. + +But where was the child? Had Ruth seen her? Had Abner? + +No; the last that could be remembered, she had been playing by herself +in the green chamber, soaking Dinah's feet in a glass of water. The +"blue kitty," the only creature who had anything to tell, sat washing +her face on the kitchen hearth, and yawning sleepily. Fly's shaker was +gone from the "short nail," and aunt Louise discovered some bank-bills +in a wash-bowl,--"Fly's work, of course." But this was all they knew. + +Grandpa searched the barn, Abner the fields, Ruth the cellar; aunt +Louise and Horace ran down to the river. In half an hour several of +the neighbors had joined in the search. + +"I always thought there would be a last time," said poor Mrs. Dr. +Gray, putting on her black bonnet, and joining Grace and Susy. "That +child seems to me like a little spirit, or a fairy, and I never +thought she would live long. She and Charlie were too lovely for this +world." + +"O, _don't_, Mrs. Gray," said Grace. "If you knew how often she'd been +lost, you would not say so! We always find her, after a while, +somewhere." + +Horace, who had gone on in advance, now came running back, swinging +his boots in the air. + +"A trail!" cried he. "I've found a trail! Who planted these boots in +the road, if it wasn't Fly Clifford?" + +"Perhaps she has gone to aunt Martha's," said Mrs. Parlin, "or tried +to. Strange we did not think of that!" + +But aunt Martha had not seen her, nor had any one else. Horace and +Abner went up to the Pines, but the forest beyond they never thought +of exploring; it did not seem probable that such a small child could +have strolled to such a distance as that. + +Supper time came and went. There was a short thunder-shower. The +Parlins shuddered at every flash of lightning, and shivered at every +drop of rain; for where was delicate, lost little Fly? + +Abner and Horace were out during the shower. Horace would have braved +hurricanes and avalanches in the cause of his dear little Topknot. + +"There's one thing we haven't thought of," said Abner, shaking the +drops from his hat and looking up at the sky, which had cleared again; +"we haven't thought of the railroad surveyors! They are round the town +everywhere with their compasses and spy-glasses." + +It was not a bad idea of Abner's. He and Horace went to the hotel +where the railroad men boarded. The engineer's face lighted at once. + +"I wish I had known before there was a child missing," he said. "I saw +the figure of a little girl, through my glass, not an hour ago. It was +a long way beyond the Pines, and I wondered how such a baby happened +up there; but I had so much else to think of that it passed out of my +mind." + +About eight o'clock, Flyaway was found in the woods, sound asleep, +under a hemlock tree, her faithful Dinah hugged close to her heart. + +There was a shout from a dozen mouths. Horace's eyes overflowed. He +caught his beloved pet in his arms. + +"O, little Topknot!" he cried. "Who's got you? Look up, look up, +little Brown-brimmer." + +All Flyaway could do was to sob gently, and then curl her head down on +her brother's shoulder, saying, sleepily, "Cold, ou' doors stayin'." + +"Why did our darling run away?" + +"Didn't yun away; I's goin' up to heaven see Charlie," replied +Flyaway, suddenly remembering the object of her journey, and gazing +around at Abner, Dr. Gray, and the other people, with eyes full of +wonder. "Where's the toppest hill? I's goin' up, carry Charlie some +canny." + +The people formed a line, and, as Prudy said, "processed" behind Katie +all the way to the village. + +"Is we goin' to heaven?" said the child, still bewildered. "It yunned +away and away, and all off!" + +"No, you blessed baby, you are not going to heaven just yet, if we can +help it," answered Dr. Gray, leaning over Horace's shoulder to kiss +the child. + +Flyaway was too tired to ask any more questions. She let first one +person carry her, and then another, sometimes holding up her swollen +thumb, and murmuring, "'Orny 'ting me--tell my mamma." And after that +she was asleep again. + +Dotty Dimple, Susy, and Prudy were pacing the piazza when the party +arrived, but poor grandma was on the sofa in the parlor, quite +overcome with anxiety and fatigue, and Miss Polly Whiting was +mournfully fanning her with a black feather fan. The sound of voices +roused Mrs. Parlin. "Safe! safe!" was the cry. Dotty Dimple rushed in, +shouting, "A railroad savage found her! a railroad savage found her!" + +In another moment the runaway was in her grandmother's lap. All she +could say was, "'Orny 'ting me on my fum! 'Orny 'ting me on my fum!" +For this one little bite of a bee seemed greater to Flyaway Clifford +than all the dangers she had passed. If grandma would only kiss her +"fum," it was no matter about going to heaven, or even being +undressed. + +But after she had had a bowl of bread and milk, and been nicely +bathed, she forgot her sufferings, and laughed in her sleep. She was +dreaming how Charlie came to the door of heaven and helped her up the +steps. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +EAST AGAIN. + + +A whole year passed. Dotty Dimple became a school-girl, with a "bosom +friend" and a pearl ring. Prudy, who called herself "the middle-aged +sister," grew tall and slender. Katie was four years old, and just a +little heavier, so she no longer needed a cent in her pocket to keep +her from blowing away. + +The Parlins had been at Willowbrook a week before the Cliffords +arrived. There was a great sensation over Katie. She was delighted to +hear that she had grown more than any of the others. + +"I'm gettin' old all over!" said she, gayly. "Four--goin' to be five! +Wish I was most six. Dotty Dimpul, don't you wish _you's_ most a +_hunderd_?" + +"O, you cunning little cousin!" said Dotty, embracing her rapturously; +"I wish you loved me half as well as I love you; that's what I wish. I +told Tate Penny you were prettier than Tid; and so you are. Such red +cheeks! But what makes one cheek redder than the other?" + +"O, I eat my bread 'n' milk that side o' my mouf," replied Flyaway; +"and that's why." + +"What an idea! And your hair is just as fine as ever it was; the color +of my ring--isn't it, Prudy?" + +Flyaway put her little hand to her head, and felt the floss flying +about as usual. + +"My hair comes all to pieces," explained she; "_or nelse_ I have a +ribbon to tie it up with." + +"Are you glad to come back to Willowbrook, you precious little dear?" +asked two or three voices. + +"Yes 'm," said Flyaway, doubtfully; "Y--es--um." + +"She doesn't remember anything about it, I guess," said Prudy, +kneeling before the little one, and kissing the sweet place in her +neck. + +"Yes, I do," said Flyaway, winking hard and breathing quick in the +effort to recall the very dim and very distant past; "yes, I 'member." + +"Well, what do you 'member?" + +"O, once I was grindin' coffee out there in a yellow chair, and +somebody she came and put me in the sink." + +"She does know--doesn't she?" said Dotty. "That was Ruthie; come out +in the kitchen and see her." + +But when Flyaway first looked into Ruth's smiling face, with its black +eyes and sharp nose, she could not remember that she had ever seen it +before. Abner, too, was strange to her. + +"Come here," said he, "and I can tell in a minute if you are a good +little girl." + +Flyaway cast down her soft eyes, and sidled along to Abner. + +"Here, touch this watch," said he, "and if you are a good little girl +it will fly open; if you are naughty it will stay shut." + +Flyaway looked askance at Abner, her finger in her mouth, but dared +not touch the watch. + +"Who'd 'a thought it, now?" said Abner, pretending to be shocked. +"Looks to be a nice child; but of course she isn't, or she'd come +right up and open the watch." + +Flyaway thrust another finger in her mouth, and pressed her eyelids +slowly together. Abner did not understand this, but it meant that he +had not treated her with proper respect. + +"Here, Ruth," said he, in a low tone, "hand me one of your plum tarts; +that'll fetch her.--Come here, my pretty one, and see what's inside of +this little pie." + +Flyaway was very hungry. She took a step forward, and held her hand +out, though rather timidly. + +"But she mustn't eat it without asking her mamma," said Ruth. + +"Yes; O, yes," cried Miss Flyaway, opening her little mouth for the +first time, and shutting it again over a big bite of tart; "I want to +eat it and _s'prise_ my mamma." + +Abner laughed in his hearty fashion. "Some of the old mischief left +there yet," said he, catching Flyaway and tossing her to the ceiling. +"Have you come here this summer to keep the whole house in commotion? +Remember the Charlie boy--don't you--that had the meal-bags tied to +his feet?" + +"Did he? What for?" + +Flyaway had not the least recollection of Charlie; but Horace had +talked to her about him, and she said, after a moment's thought,-- + +"Yes, he washed the pig. Me and Charlie, we played all everything what +we thinked about." + +"So you did, surely," said a woman who had just come in at the back +door, and begun to drop kisses, as sad as tears, on Flyaway's +forehead. "Do you know who this is?" Flyaway looked up with a sweet +smile, but her mind had lost all impression of her melancholy friend, +Miss Whiting. "Look again," said the sad-eyed stranger, who did not +like to have even a little child forget her; "you used to call me the +'Polly woman.'" + +Katie looked again, and this time very closely. + +"There's a great deal o' yellowness in your face," exclaimed she, +after a careful survey; "but you was made so!" + +Miss Polly laughed drearily. "So you don't remember how I took you out +of the watering-trough, you sweet lamb! 'I's tryin' to swim,' you +said; 'and _that's_ what is it.' Here's a summer-sweeting for you, +dear; do you like them?" + +"Yes'm, thank you," said Flyaway, "but I like summer-_sourings_ the +best." + +At the same time she allowed herself to be taken in Miss Polly's lap, +and won that tender-hearted woman's love by putting her arms round her +neck, and saying, "Let me kiss you so you'll feel all better. What +makes you have tears in your eyes?--tell me." + +"We're good friends--I knew we should be," said Miss Polly, quite +cheerily. "Look out of the window, and see that swing. How many times +I've pushed you and Dotty in that swing when it seemed as if it would +break my back!" + +Flyaway looked out. There stood the two trees, and between them hung +the old swing; but the charm was forgotten. In the field beyond, her +eye fell on an object more interesting to her. + +"O, O," said she, "I don't see how God _could_ make a man so homebly +as that!" + +"So homely as what?" + +"Why," laughed Dotty, "she means that scarecrow." + +The corn was up long ago, but one direful image had still been left to +flaunt in the sunlight and soak in the rain. + +"That isn't a man," said Prudy; "it's only a great monstrous rag baby, +with a coat on." + +"Put there to frighten away the crows," added Miss Polly. "When Abner +dropped corn in the ground, the great black crows wanted to come and +pick it out, and eat it up." + +Flyaway frowned in token of strong dislike to the crows. "I wouldn't +eat gampa's corn for anything in this world," said she,--"'thout it's +popped! 'Cause I don't like it." + +Miss Polly laughed quite merrily. + +"There," said she, "I've dropped a stitch in my side; it never agrees +with me to laugh. I must be going right home, too; but there is one +thing more I want to ask you, Katie; do you remember how you ran away, +one day, and frightened the whole house, trying to climb up to +heaven?" + +Katie's face was blank; she had forgotten the journey. + +"You passed Jennie Vance and me in the Pines," said Dotty, "and went +deep into the woods, and a bee stung you." + +"O, now I 'member," said Katie, suddenly. "I 'member the bee as plain +as 'tever 'twas!" And she curled her lip with contempt for that small +Flyaway, of long ago--that silly baby who had thought heaven was on a +hill. + +"_I_ went up on a ladder when I was three years old," said Prudy. + +"Did you?" said Flyaway. This was a consolation. "Well, I was three +years old, too; I didn't know 'bout angels--didn't know they had to +have wings on." + +Here Flyaway curled her lip again and smiled. + +"You are wiser now," sighed Miss Polly. "You and I won't try to go to +heaven till our time comes--will we, dear?" + +Katie took Miss Polly's large, thin hand, and measured it beside her +own tiny one. + +"Miss Polly," said she, with one of her extremely wise looks, "when +you go up to God you'll be a very little girl!" + +"Ah, indeed!" said Miss Polly, weaving the third pin into her shawl; +"how do you make that out?" + +"Your body'll all be cut off," replied Katie, making the motion of a +pair of scissors with her fingers; "all be cut right straight off; +there won't be nuffin' left but just your little spirit!" + +"Since you know so much, dear, how large is my spirit?" + +Katie put her hand on the left side of the belt of her apron. + +"Don't you call that small, right under my hand a-beatin'?" said she. +"'Bout's big as a bird, Miss Polly. Little round ball for a head, +little mites o' eyes; but you won't care--you can see _just_ as well." + +"It does beat all where children get such queer ideas--doesn't it, +Ruth?" said Miss Whiting. + +"Didn't you know it?" cried Katie, finding she had startled Miss +Polly. "Didn't you know you's goin' to be little, and fly in the air +just so?" throwing up her arms. "I want to go dreffully, for there's a +gold harp o' music up there, and I'll play on it: it'll be mine." + +"You don't feel in a hurry to die, I hope," said Miss Polly, +anxiously. + +Katie's eager face clouded. "No," said she, sorrowfully; "I want to, +but I hate to go up to God and leave my pink dress. I can't go into it +then, I'll be so little." + +"You'll be just big enough to go into the pocket," laughed Dotty. + +"Hush!" said Miss Polly, gravely; "you shouldn't joke upon such +serious subjects. Good by, children. Your house is full of company, +and I didn't come to stay. Here's a bag of thoroughwort I've been +picking for your grandmother; you may give it to her with my love, and +tell her my side is worse. I shall be in to-morrow." + +So saying, Miss Polly went away, seeming to be wafted out of the room +on a sigh. + +The high-chair was brought down from the attic for Flyaway, who sat +in it that evening at the tea-table, and smiled round upon her friends +in the most benevolent manner. + +"I's growing so big now, mamma," said she, coaxingly, "don't you spect +I must have some tea?" + +Grandmother pleaded for the youngest, too. "Let me give her some just +this once, Maria." + +"Well, _white_ tea, then," returned Mrs. Clifford, smiling; "and will +Flyaway remember not to ask for it again? Mamma thinks little girls +should drink milk." + +"Yes'm, I won't never. She gives it to me _this_ night, 'cause I's her +little _grand-girl_. Mayn't Hollis have it too, 'cause he's her little +grand-_boy_?" + +"Cunning as ever, you see," whispered the admiring Horace to cousin +Susy, who replied, rather indifferently,-- + +"No cunninger than our Prudy used to be." + +Flyaway made quick work of drinking her white tea, and when she came +to the last few drops she swung her cup round and round, saying,-- + +"Didn't you know, Hollis, that's the way gampa does, when _he_ gets +most froo, to make it sweet?" + +No, Horace had not noticed; it was "Fly, with her little eye," who saw +everything, and made remarks about it. + +"O, O," cried Grace, dropping her knife and fork, and patting her +hands softly under the table, "isn't it so nice to be at Willowbrook +again, taking supper together? Doesn't it remind you of pleasant +things, Susy, to eat grandma's cream toast?" + +"Reminds me," said Susy, after reflecting, "of jumping on the hay." + +"'Minds me of--of--" remarked Flyaway; and there she fell into a brown +study, with her head swaying from side to side. + +"I don't know why it is," said Prudy, "but since you spoke, this cream +toast makes me think of the rag-bag. Excuse me for being impolite, +grandma, but where _is_ the rag-bag?" + +"In the back room, dear, where it always is; and you may wheel it off +to-morrow." + +It had been Mrs. Parlin's custom, once or twice every summer, to allow +the children to take the large, heavy rag-bag to the store, and sell +its contents for little articles, which they divided among themselves. +Sometimes the price of the rags amounted to half or three quarters of +a dollar, and there was a regular carnival of figs, candy, and +fire-crackers. + +Horace was so much older now, that he did not fancy the idea of being +seen in the street, trundling a wheelbarrow; but he went on with his +cream toast and made no remark. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE RAG-BAG. + + +Next morning there was a loud call from the three Parlins for the +rag-bag, in which Flyaway joined, though she hardly knew the +difference between a rag-bag and a paper of pins. + +"I wish you to understand, girls," said Horace, flourishing his hat, +"that I'm not going to cart round any such trash for you this summer." + +"Now, Horace!" + +"You know, Gracie, you belong to a Girls' Rights' Society. Do you +suppose I want to interfere with your privileges?" + +"Why, Horace Clifford, you wouldn't see your own sister trundling a +wheelbarrow?" + +"O, no; I shan't be there," said Horace, coolly; "I shan't see you. I +promised to weed the verbena bed for your aunt Louise. Good by, girls. +Success to the rag-bag!" + +"Let's catch him!" cried Susy, darting after her ungallant cousin; but +he ran so fast, and flourished his garden hoe so recklessly, that she +gave up the chase. + +"Let him go," said Grace, with a fine-lady air: "who cares about +rag-bags? We've outgrown that sort of thing, you and I, Susy; let the +little girls have our share." + +"Yes, to be sure," replied Susy, faintly, though not without a pang, +for she still retained a childish fondness for jujube paste, and was +not allowed a great abundance of pocket-money. "Yes, to be sure, let +the _little_ girls have our share." + +"Then may we three youngest have the whole rag-bag?" said Prudy, +brightly. "Dotty, you and I will trundle the wheelbarrow, and Fly +shall go behind." + +"What an idea!" exclaimed Grace. "I've seen little beggar children +drawing a dog-cart. Grandma'll never allow such a thing." + +"Indeed I will," said grandma, tying on her checked apron. "Dog-carts +or wheel-barrows, so they only take care not to be rude. In a city it +is different." + +"Yes, grandma," said Dotty, twisting her front hair joyfully; "but +here in the country they want little girls to have good times--don't +they? Why don't everybody move into the country, do you s'pose? Lots +of bare spots round here,--nothing on 'em but cows." + +"Yes, nuffin' but gampa's cows," chimed in Flyaway, twisting _her_ +front hair. + +"Louisa," said Mrs. Parlin, "you may help me about this loaf of 'Maine +plum cake,' and while you are beating the butter and sugar I will look +over the rag-bag. Dotty, please run for my spectacles." + +When Dotty returned with the spectacles, Jennie Vance came with her, +pouting a little at the cool reception she had met, and thinking Miss +Dimple hardly polite because she was too much interested in an old +rag-bag to pay proper attention to visitors. + +"Grandma, what makes you pick over these rags? We can take them just +as they are." + +"I always do so, my dear, and for several reasons. One is, that +woollen pieces may have crept in by mistake. As we profess to sell +cotton rags, it would be dishonest to mix them with woollen." + +"Yes'm, I understand," said Jennie, who often spoke when it was quite +as well to keep silent; "it's always best to be honest--isn't it, Mrs. +Parlin?" + +The rags were spread out upon the table, giving Flyaway a fine +opportunity to scatter them right and left. + +"O, here's a splendid piece of blue ribbon to make my doll a bonnet," +said Dotty. + +"That's another reason why she picks 'em over," remarked Jennie; "so +she won't waste things. Only, Dotty, that has got an awful +grease-spot." + +"There, children," said Mrs. Parlin, presently, "I have taken out a +card of hooks and eyes, a flannel bandage, and a shoe-string. You may +have everything else." + +Dotty caught her grandmother's arm. "Please, grandma, don't sweep 'em +into the bag; let us look some more. I've just found a big Lisle +glove; if I can find another, then Abner can go blackberrying; he says +his hands are ever so tender." + +"And you thought he was in earnest," said Prudy. "While you are +looking, I'll go into the nursery and finish that holder." + +Flyaway, having climbed upon the table, had rolled herself into some +mosquito netting, like a caterpillar in a cocoon. They were all so +much interested, that grandma, in the kindness of her heart, did not +like to disturb them. + +"You are welcome to all the treasures you can find, but as soon as the +cake is made I shall want the table; so be quick," said she, looking +out from the pantry, where she was beating eggs. + +"Yes, indeed, grandma, we'll hurry; and may we have every single thing +we like the looks of? now, honest." + +"Yes, Dotty." + +Then Mrs. Parlin and Miss Louise talked about currants, and citron, +and quite forgot such trifles as rag-bags. + +"Here's another big glove," said Dotty, "not the same color, but no +matter; and here are some saddle-bags, Jennie. I'm going to be a +doctor." + +"Saddle-bags, Dotty! those are pockets." Jennie took them from Miss +Dimple's hands. They were held together by a narrow strip of brown +linen, and had once belonged to a pair of pantaloons. + +"I'm going to see if there isn't something inside," said Jennie. "Why, +yes, here's a raisin, true's you live. And here, in the other one,--O, +Dotty!" + +But Dotty had run into the nursery to show Prudy a muslin cap. + +"A wad of--" + +Jennie was determined to see what; so she unrolled it. + +"Scrip," cried she, holding up some greenbacks. + +"Skipt," echoed Flyaway, who had come out of the cocoon and gone into +the form of a mop, her head adorned with cotton fringe. + +Yes; a two dollar bill and a one dollar bill, as green as lettuce +leaves. This was a great marvel. Columbus was not half so much +surprised when he discovered America. + +"Mrs. Parlin, do you hear?" + +But Mrs. Parlin heard nothing, for the din of the egg-beating drowned +both the shrill little voices. + +A sudden idea came to Jennie. Whose money was this? Mrs. Parlin's? No; +hadn't Mrs. Parlin looked over the rags once, and said the children +might have what was left? "'You are welcome to all the treasures you +can find;' that was what she said," repeated Jennie to herself. "I'm +the one that found this treasure,--not Dotty, not Flyaway. This is +honest, and I do not lie when I say it." + +Jennie began to tremble, and a hot color flew into her cheeks, and +added new lustre to her black eyes. "If I could only make Flyaway +forget it," thought she, with a whirling sensation of anger towards +the innocent child, who knew no better than to proclaim aloud every +piece of news she heard. "I'll make her forget it." Jenny hastily +concealed the money in the neck of her dress. + +"Where's that skipt? that skipt?" said Flyaway. + +"Fly Clifford," said Jennie, severely, "you've climbed on the table! +Just think of it! Your grandmother doesn't allow you on her table. +What made you get up here." + +"'Cause," replied Flyaway, seizing the kitty by the tail, and +thrusting her into a cabbage-net, "'cause I fought best." + +"But you must get right down, this minute." + +"No," said Flyaway, shaking her head-dress of white fringe with great +solemnity; "I isn't goin' to get down." + +"Ah, but you must." + +Flyaway opened and shut her eyes slowly, in token of deep displeasure. +"I don't never 'low little girls to scold to me," said she. "You'd +better call grandma; 'haps _she_ can make me get down." + +But it was not Jennie's purpose to wait for that; she seized the +little one roughly by the arms, pulled her from the table, and hurried +her into the parlor. + +Flyaway was indignant. "Does you--feel happy?" said she, with a +reproachful glance at Jennie. + +"There, look out of the window, Flyaway, darling, and watch to see if +Horace isn't coming in from the garden." + +"Can't Hollis come, 'thout me watching him?" returned Flyaway, winking +slowly again, for her sweet little soul was stirred with wrath. The +memory of the "skipt" had indeed been driven away, and she could only +think,-- + +"Isn't Jennie so easy fretted! I wasn't doin' nuffin'; and then she +jumped me right down. Unpolite gell! that's one thing." + +And Jennie was thinking, "She never'll remember the money now, or, if +she does, I don't believe Mrs. Parlin will pay any attention to what +she says." Jennie was still very much excited, and wondered why she +trembled so. + +"I don't mean to keep it unless it's perfectly proper," thought she; +"I guess I know the eighth commandment fast enough. I shan't keep it +unless Dotty thinks best. I'll tell her, and see what she says." + +Jennie had often pilfered little things from her mother's cupboard, +such as cake and raisins; but a piece of money of the most trifling +value she had never thought of taking before. + +Leaving Flyaway busy with block houses, she ran to the nursery door, +and motioned with her finger for Dotty to come out. + +"What is it?" said Dotty, when they were both shut into the china +closet; "don't you want my sister Prudy to know?" + +Jennie replied, in a great flutter, "No, no, no. You musn't tell a +single soul, Dotty Dimple, as long as you live, and I'll give you +half." + +"Half what?" + +Jennie produced the money from her bosom, feeling, I am glad to say, +very guilty. "Out o' those saddle-bag pockets out there," added she, +breathlessly; "true's the world." + +"Why, Jennie Vance!" + +"One had a raisin in and a button, and nobody but me would have +thought of looking. You wouldn't--now would you? My father says I've +got such sharp eyes!" + +"H'm!" said Dotty, who considered her own eyes as bright as any +diamonds; "you took the saddle-bag right out of my hand. How do you +know I shouldn't have peeked in?" + +Jennie did not reply, but smoothed out the wrinkled notes with many a +loving pat. + +"What did grandma say?" asked Dotty; "wasn't she pleased?" + +"Your grandmother doesn't know anything about it, Dotty Dimple; what +business is it to her?" + +Jennie's tone was defiant. She assumed a courage she was far from +feeling. + +Dotty was speechless with surprise, but her eyes grew as round as +soap-bubbles. + +"The pockets don't belong to her, Dotty, and never did. They never +came out of any of her dresses--now did they?" + +Dotty's eyes swelled like a couple of bubbles ready to burst. + +"Jennie Vance, I didn't know you's a thief." + +"You stop talking so, Dotty. She was going to sweep everything into +the rag-bag--now wasn't she? And this money would have gone in too, if +it hadn't been for my sharp eyes--now wouldn't it?" + +"But it isn't yours, Jennie Vance--because it don't belong to you." + +"Now, Dotty--" + +"You go right off, Jennie Vance, and carry it to my grandma this +minute." + +The tone of command irritated Jennie. She had not felt at all decided +about keeping the money, but opposition gave her courage. Her temper +and Dotty's were always meeting and striking fire. + +"It isn't your grandma's pockets, Miss Parlin. If it was the last word +I was to speak, it isn't your grandmother's pockets!" + +"Jane Sidney Vance!" + +"You needn't call me by my middle name, and stare so at me, Dotty +Dimple. I was going to give you half!" + +"What do I want of half, when it isn't yours to give?" said Dotty, +gazing regretfully at the money, nevertheless. Three dollars! Why, it +was a small fortune! If it only did really belong to Jenny! + +"Your grandmother said everything we liked the looks of, Dotty. Don't +you like the looks of this?" + +"But you know, Jennie--" + +"O, you needn't preach to me. You wasn't the one that found it. If I'd +truly been a thief, or if I hadn't been a thief, it would have been +right for me to keep it, and perfectly proper, and not said a word to +you, either; so there." + +"Jennie Vance, I'm going right out of this closet, and tell my grandma +what you've said." + +"Wait, Dotty Dimple; let me get through talking. I meant to buy things +for your grandmother with it. O, yes, I did--a silk dress, and cap, +and shoes." + +Dotty twirled her hair, and looked thoughtful. + +"Of course I did. Wouldn't it surprise her, when she wasn't expecting +it? And Flyaway, too,--something for her. We wouldn't keep anything +for ourselves, only just enough to buy clothes and such things as we +really need." + +Before Dotty had time to reply there was a loud scream from the +parlor. + +"Fly is killed--she is killed!" cried Dotty; but Jennie had presence +of mind enough to tuck the bills into the neck of her dress. + +"Don't you tell anybody a word about it, Dotty. If you tell I'll do +something awful to you. Do you hear?" + +Dotty heard, but did not answer. The fate of her cousin Flyaway seemed +more important to her just then than all the bank-bills in the world. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE WICKED GIRL. + + +Flyaway had only been climbing the outside of the staircase, and would +have done very well, if some one had not rung the door-bell, and +startled her so that she fell from the very top stair to the floor. It +was feared, at first, that several bones were broken and her intellect +injured for life; but after crying fifteen minutes, she seemed to feel +nearly as well as before. + +"If ever a child was made of thistle-down it is Flyaway Clifford," +said aunt Louise. + +Still it was not thought best for her to fatigue herself that day by +selling rags, and the wheelbarrow enterprise was put off until the +next morning. + +The person who rang the door-bell was Mrs. Vance's girl Susan, who +called for Jennie to go home and try on a frock. Jennie did not +return, and Dotty had a sense of uneasiness all day. The guilty secret +of the three dollars weighed upon her mind. Should she, or should she +not, tell her grandmother? + +"I don't know but Jennie would do something to my things if I told," +thought she; "but then I never promised a word. Here it is four +o'clock. Who knows but she's gone and spent that money, and my +grandmother never'll know what's 'come of it?" + +This possibility was very alarming. "Jennie Vance doesn't seem to have +any little whisper inside of _her_ heart, that ticks like a watch; +but _I_ have. _My_ conscience pricks; so I know that perhaps it's my +duty to go and tell." + +Dotty drew herself up virtuously and looked in the glass. There she +seemed to see an angelic little girl, whose only wish was to do just +right--a little girl as much purer than Jennie Vance, as a lily is +purer than a very ugly toadstool. + +Well, Miss Dotty, there is some truth in the picture. Jennie is not a +good child; but neither are you an angel. There is more wickedness in +your proud little heart than you will ever begin to find out. And wait +a minute. Who teaches you all you know of right and wrong? Is it your +mother? Suppose she had died, as did Jennie's mamma, when you were a +toddling baby? + +There, that's all; you do not hear a word I say; and if you did, you +would not heed, O, self-righteous Dotty Dimple! + +Dotty ran up stairs to find her grandmother. + +"Grandma," whispered she, though there was no one else in the room; +"something dreadful has happened. You've lost three dollars!" + +"What, dear?" + +"O, you needn't look in your pocket. Jennie found 'em in the rag-bag, +and tried to make me take half; but of course I never; and now she's +run off with 'em!" + +"Found three dollars in the rag-bag? I guess not." + +"Yes, grandma; for I saw her just as she was going to find em', in a +pair of pockets. I should have seen 'em myself if she hadn't looked +first." + +"Indeed! Is this really so? But she ought to have come and given them +to me." + +"That was just what I told her, over and over, grandma, and over +again. But she's a dreadful naughty girl, Jennie Vance is. If there's +anything bad she can do, she goes right off and does it." + +"Hush, my child." + +"Yes'm, I won't say any more, _only_ I don't think my mother would +like to have me play with little girls that take money out of +rag-bags." + +Dotty drew herself up again in a very stately way. + +"Jennie _said_ she was going to buy you a silk dress and so forth; but +she does truly lie so, 'one to another,' that you can't believe her +for certain, not half she says." + +Grandma looked over her spectacles and through the window, as if +trying to see what ought to be done. + +[Illustration: "YOU CAN'T BELIEVE HER FOR CERTAIN."] + +"You did right to tell me this, my child," said she; "but I wish you +to say nothing about it to any one else: will you remember?" + +"Yes'm," replied Dotty, trying to read her grandmother's face, and +feeling a little alarmed by its solemnity. "What you going to do, +grandma? Not put Jennie in the lockup--are you? 'Cause if you do--O, +don't you! She said 'twas her sharp eyes, and she didn't mean to +steal, and 'twasn't your pockets, and she promised she'd give me +half--yes, she truly did, grandma." + +"Go, dear, and bring me my bonnet from the band-box in my bed-room +closet." + +Then Mrs. Parlin folded the sheet she was making, put on her best +shawl and bonnet, and kid gloves, and taking her sun umbrella, set out +for a walk. There was a look in her face which made her little +granddaughter think it would not be proper to ask any questions. + +Mrs. Parlin met Jennie Vance coming in at the gate. + +"O, dear," thought Dotty, "I don't want to see her. Grandma says I've +done right, but Jennie'll call me a tell-tale. I'll go out in the barn +and hide." + +The guilty secret had lain heavy at Jennie's heart all day. As soon as +her dress-maker could spare her, and a troublesome little cousin had +left, she asked permission to go to Mrs. Parlin's. + +"Dotty thinks I meant to keep it," she thought. "I never did see such +a girl. You can't say the least little thing but she takes it sober +earnest, and says she'll tell her grandmother." + +Jennie stole round by the back door, and timidly asked for Miss +Dimple. + +"I'm sure I don't know where she is," answered Ruthie, with a pleasant +smile; "nor Flyaway either. I have been living in peace for half an +hour." + +Ruthie made you think of lemon candy; she was sweet and tart too. + +While Jennie, with the kind assistance of Prudy, was hunting for +Dotty, Mrs. Parlin was in Judge Vance's parlor, talking with Jennie's +step-mother. Mrs. Vance was shocked to hear of her daughter's conduct, +for she loved her and wished her to do right. + +"My poor Jennie," said she; "from her little babyhood until she was +six years old, there was no one to take care of her but a hired nurse, +who neglected her sadly." + +"I know just what sort of training Jennie has had from Serena Pond," +said Mrs. Parlin; "it was most unfortunate. But you are so faithful +with her, my dear Mrs. Vance, that I do believe she will outgrow all +those early influences." + +"I keep hoping so," said Mrs. Vance, repressing a sigh; "I take it +very kindly of you, Mrs. Parlin, that you should come to me with this +affair. I shall not allow Jennie to go to your house very often. You +do not like to wound my feelings, but I am sure you cannot wish to +have your little granddaughter very intimate with a child who is sly +and untruthful." + +"My dear lady," said grandma Parlin, taking Mrs. Vance's hand, and +pressing it warmly; "since we are talking so freely together, and I +know you are too generous to be offended, I will confess to you that +if Jennie persists in concealing this money, I would prefer not to +have Dotty play with her very much; at least while her mother is not +here to have the care of her." It was hard for Mrs. Parlin to say +this, and she added presently,-- + +"Please let Jennie spend the night at our house. She may wish to talk +with me; we will give her the opportunity." + +Mrs. Vance gladly consented. She had observed that Jennie seemed +unhappy, and was very anxious to see Dotty again. She hoped she had +gone to return the money of her own free will. + +When Mrs. Parlin opened the nursery door at home, she found Jennie +building block houses, to Flyaway's great delight, while at the other +end of the room sat Dotty Dimple, resolutely sewing patchwork. + +"O, grandma," spoke up Flyaway, "Jennie came to see me; she didn't +come to see Dotty, 'cause Dotty don't want to talk. There, now, +Jennie, make a rat to put in the cupboard. R goes first to rat." + +Innocent little Flyaway! She had long ago forgotten her pique against +Jennie for being "so easy fretted," and jumping her down from the +table. + +Wretched little Jennie! The new blue and white frock, just finished by +her dress-maker, covered a heart filled with mortification. Dotty +Dimple would not talk to her. It seemed as if Dotty had climbed to the +top of a high mountain, and was looking down, down upon her. + +Dotty did feel very exalted to-day; but there was another reason why +she would not talk with Jennie: she might have to confess that grandma +knew about the money; and then what a scene there would be! So Dotty +set her lips together, and sewed as if she was afraid somebody would +freeze to death before she could finish her patchwork quilt. + +Mrs. Clifford, who did not understand the cause of Dotty's lofty mood, +took pity on Jennie, and tried to amuse her. After a while, Dotty came +softly along, and sat down close to her aunt Maria, ready to listen to +the story of the "Pappoose," though she had heard it fifty times +before. + +She did not see Jennie alone for one moment. Grandma Parlin did. +"Jennie," said she, taking her into the parlor to show her a new +shell, "are you going with our little girls, to-morrow, to sell rags?" + +"I don't know, ma'am, I'm sure," replied Jennie, looking hard at the +sofa. She longed to make an open confession, and get rid of the +troublesome money, but had not the courage to do it without some help +from Dotty. + +"O, dear," thought she, "I feel just as wicked with that money in my +bosom! Seems as if she could hear it crumple. If Dotty would only let +me talk to her first!" + +But Dotty continued as unapproachable as the Pope of Rome. Eight +o'clock came, and the two unhappy little girls went slowly up stairs +to bed. Dotty, in her lofty pride, tried to make her little friend +feel herself a sinner; while Jennie, ready to hide herself in the +potato-bin for shame, was, at the same time, very angry with the +self-satisfied Miss Dimple. She was awed by her superior goodness, but +did not love her any the better for it. Why should she? Dotty's +goodness lacked + + "_Humility_, that low, sweet root, + From which all heavenly virtues shoot." + +"Here, Miss Parlin," said Jennie, angrily, as she took off her dress; +"here it is, right in my neck. I should have gone and given it to your +grandmother, ever so long ago, if you hadn't acted so!" + +Dotty pulled off her stockings. + +"I 'spose you thought I was going to keep it. Here, take your old +money!" + +"You did mean to keep it, Jane Sidney Vance," retorted Dotty, as +fierce as a thistle; and finished undressing at the top of her speed. + +The money lay on the floor, and neither of the proud girls would pick +it up. Jennie, who always prayed at her mother's knee, forgot her +prayer to-night, and climbed into bed without it. But Dotty, feeling +more than ever how much better she was than her little friend, knelt +beside a chair, and prayed in a loud voice. First, she repeated the +"Lord's Prayer," then "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild," and "Now I lay +me down to sleep." She was not talking to her heavenly Father, but to +Jennie, and ended her petitions thus:-- + +"O God, forgive me if I have done anything naughty to-day; and please +forgive _Jennie Vance, the wickedest girl in this town_." + +Then the little Pharisee got into bed. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +"WHEELBARROWING." + + +"The wickedest girl in this town!" Jennie's eyes flashed in the dark +like a couple of fireflies. At first she was too angry to speak; and +when words did come, they were too weak. She wanted words that were so +strong, and bitter, and fierce, that they would make Dotty quail. But +all she could say was,-- + +"O, dreadful good you are, Miss Parlin! Good's the minister! Ah! guess +I'll get out and sleep on the floor!" + +Dotty made no reply, but rolled over to the front of the bed, and +Jennie pushed herself to the back of it. There the little creatures +lay in silence, each on an edge of the bedstead, and a whole mattress +between. Sleep did not come at once. + +"She's left that money on the floor," thought Dotty; "what if a mouse +should creep down the chimney, and gnaw it all up? But she must take +care of it herself. _I_ shan't!" + +And Jennie thought, wrathfully, "Dotty says such long prayers she +can't stop to pick up that scrip! If she expects me to get out of bed, +she's made a mistake; I won't touch her old money." + +About nine o'clock grandma Parlin came quietly into the room with a +lamp. A smile crept round the corners of her mouth, as she saw the +little girls sleeping so widely apart, their faces turned away from +each other. + +"How is this?" said she, as the two bills caught her eye. "Of all the +foolish children! Dropping money about the room like waste paper!" + +The light awoke Jennie, who had only just fallen asleep. "Now is the +time," said she to herself; and without waiting for a second thought, +which would have been a worse one, she sprang out of bed, and caught +Mrs. Parlin by the skirts. + +"That money is yours, Mrs. Parlin," said she, bravely. "Yours; I found +it in the rag-bag. Something naughty came into me this morning, and +made me want to keep it; but I'm ever so sorry, and never'll do it +again. Will you forgive me?" + +Then grandma Parlin seated herself in a rocking-chair, took Jennie +right into her lap, and talked to her a long while in the sweetest +way. Jennie curled her head into the good woman's neck, and sobbed +out all her wretchedness. + +"She knew she was real bad, and people didn't like to have her play +with their little girls, and Dotty Dimple thought she was awful; but +_was_ she the wickedest girl in this town?" + +"No; O, no!" + +"Wasn't Dotty some bad, too?" + +"Yes, Dotty often did wrong." + +Then Jenny wept afresh. + +"She knew she _was_ worse than Dotty, though. She wished,--O, dear, as +true as she lived,--she wished she was dead and buried, and drowned in +the Red Sea, and the grass over her grave, and shut up in jail, and +everything else." + +Then Mrs. Parlin soothed her with kind words, but told the truth with +every one. + +"No 'm," Jennie said; "it wasn't right to take fruit-cake without +leave, or tell wrong stories either; she wouldn't any more. Yes'm, she +would try to be good--she never had tried much.--Yes 'm, she would ask +God to help her. Should you suppose He would do it? + +"Yes 'm, she would ask Him not to let her have much temptation. She +did believe she would rather be a good girl--a real good girl, like +Prudy, _not like Dotty_!--than to have a velvet dress with spangles +all over it." + +All this while Dotty did not waken. In the morning she was surprised +to see her little bedfellow looking so cheerful. + +"I've told your grandmother all about it," said Jennie with a smile. +"I knew I did wrong, but I don't believe I should have meant to if you +hadn't acted so your _own_ self--now that's a fact." + +"You haven't seen my grandmother," returned Dotty, not noticing the +last clause of her friend's remark. "You dreamed it." + +"No, she came in here and forgave me. She's the best woman in this +world. What do you think she said about you, Dotty Dimple? She said +there were other little girls full as good as you are. There!" + +"O!" + +"Said you 'often did wrong,' that's _just_ what," added Jennie, +correcting herself, and making sure of the "white truth." + +Step by step Dotty came down from the mountain-top, and, before +breakfast was ready, had led her visitor through the morning dew to +the playhouse under the trees, chatting all the way as if nothing had +happened. + +It proved that the money belonged to Abner. He had missed it several +weeks before, and ever since that had been suspecting old Daniel +McQuilken, a day laborer, of stealing it. + +"I'm ashamed of it now," said Abner to Ruth, "though I didn't tell +anybody but you. I wish you'd mix a pitcher of sweetened water, and +let me take it out to the field to old Daniel. I feel as if I wanted +to make it up to him some way." + +Ruth laughed; and when Abner came into the house at ten o'clock, she +had a pitcher of molasses and water ready for him, also a plate of +cherry turnovers. Flyaway insisted upon toddling over the ground with +one of the turnovers in her apron. + +"Man," said she, when they reached the field, and she saw the Irishman +with his funny red and white hair, "what's your name, man?" + +He wiped his face with his checked shirt-sleeve, and took a turnover +from her hand, bowing very low as he did so. + +"Thank ee, my little lady; sense you're plazed to ask me,--my name's +Dannul." + +"O, are you?" said Flyaway, looking up in surprise at the large and +oddly-dressed stranger. "Are you Daniel? My mamma's just been reading +about you. You was in the lions' den--_wasn't_ you, Daniel?" + +Mr. McQuilken smiled at bareheaded, flossy-haired little Katie, and +replied, with a wink at Abner,-- + +"Fath, little lady, and I suppose I'm that same Dannul; but 'twas so +long ago I've clane forgot aboot it entirely." + +"O, did you? Well, you _was_ in the lions' den, Daniel, but they +didn't bite you, you know, 'cause you prayed so long and so loud, +with your winners up; and then God wouldn't let 'em bite." + +Old Daniel laid both his huge hands on Katie's head. + +"Swate little chirrub," said he, "don't she look saintish?" + +Katie moved away; she did not like to have her hair pulled, and Daniel +was unconsciously drawing it through the big cracks in his fingers, as +if he was waxing silk. + +"I guess I'll go home now," said she, with a timid glance at the man +whom the lions did not bite; "they'll be spectin' me." + +Abner and Daniel both watched the tiny figure across the fields till +Ruth came out to meet it, and it fluttered into the east door of the +house. + +"There, she's safe," said Abner; "she needs as much looking after as +a young turkey." + +"She runs like a little sperrit, bliss her swate eyes," said Daniel. +"I had one as pooty as her, but she's at Mary's fate, Hivven rist her +sowl!" + +The moment Flyaway reached the house, she rushed into the parlor to +tell her mother the news. + +"The man you readed about in the book, mamma, he's out there! Daniel, +that the lions didn't bite, mamma, 'cause he prayed so long and so +loud with his winners up; he's out there--got a hat on." + +"O, no, my child; it is thousands of years since Daniel was in the +lions' den; he died long and long ago." + +"But he said he did, mamma; he told me so. I _fought_ he was dead, +mamma, but he said he wasn't." + +Mrs. Clifford shook her head. "I dare say his name is Daniel, but he +was never in a lion's den." + +Flyaway opened and closed her eyes in the slowest and most impressive +manner. "Mamma," said she, solemnly, "does--folks--tell--lies?" + +It was an entirely now idea to the innocent child: it stamped itself upon +her mind like a motto on warm sealing-wax, "Folks--does--tell--lies." + +Mrs. Clifford was sorry to see the look of distrust on the young face. + +"Listen to me, little Flyaway. I think the man was in sport; he was +only playing with you, as Horace does sometimes, when he calls himself +your horse." + +Flyaway said no more, but she pressed her eyelids together again, and +felt that she had been trifled with. Half an hour afterwards Prudy +heard her repeating, slowly, to herself, "Folks--does--tell--lies." + +"Why, here she is," called Dotty from the piazza; "come, Fly; we're +going wheel-barrowing." + +"Wait a minute, cousin Dotty," said Mrs. Clifford; "Flyaway must put +on a clean frock; she is not coming home with you, but you are to +leave her at aunt Martha's. I shall meet her there at dinner time." + +"O, mamma, may I? I love you a hundred rooms full. Let me go bring my +_buttoner bootner_ quick's a minute." + +Flyaway was not long in getting ready. She was never long about +anything. + +"You said we might have all the money, we three--didn't you, grandma?" +asked Dotty again, at the last moment, thinking how glad she was +Jennie had gone home, and would not claim a share. + +"Yes," replied patient grandma for the fifth time; "you may do +anything you like with it, except to buy colored candy." + +As they were trundling the wheelbarrow out of the yard, Horace came up +from the garden. + +"Prudy," said he, with rather a shame-faced glance at his favorite +cousin, "you girls will cut a pretty figure, parading through the +streets like a gang of pedlers. Come, let me be the driver." + +"O, we thought you couldn't leave your flower-beds, sir," replied +Prudy, sweeping a courtesy. + +"Well, the weeds _are_ pretty tough, ma'am; roots 'way down in China, +and the Emperor objects to parting with 'em; but--" + +"Poh! we don't need any boys," cried the self-sustained Miss Dimple; +"if your hands are too soft, Prudy, you mustn't push. Wait and see +what Dotty Dimple can do." + +"O, then, if you spurn me and my offer, good by. I suppose my little +Topknot goes for _surplusage_," said Horace, who liked now and then to +puzzle Dotty with a new word. He meant that Flyaway was of no use, but +rather in the way. + +"No, she needn't do any such thing," returned Dotty. "Jump in, Fly, +and sit on the bag." And off moved the gay little party, "the +middle-aged sister" laughing so she could hardly push, Flyaway dancing +up and down on the rag-bag, like a humming-bird balancing itself on a +twig; Grace and Susy looking down from the "green chamber" window, and +saying to each other, with wounded family pride, "_Should_ you think +grandma would allow it?" Out in the street the young rag-merchants +were greeted by a cow lowing dismally. Flyaway, in her rustic +carriage, felt as secure as the fabled "kid on the roof of a house;" +so she called out, "Don't cry, old cow; I 'shamed o' you." + +At this Prudy and Dotty laughed harder than ever. + +"'Sh right up, old cow," said Flyaway, standing on her "tipsy-toes," +and making a threatening gesture with her little arms; "'Sh right +up!--O, why don't that cow mind in a minute?" + +In her earnestness the little girl pushed the bag to one side, and +Prudy and Dotty, shaking with laughter, tipped over the wheelbarrow. +No harm was done except to give Flyaway a dust-bath in her nice clean +frock. Just as they were struggling with the bag, to get it in again, +they were overtaken by a droll-looking equipage. It was a long house +on wheels, and instantly reminded Dotty of Noah's ark. + +"O, a house a-ridin'! a house a-ridin'!" exclaimed Flyaway, gazing +after it with the greatest astonishment. + +Dotty thought the world was going topsy-turvy. She looked at the trees +to see if they stood fast in the ground. But Prudy explained it as +soon as she could stop laughing. + +"Only a photograph saloon," said she. "Didn't you ever see one before? +We don't have them in the city going round so, but things are +different in the country. Let's watch and see where it stops." + +"O, dear me," said Dotty; "I shouldn't want to live in a house that +couldn't stand still! Stove tipping over, and the gingerbread falling +out of the oven! There, I declare!" + +The look of wonder on Dotty's face was so amusing that Prudy was +obliged to hold on to her sides. + +"There, look!" said she; "it has stopped down by the corner. Now the +man can bake his gingerbread if he wants to, and the stove won't tip +over. Jump in, Flyaway, and finish your ride." + +"No-o," said Flyaway, wavering between her fear of the cow, some yards +ahead, and her fear of the rocking, unsteady wheelbarrow. "Guess I +won't get in no more, Prudy; it wearies me." + +"Wearies you?" + +"Yes: don't you know what 'wearies' means, Prudy? It means it makes me +a--a--little--scared!" + +And in her "weariness" Flyaway nestled between her two cousins, and +kept fast hold of their skirts till the cow was safely passed and the +red store reached. + +"Bravo!" exclaimed Mr. Bradley, the merchant, as he came out and +dragged the rag-bag into the store; "so you've taken the business into +your own hands, my little women? Ah, this is a progressive age! Walk +in--walk in." + +Prudy blushed, Dotty smiled, and Flyaway took off her hat, as she +usually did when she did not know what else to do. + +"Take some seats, young ladies," said Mr. Bradley, placing three +chairs in a row, and bowing as if to the most distinguished visitors. +Two or three men, who were lounging about the counter, looked on with +a smile. Dotty was very well satisfied, for she enjoyed attention; but +Prudy, who was older, and had a more delicate sense of propriety, +blushed and cast down her eyes. She had thought nothing of driving a +wheelbarrow through the street, but now, for the first time, a feeling +of mortification came over her. If Mr. Bradley would only keep quiet! + +"A fine morning, my young friends! Rather warm, to be sure. And so you +have brought rags to sell? Would you like the money for them, or do +you think we can make a trade with some articles out of the store?" + +"Grandma said we could have the money between us, we three," replied +Dotty, with refreshing frankness, "and buy anything we please except +red and yellow candy." + +"I want a _music_," said Flyaway, in an eager whisper; "a music, and a +ollinge, and a pig." + +"Hush!" said Prudy, for the man with a piece of court-plaster on his +cheek was certainly laughing. + +Mr. Bradley took the bag into another room to weigh it. A boy was in +there, drawing molasses. "James," said Mr. Bradley, "run down cellar, +and bring up some beer for these young ladies." + +There was a smile on James's face as he drove the plug into the +barrel. Prudy saw it through the open door, and it went to her heart. +The cream beer was excellent, but Prudy did not relish it. She and +Dotty had been whispering together. + +"We will take two thirds of the rags in money, if you please," said +Prudy, in such a low tone that Mr. Bradley had to bend his ear to +hear. + +"Because," added Dotty, who wished to have everything clearly +explained, "because we want to have our tin-types taken, sir. We saw +a saloon riding on wheels, and we thought we'd go there, and see if +the man wasn't ready to take pictures." + +"And our little cousin may use her third, and buy something out of the +store, if you please," said the blushing Prudy. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +TIN-TYPES. + + +Mr. Bradley said he did not often allow any one behind his counter, as +all the boys in the village could testify; but these young ladies were +welcome in any part of the store. + +"That little one is the spryest child I ever saw," said the man with +the court-plaster, as Flyaway hovered about the candy-jars, like a +butterfly over a flower-bed. "She isn't a Yankee child--is she?" + +"No, sir," replied Dotty, quickly; "she is a _westerness_." + +She had heard Horace use the word, and presumed it was correct. + +"I do wish Dotty would be more afraid of strangers," thought Prudy. "I +never will take her anywhere again--with a wheelbarrow." + +Flyaway fluttered around for a minute, and then alighted upon her +favorite sweet-meats, "_pepnits_." She chose for her portion a large +amount of these, an harmonica, and a sugar pig, which Dotty assured +her was not "colored." "Nothing but pink dots, and those you can pick +off." + +"The rags came to seventy-five cents, and this young lady has now had +her third; here is the remainder," said Mr. Bradley, smiling as he +gave each of the little Parlins some money, and bowed them out of the +store. + +"I'll put it in _my_ porte-monnaie, sir; my sister Prudy didn't bring +hers." + +"What makes you talk so much, Dotty Dimple?" said Prudy, "that man +has been making sport of us all the time." + +"Did he?" said Dotty, solemnly. "I'm 'stonished at grandma Parlin +letting us sell rags! Wish this wheelbarrow was in the _Stiftic +Ocean_." + +"But it isn't, little sister, and the worst of it is, we've got to +take it to the photograph saloon; it's so far home and back again." + +"Got to take the ole _wheelbarrel_ every single where we go," pouted +Flyaway, as drearily as either of her cousins. + +"You needn't mind it, though," said Dotty, giving the one-wheeled +coach a hard push; "a little girl that's going visiting, and have +succotash for dinner." + +"I didn't know I was. O, I _am_ so glad! What is it!" + +"Corn and beans. Aunt Martha's girl is the best cook,--makes cherry +pudding. Dear, dear, dear! Wish I was in Portland; see 'f I wouldn't +go to Tate Penny's, and have some salmon and ice-cream!" + +Down the beautiful shaded street walked the three little rag-pedlers; +and it did seem as if they were met by all the people in town, from +the minister down to the barefoot boys going fishing. At last they +arrived at the house on wheels. + +"Now I'll tell you, Fly, what we're going to do," said Prudy. "Dotty +and I want to have our tin-types taken, to give to grandma, as a +pleasant surprise. We'll pay for yours too, if you'll sit for it." + +"_Tin-tybe_? Of course, indeed I will. Won't I have nuffin to do but +just sit still? But I'd rather be gentle (generous), and give it to my +mamma." + +"Well, to your mamma, then. What will be the harm, Dotty, in leaving +this wheelbarrow out here at the door?" + +"I don't know," said Dotty; "I hope there won't any 'bugglers' come +along, and steal it." + +"I shall watch it," replied Prudy, with a care-worn look; and they all +went up the steps and entered the little picture-gallery. + +The windows were closed, and the odor of chemicals was so stifling, +that the children almost gasped for breath. The artist seemed glad to +see them, made no remarks about the wheelbarrow, though he must have +noticed it, and said he would be ready in a few minutes. While they +waited, they walked about the room, looking at the pictures on the +walls. + +"See," said Dotty; "there is Abby Grant, with her hair frizzed. Prudy" +(in a low whisper), "you don't s'pose he will carry us off--do you? I +forgot about the wheels, or I wouldn't have come! O, see that little +boy; hands as big as my father's! Here comes Jennie Vance; I'm going +to call her in." + +Dotty had forgotten her contempt for her lively friend. Jennie came +in, twirling the rim of her hat, and looking quite gratified by this +mark of friendship in Dotty. + +"Going to have your picture taken, Dotty Dimple? Well, so I would if I +was as pretty as you are. O, dear" (with a sly peep at the glass), "I +wish I wasn't so homely." + +Now Jennie was a handsome child, and knew it well; but Dotty took her +wail in earnest. "Why, Jennie," said she, with ready sympathy, "I +don't think you're so _very_ homely; not half so homely, any way, as +some of the girls at Portland." + +Jennie frowned and bit her thumb. Prudy smiled "behind her mouth," but +Dotty was serenely unconscious that she had given offence. By this +time the artist was ready, and thought it best to try Flyaway first; +for he had had enough experience with children to see at a glance that +this one would be as difficult to "take" as a bird on the wing. Prudy +made sure the wheelbarrow was safe, and then turned to arrange her +little cousin. + +"Here, put your hands down in your lap." + +Up went the little hands to the flossy hair. "It won't stay, Prudy, +_or nelse_ you tie it." + +"I shall brush it, the very last minute, Flyaway. All you must do is +sit still. Mayn't she look at your watch, sir, just to keep her eyes +from moving?" + +"No matter what she looks at," replied the artist; "but she must keep +that little head of hers straight." + +His tone was firm; he hoped to awe her into quietness. Flyaway was +frightened, and clung to Prudy for protection. "Don't the gemplum love +little gee--urls?" said she, in a voice as low and sad as a dying +dove's. + +Mr. Poindexter laughed, and stroked the beautiful floss lovingly. + +"Just turn your sweet little face this way, dear child; that's all." + +"O, my shole! Must I turn my face to my back!" said Flyaway, +bewildered. + +"No, no; look at this picture on the wall. See what it is, so you can +tell your mother." + +"It's a bridge, and a man, and a fish," said Flyaway, flashing a +glance at it. + +"There, smooth your forehead; now you will do." And so she did, for +two seconds, till she began to squint, to see whether it was a fish or +a dog; and that picture was spoiled. + +Next time she tried so very hard to sit still that she swayed to and +fro like a slender-stemmed flower when the wind goes over it. The +picture was blurred. + +"O, Fly, you must keep your shoulders still," said Prudy, looking as +anxious as the old woman in the shoe. + +"I didn't never want to come here," said the child; "when I sit so +still, Prudy, it 'most gives me a pain." + +"But you haven't sat still yet, not a minute." + +"I could, you know, Prudy, _or nelse_ I didn't have to breeve," +groaned Flyaway, lifting her eyebrows. + +"Another one spoiled," said the artist, trying to smile. + +"Yes," said Dotty, who felt none of the care. "Once it was her head, +and then it was her shoulders; and now her eyebrows are all of a +quirk." + +Poor little Flyaway felt as much out of place as a grape-vine would +feel, if it had to make believe it was a pine tree. + +"Wisht I'd said 'no,' 'stead o' 'yes,'" murmured she, puckering her +mouth to the size of a very small button-hole. + +"This will never do," said the patient artist, almost in despair. +"Hold your little chin up, there's a lady. Don't put it in your neck. +Now! Ready!" + +But at the critical moment there was a jerk, and Flyaway cried out,-- + +"I've got a sneeze; but, O, dear, I can't sneeze it." + +"Why, where's that head of yours, little Tot? I declare, I believe it +goes on wires, like a jumping-jack." + +"My head's wrong side up," said Flyaway, mournfully; "my mother said +it was." + +Mr. Poindexter laughed: it was impossible to be vexed with such a +gentle child as Flyaway. "Really, my young friends," said he, rubbing +his stained fingers through his hair, "I believe I shall be obliged to +give it up for the present. Have the child's mother come with her +to-morrow, and we'll do better, I am sure." + +With the likenesses of the other girls he succeeded very well; and +Prudy and Dotty were glad to find, that after paying for theirs, they +each had ten cents left. + +"Now, Fly, we will go to aunt Martha's." + +But Fly was amusing herself by scraping dirt out of the cracks of her +boots with a bit of glass. + +"Dotty won't be to aunt Marfie's. I don't want to stay where Dotty +isn't." + +"But your mamma will be there, you know; and I told you what they are +going to have for dinner." + +"Yes, _secretary_," said Flyaway, proud of her memory. "She is a very +nice _cooker_, but you'll have hard work to get me to go." + +She drawled out the words languidly, and seemed on the point of going +to sleep. + +"O, girls, girls, girls," cried Prudy, opening the door and looking +out, "our wheelbarrow is gone--it's gone!" + +"It's bugglers; I told you so," said Dotty. + +Mr. Poindexter was quite amused by his little sitters. "I saw that you +came in a coach," said he, "and without any horses." + +"Our grandmother said we might," spoke up Dotty, anxious to divert all +blame from herself. "She said we might; but Prudy ought to have gone +straight home. I knew it all the time." + +"I dare say some one has driven off your carriage in sport," said the +kind-hearted photographer; "never fear." + +"O, no, sir; it was new and red. Folks wanted it to haul stones in, +and that was why they took it," said Dotty, wrathfully. + +The children looked up street and down street. No wheelbarrow in +sight. "We must go to aunt Martha's, and then come back and hunt for +it, if we have to go without our dinners," they said. They took +Flyaway between them, and marched her off. She was almost as passive +as a rag baby, ready to drop down anywhere, and fall asleep. "'Cause I +_am_ so tired," said she. + +Aunt Martha cordially invited the two cousins to dine. They thanked +her, but no, they must find the wheelbarrow. "We shan't say, certain +positive, that bugglers took it, but we s'pose so," said Dotty, +softening her judgment, as she remembered her mistake about the +"screw-up pencil." They went home through the broiling sun, but found +no trace of the wheelbarrow. + +"It's a dreadful thing," said Prudy, lazily, "but I don't feel as bad +as I should if I was fairly awake." + +"Me, too," yawned Dotty; "I wish we could lie down under the trees, +and go to sleep." + +They had been a long while in the close saloon, inhaling ether, and +this was the cause of their languor. As they entered the yard they met +Horace. + +"O, dear," said Dotty, trying to look as sorry as she knew she ought +to feel, "that wheel--" + +"What!" exclaimed Prudy. + +There, under a syringa tree in the garden, stood the wheelbarrow. The +girls rubbed their eyes, and wondered if they were walking in their +sleep. + +"That thing trundled itself in here about half an hour ago," said +Horace, gravely. "You may know I was surprised to look up, and see it +coming without hands, just rolling along like a velocipede." + +Dotty eyed the runaway wheelbarrow stupidly. "I don't believe it," +said she, flatly. + +Horace laughed; and then the fog cleared away from Dotty's mind in a +minute. + +"Why, girls," said he, "how long did you think I could wait to haul +off my weeds? You were gone two hours. I watched you on your parade, +and followed at a respectful distance." + +"There, Horace Clifford!" + +"In order not to disturb the procession. Then, when I saw you going +into the saloon, I went up and claimed my wheelbarrow. Didn't want it +any longer--did you?" + +"No, and never want it again," said Prudy. + +"By the way, here's a conundrum for you, girls, Why's a wheelbarrow +like a potato?" + +"I shouldn't think it was like it at all," answered Dotty. "Where did +you read that?" + +"Didn't read it anywhere. I've given up books since I undertook +gardening. Never was much of a bookworm. Make a very respectable +_earth-worm_; ask aunt Louise if I don't." + +The little girls entered the house, too tired and sleepy to make any +reply. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +WAKING. + + +Flyaway was very much sleepier than either of her cousins, and really +did not know where she was, or what she was doing. Lonnie Adams, a boy +of Horace's age, tried to interest her. He made believe the old cat +was a sheep, killed her with an iron spoon, and hung her up by the +hind legs for mutton, all which Pussy bore like a lamb, for she had +been killed a great many times, and was used to it. But it did not +please Flyaway; neither did aunt Martha's collection of shells and +pictures call forth a single smile. There was a beautiful clock in +the parlor, and the pendulum was in the form of a little boy swinging; +but Flyaway would not have cared if it had been a gallows, and the boy +hanging there dead. + +Uncle John took her on his knee, asked her what her name was, where +she lived, and whom she loved best; but she only answered she "didn't +know." She might have been Daniel in the lions' den, or Joseph in the +pit, for all the difference to her. + +"How very singular!" said aunt Martha. "I wish her mother would come. +Do feel her pulse, John, and see if it is fever." + +"Nothing of the kind," said uncle John, as the little one's head +dropped on his shoulder. "Overcome by the heat; that's all. I'll just +lay her down on the sofa." + +When Mrs. Clifford came, she was surprised to find the child fast +asleep. She would not have her wakened for dinner; so Flyaway missed +her "secretary." But when it was three o'clock, and she still slept, +Mrs. Clifford feared something was wrong, and decided to take her +home. Uncle John had "Lightning Dodger" harnessed, and brought around +to the door. + +"Wake up, little daughter," said Mrs. Clifford; "we are going home +now." + +Flyaway looked around vacantly, her eyes as heavy as drenched violets. + +"You must come again, and stay longer," said aunt Martha; "it is +hardly polite not to let little girls have their dinners--do you think +it is?" + +"Yes 'm," replied Flyaway, faintly. She did not understand a word any +one said; it all sounded as indistinct as the roaring of a sea-shell. +By the time she was lifted into her mother's arms in the carriage, +she was nodding again. When they reached home she scarcely spoke, +but, dropping upon the sofa, went on with her dreams. It was odd for +Flyaway to take a nap in the daytime, and such a long one as this! + +"It must be a very warm day," said Mrs. Parlin, "for Prudy and Dotty +have been asleep too." + +"Where did they go after they sold the rags?" asked Mrs. Clifford; +"they all look pale." + +"To a photograph saloon. Here are the tin-types they brought home to +me," replied grandma, producing them from her pocket, with a gratified +smile. + +"Very good, mother--don't you think so? I would be glad to have as +truthful a likeness of our little Katie; but she must be taken asleep. +I wonder, by the way, if there wasn't something in the air of the +saloon which made the children all so languid?" + +"Why, yes, Maria; very likely it was the ether. Now you speak of it, I +am confident it must have been the ether." + +"I knew just such an instance before," said Mrs. Clifford; "and that +is why I happened to think of it now." + +About four o'clock Flyaway came to her senses. + +"Where's the wheelbarrel?" said she, rubbing her eyes. + +"O, Horace came and took it," said Dotty. "Hasn't this been the +queerest day!" + +"You said you's goin' to take me to aunt Marfie's; why didn't you?" + +"O, we did; we took you, you know." + +"Dotty Dimpul, I shouldn't think you'd make any believe." + +"I'm not 'making any believe'--am I, Prudy?" + +"No, Fly, she isn't. We pulled you along,--don't you remember?--and +you hung back, and said, 'I _am_ so tired.'" + +"I don't 'member," said Flyaway, slowly and sadly. "I shouldn't think +_you'd_ make any believe, Prudy." + +"We'll ask your mamma, then; she tells the truth. Aunt 'Riah, didn't +we take Flyaway to aunt Martha's this morning, and didn't you go there +too?" + +"Certainly," said Mrs. Clifford; "but it wasn't much of a visit,--was +it, darling!--when you slept most of the time, and didn't have a +mouthful of dinner?" + +Flyaway sighed heavily, and looked at her mother. "O, mamma! mamma!" + +"What is it, dear?" + +"O, mamma," repeated she, sorrowfully, "why did you say those words?" + +"What words, darling?" + +"Those naughty, naughty words, mamma." Flyaway's gentle eyes were +afloat. She crossed the room, and knelt by Mrs. Clifford's chair, +looking up at her with an expression of anguish. + +"That man, he wasn't in the lions' den, that prayed so long and so +loud, mamma." + +"Well, dear." + +"_He_ telled a wrong story to me, mamma." + +"My darling baby," said Mrs. Clifford, catching Flyaway in her arms, +"do you think your own dear mother is telling you a wrong story this +minute?" + +"'Cause, 'cause, mamma, I didn't go to aunt Marfie's!" + +"Yes, you did, my precious daughter; but you were asleep and dreaming. +We brought you home in the carriage, and you didn't know it. Can't you +believe it because I say so?" + +Flyaway made no reply except to curl her head under Mrs. Clifford's +arm, like a frightened chicken under its mother's wing. Mrs. Clifford +looked troubled. She was afraid the little one could not be made to +understand it. Horace came to her aid. + +"Hold up your head, little Topknot, and hear brother talk. Once there +were three little girls, and they all travelled round with a +wheelbarrow. By and by they came to a man's house on wheels." + +"Yes," said Flyaway, starting up; "I 'member." + +"And the wee girl, with dove's eyes--" + +"O, O, that's me!" + +"She couldn't keep still, and couldn't get any picture." + +"No, _tin-tybe_; 'cause--'cause--" + +"And all the while there was something in the man's house they kept +breathing into their noses, and it made them grow sleepy." + +"Just so?" asked Flyaway, sniffing. + +"Yes; and by and by the little one with dove's eyes was as stupid as +that woman you saw lying down in the street with the pig looking at +her." + +"Me? Was I a _drunken_?" said Flyaway, in a subdued tone. + +"O, no," put in Dotty; "it wasn't whiskey, it was _either_; and I +didn't know much more than you did, Fly Clifford. That was why I lost +your money, Prudy; I just about know it was." + +Flyaway began to understand. The look of fear and distrust went out of +her eyes, and she threw her arms round her mother's neck, kissing her +again and again. + +"_'Haps_ I did go to aunt Marfie's, mamma; _'haps_ I was asleep!" + +"That's right, Miss Topknot," cried Horace; "now your brother'll carry +you pickaback." + +A little while afterward Mrs. Clifford began a letter to her husband. + +"I am going to tell papa about his little girl--that she is very +well." + +"O, no, you needn't, mamma," said Flyaway, laughing; "papa knows it. I +was well at home." + +"What shall I tell him, then?" + +Flyaway thought a moment. + +"Tell him all the folks doesn't tell lies," said she, earnestly; "only +but the naughty folks tells lies." + +So that was settled; and Flyaway decided to write off the whole story, +and send to her father--a mixture of little sharp zigzags, curves, and +dots. When Horace asked her what these meant, she said "she couldn't +'member now; but papa would know." + +There was another matter which troubled grandma Parlin somewhat. Dotty +had gone to the store, after dinner, with two ten-cent pieces in her +porte-monnaie. She had bought for herself some jujube paste, but in +returning had lost the other dime. + +"Grandma, do you think that is fair?" said Prudy. "She has lost my +money, but she doesn't care at all; only laughs. I was going to put it +with some more I had, and buy mother a collar." + +"No, it is not right," replied grandma. "I will talk with her, and try +to make her willing to give you some of hers in return." + +Ah, grandma Parlin, you little knew what you were undertaking when you +called Dotty Dimple into the back parlor next morning, and began to +talk about that money! Children's minds are strange things. They are +like bottles with very small necks; and when you pour in an idea, you +must pour very slowly, a drop at a time, or it all runs over. Dotty +did not know much more about money than Flyaway. + +"My child," said her grandmother, "it seems you have lost something +which belonged to Prudy." + +Dotty looked up carelessly from the picture of a rose she held in her +hand, which she meant to adorn with yellow paint. + +"O, yes 'm; you mean that money." + +"There are several things you don't know, Dotty; and one is, that you +have no right to lose other people's things." + +"No 'm." + +"The money you dropped out of your porte-monnaie, yesterday, was +Prudy's, not yours; and what are you going to do about it?" + +"Let me see; my mother'll come to-morrow; I'll ask her to give me some +more." + +"But is that right? Dotty lost the money; must not Dotty be the one to +give it back?" + +"O, grandma, I can't find it! The wind blew it away, or a horse +stepped on it. I can't find it, certainly." + +"No; but you have money of your own. You can give some of that to +Prudy." + +"Why-ee!" moaned Dotty. "Prudy's got ever so much. O, grandma, she +has; and my box is so empty it can't but just jingle." + +"But, my dear, that has nothing to do with the case. If Prudy has a +great deal of money, you have no right to lose any of it. Don't you +think you ought to give it back?" + +"O, no, grandma--I don't; because she doesn't need it! I wish she'd +give _me_ ten cents, for I do need it; I haven't but a tinty, tonty +mite." + +Here Dotty threw herself on the sofa, the picture of despair. Grandma +was perplexed. Had she been pouring ideas into Dotty's mind too fast? +What should she say next? + +"My dear little girl, suppose Prudy should lose some of your +money--what then?" + +"I shouldn't like it at all, grandma. Don't let her go to my box--will +you?" + +"Selfish little girl!" said grandma, looking keenly at Dotty's +troubled face. "You would expect Prudy to return every cent, if she +were in your place." + +"Because--because--grandma--" + +"Yes; and when I explain your duty to you, you don't understand me. +You would understand if you were not so selfish!" + +Dotty winced. + +"Don't come to me again, and complain of Jennie Vance." + +Dotty could not meet her grandmother's searching gaze: it seemed to +cut into her heart like a sharp blade. + +"Am I as bad as Jennie Vance? Yes, just us bad; and grandma knows it. +But then," said she aloud, though very faintly, "Prudy needn't have +put it in my porte-monnaie; she might have known I'd lose it." + +"Dotty, I am not going to say any more about it now. You may think it +over to-day, and decide for yourself whether you are following the +Golden Rule. Or, if you choose, you may wait and talk with your +mother." + +"Yes 'm." Dotty was glad to escape into the kitchen. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +AUNT POLLY'S STORY. + + +Flyaway sat on the kitchen floor, feeding Dinah with a roasted apple. +As often as Dinah refused a teaspoonful, she put it into her own +mouth, saying, with a wise nod, "My child, she's sick; hasn't any +_appletite_." + +Out of doors it was raining heartily. It seemed as if the "upper deep" +was tipping over, and pouring itself into the lap of the earth. + +"O, Ruthie," sighed Dotty Dimple, "my mother won't come while it's +such weather. Do you s'pose 'twill ever clear off?" [Blank Page] + +[Illustration: FLYAWAY AND DINAH.] + +"Yes, I do," replied Ruth, trimming a pie briskly; "it only began last +night at five." + +"Why, Ruthie Dillon! it began three weeks ago, by the clock! Don't you +know that day I couldn't go visiting? Only sometimes it stops a while, +and then begins again." + +"If you're going to have the blues, Miss Dotty, I'll thank you kindly +just to take yourself out of this kitchen. Polly Whiting is here, and +she is as much as a body can endures in this dull weather." + +"It's pitiful 'bout the rain, Dotty; but you mustn't scold when God +sended it," said Flyaway, dropping the feeble Dinah, and pursuing her +cousin round the room with a pin. In a minute they were both laughing +gayly, till Flyaway caught herself on her little rocking-chair, and +"got a _torn_ in her apron." That ended the sport. + +"What shall I do to make myself happy?" said Dotty, musingly; for she +wished to put off all thought of Prudy's money. "I should like to roll +out some thimble-cookies, but Ruthie hasn't much patience this +morning. I never dare do things when her lips are squeezed together +so." + +But Flyaway dared do things. She took up the kitty, and played to her +on the "music," till Ruth's ears were "on edge." After this the +harmonica fell into a dish of soft soap, and in cleaning it with ashes +and a sponge, the holes became stopped. + +"It won't _muse_ no more," said Flyaway, in sad surprise, blowing into +the keys in vain. Ruth loved the little child too well to say she was +glad of it. + +Flyaway's next dash was into the sink cupboard, where she found a +wooden bowl of sand. This she dragged out, and filling her "nipperkin" +with water, carried them both to Ruth, saying, in her sweet, pleading +way,-- + +"_If_ you please, Ruthie, will you tell _how_ God does when he takes +the 'little drops of water and little grains of sand,' and makes 'the +mighty _oshum_' with um, '_and_ the pleasant land'?" + +Ruthie had no answer but a kiss and a smile. + +"There, away with you into the nursery, both of you. I know Polly +Whiting is lonesome without you." + +Off went the children, Flyaway "with a heart for any fate," but Dotty +still oppressed by the shadow of the ten-cent piece. + +"If I don't give it to Prudy, will I be dishonest? Will I be as bad +as Jennie Vance?" + +When they entered the nursery, Miss Polly was standing before the +mirror, arranging her black cap, and weaving into her collar a square +black breast-pin, which aunt Louise said looked like a gravestone. +Flyaway peeped in too, placing her smooth pink cheek beside Miss +Polly's wrinkled one. + +"I don't look alike, Miss Polly," said she; "and you don't look alike +too." + +Certainly not; no more alike than a blush-rose bud and a dried apple. + +"What makes the red go out of folks' cheeks when they grow old, and +the wrinkles crease in, like the pork in baked beans?" queried Dotty. + +"I couldn't tell you," replied the good lady, giving a pat to her cap, +and settling the bows carefully; "but if you had asked how I happened +to grow old before my time, I should say I'd had such a hard chance +through life, and trouble always leaves its mark." + +"Does it? O, dear! I have trouble,--ever so much; will it quirk my +face all up, like yours?" + +"You have trouble, Dotty Parlin? Haven't you found out yet that the +lines have fallen to you in pleasant places?" + +"I don't know what you mean by lines," said Dotty, thinking of +fish-hooks; "but when it rains, and folks want me to do things that +are real hard, then why, I'm blue, now truly." + +"Then we're blue, now truly," added Flyaway by way of finish. + +"What would you do, children, if you were driven about, as I used to +be, from post to pillar, with no mother to care for you?" + +"If I hadn't no mamma, I could go barefoot, like a dog," said Flyaway, +brightening with the new idea; "I could paddle in the water too, and +eat pepnits." + +"O, child! But what if you had neither father nor mother?" + +"Then," said Flyaway coolly, "I should go to some house where there +_was_ a father'n mother." + +"Why, you little heartless thing! But that is always the way with +children; their parents set their lives by them, but not a 'thank you' +do they get for their love! Try a pinch," continued she, offering her +snuff-box to the little folks, who both declined. This Polly thought +was strange. They must like snuff if they followed the natural bent of +their noses. + +"Yes, Katie, as I was saying, you little know how your mother loves +you." + +"Yes um, I do. She loves me more 'n the river, and the sky, and the +bridge. My papa loves me too, only but he don't _say_ nuffin' 'bout +it." + +"Yes, yes; just so," said Miss Polly, who talked to the simplest +infants just as she did to grown people. "One of these days you will +look back, and see how happy you are now, and be sorry you didn't +prize your parents while you had them." + +Flyaway rested her rosy cheek on Polly's knee, and watched the gray +knitting-work as it came out of the basket. She did not understand the +sad woman's words, but was attracted by her loving nature, and liked +to sit near her, a minute at a time, and have her hair stroked. + +"There, now," said Dotty, "you are knitting, Miss Polly; and it's so +lonesome all round the house, with mother not coming till to-morrow, +that I should think you might tell--well, tell an anecdote." + +"I don't know where to begin, or what to say," replied Polly, falling +into deep thought. + +"I just believe she does sigh at the end of every needle," mused +Dotty; "I'm going to keep 'count. That's once." + +"Please, Miss Polly, tell a _nanny-goat_," said Flyaway, dancing +around the room. "Please, Miss Polly, and I'll kiss you a pretty +little kiss." + +"Twice," whispered Dotty. + +"Well, I'll tell you something that will pass for an anecdote, on +condition that you call me _aunt_ Polly; that name warms my heart a +great deal better than _Miss_ Polly." + +"Three!" said Dotty aloud. "We will, honestly, if we can think of it, +aunt Polly.--Four." + +"Le'me gwout for the sidders, first," said busy Flyaway. + +"There, aunt Polly, you forgot it that time! You sprang up quick to +shut the door, and forgot it." + +"Forgot what?" + +"You didn't sigh at the end of your needle." + +"Why, Dotty, how you do talk! Any one would suppose, by that, I was in +the habit of sighing! I have a stitch in my side, child, and it makes +me draw a long breath now and then; that's all." + +Flyaway was back again, + + "With step-step light, and tip-tap slight + Against the door." + +"Come in," said Dotty, "and see if you can keep still two whole +minutes; but I know you can't." + +Miss Polly let her work fall in her lap, and drew up the left sleeve +of her black alpaca dress. "Do you see that scar, children?" + +It was just below the elbow,--an irregular, purple mark, about the +size of a new cent. + +"Why, Miss--why, aunt Polly!" + +"I've got one on me too," said Flyaway, pulling at her apron sleeve; +"Hollis did it with the tongs." + +"It can't be; not a scar like mine." + +"Bigger 'n' larger 'n' yours; only but I can't find it," said Flyaway, +carefully twisting around her dainty white arm, which Polly kissed, +and said was as sweet as a peach. "Bigger 'n' larger 'n' yours. Where's +it gone to? O, I feegot--'twas on my _sleeve_, and I never put it on +to-day." + +"You're a droll child, not to know the difference between scars and +dirt! When I was almost as young and quite as innocent, that wicked +little boy bit me, and I shall carry the marks of his teeth to my +grave." With another lingering glance at the purple mark, Polly drew +down her sleeve, sighed, and began to knit again. + +"Was it the woman's child that made you dig, that you told about last +summer?" + +"Yes; I was a bound girl." + +"Bound to what?" Dotty was trying to drown the remembrance of Prudy's +ten cents; so she wished to keep Miss Polly talking. + +"Bound to Mrs. Potter till I was eighteen years old. Her husband kept +public house. They made a perfect slave of me. When I was twelve +years old I had to milk three cows, besides spinning my day's work on +the flax-wheel. And very often all I had for supper was brown bread +and skim milk. I didn't have any grandfather's house to go to, with a +seat in the trees, and a boat on the water, and a swing, and a summer +house, and a _crocky-set_ (croquet set). Not I!" + +Flyaway was cutting paper dolls with all speed, but her sweet little +face was drawn into curves of pity. + +"Too bad! Naughty folks to give you _skilmick_." + +"I had to scour all the knives too. I did it by drawing them back and +forth into a sand-bank back of the house. This Isaac I speak of was a +lazy boy, and very unkind to me; but his mother wouldn't hear a word +against him. One day I brushed a traveller's coat, and got a silver +quarter for my trouble. I thought everything of that quarter. I had +never had so much money before in my life. I had half a mind to put it +in the Savings Bank; 'and who knows,' thought I, 'but I can add more +to it, one of these days, and buy my time.'" + +"Why, Miss Polly, I didn't know you could _buy_ time!" + +"But you knew you could throw it away, I suppose," said Polly, with a +sad smile. "What I mean is this: I wanted to pay Mrs. Potter some +money, so I could go free before I was eighteen." + +"Then you would be _unbound_, aunt Polly." + +"Yes; but one day Isaac found my money,--I kept it in an old +tobacco-box,--and, just to hector me, he kept tossing it up in the +air, till all of a sudden it fell through a crack in the floor; and +that was the last I saw of it." + +[Illustration: "HERE HE IS!"] + +"What a naughty, careless boy!" + +After Dotty had said this, she blushed. + +"Naughty, careless boy!" echoed Flyaway. "Here he is!" holding up a +paper doll shaped very much like a whale, with the fin divided for +legs, the ears of a cat, and the arms of a windmill. "Here he is!" + +"He didn't look much like that," said Polly, laughing. "He had plenty +of money of his own, and I tried to make him give me back a quarter; +but do you believe he wouldn't, not even a ninepence? And when I +teased him, that was the time he bit my arm." + +"He oughtn't to bitted your arm, course, indeed not!" + +"But, aunt Polly," faltered Dotty, whose efforts to forget the +ten-cent piece had proved worse than useless, "but it didn't do Isaac +any good to lose your money down a crack." + +"No, it was sheer mischief." + +"And if it doesn't do folks any good to lose things, you know, why, +what's the use--to--to--go and get his own money to pay it back +with?--Isaac I mean." + +"What do you say, Dotty Parlin? You, a child that goes to Sabbath +school! Don't you know it is a sin to steal a pin? And if we lose or +injure other people's things, and don't make it up to them, we're as +good as thieves." + +"As good?" + +"As bad, then." + +"But s'posin'--s'posin' folks lose things when they _don't_ toss 'em +up in the air, and don't mean to,--the wind, you know, or a kind of an +accident, Miss Polly,--" + +"Well?" + +"And s'posin' I didn't have any more money 'n I wanted myself, and +Prudy had the most--H'm--" + +"Well?" + +"Then it isn't as bad as thieves; now is it? She's got the most. +Prudy's older 'n I am--" + +"Honesty is honesty," said Miss Polly, firmly, "in young or old. If +you've lost your sister's money, you must make it up to her." + +"O, must I, Miss Polly? Such a tinty-tonty mite of money as I've +got,--only sixty-five cents." + +"Honesty is honesty," repeated Miss Polly, "in rich or poor." + +"Dear me! will my mother say so, too?" + +"Your mother is on the right side, Dotty. The Bible tells us to 'deal +justly.' There's nothing said there about excusing poor folks." + +"O, dear! do you s'pose the Bible expects me to pay Prudy Parlin ten +cents, when it just blew out of my hands, and didn't do me a speck of +good?" + +"Why, Dotty, you surprise me! Any one would think you were brought up +a heathen! If you were a small child I could understand it." + +"I knew I should have to do it," moaned Dotty. + +"I advise you to lose no time about it, then; that is the cause of +your blues, I guess. We can't be happy out of the line of our duty," +sighed Miss Polly, who regarded herself as a pattern of cheerfulness. + +"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," said Dotty, resolutely; "I'm +going right off to pay that money to Prudy, and then I'll be in the +line of my duty." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +FULL NIPPERKIN. + + +Prudy scorned to take the ten cents. "Did you think your 'middle-aged' +sister would do such a thing, when she has more money than you have, +Dotty Dimple? If you're only sorry, that's all I ask. I didn't like to +have you laugh, as if you didn't care." + +"But, Prudy, I want to be honest." + +"And so you have been, dear child," said grandma Parlin, with an +approving smile. "If Prudy chooses now to give you the money, receive +it as a present, and say, 'Thank you.'" + +"O, thank you, Prudy Parlin, over and over, and up to the moon," cried +Dotty, throwing her arms around her kind sister's neck. "I'll never +lose anything of yours again; no, never, never!" + +This lesson was laid away on a shelf in Dotty's memory. Close beside +it was another lesson, still more wholesome. + +"Dotty Dimple isn't the best girl that ever lived. She had to be +talked to and talked to, before she was willing to do right. She isn't +any better than Jennie Vance, after all. Why did she pray that naughty +prayer, just to make Jennie feel bad? God must have thought it was +very strange!" + +Grandma saw that Dotty's "blues" were dissolving like a morning mist; +still she knew the child was in need of patchwork, and told her so. + +"Let us all take our work," said she, "and sit together in the +nursery, so we may forget the dull weather." + +Grace brought her pique apron down stairs to make, Susy her tatting, +Prudy a handkerchief, Dotty a square of patchwork, while Flyaway +danced about for a needle and thread. + +"What a happy group!" said Mrs. Clifford, looking up from her sewing. +She had forgotten Polly Whiting, who was mournfully toeing off a sock +for Horace, while he sat on the floor, at her feet, mending her +double-covered basket. + +"Why, Katie, darling," said Grace, "what are you doing with that +beautiful ribbon?" + +"Aunt Louise said I might make a bag, Gracie--" + +"Seems to me aunt Louise lets you do everything; I shouldn't want you +to spoil that ribbon." + +"They shan't bother my little Topknot," said Horace, with a sweep of +his thumb. "She is going to have all my clothes to make bags of, when +she grows up." + +Flyaway, who knew she had a good right to the ribbon, pressed her +eyelids together slowly. + +"If I's Gracie," said she, severely, "I'd make aprons; if I's mamma +I'd sew dresses; if I's Flywer, I'd do just's I want to." + +And then she went on sewing; without any thimble. + +"Girls, have you guessed yet why a wheelbarrow is like a potato?" + +"No, Horace; why is it?" + +"O, I was in hopes you could tell. I don't know, I am sure. It is as +much as I can do to make up a conundrum, without finding out the +answer." + +The children laughed at this, but none of them so loud as Flyaway, +who thought her brother the wisest, wittiest, and noblest specimen of +boyhood that ever lived. + +"How our needles do fly!" said Dotty, merrily. + +She was a neat and swift little seamstress, even superior to Prudy. + +"See," said Flyaway to Horace; "I work faster 'n my mamma, 'cause she's +got a big dress to work on: of course she can't sew so quick as I can +on a little bag." + +"Prudy can sew better and faster than I can," said Dotty, with a +sudden gush of humility. + +"Why, Dotty Dimple, I don't think so," returned Prudy, quite +surprised. + +"Neither do I," said aunt Maria; "I am afraid our little Dotty is +hardly sincere." + +Dotty's head drooped a little. "I know it, auntie; I do sew the +nicest; but I was afraid it wouldn't be polite if I told it just as it +was, and Prudy so good to me, too." + +"If she is good, is that any reason why you should tell her a wrong +story?" remarked the plain-spoken Susy, giving a twitch to her +tatting-thread. + +"Children," said Mrs. Clifford, laughing, "do you remember those +hideous green goggles I wore a year ago?" + +"O, yes 'm," replied Grace; "they made your eyes stick out so! Why, +you looked like a frog, ma', more than anything else." + +"Well, a certain lady of my acquaintance was so polite as to tell me +my goggles were very becoming." + +"O, ma, who could it have been?" + +"I prefer not to give you her name. I appreciated her kind wish to +please me, but I could not think her sincere." + +"O, Susy," said Grace, "if you could have seen those goggles! A little +basket for each eye, made of green wire, like a fly cover! Ma, did you +ever believe a word that lady said afterwards?" + +"Flatterers are not generally to be trusted," replied Mrs. Clifford. +"Flyaway, that is the fourth needle you have lost." + +Here was another lesson for Dotty's memory-shelf. "I must not say +things that are not true, just to be polite. It is flattering and +wicked; and besides that, people always know better." + +It was a quiet, busy, cheerful day. Dotty forgot to complain of the +weather. Just before supper Flyaway jumped down from her grandpapa's +knee, where she had been talking to him through his "conversation-tube," +and ran to the window. + +"Why, 'tisn't raining," cried she; "true's I'm walking on this floor +'tisn't raining!" + +Dotty clapped her hands, and watched the sun coming out like pure +gold, and turning the dark clouds into silver. + +"We were patient and willing for it to rain," said she; "but of course +that wasn't why it cleared off." + +And it wasn't why Flyaway lost her thumb-nail, either. She lost +that--or half of it--in the crack of the door. The poor little thumb +was very painful, and had to be put in a cot. + +"It wearies me," said Flyaway; "it makes me afraid I shan't ever have +a nail on there again." + +Her mother assured her she would. The same God who calls up the little +blades of grass out of the ground could make a finger-nail grow. + +"Will He?" said Flyaway, smiling through tears; "but 'haps He'll +forget how it looks. Musn't I save a piece of my nail, mamma, and lay +it up on the shelf, so He can see it, and make the other one like it?" + +Mrs. Clifford put the nail in her jewel-box, and I dare say it may be +there to this day. + +Just as Flyaway, in her nightie, was having a frolic with Grace, there +was a sound of wheels. The stage, which Horace called the "Oriole" +because it had a yellow breast, was rolling into the yard. + +"It's my mother--my mother," cried the three Parlins together. + +Yes, and who was that little girl getting down just after her? Her hat +covered her eyes. "It isn't Tate Penny!" Why, to be sure it was! There +was her dimpled chin; and if that wasn't proof enough, there was the +wart on her thumb! + +To think such a glorious thing as this could happen to Dotty! and she +not the best girl in the world either! A visit from her bosom friend! +"Aunt 'Ria, do you understand? Aunt Louise? Gracie? This is _Tate +Penny_!" + +"Who asked her to come? How did she happen to be with mamma, the same +day, in the same cars?" + +Well, grandma Parlin invited her to come. "When one lives in an +India-rubber house," she said, "a few people more or less make no +difference at all. She wished Dotty's 'nipperkin' of happiness to be +full for once." + +And it was: it ran over. There were joyful days for the next +fortnight. I could never draw the picture of them with my pen, even if +I had the paper left to put it on. They kept house under the trees; +they baked their food in a brick oven Horace made; they gave a party; +they had boat rides; they had swings; they never went into the house +unless it rained; they were never cross to one another, or rude to +Jennie Vance; it was like living in fairy-land. + +It was a glorious summer. I almost wish it had not come to an end; +though, in that case, I suppose I should never have stopped telling +about it. By and by vacation was over, and Tate went off in the same +stage with the Parlins. You could never guess what she and Dotty each +put so carefully into their bosoms, to keep "forever." It was a +splinter of the dear old barn where they had had such good times +jumping! + +Three weeks afterwards the "Oriole" drove up to grandpapa Parlin's +again, and this time for the Cliffords. Flyaway danced into it like a +piece of thistle-down. Everybody threw good-by kisses, and the stage +rattled away. + +And after that, dears, as Flyaway will say to her grandchildren, +"things went into a mist." And this is all I have to tell you about +the Parlins, the Cliffords, and the Willowbrook home. + + +THE END. + + * * * * * + + + + +DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES. + +To be completed in six vols. Handsomely Illustrated. +Each vol., 75 cts. + + +1. DOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER'S. +2. DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME. +3. DOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST. +4. DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. +5. DOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL. +6. DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY. + + +BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR. + +LITTLE PRUDY STORIES. + +Now complete. Six vols. 24mo. Handsomely Illustrated. +In a neat box. Per vol., 75 cts. Comprising + + +LITTLE PRUDY. +LITTLE PRUDY'S SISTER SUSIE. +LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE. +LITTLE PRUDY'S COUSIN GRACE. +LITTLE PRUDY'S STORY BOOK. +LITTLE PRUDY'S DOTTY DIMPLE. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dotty Dimple's Flyaway, by Sophie May + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY *** + +***** This file should be named 19247.txt or 19247.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/2/4/19247/ + +Produced by Sigal Alon, La Monte H.P. 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