Dotty Dimple at Her Grandmothers | Page 7

"I gueth my mamma wants me at home," said Charlie, yawning.

Prudy and Dotty went with him; and in her eagerness concerning the
ducks' eggs, Dotty quite forgot the secret draughts of milk she and
Katie had quaffed under the acorn-tree, calling it nectar. But this was
not the last of it.
CHAPTER III.
THE WHITE TRUTH.
Dotty continued to go to Mrs. Gray's every night with the milk.
Sometimes Katie went with her, and then they always paused a while
under the acorn-tree and played "King and Queen." Dotty said she
wished they could ever remember to bring their nipperkins, for in that
case the milk would taste a great deal more like nectar. The
"nipperkins" were a pair of handled cups which the children supposed
to be silver, and which they always used at table.
Dotty knew she was doing wrong every time she played "King and
Queen." She knew the milk was not hers, but Mrs. Gray's; still she said
to herself, "Ruthie needn't give so much measure, all pressed down and
run over. If Queenie and I should drink a great deal more, there would
always be a quart left. Yes, I know there would."
Mrs. Gray never said anything about the milk; she merely poured it out
in a pan, and gave back the pail to Dotty, asking her at the same time as
many questions as the child would stay to hear.
One night Dotty begged Prudy to go with her; she wished her to ask for
the ducks' eggs. When they reached the acorn tree Dotty did not stop;
she would never have thought of playing "King and Queen" with Prudy;
she was afraid of her sister's honest blue eyes.
I am not quite sure Mrs. Gray would have given the eggs to Dotty,
though Mrs. Parlin promised her several times the amount of hens' eggs
in return. Mrs. Gray did not think Dotty was "a very sociable child;"
and then so many people were asking for eggs! But Mrs. Gray could
not say "No" to Prudy; she gave her thirteen eggs, with a hearty kiss.

"Now whose will the ducklings be?" asked Dotty on the way home.
"Yours and mine," replied Prudy; "half and half. Six for each, and an
odd one over."
"Then," said Dotty, "we'll give that 'odd one over' to Katie."
"But they may not all hatch, Dotty."
"O, dear! why not? Then we can't tell how many we shall have. Perhaps
there will be two or three odd ones over; and then what shall we do,
Prudy?"
Prudy laughed at the idea of "two or three odd ones." The eggs were
put in a barrel under the white hen; and now began a trial of patience. It
seemed to all the children that time stood still while they waited.
Would the four weeks never be gone?
One day Dottie stood with Katie by the back-door blowing bubbles.
The blue sky, the white fences, the green trees, and even the people
who passed in the street, made little pictures of themselves on the
bubbles. It was very beautiful. Dotty blew with such force that her
cheeks were puffed as round as rubber balls. Katie looked on in great
delight.
"See," she cried, "see the trees a-yidin' on that bubbil!"
Dotty dropped the pipe and kissed her.
"Dear me," said she, the next minute, "there's Miss Polly coming!"
Katie looked along the path, and saw a forlorn woman tightly wrapped
in a brown shawl, carrying a basket on her arm, and looking sadly
down at her own calf-skin shoes, which squeaked dismally as she
walked.
"Is um the Polly?" whispered Katie; "is um so tired?"
"No, she isn't tired," said Dotty; "but she feels dreadfully all the whole

time; I don't know what it's about, though."
By this time the new-comer stood on the threshold, sighing.
"How do you do, you pretty creeturs?" said she, with a dreary smile.
"Yes, 'um," replied Katie; "is you the Polly, and does you feel drefful?"
The sad woman kissed the little girls,--for she was fond of
children,--sighed more heavily than ever, asked if their grandmother
was at home, and passed through the kitchen on her way to the parlor.
Mrs. Parlin sat knitting on the sofa, Mrs. Clifford was sewing, and Miss
Louise crocheting. They all looked up and greeted the visitor politely,
but it seemed as if a dark cloud had entered the room. Miss Polly seated
herself in a rocking-chair, and began to take off her bonnet, sighing as
she untied the strings, and sighing again as she took the three pins out
of her shawl.
"I hope you are well this fine weather," said Mrs. Parlin, cheerily.
"As well as ever I expect to be," replied Miss Polly, in a resigned tone.
Then