Dotty Dimple at Play

Dotty Dimple at Play

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dotty Dimple at Play, 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.net
Title: Dotty Dimple at Play
Author: Sophie May
Release Date: November 27, 2003 [EBook #10320]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY
BY SOPHIE MAY
AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES"
1868

Illustrated TO THE _LITTLE "BLIND-EYED CHILDREN"_ IN THE ASYLUM FOR THE BLIND AT INDIANAPOLIS.
[Illustration: DOTTY AND KATIE VISITING THE BLIND GIRLS.]

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER
I. "THE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN"
II. EMILY'S TRIALS
III. PLAYING SHIP
IV. A SPOILED DINNER
V. PLAYING TRUANT
VI. A STRANGE VISIT
VII. PLAYING PRISONER
VIII. PLAYING THIEF
IX. THANKSGIVING DAY
X. GRANDMA'S OLD TIMES
XI. THE CRYSTAL WEDDING

DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY.

CHAPTER I
.
"THE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN."
"You is goin' off, Dotty Dimpwil."
"Yes, dear, and you must kiss me."
"No, not now; you isn't gone yet. You's goin' nex' day after this day."
Miss Dimple and Horace exchanged glances, for they had an important secret between them.
"Dotty, does you want to hear me crow like Bantie? 'Cause," added Katie, with a pitying glance at her cousin, "'cause you can't bear me bimeby, when you didn't be to my house."
"That will do, you blessed little Topknot," cried Horace, as the shrill crowing died on the air, and the pink bud of a mouth took its own shape again. "Now I just mean to tell you something nice, for you might as well know it and be happy a day longer: mother and you and I are going to Indianapolis to-morrow with Dotty--going in the cars."
"O!" exclaimed the child, whirling about like a leaf in a breeze. "Going to 'Naplis, yidin' in the cars! O my shole!"
"Yes, and you'll be good all day--won't you, darling, and not hide mamma's spools?"
"Yes, I won't if I don't 'member. We for salt, salt, salt," sang Flyaway (meaning mi, fa, sol). Then she ran to the bureau, perched herself before it on an ottoman, and talked to herself in the glass.
"Now you be good gell all day, Katie Clifford--not dishbey your mamma, not hide her freds o' spools, say fank you please. O my shole!"
So Katie was made happy for twenty-four hours.
"After we sleep one more time," said she, "then we shall go."
She wished to sleep that "one more time" with Dotty; but her little head was so full of the journey that she aroused her bedfellow in the middle of the night, calling out,--
"We's goin' to 'Naplis,--we for salt, salt, salt,--yidin' in the cars, Dotty Dimpwil."
It was some time before Dotty could come out of dreamland, and understand what Katie said.
"Won't you please to hush?" she whispered faintly, and turned away her face, for the new moon was shining into her eyes.
"Let's we get up," cried Katie, shaking her by the shoulders; "don't you see the sun's all corned up bwight?"
"O, that's nothing but just the moon, Katie Clifford."
"O ho! is um the moon? Who cutted im in two?" said Flyaway, and dropped to sleep again.
Dotty was really sorry to leave aunt Maria's pleasant house, and the charming novelties of Out West.
"Phebe," said she, with a quiver in her voice, when she received the tomato pincushion, "I like you just as well as if you wasn't black. And, Katinka, I like you just as well as if you wasn't Dutch. You can cook better things than Norah, if your hair _isn't_ so nice."
This speech pleased Katinka so much that she patted the letter O's on each side of her head with great satisfaction, and was very sorry she had not made some chocolate cakes for Dotty to eat in the cars.
Uncle Henry did not like to part with his bright little niece. She had been so docile and affectionate during her visit, that he began to think her very lovely, and to wonder he had ever supposed she had a wayward temper.
The ride to Indianapolis was a very pleasant one. Katie thought she had the care of the whole party, and her little face was full of anxiety.
"Don't you tubble yourself, mamma," said She; "_I_'ll look out the winner, and tell you when we get there."
"Don't let her fall out, Horace," said Mrs. Clifford; "I have a headache, and you must watch her."
"Has you got a headache, mamma? I's solly. Lean 'gainst ME, mamma."
Horace wished the conductor had been in that car, so he could have seen Miss Flyaway trying to prop her mother's head against her own morsel of a shoulder--about as secure a resting-place as a piece of thistle-down.
"When was it be dinner-time?" said she at last, growing very tired of