Dotty Dimple at Play | Page 5

he killed a man; but he didn't go to."
"Then he was guilty," said Dotty, in a solemn tone. "Did they take him
to the court-house and hang him?"
"No, of course they wouldn't hang him. They said it was the third
degree, and they sent him to the State's Prison."
"O, is your father in the State's Prison?"
Dotty thought if her father were in such, a dreadful place, and she
herself were blind, she should not wish to live; but here was Emily
looking just as happy as anybody else. Indeed, the little girl was rather

proud of being the daughter of such a wicked man. She had been pitied
so much for her misfortunes that she had come to regard herself as
quite a remarkable person. She could not see the horror in Dotty's face,
but she could detect it in her voice; so she went on, well satisfied.
"There isn't any other little girl in this school that has had so much
trouble as I have. A lady told me it was because God wanted to make a
good woman of me, and that was why it was."
"Does it make people good to have trouble?" asked Dotty, trying to
remember what dreadful trials had happened to herself. "Our house was
burnt all up, and I felt dreadfully. I lost a tea-set, too, with gold rims. I
didn't know I was any better for that."
"O, you see, it isn't very awful to have a house burnt up," said Emily;
"not half so awful as it is to have your eyes put out."
"But then, Emily, I've been sick, and had the sore throat, and almost
drowned--and--and--the whooping-cough when I was a baby."
"What is your name?" asked Emily; "and how old are you?"
"My name is Alice Parlin, and I am six years old."
"Why, I am nine; and see--your head! only comes under my chin."
"Of course it doesn't," replied Dotty, with some spirit. "I wouldn't be as
tall as you are for anything, and me only six--going on seven."
"I suppose your paw is rich, and good to you, and you have everything
you want--don't you, Alice?"
"No, my father isn't rich at all, Emily, and I don't have many things--no,
indeed," replied Miss Dimple, with a desire to plume herself on her
poverty and privations. "My aunt 'Ria has two girls, but we don't, only
our Norah; and mother never lets me put any nightly-blue sirreup on
my hangerjif 'cept Sundays. I think we're pretty poor."
Dotty meant all she said. She had now become a traveller; had seen a
great many elegant things; and when she thought of her home in
Portland, it seemed to her plainer and less attractive than it had ever
seemed before.
"I don't know what you would think," said Emily, counting over her
trials on her fingers as if they had been so many diamond rings, "if you
didn't have anything to eat but brown bread and molasses. I guess you'd
think that was pretty poor! And got the molasses all over your face,
because you couldn't see to put it in your mouth. And had that woman
shake you every time you spoke. And your paw in State's Prison

because he killed a man. O, no," repeated she, with triumph, "there isn't
any other little girl in this school that's had so much trouble as I have."
"No, I s'pose not," responded Dotty, giving up the attempt to compare
trials with such a wretched being; "but then I may be blind, some time,
too. P'rhaps a chicken will pick my eyes out. A cross hen flew right up
and did so to a boy."
Emily paid no attention to this foolish remark.
"My paw writes me letters," said she. "Here is one in my pocket; would
you like to read it?"
Dotty took the letter, which was badly written and worse spelled.
"Can you read it?" asked Emily, after Dotty had turned it over for some
moments in silence.
"No, I cannot," replied Dotty, very much ashamed; "but I'm going to
school by and by, and then I shall learn everything."
"O, no matter if you can't read it to me; my teacher has read it ever so
many times. At the end of it, it says, 'Your unhappy and unfortunate
paw.' That is what he always says at the end of all his letters; and he
wants me to go to the prison to see him."
"Why, you _couldn't_ see him."
"No," replied Emily, not understanding that Dotty referred to her
blindness; "no, I couldn't see him. The superintendent Wouldn't let me
go; he says it's no place for little girls."
"I shouldn't think it was," said Dotty, looking around for Flyaway, who
was riding in