Little Folks Astray | Page 7

under the bed, or in either of the closets, or inside the curtains.
"Look ahind the pendlum," said Fly, laughing and skipping about in high glee; "look ahind the pendlum; look atween the pillow-case."
Still the mewing went on.
"O, here is the kitty--I've found her," said auntie, suddenly seizing Fly by the shoulders, and stopping her mocking-bird mouth. "Poor pussy, she has turned white--white all over!"
"You don't mean to say that was Fly Clifford?" cried Prudy.
"Shut her up, auntie," said Dotty Dimple; "she's a kitty. I always knew her name was Kitty."
Fly ran and courtesied before the mirror in her nightie.
"O, Kitty Clifford, Kitty Clifford," she cried, "when'll you be a cat?"
"Pretty soon, if you can catch mice as well as you can mew," laughed auntie; "but look you, my dear; are you going to bed to-night? or shall I shut you down cellar?"
"Don't shut me down cellow, auntie," cried the mocking-bird, crowing like a chicken; "shut me in the barn with the banties."
Next moment it occurred to the child that this style of behavior was not very "speckerful;" so she hastily dropped on her knees before her auntie, and began to say her prayers. The change was so sudden, from the shrill crow of a chicken to the gentle voice of a little girl praying, that no one could keep a sober face. Prudy ran into the closet, and Dotty laughed into her handkerchief.
"There, now, that's done," said Flyaway, jumping up as suddenly as she had knelt down. "Now I must pray Flipperty."
And before any one could think what the child meant to do, she had dragged out her dolly, and knelt it on the rug, face downward, over her own lap.
"O, the wicked creature!" whispered Dotty. But Aunt Madge said nothing.
"Pray," said the little one, in a tone of command. Then, in a fine, squeaking voice, Fly repeated a prayer. It was intended to be Flipperty's voice, and Flipperty was too young to talk plain.
"There, that will do," said Aunt Madge, her large gray eyes trying not to twinkle; "did she ever say her prayers before?"
"Yes, um; she's a goody girl--when I 'member to pray her!"
"Well, dear, I wouldn't 'pray her' any more. It makes us laugh to see such a droll sight, and nobody wishes to laugh when you are talking to your Father in heaven."
"No'm," replied Flyaway, winking her eyes solemnly.
But when the "three abed" had been tucked in and kissed, Fly called her auntie back to ask, "How can Flipperty grow up a goody girl athout she says her prayers?"
There was such a mixture of play and earnestness in the child's eyes, that auntie had to turn away her face before she could answer seriously.
"Why, little girls can think and feel you know; but with dollies it is different. Now, good night, pet; you won't have beautiful dreams, if you talk any more."
CHAPTER IV.
"TAKING OUR AIRS."
Flyaway awoke singing, and sprang up in bed, saying,--
"Why, I thought I's a car, and that's why I whissiled."
"But you are not a car," yawned Prudy; "please don't sing again, or dance, either."
"It's the happerness in me, Prudy; and that's what dances; it's the happerness."
"That's the worst part of Fly Clifford," groaned Dotty; "she won't keep still in the morning. Might have known there wouldn't be any peace after she got here."
Dotty always came out of sleep by slow stages, and her affections were the last part of her to wake up. Just now she did not love Katie Clifford one bit, nor her own mother either.
"Won't you light the lamp?" piped Flyaway.
"Please don't, Fly," said Prudy; "don't talk!"
"Won't you light the la-amp?"
"No, we will not," said Dotty, firmly.
"Won't you light the la-amp?"
"Is this what we came to New York for?" moaned Dotty; "to be waked up in the middle of the night by folks singing?"
"Won't you light the la-amp?"
"I'll pack my dresses, and go right home! I'll--I'll have Fly Clifford sleep out o' this room. Why, I--I--"
"Won't you light the la-amp?"
Prudy sprang out of bed, convulsed with laughter, and lighted the gas; whereupon Fly began to dance "Little Zephyrs," on the pillow, and Dotty to declare her eyes were put out.
"Little try-patiences, both of them," thought Prudy; "but then they've always had their own way, and what can you expect? I'm so glad I wasn't born the youngest of the family; it does make children so disagreeable!"
As soon as Dotty was fairly awake, her love for her friends came back again, and her good humor with it. She made Fly bleat like a lamb and spin like a top, and applauded her loudly.
"It's gl-orious to have you here, Fly Clifford. I wouldn't let you go in any other room to sleep for anything."
Which shows that the same thing looked very different to Dotty after she got her eyes open.
When the children