Little Prudys Dotty Dimple | Page 9

been to bring her to his house. Mrs. Parlin rode too; but Susy and
Prudy walked.
When they came to the tree which contained the birds' nest, Prudy
parted the branches, but the nestlings were not to be seen; the
mother-bird had gathered them under her wings, out of sight.
"Hush!" whispered Susy; "hear them peep! Let's go; we'll frighten the
old birdie out of her wits."
"I wish you could see them, Susy; then you'd know how cunning they
are; and now you never'll know. But it doesn't seem a bit like orphan
children since their mother's got home."
"Makes me think of our mamma, and her three little children," said
Susy, taking her sister's hand.
"Yes," said Prudy, her face radiant with a glow of love, warm from her
heart; "how good our mother always is, and always was, before ever
our reasons grew! Think what we'd do this night, Susy Parlin, if there
wasn't any mother to our house!"
CHAPTER V.
FANNY HARLOW'S PARTY.
"Kiss me, little sister," said Prudy, "and let me go, for I must get ready
for the party."
"I know where you're goin'," said Dotty; "why can't I go too?"
Little did innocent Prudy dream of the queer thoughts which were
chasing one another in her little sister's brain. After she and Susy had
gone, and the house was quite still, Dotty stood at the window, looking
down street. It was a lovely day; the clouds were "softer than sleep."

"O, my suz!" said Dotty Dimple; "there they go, way off, way off, Susy
and Prudy. Bof of 'em are all gone. Nobody at home but me. Didn't ask
me to her party, Fanny Harlow didn't."
Dotty heaved a deep sigh, took her black baby out of its cradle, and
shook it with all her might.
"What you lookin' to me for, Phib? I wasn't a 'peakin' to you. I'm goin'
to cover you all up, Phib, so you won't hear me think."
Then Dotty looked out of the window again. "What a good little girl I
am," thought she, "not to be a cryin'! Prudy'd cry! There goes the
blacksmif's shop." Dotty meant the blacksmith. "His mother lets him go
everywhere. Everybody's mother lets 'em go everywhere."
A prettily dressed little girl passed the window.
"How do you do, little girl?" whispered Dotty, in a voice so low that
even the cat did not hear. "O, what a booful hat you've got! Would your
mamma make you wear a rainy dress, like mine? No, she wouldn't.
Your mamma lets you go to parties all the days only Sundays. My
mamma has sticked me into the nursery, and nothin' but a dar'needle to
sew with! O, hum! And I haven't runned away since forever'n ever!
They don't 'low me to run away. Wish Fanny Harlow'd asked me to her
party. I know why she never! 'Cause she forgot I was born."
Presently there was a sound of little feet. Dotty was pattering up stairs.
"Didn't know I was sewing with a dar'needle--did you, mamma? Mayn't
I go to Fanny Harlow's party?"
Mrs. Parlin was busy with visitors, and did not pay much heed to her
little daughter. So Dotty crept close to her mother's side, and buried her
roguish face behind her head-dress.
"Wish you'd please to punish me, mamma," said she; "punish me now;
I'm _a-goin_' to be naughty?"

Mrs. Parlin smiled, and reminded Dotty that it was not polite to whisper
in company. Then she went on talking with her friends, and Miss
Dimple slipped quietly out of the room.
"I know I don't ought to," mused the child; "I'm a-goin' to do wicked,
and get punished; but I want to do wicked, and get punished. I've been
goody till I'm all tired up!"
Having made this decision, she went to Prudy's closet, and looked at
the dresses hanging wrong side outward on the pegs.
"This is a booful one," said she, pulling down a scarlet merino. She put
on the dress, forgetting, in her guilty haste, to take off her own blue
one.
"O, my suz! I never did see!" said Dotty, puffing and tugging in her
efforts to fasten the frock. "My mother must make Prudy's clo'es
bigger'n this; yes, she must. It chokes."
However, by dint of much hard work she succeeded in squeezing her
round little figure into the red merino, and fastening two of the buttons.
"O, hum!" sighed she; "this dress is so tight I shan't grow to-day!"
Dotty had a great admiration for her mother's purple breakfast shawl,
which she now threw over her little shoulders with tremulous delight.
Nono's Sunday bonnet she next laid her naughty hands upon. Very
charming was this bonnet in Dotty's eyes, as it was made of
claret-colored silk, and was