Prudence Says So | Page 4

you put it. We've been able to keep pretty
good track of your finances lately."
The twins laughed again.

"But I looked on the top ledge of all the windows and doors just
yesterday," admitted Lark, "and there was nothing there. Did you put
that dime in the bank?"
"Oh, never mind," said Connie. "I don't need to tell you. You twins are
too slick for me, you know."
The twins looked slightly fussed, especially when Fairy laughed with a
merry, "Good for you, Connie."
Carol rose and looked at herself in the glass. "I'm going up-stairs," she
said.
"What for?" inquired Lark, rising also.
"I need a little more powder. My nose is shiny."
So the twins went up-stairs, and Fairy, after calling out to them to be
very careful and not get disheveled, went out into the yard and
wandered dolefully about by herself.
Connie meantime decided to get her well-hidden dime and figure out
what ten cents could buy for her fastidious and wealthy aunt. Connie
was in many ways unique. Her system of money-hiding was born of
nothing less than genius, prompted by necessity, for the twins were
clever as well as grasping. She did not know they had discovered her
plan of banking on the top ledge of the windows and doors, but having
dealt with them long and bitterly, she knew that in money matters she
must give them the benefit of all her ingenuity. For the last and
precious dime, she had discovered a brand-new hiding-place.
The cook stove sat in the darkest and most remote corner of the kitchen,
and where the chimney fitted into the wall, it was protected by a small
zinc plate. This zinc plate protruded barely an inch, but that inch was
quite sufficient for coins the size of Connie's, and there, high and
secure in the shadowy corner, lay Connie's dime. Now that she had
decided to spend it, she wanted it before her eyes,--for ten cents in sight
buys much more than ten cents in memory. She went into the kitchen

cautiously, careful of her white canvas shoes, and put a chair beside the
stove. She had discovered that the dishpan turned upside down on the
chair, gave her sufficient height to reach her novel banking place. The
preparation was soon accomplished, and neatly, for Connie was an
orderly child, and loved cleanliness even on occasions less demanding
than this.
But alas for Connie's calculations!--Carol was born for higher things
than dish washing, and she had splashed soap-suds on the table. The
pan had been set among them--and then, neatly wiped on the inside, it
had been hung up behind the table,--with the suds on the bottom. And it
was upon this same dishpan that Connie climbed so carefully in search
of her darling dime.
The result was certain. As she slowly and breathlessly raised herself on
tiptoe, steadying herself with the tips of her fingers lightly touching the
stove-pipe, her foot moved treacherously into the soapy area, and
slipped. Connie screamed, caught desperately at the pipe, and fell to the
floor in a sickening jumble of stove-pipe, dishpan and soot beyond her
wildest fancies! Her cries brought her sisters flying, and the sight of the
blackened kitchen, and the unfortunate child in the midst of disaster,
banished from their minds all memory of the coming chaperon, of
Prudence's warning words:--Connie was in trouble. With sisterly
affection they rescued her, and did not hear the ringing of the bell. They
brushed her, they shook her, they kissed her, they all but wept over her.
And when Prudence and her father, with Aunt Grace in tow, despaired
of gaining entrance at the hands of the girls, came in unannounced, it
was a sorry scene that greeted them. Fairy and the twins were only less
sooty than Connie and the kitchen. The stove-pipe lay about them with
that insufferable insolence known only to fallen stove-pipe. And
Connie wept loudly, her tears making hideous trails upon her blackened
face.
"I might have known it," Prudence thought, with sorrow. But her
motherly pride vanished before her motherly solicitude, and Connie
was soon quieted by her tender ministrations.
[Illustration: We love you, but we can't kiss you]

"We love you, Aunt Grace," cried Carol earnestly, "but we can't kiss
you."
Mr. Starr anxiously scanned the surface of the kitchen table with an eye
to future spots on the new suit, and then sat down on the edge of it and
laughed as only a man of young heart and old experience can laugh!
"Disgraced again," he said. "Prudence said we made a mistake in not
taking you all to the station where we could watch you every minute.
Grace, think well before you take the plunge. Do you dare cast in your
fortunes with