Dotty Dimples Flyaway | Page 3

are trottin' round on the grass: they didn't be dead. We haven't got any only but dead ones; but Mis' Gray has.
"I like Dr. Gray ever so much!
"Mis' Gray gave me the kitty to play with. I bundled it all up in my dress, 'cause I didn't want the cat to get it. When I went home I gave it to the cat. [You got that wroten?]
"There wasn't any dead little kittens. She gave me a cookie, and I eated it, and I told her to give me another to bring home, 'cause I liked her cookies; they was curly cookies. [Got it wroted, mamma?]
"Now 'bout I pumped full a pail full o' water.
"[She knows we've got a house?]
"Now say good by, and I kiss her a pretty little kiss. O, no; I want her to come and see me,--her and Prudy,--two of 'em! I's here yet. ['Haps she knows it!]
"That's all--I feel sleepy.
(Signed) "From
"DOTTY DIMPWILL TO FLYWER."
This letter "went into a mist," and so did the next performance, which you will read in the following chapter.
CHAPTER II.
RUNNING AWAY TO CHURCH.
The little Parlins came the next week. One Sunday morning Dotty Dimple stood before the glass, putting on her hat for church. Katie came and peeped in with her, opening her small mouth and drawing her lips over her teeth, as her grandfather did when he shaved.
"See, Flyaway, you haven't any dimples at all!" said Dotty, primping a little. "Your hair isn't smooth and curly like mine; it sticks up all over your head, like a little fan."
"O, my shole!" sighed Flyaway, scowling at herself. She did not know how lovely she was, nor how
"The light of the heaven she came from Still lingered and gleamed in her hair."
"I wisht 'twouldn't get out," said she.
"What do you mean by out?"
"O, unwetted, and un-comb-bid, and un-parted."
"That's because you fly about like such a little witch."
"I doesn't do the leastest nuffin, Dotty Dimpwill! Folks ought to let me to go to churches."
"I should laugh, Fly Clifford, to see you going to churches! All the ministers would come down out of the pulpits and ask what little mischief that was, and make aunt 'Ria carry you home!"
"No, he wouldn't, too! I'd sit stiller'n two, free, five hundred mouses," pleaded Flyaway, climbing up the back of a chair to show how quiet she could be.
"O, it's no use to talk about it, darling. Give me one kiss, and I'll go get my sun-shade."
"Can't, Dotty Dimpwill! My mamma's kiss I'll keep; it's ahind my mouf; she's gone to 'Dusty.
"Well, 'keep it ahind your mouf,' then; and here's another to put with it. What do you s'pose makes me love to kiss you so?"
"O, 'cause I so sweet," replied Flyaway, promptly; but she was not thinking of her own sweetness, just then; she was wondering if she could manage to run away to church.
"I'se a-goin' there myse'f! Sit still's a--a--" She looked around for a comparison, and saw a grasshopper on the window-sill: "still's a gas-papa. Man won't say nuffin' to me, see 'f he does!"
Strange such an innocent-looking child could be so sly! She ran down the path with Horace, kissing her little hand to everybody for good by, all the while thinking how she could steal off to church without being seen.
"You may go up stairs and lie down with me on my bed," said grandma, who was not very well. So Katie climbed upon the bed.
"My dee gamma, I so solly you's sick!" said she, stroking Mrs. Parlin's face, and picking open her eyelids. But after patting and "pooring" the dear lady for some time, she thought she had made her "all well," and then was anxious to get away. Mrs. Parlin wished to keep her up stairs as long as possible, because Ruth had a toothache.
"Shan't I tell you a story, dear?" said she.
"Yes, um; tell 'bout a long baby--no, a long story 'bout a short baby."
"Well, once there was a king, and he had a daughter--"
"O, no, gamma, not that! Tell me 'bout baby that didn't be on the bul-yushes; I don't want to hear 'bout Mosey!"
Grandma smiled, and wondered if people, in the good old Bible days, were in the habit of using pet names, and if Pharaoh's daughter ever called the Hebrew boy "Mosey." She was about to begin another story, when Flyaway said, "Guess I'll go out, now," and slid off the bed. There was an orange on the table. She took it, held it behind her, and walked quickly to the door. Looking back, she saw that her grandmother was watching her.
"What you looking at, gamma? 'Cause I'm are goin' to bring the ollinge right back."
And so she did, but not because it was wrong to keep it. Flyaway had no conscience, or, if she had any,