Little Prudys Dotty Dimple | Page 7

if I once do get her safe
home," thought outraged Prudy.
Dotty was not allowed to attend Sabbath school again that year; but it
was a long time before she forgot some of the things she had heard
Miss Carlisle say. Many of the strange words rang in her ears for weeks
after wards, though she said nothing about them.
One day she rushed into the nursery out of breath. Prudy was kneeling
before her little trunk, putting in order the paper dolls, which Dotty had
scattered over the floor. They were a sad sight. Some of them had lost
their heads, and some had lost their fine clothes, which are worth as
much as heads any day--to dolls.
But Dotty did not stop to look at the mischief she had made. Her

thoughts were of other matters. She had brought from the kitchen a
"Tom Thumb lamp" and a bunch of matches.
Without a word she seated herself on the floor, behind her sister, and
drew off her shoes and stockings. She looked for a moment at her little
pink toes, then rubbed the whole bunch of matches on the carpet,
saying to herself, "A lamp to my feet."
But, somehow, the lamp would not light itself. Dotty did not know how
to turn back the chimney, and, though there was certainly blaze enough
in the matches, it did not catch the wick. It leaped forward and caught
the skirt of Prudy's dress.
"You're burnin' afire! You're burnin' afire!" shouted Dotty, dancing
around her sister. Prudy now felt the heat, and screamed too, bringing
her mother and Norah to the spot at once. The flames were soon
smothered in a rug, and so Prudy's life was mercifully saved.
It was sometime before any one understood what Dotty had been trying
to do with a light.
"I was just only a-puttin' a lamp to my feet," sobbed she. "I learned it to
Sabber school."
But the little one's rare tears were soon dried by a romp with Zip out of
doors.
"It's queer how things always happen just right," said Prudy, still
trembling from her fright. "You said, if I'd been wearing my calico,
mother, I'd have been scorched. And you know it was only the littlest
while ago I put on this blue delaine, to go to auntie's in!"
CHAPTER IV.
THE NESTLINGS.
An hour or two after this, Mrs. Parlin, Susy, Prudy, and Zip went to
visit Mrs. Eastman, who now lived a little way out of town.

Dotty was driving ducks, and did not see her mother and sisters when
they started.
"Where is they, Nono? And where's Prudy?"
"Gone walking. Your mamma told you they were going," replied Norah,
setting a basin of water and a brush and comb on the stand.
"Well, Prudy's runned away," cried Dotty, "Naughty girl; made out o'
dirt!"
"Come here, Miss Dimple, and let me brush your hair."
"Well, here's my hair, Nono, but you mustn't pull it; 'tisn't your hair! O,
I want to kiss my mamma, I do!"
"Your mamma will be back again this evening."
"Don't want to kiss her in the evening--want to kiss her now!"
"What makes you in such a hurry to kiss your mother?"
"O, I just only want to tell her to whip Prudy. Naughty Prudy runned
away! Made out o' dirt!"
Dotty always looked very low-spirited while her long hair was being
curled over a stick, and now was more unhappy than usual, for it was
one of her "temper days."
But at last cousin Percy Eastman happened to call in, and declared he
must take his pretty cousin home with him in the carriage.
"I'll get her ready," said Norah; "but you're sure to be sorry if you take
her, for she's brimming over with mischief to-day."
Dotty danced like a piece of thistledown. "There, Nono," said she, "I's
goin' to auntie's my own self; Prudy'll have to give up."
All this time Mrs. Parlin and the two older children were having a fine

walk. It was a bright June day. Prudy said she had to sing to herself for
all the things she saw looked as happy as if they were alive. As Prudy
talked, she flew from flower to flower, like a honey-bee.
"I can't wait for Prudy to walk so zigzag," said Susy.
Mrs. Parlin suggested that Susy should keep on, and tell her aunt
Eastman they were coming. Then she allowed Prudy to walk as
"zigzag" as she pleased; for Mrs. Parlin had long patience with her
children.
"O, mamma," said Prudy, suddenly stopping short, and standing on one
foot; "if there isn't a cow!"
"I see, my dear, she is eating the sweet grass."
"Yes, 'm; but don't its horns flare out like a pitchfork? Do you s'pose