"You must come again, and stay longer," said aunt Martha; "it is
hardly polite not to let little girls have their dinners--do you think
it is?"
"Yes 'm," replied Flyaway, faintly. She did not understand a word any
one said; it all sounded as indistinct as the roaring of a sea-shell.
By the time she was lifted into her mother's arms in the carriage,
she was nodding again. When they reached home she scarcely spoke,
but, dropping upon the sofa, went on with her dreams. It was odd for
Flyaway to take a nap in the daytime, and such a long one as this!
"It must be a very warm day," said Mrs. Parlin, "for Prudy and Dotty
have been asleep too."
"Where did they go after they sold the rags?" asked Mrs. Clifford;
"they all look pale."
"To a photograph saloon. Here are the tin-types they brought home to
me," replied grandma, producing them from her pocket, with a gratified
smile.
"Very good, mother--don't you think so? I would be glad to have as
truthful a likeness of our little Katie; but she must be taken asleep.
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