You may think it
over to-day, and decide for yourself whether you are following the
Golden Rule. Or, if you choose, you may wait and talk with your
mother."
"Yes 'm." Dotty was glad to escape into the kitchen.
CHAPTER XI.
AUNT POLLY'S STORY.
Flyaway sat on the kitchen floor, feeding Dinah with a roasted apple.
As often as Dinah refused a teaspoonful, she put it into her own
mouth, saying, with a wise nod, "My child, she's sick; hasn't any
_appletite_."
Out of doors it was raining heartily. It seemed as if the "upper deep"
was tipping over, and pouring itself into the lap of the earth.
"O, Ruthie," sighed Dotty Dimple, "my mother won't come while it's
such weather. Do you s'pose 'twill ever clear off?" [Blank Page]
[Illustration: FLYAWAY AND DINAH.]
"Yes, I do," replied Ruth, trimming a pie briskly; "it only began last
night at five."
"Why, Ruthie Dillon! it began three weeks ago, by the clock! Don't you
know that day I couldn't go visiting? Only sometimes it stops a while,
and then begins again.
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