"
"If you're going to have the blues, Miss Dotty, I'll thank you kindly
just to take yourself out of this kitchen. Polly Whiting is here, and
she is as much as a body can endures in this dull weather."
"It's pitiful 'bout the rain, Dotty; but you mustn't scold when God
sended it," said Flyaway, dropping the feeble Dinah, and pursuing her
cousin round the room with a pin. In a minute they were both laughing
gayly, till Flyaway caught herself on her little rocking-chair, and
"got a _torn_ in her apron." That ended the sport.
"What shall I do to make myself happy?" said Dotty, musingly; for she
wished to put off all thought of Prudy's money. "I should like to roll
out some thimble-cookies, but Ruthie hasn't much patience this
morning. I never dare do things when her lips are squeezed together
so."
But Flyaway dared do things. She took up the kitty, and played to her
on the "music," till Ruth's ears were "on edge." After this the
harmonica fell into a dish of soft soap, and in cleaning it with ashes
and a sponge, the holes became stopped.
Pages:
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119