"O, mother, may I tell a story? Once there were two old--two maiden ladies in Nantucket, and they earned their living by going round the island picking up the 'tag-locks' the sheep had left hanging to the bushes and rocks. Now, you wouldn't believe, would you, mother, that those two women could get rich by selling tag-locks?"

"I certainly should not," replied Mrs. Clifford, smiling fondly on her young son; for she saw and approved of his kind little scheme for diverting his cousin's attention.

"Well, mother, they lived to be more than sixty years old; and when they made their wills, how much money do you suppose they had to leave? I wish you'd try to guess."

"Dear me," said Mrs. Clifford, "I'm sure I can't imagine: I shall have to give it up."

"So must I," said grandmamma; "I make such poor work at guessing: I suppose they lived very frugally?"

"A thousand dollars?" suggested Grace.

"A million?" said Susy.

"A shilling?" chimed in Aunt Louise.

"_Not one cent!_" replied Horace.

"Well, well," said grandmother, "you've caught us napping this time."

But only she and Aunt Maria appreciated Horace's gallantry towards his sensitive cousin Prudy.

CHAPTER VII.

A DAY ON THE SOFA.

When Dotty Dimple awoke that morning, she was very much astonished to see the sun so high.

"The sky looks very clean," said she, "and I should think it might after such a washing."

She did not know it, but for some reason the pure blue of the heavens made her feel dissatisfied with herself. Since she had slept upon it, her last night's conduct seemed worse to her than ever. All this while her grandmamma's forgiveness had not been asked. Must it be asked? Dotty hung her proud head for shame. Then she offered her morning prayer, and promised G.o.d that henceforth she would try to be good.

"If Jennie Vance only stays away," added she, meekly.

The fact was, Dotty was losing faith in herself. She had boasted that she never told a lie; she had "preached" to Jennie Vance; and now, behold, what had she been doing herself! The child was full of good resolutions to-day, but she began to find that her strongest purposes did not hold together any longer than her gingham dresses.

Her foot was so lame and swollen that she made believe the staircase was a hill, and slid down it accordingly. As she hobbled by the parlor door, she saw her Aunt Maria seated on the sofa sewing. It must be very late, she knew. Little Flyaway, who had been chasing the cat, ran to meet her, looking very joyful because her cousin had overslept herself.

"It's half past o'clock," said she, clapping her little hands; "half past o'clock, Dotty Dimple!"

Dotty felt quite ashamed, but her grandmother a.s.sured her that although it was nearly ten o'clock, she was perfectly excusable. She seated her in an easy chair, and gave her a cracker to nibble; for Dotty said she was not hungry, and did not care for breakfast.

There was one thought uppermost in the little girl's mind: she must ask her grandmother's forgiveness. Some children might not have seen the necessity, but Dotty had been well instructed at home; she knew this good, kind grandmamma was deserving of the highest respect, and if any of her grandchildren disobeyed her, they could do no less than acknowledge their fault. But Dotty was a very proud child; she could not humble herself yet.

Mrs. Parlin dressed the lame foot, and pitied it, and was very sorry the little girl had any soreness of the throat; but not a word of reproach did she utter; she was waiting to see if Dotty had anything to say for herself.

Susy and Prudy had gone to Aunt Martha's and, till "the Charlie boy"

came, there was no one at home for company but little Katie. Dotty did not wish to think; so she made the best of the little ones, and played "keep school."

Black Dinah was the finest-looking pupil, but there were several others made of old shawls and table-covers, who sat bolt upright, and bore their frequent whippings very meekly. Katie and Charlie each held a birch switch, and took the government of the school, while Dotty did the teaching.

"Spell _man_," said Dotty, sternly, pointing with a bodkin at Dinah.

Dinah was sulky, and kept her red silk mouth shut; but Dotty answered for her: "m, a, n, man."

"To," said she to the black and white shawl: "t, o, to." "Put," to the green table-cover: "p, u, t, put."

"We 'shamed o' you," said Katie, beating the whole school unmercifully.

"Why don't you mind in a minute? Let _me_ spell 'em! Hush, Dinah! Say put! T, o, put!"

"I think," said Dotty, laughing, "it is time now for Dinah to take her music lesson."

"Yes," said Katie, "lady wants um to packus."

So the colored miss was set on the music stool, and both her kid hands spread out upon the keys.

"Don't um packus booful?" said Katie, admiringly.

But next moment Charlie was punishing the pupil because she didn't "breeve." "Kady wanth her to breeve when her packithith."

As it was an ingrain misfortune of Dinah's that she could not breathe, she showed no signs of repentance.

"Stop!" said Dotty; "she looks faint; it is rheumatism, I think."

"O, O, roosum-tizzum! Poo' Dinah!" said Katie.

"We must pack her in a wet sheet," said Dotty.

Katie was sent to the kitchen for a towel and a basin of water; and very soon Dinah's clothes were removed, and she was rolled up in a pack; like the boy in the swamp, with "not a bit of her out but the end of her nose."

"Ow! Ow!" cried Katie, in a tone of agony, speaking for Dinah. "Ow! O, dear!"

This was what the black patient would have said, no doubt, if she had had her faculties. Aunt Maria came in, a little alarmed, to inquire what was the matter with Katie.

"Nuffin, mamma, only we _suffer_ Dinah," replied the child, dancing round the patient; "her wants to ky, but her can't. Gets caught in her teef comin' out!"

"Very well," said Mrs. Clifford, kissing the small nurse, "you may 'suffer' Dinah as much as you like, but please don't scream quite so loud."

"Is grandma busy, Aunt 'Ria?" said Dotty; "because I'd like to see her a moment."

The child had seized her knitting-work. Her face was flushed and eager.

She thought she felt brave enough to open her heart to her grandmother; but when Mrs. Parlin entered the nursery, her face beaming with kindness, Dotty was not ready.

"O, grandma," stammered she, "are there any ducks hatched? Don't you think that hen is very slow and very lazy?"

Mrs. Parlin knew her little granddaughter had not called her out of the kitchen merely to ask about the poultry. She seated herself on the sofa, and drew Dotty's head into her lap.