"Please look at my knitting-work, grandma. Shall I seam that st.i.tch or _plain_ it?"

"You are doing very well," said Mrs. Parlin, looking at the work; "you seamed in the right place."

Dotty cast about in her mind for something more to say.

"Grandma, you know what fireflies are? Well, if you scratch 'em will they light a lamp? Susy says they have _fosfos_ under their wings, like a match."

"No, Alice; with all the scratching in the world, they could not be made to light a lamp."

Dotty sighed.

"Grandma, there are some things in this world I hate, and one is skeetos."

"They are vexatious little creatures, it is true."

There was a long pause.

"Grandma, are skeetos idiotic? You said people without brains were idiotic, and there isn't any place in a skeeto's head for brains."

"Dotty," said grandma, rising with a smile, "if you sent for me to ask me such foolish questions as these, I must really beg to be excused. I have a pudding to make for dinner."

"Grandma, O, grandma," cried Dotty, seizing her skirts, "I have something to say, now truly; something real sober. I--I--"

"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Parlin, encouragingly.

"I--I--O, grandma, which do you think can knit the best, Prudy or I?"

"My dear Dotty," said the kind grandmother, stroking the child's hair, "don't be afraid to tell the whole story. I know you have a trouble at your heart. Do you think you were a naughty girl last night?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: DOTTY AND "THE CHARLIE BOY."--Page 113.]

Dotty's head drooped. She tried to say, "Yes, ma'am;" but, like Dinah, "the words got caught in her teef comin' out."

"We didn't go where you thought we did, grandma," faltered she at last.

"Mr. Crossman has two orchards, and we went to just the one you wouldn't have s'posed."

"Yes, dear; so I have learned to-day."

"I deceived you a-purpose, grandma; for if I hadn't deceived you, you wouldn't have let me go."

There was a sorrowful expression on Mrs. Parlin's face as she listened to these words, though they told her nothing new.

"Has you got a pain, gamma?" said little Katie, tenderly.

"I did another wickedness, grandma," said Dotty, in a low voice; "I went barefoot, and you never said I might."

"Poor little one, you were sorely punished for that," said grandma, kindly.

"And another, too, I did; I threw my basket away; but that wasn't much wicked; Jennie made me think perhaps 'twas a non."

"A what?"

"A _non_, that catches lightning, you know; so I threw it away to save my life."

Grandma smiled.

"And now," continued Dotty, twirling her fingers, "can you--can you--forgive me, grandma?"

"Indeed I can and will, child, if you are truly sorry."

"There now, grandma," said Dotty, looking distressed, "you think I don't feel sorry because I don't cry. I can't cry as much as Prudy does, ever; and besides, I cried all my tears away last night."

Dotty rubbed her eyes vigorously as she spoke, but no "happy mist" came over them.

"Why, my dear little Alice," said grandmamma, "it is quite unnecessary for you to rub your eyes. Don't you know you can _prove_ to me that you are sorry?"

"How, grandma?"

"Never do any of these naughty things again. That is the way I shall know that you really repent. Sometimes children think they are sorry, and make a great parade, but forget it next day, and repeat the offence."

"Indeed, grandma, I don't mean ever to deceive or disobey again," said Dotty, with a great deal more than her usual humility.

"Ask your heavenly Father to help you keep that promise," said Mrs.

Parlin, solemnly.

CHAPTER VIII.

WASHING THE PIG.

After her grandmother had left the room, Miss Dotty lay on the sofa for five minutes, thinking.

"Then it doesn't make any difference how much anybody cries, or how much they don't cry. If they are truly sorry, then they won't do it again; that's all."

Then she wondered if Jennie Vance had asked her step-mother's pardon. She thought she ought to talk to Jennie, and tell her how much happier she would feel if she would only try to be a good little girl.

"That child is growing naughty every day of her life," mused Miss Dimple, with a feeling of pity.

There was plenty of time to learn the morning's lesson by heart, for Dotty was obliged to keep very quiet all day. The thorn had been removed from her foot, but the healing must be a work of time; and more than that, her throat was quite sore.

It seemed as if Susy and Prudy would never come; and when at last their cheerful voices were heard ringing through the house, it was a welcome sound indeed. They had brought some oranges for Katie and Dotty, with sundry other niceties, from Aunt Martha's.

"Did you know," said Dotty, "I haven't had any breakfast to-day? I've lost one meal, and I never shall make it up as long as I live; for I couldn't eat two breakfasts, you know."

"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Aunt Louise, laughing; "if you'll wake me up at twelve o'clock some night, I'll rise and prepare a breakfast for you, and that will make it all right."