"Yes, 'm," replied Dotty, determined to give no more information than was necessary.

"She's gone off," struck in Katie; "gone to Dusty, my mamma has."

"Ah indeed! to Augusta?" repeated Mrs. Gray, thoughtfully. "Any of your friends sick there?"

"No, ma'am," replied Dotty, scowling at her shoes.

"She's gone," continued Katie, gravely, "to buy me Free Little Kittens."

Mrs. Gray smiled. "I should think your mother could find kittens enough in this town, without going to Augusta. I thought I saw Horace on the top of the stage, but I wasn't sure."

Dotty made no reply.

"Hollis was," cried Katie, eagerly; "he goed to Dusty too. I fink they put Hollis in jail!"

"In jail!" exclaimed Mrs. Gray, throwing up her hands.

"He stealed, Hollis did," added Katie, solemnly.

"Hush, Katie, hush!" whispered Dotty Dimple, seizing the child by the hand and hurrying her away. Mrs. Gray followed the children to the door.

"What does she mean, Dotty! what can she have heard?"

"She doesn't mean anything, ma'am," replied Dotty, beginning to run; "and she hasn't heard anything, either."

Dotty's behavior was so odd, that Mrs. Gray's curiosity was aroused. For the moment she quite forgot her anxiety about her little Charlie, who had been missing for some time.

"What made you say Horace stole?" said Dotty, as soon as they were out of hearing.

"Hollis did," answered Katie, catching her breath; "he stealed skosh seeds out of gampa's razor cupbard."

"What did Horace want of squash seeds?"

"He eated 'em; I sawed him!"

"There, you're the funniest baby, Katie Clifford! Now you've been and made Mrs. Gray think your brother's carried to jail."

This was not quite true. Mrs. Gray had no idea Horace had been taken to jail; but she did fancy something had gone wrong at Mrs. Parlin's. She put on her bonnet and ran across the road to Mrs. Gordon's to ask her what she supposed Horace Clifford had been doing, which Dotty Dimple did not wish to hear talked about, and which made her run away when she was questioned.

"I can't imagine," said Mrs. Gordon, very much surprised. "He is a frolicsome boy, but I never thought there was anything wicked about Horace."

Then by and by she remembered how Miss Louise Parlin had lost a breastpin in a very singular manner, and both the ladies wondered if Horace could have taken it.

"One never can tell what mischief children may fall into," said Mrs.

Gray, rubbing her cheek-bone; "and that reminds me how anxious I am about my little Charlie; he ought to have been at home an hour ago."

While Mrs. Gray was saying this in Mrs. Gordon's parlor, there was a scene of some confusion in Mr. Parlin's door-yard.

"Who's this coming in at the gate?" cried Dotty.

It was Deacon, but Deacon was only a part of it; the rest was two meal-bags and a small boy. The meal-bags were full, and hung dangling down on either side of the horse, and to each was tied a leg of little Charlie Gray. It was droll for a tiny boy to wear such heavy clogs upon his feet, but droller still to see him resting his curly head upon the horse's mane.

"Ums the Charlie boy," said Katie; "um can't sit up no more."

"Ah, my boy, seems to me you take it very easy," said Abner, who was just coming in from the garden, giving some weeds a ride in the "one-wheeled coach," or wheel-barrow.

"Why don't you hold your head up, darling?" said Dotty.

"O, bring the camphor," screamed Susy; "he's fainted away! he's fainted away!"

"Not exactly," said Abner, untying the strings which held him to the bags. "Old Deacon has done very well this time; the boy is sound asleep."

As soon as Abner had wheeled away his weeds, he mounted the horse and trotted to Mrs. Gray's with the meal-bags, singing for Katie's ear,--

"Ride away, ride away; Charlie shall ride; He shall have bag of meal tied to one side; He shall have little bag tied to the other, And Charlie shall ride to see our grandmother."

The little boy stood rubbing his eyes.

"Why, Charlie, darling," said Prudy, "who tied you on?"

"The man'th boy over there. Hally didn't come cauthe he played ball; and then the man'th boy tied me on."

Charlie made up a lip.

"Let's take him out to the swing," said Prudy. "That will wake him up, and then we'll make a lady's chair and carry him home."

"Don't want to thwing," lisped Charlie.

"What for you don't?" said wee Katie.

"Cauthe the ladieth will thee me."

"O, you's a little scat crow!"

"Hush, Katie," said the older children; "do look at his hair; it curls almost as tight as dandelion stems."

"Thee the dimple in my chin!"

"Which chin?" said Prudy; "you've got three of them."

"And the wuffle wound my neck! Gueth what we've got over to my houthe?

Duckth."

"O, ducks?" cried Dotty; "that's what I want to make me happy. There, Prudy, think of their velvet heads and beads of eyes, waddling about this yard."

"People sometimes take ducks' eggs and put them in a hen's nest," said Prudy, reflectively.

"O, there now," whispered Dotty, "shouldn't you think Mrs. Gray might give me three or four eggs for carrying the milk every single night?"