Little Prudy's Dotty Dimple Part 6

"There, Prudy," said she, pertly; "what made you let me do it for? You _said_ I'd tear it!"

Mrs. Harlow hastened supper, fearing that Mrs. Parlin might be anxious about her little daughter. Dotty was placed between her two sisters.

Susy pinned a napkin about the child's neck, and in a whisper begged to be allowed to spread her bread and b.u.t.ter for her. Dotty had worn the air of a princess royal all the afternoon; but now, seated in a high chair, and surrounded by a group of admiring little girls, she felt like a crowned queen. Taking her bread in both hands, she crumbed it into her goblet of milk, and began to dip it out with the handle of her fork. The girls looked on and smiled, and Dotty gave a little purr of satisfaction.

"Everybody'll think mother doesn't teach her good manners," thought poor Susy, hardly knowing whether she ate bread or ashes.

"Dear, dear," said Prudy to herself; "Dotty may die some time, and then I should be sorry, and cry. I'll keep thinking of that, so I can bear her awful actions better."

The little princess, from her throne in the high chair, did very rude things; such as coughing and blowing crumbs into her plate, drumming with her feet, and beating time with her fork and spoon. When bread was offered, she said,--

"I don't like _baker's_ bread. I like _daily_ bread."

But this was all the remark she made during the whole meal. At last she ceased eating, coughing, and drumming: there was a "flash of silence."

Everybody looked up. Dotty's eyes were closed, and her head was swaying from side to side, like a heavy apple stuck on a knitting needle--she was fast asleep.

She was wheeled home in a small carriage, followed by a guard of all the girls. Next day she was duly punished by being tied to the bedpost with the clothes-line.

"I wish her _reasons_ would begin to grow," sighed Prudy. "I never can feel happy when Dotty gets into a fuss."

"I've been thinking it all over," replied Susy, "and I've made up my mind that G.o.d allows her to mortify you and me. You know we must have some kind of a trial, or we shouldn't grow gentle and sweet tempered."

"As mother is," added Prudy.

CHAPTER VI.

THE LITTLE TEACHER.

At last Dotty's "reasons" did begin to grow. Her mother was too wise and kind to allow her to have her own naughty way; and by the time she was four years old she had very few "temper days," and seemed to be growing quite lovely.

But her sisters were troubled because she had not yet learned to read.

Prudy remembered how ashamed she herself had felt when she first set out in earnest to go to school. For some time after her lameness she was so delicate that no pains had been taken to teach her to read.

"My little sister must never be so stupid as I was," thought Prudy, uneasily.

Sometimes visitors inquired if Miss Dotty knew her letters, and poor Prudy blushed with shame when Mrs. Parlin calmly replied that she did not.

"I'm sure mother feels mortified," thought Prudy; "but she holds up her head, and tries to make the best of it. I'll not say a word to anybody, but I mean to teach my little sister my own self!"

So one Wednesday afternoon, when Susy was away, Prudy called Dotty into the nursery, and shut the door.

"What you want me of?" asked the child.

"I want to tell you something nice. Don't you wish you knew your A, B, C's, darling? There, that's what it is."

Dotty shook her head three or four times, and looked down at the carpet.

"Why, Dotty Dimple, you oughtn't to do so. You must answer when a question is asked. Wouldn't you like to learn your letters, like a goody girl, so you can read the nice books? Now be polite, and speak."

"I don't want to be polite, and speak, nor I don't want to learn my letters, like a goody gell; so there!" replied Dotty, seizing the kitty, and wrapping her in a shawl.

"O, Dotty Dimple!" said Prudy, in a tone of deep distress; "how old you're getting to be! just think!"

"I'm four years old, and I weigh four pounds," answered Dotty, drawing out her little cab, and throwing the m.u.f.fled kitty into it, as if she had been a roll of cloth.

"O, my stars, Dotty, I can't bear to have you talk so."

Dotty tucked in the kitty's tail, and drew the carriage about the room, to give "Pusheen" an airing. "Pusheen" was her kitty's name in Irish.

"You can't think how dreadful it is, Dotty, to grow up and not know anything!"

Dotty turned a short corner. Pusheen had a fall; down came the little cab, kitty and all.

"To grow up and not know anything," continued Prudy. "O, it's enough to break anybody's heart!"

"Be you goin' to cry?" said Dotty, in a soft voice, kneeling, and peeping up into Prudy's eyes, with some curiosity.

Prudy was obliged to smile but hid her face in the sofa-pillow, and hoped Dotty did not see her. She found she must hit upon some other plan. Dotty could not be made to feel the terrors of growing up a dunce.

"Now, little sister," said she, "if you'll let me be your teacher, and keep school here in the nursery--"

"O, hum! A _little gell_ keep school! Would you send me to the bottom of the foot?"

"O, no! I'll do something for you--let's me see!"

"Well, what?" cried Dotty, her eyes sparkling like blue gems; "what'll you do for me, Prudy?"

Prudy thought a minute. Meanwhile the m.u.f.fled kitty slowly freed herself from the shawl, and slyly leaped to the top of the bureau, out of reach of her little mistress.

"O, Prudy," said Dotty, dancing about; "do something quick."

"Listen, dear! Will you promise to learn to read if I'll tell you a story about every single letter there is on your blocks?"

"How long a story? As long as this room? Yes, I'll promige," cried Dotty, with a gleeful laugh. "Go get the stories, and tell 'em this minute!"

"Now we'll begin," said Prudy, no less delighted, pouring the blocks out of the box upon the floor. "I'll ring the little tea-bell, and call the school to order. The school means _you_, and you must walk in and take your seat."

"Yes, if you'll let me sit in the rocking-chair!"

"O, but that is mine, because I'm the teacher."

"Then I'm goin' off into the kitchen," said Dotty, loftily, "and I don't know as I'll come back. I won't promige."

"O, take the rocking-chair!" replied Prudy quickly. "I'll sit on the ottoman; it's just as good. Glad you spoke of it, Dotty; 'twouldn't be proper for the teacher to rock. Hark! now I tingle the bell. School's begun!"