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Updated: June 23, 2025
Nevertheless the conversation had made some impression on Mrs Fotheringham, for the next day, after studying Iris in silence for some time, she said suddenly: "Were you sorry not to go to the seaside after Lottie was ill?" "Lottie?" said Iris; "oh, you mean Dottie. Her real name is Dorothy, you know, only she's so small, and round, and pudgy, Max says she's like a full stop.
"Perhaps he's in that," suggested Dorothy, hopefully. "It sounds as if it might mean almost anything." Beatrice Egerton giggled. "You didn't take the course in nineteenth century essayists, I guess, Dottie. He's not in 'Sweetness and Light, unless Richard Blake is an alibi of Matthew Arnold's."
"Rattled, I guess, but I sure do want to get going," he replied, as he worked the lever rapidly. "Dottie," he sent out, and, the call being answered, "How long will you be? We're all ready and waiting, chewing our finger-nails with impatience." "We'll soon be ready. The Karfedix is coming for us now."
"Oh," replied Iris cheerfully, "I know all about it. It's teething, you know, and then it caught cold, and then it turned to bronchitis. It's been ill a fortnight, but now it's taken a turn." "Has it, indeed?" said Mrs Fotheringham sarcastically. "You see," said Iris, "I know all about bronchitis, because Dottie had it so badly a year ago. We had to keep her in one room for ever so long.
Come back with my supper!” cried the disappointed wolf, and off he ran after Dottie, who had Bully safely on her back. Faster and faster ran the wolf, but faster and faster ran Dottie, and no wolf could ever catch her, no matter how fast he ran.
“Oh, will no one save me?” cried Bully in despair, and just then he heard a rustling in the bushes. He looked up and there he saw Dottie Trot, the little pony girl. She waved her hoof at Bully, and then the frog boy knew she would save him if she could.
He seemed to her a delightful mixture of the ardent boy and the man who, as she understood it, was roughened by lumberman's life. She lifted Dottie on her shoulder and turned homeward. "I will only be a few minutes getting Harold and some candles; don't go without us, I beg of you," she pleaded.
"It was after he told me his baby was ill," she said; "I told him about Dottie being ill, and how many brothers and sisters I had, and their names and ages, and then he told me about his children." "And what possible interest could that be to you?" asked Mrs Fotheringham. "You appear to have very strange tastes.
Minnie chose to give me to understand that she'd prefer to go out with Dottie this afternoon. I just turned away and came straight home. I think she called out after me, but I wouldn't turn my head an inch. I shall decline to ever speak to her again until the time comes when she apologizes. There!" and Helen stamped her little foot on the floor, for emphasis.
The ribbon, Alfredia wore was at least four inches wide and it was tied in front at the roots of her kinky hair into a bow, the wings of which stuck out on each side like a pair of elephant ears. The little colored girl came in at the side gate, drawing the wash-basket after her. "How-do, Miss Ruthie and Miss Aggie? How-do, Tessie and Dottie? You-all gwine to school on Monday?"
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