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"'Fresh ink, red as a lobster!" "This minute!" cried Grace. "'As green as a pea! Who'll bid? Going! Going!" "Now, do give it to me, Lonnie," said Susy, climbing into a chair, and reaching after it; "you ain't fair a bit." "'Do you say you bid a bit? That's a ninepence, ma'am. It's yours; going, gone for a ninepence. Knocked off to Miss Parlin."
"Do they die with that?" cried Susy, seizing hold of her grandmother's dress. "O, stop a minute; is she going to die?" "We hope not," said Mrs. Parlin, "but she is so sick that we shall send a despatch for your mother. I want you to try and keep the house still, girls, and coax Horace to stay out of doors." "Keep the house still? I guess we will!" said Grace.
"Good by, Emily," said she, as she parted from her. "I hope there won't any more bad things happen to you." "But I s'pose there will," replied Emily, cheerfully. Mr. Parlin and Horace were waiting in the hall, and the latter was impatiently watching the tall clock. They had been in the greenhouse, looking at the flowers, and in the shop, where the blind boys learn to make brooms and brushes.
"Have you been thinking, dear, and are you sorry and ready to come out?" "Yes, um," replied the little culprit, with her mouth full, and feeling very brave as long as the door was shut between her and her jailer. "Yes, um, I've thought it all up, defful solly. But you won't never shut me up no more, gamma Parlin!"
Parlin explained to her little daughter, as well as she could, the omnipresence and infinite goodness of God; and while she was still talking, in low, soothing tones, the little one fell asleep. But about midnight there was a sudden alarm. Lights glanced here and there over the house, and Susy and Prudy were wakened from a deep sleep by the sound of voices. Dotty had a violent attack of croup.
Percy broke in with an old song, and went through with a whole stanza of it, although no one listened to a word: "Good luck unto old Christmas, And long life let us sing, For he doeth more good unto the poor Than many a crownéd king." "My beautiful books!" cried aunt Madge; "Russia morocco." "My writing-desk, has any one looked at it?" said Mrs. Parlin; "rose-wood, inlaid with brass."
Why, when did you get home?" By this time Mrs. Parlin had come out: also Mrs. Eastman and Johnny. Everybody was as surprised and delighted as possible; and even Miss Dimple, sitting in state in the coach, was perfectly satisfied, and condescended to alight, instead of riding through the carriage gateway. "O, Dotty Dimple, I'm so glad to see you!" cried Prudy.
Prudy, who was dropping off to sleep, murmured, "No." "But it's real too bad, Prudy. I never saw such a lazy old hen did you? Prudy, did you?" Presently, when Prudy thought it must be nearly morning, there was a clutch upon her shoulder, and a voice cried in her ear, "I don't see what makes you go to sleep, Prudy Parlin, when my foot aches so bad! And O, how I want a drink o' water!"
Little did she imagine she was filling her great grand-daughter's head with mischievous notions!" They walked on a short way in silence. "But you must remember, Katharine, that was seventy years ago. Grandma Parlin wouldn't advise a girl of fourteen to do in these days as she did then. Schools are very different now." "Yes, indeed, mamma, very, very different. Isn't it too bad?
"O, here's a splendid piece of blue ribbon to make my doll a bonnet," said Dotty. "That's another reason why she picks 'em over," remarked Jennie; "so she won't waste things. Only, Dotty, that has got an awful grease-spot." "There, children," said Mrs. Parlin, presently, "I have taken out a card of hooks and eyes, a flannel bandage, and a shoe-string. You may have everything else."
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