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Updated: June 17, 2025
"No, sir," replied Dotty, quickly; "she is a westerness." She had heard Horace use the word, and presumed it was correct. "I do wish Dotty would be more afraid of strangers," thought Prudy. "I never will take her anywhere again with a wheelbarrow." Flyaway fluttered around for a minute, and then alighted upon her favorite sweet-meats, "pepnits."
"What would you do, children, if you were driven about, as I used to be, from post to pillar, with no mother to care for you?" "If I hadn't no mamma, I could go barefoot, like a dog," said Flyaway, brightening with the new idea; "I could paddle in the water too, and eat pepnits." "O, child! But what if you had neither father nor mother?"
Birds, flowers, Santa Clauses, Flipperties, and "pepnits" seemed to hover near. Something beautiful was just going to happen, she didn't know what. After the man had played for some time without attracting attention from any body but Flyaway and a poor old beggar woman, he put his harp in a green bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked off. Flyaway followed without knowing it.
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