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Updated: May 6, 2025
Ruth held Prudy's little hand in a firm grasp, and wished she had held it so all the afternoon; "for," as she said, to herself, "she's a very slippery child." This had been a trying day for Prudy, and when aunt Madge put her to bed, her sweet blue eyes wouldn't stay shut. "Where do they grow, auntie?" said she, "them black folks. Be they the jispies?"
I do not know what Horace thought then, but he had to think fast. If he had been older he might have plunged in after Prudy, but he was only a little boy, seven years old, so he ran for the house. O, how he ran! Aunt Madge was ironing in the back kitchen. She heard heavy breathing, and the quick pattering of feet, and the words gasped out, "Prudy's in the river!"
Prudy's bright spirits rose again at these words, and she thought she would keep on trying to make herself useful. It was aunt Madge she wanted to help good aunt Madge, who was so busy cooking for the gypsy supper. "I'll feed her bird," thought the child; "he sings as if he was hungry." Now aunt Madge had fed little Daffy before sunrise, and he was as yellow and happy as a canary can be.
You see I'm here with my wagon and barrels, and I suppose you perceive that I've come for your bones!" These whispered words fell on Prudy's ears with terrible force. A vague terror seized her. "I've come for your bones!" What could he mean? Was he an ogre, right out of a fairy-book? What did he want of that poor woman's bones?
The calico pieces went into the rag-bag, and that was the last of Prudy's patchwork. One day the children wanted to go and play in the "new house," which was not quite done. Mrs. Parlin was almost afraid little Prudy might get hurt, for there were a great many loose boards and tools lying about, and the carpenters, who were at work on the house, had all gone away to see some soldiers.
"Was it the woman's child that made you dig, that you told about last summer?" "Yes; I was a bound girl." "Bound to what?" Dotty was trying to drown the remembrance of Prudy's ten cents; so she wished to keep Miss Polly talking. "Bound to Mrs. Potter till I was eighteen years old. Her husband kept public house. They made a perfect slave of me.
"It is no matter about advertising Prudy's purse, it was so shabby," said Aunt Madge; and on their way back to the ferry-house she bought her another. "O, thank you, auntie, darling," said Prudy; "and thank you, too, Horace, for losing my old one; it wasn't fit to be seen. And here is a whole dollar inside! O, Aunt Madge, are you an angel?"
"O, I was afraid you were crying, my dear." "Then I'll stop," said the child. "Now, Mrs. Hogshead, you won't hear me singing any more, it mortifies my mother very much." So Prudy made her fingers fly, and soon said, "Now, mamma, I've got it done, and I'm ready to be took out!" Just then her father came into the house. "Prudy's in the hogshead," said Mrs. Parlin.
"You must say doctor, when you speak to me. Now, my dear patient, it's best for you to lie on the lounge, and take medicine in the chest. Poor young lady, we shall be so glad when you get your health all well! Do you want me to extricate a tooth? Have you any headache, miss?" Prudy's voice was low and sympathetic. "Yes, Dr.
After the table was cleared away they sang several pieces, and Prudy's sweet little voice filled all the pauses with some funny little chorus of her own. When the party broke up, the children were quite tired out, and glad to go to bed. "Well," said Grace, as they went slowly upstairs, "didn't my picnic go off nicely?" "Your pignig?" said Prudy; "why it b'longs to me! I had it myself."
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