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Updated: May 26, 2025
Aunt Martha and Bridget were taking up the dinner when Prudy went down into the kitchen, calling out, "O, Bridget, may I have some white tea?" "White tay!" said Bridget; "and what may that be now?" "O, some white tea, in a cup, you know, with sugar. They let me have it every little once in a while." "Milk and water, I suppose," said aunt Martha. "Can't you wait till dinner, my dear?"
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!"
"I guess," pursued Prudy, "the man that shooted found 'twas uncle Henry, and so he didn't want to kill him down dead." How the family found time to do so many things that day, I do not know, especially as each one was in somebody's way, and the children under everybody's feet.
You see if something awful doesn't happen before we get back." "O, I hope not," replied sister Madge, laughing. "I think there is nothing so very wicked about our little nieces." "Here is your parasol, auntie," said Prudy, coming back. "I know who I love best of any body in this house, and it ain't the one that's got her bonnet on it's a-r-n-t, aunt, M-i-g, Madge."
"But I hop on one foot, too," said little Prudy, "and you don't laugh at me." "This is a droll little head for fancies," said Mrs. Parlin, patting Prudy's curls, and looking at grandma Read. "Do you know, mother, that for several days she has made believe she was lame Jessie, and has hobbled about whenever she could think of it."
I think a little baby, that tips over if you touch it, could not be weaker than Prudy was when she began to get well. Ah, but it was so joyful to see her own sweet smile once more, though never so faint! And every low word she spoke now dropped from her lips like a note of music.
I guess he misses Prudy." "I don' know I ate a little dog once," said Prudy, wiping her eyes. "He was made out of a doughnut. Once when I lived to Portland to my mother's Portland I used to eat things." Poor grandma herself could hardly keep from crying to see Prudy so hungry. "Here is some nice arrow-root," said she. "You may have it all if you like.
"I'm glad father's dressing-gown and slippers didn't get scorched," said Prudy; "and the piano sounds as sweetly as ever it did. It sounds to me just as if there was a family in there, living inside." "Like what?" "O, you know there are four parts playing at once, and it seems as if it was a man and his wife, and two children, all singing together!"
Here Prudy gave her talkative sister a pinch; for they were surrounded by people, and Aunt Madge was giving ferry-tickets to a man who stood in a stall, and brushed them towards him into a drawer. "Does he stay in it all night?" whispered Fly; "he can't lie down, no more'n a hossy can." "Here, child, don't try to get down out of my arms. I must carry you into the boat.
"Why, Jennie," said she, with ready sympathy, "I don't think you're so very homely; not half so homely, any way, as some of the girls at Portland." Jennie frowned and bit her thumb. Prudy smiled "behind her mouth," but Dotty was serenely unconscious that she had given offence.
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