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Updated: May 26, 2025
"I like 'The Lost Sylphid' the best," said Prudy; "but was she a great butterfly, do you s'pose? The stories are all just as nice; just like book stories. I shouldn't think anybody made 'em up. Aunt 'Ria can write as good as the big girls to the grammar-school. I promised not to believe a single word; and I sha'n't. Long ago, in fair Burgundy, lived a lad named Cristobal.
Her little forefinger was as good as most people's tongues, and served as a tolerably good guide-post, for it pointed the way she meant to go herself, and the way she wished others to go. One day, while Mrs. Parlin was making currant jelly, she allowed Prudy to stay in the kitchen, and see her strain the beautiful crimson juice.
But now, just as she had learned to skate on the basin with other little girls and young ladies, and could drive Wings anywhere and everywhere she pleased, it was a sore trial to give up these amusements for the sake of spending more hours with poor little Prudy. She was very self-denying at first, but it grew to be an "old story."
So saying, she held out the little red mitten she was knitting, and at the same time took the spectacles off her nose and offered them to Prudy. Prudy laughed. "Why, grandma! my eyes are as good as can be. I don't wear glasses." "So thee doesn't, child, surely. I am a little absent-minded, thinking of old mother Knowles."
She did not know what a wedding might be, but was sure it had pies in it. "There goes a right smart little girl," said Horace, with a sweep of his thumb towards the Cleveland cars. "If it wasn't for Prudy, I should like her better than any other cousin I have in the world." "She is an engaging child," replied his mother, "and really seems to be outgrowing her naughty ways."
In the place where it stands there will soon be a black ruin! "The fire is lapping and licking," says Prudy, "like a cat eating cream." "I hope it has a good time eating our house up!" cried Dotty, in wrath. Susy groans. Dotty thinks they are going to be beggars in rags and jags.
"And I'll read the paper to you if your eyes ache," went on Prudy; "and we are going to be just as happy, papa!" "An' vindegar canny," struck in Katie. "O, hush, now!" whispered Dotty, covering the child's mouth with her handkerchief. The whole house was fragrant with flowers, and had such a festive appearance, that Mr. Parlin kept exclaiming, "Ah, indeed!" and stroking his beard.
"He said, 'Miss Prudy, I'm going to be married. Only think! and he such a very old bachelor." "Did thee dream out the bride?" "It was Mother Goose." "Very well," said Mrs. Read, smiling. "I should think that was a very good match." "She did look so funny, grandma, with a great hump on her nose, and one on her back! Santa Claus kissed her; and what do you think she said?"
"Why," laughed Dotty, "she means that scarecrow." The corn was up long ago, but one direful image had still been left to flaunt in the sunlight and soak in the rain. "That isn't a man," said Prudy; "it's only a great monstrous rag baby, with a coat on." "Put there to frighten away the crows," added Miss Polly.
You don't mean any harm, Prudy, but you say so much that I'm afraid I shall forget my lesson. I keep saying it over to myself, you know." Susy and Prudy belonged in different classes. Susy recited from a question book, and Prudy learned verses from the Bible. Dotty Dimple went with Prudy into Miss Carlisle's class, where eight or ten little girls were already seated.
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