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Updated: May 11, 2025
"My darling child," said she, hugging and kissing her just as tenderly as if she had never been "wherrying." "You'd better lie down again, and let me bathe your head." Dotty sprang into bed instantly. She was glad her mother had asked her to do something, so she might prove her desire to obey. She liked the touch of those cool fingers on her forehead.
"Been down to the beach, picking shells, grandma," replied Dotty, looking hard at the carpet. "O, where are the shells?" said Prudy. "I'm sure I don't know; I didn't find any. I didn't come back the same way I went," replied Dotty, twirling her favorite lock of hair over her finger. "Didn't come back the same way?" "No, I went wherrying." "Wherrying?" repeated Prudy. "Yes, that's what I said."
The Portland fire had affected the Parlin family in more ways than one; and it would be long before the three little girls would settle into their usual quiet habits again. "Prudy," said Dotty, "you needn't say that word 'wherrying' to me any more. Mamma said there mus'n't anybody tease me about that, because I've I've repented it all up." "O, I'm so glad!" replied Prudy.
"Prudence, what does thee suppose the child means?" said grandma Read, taking off her spectacles, and fixing her kind eyes steadily upon Dotty Dimple. "Wherrying in a wherry," answered Dotty, dryly. "Does thee mean in a boat?" "Why no, grandma. It looks like a boat, but it isn't; it's a wherry." "Who allowed thee to go on the water?" "Nobody." "Did thee think thee was doing right?" "No'm."
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