et
that looked as if a wagon wheel had rolled over it.

"Fine day, Mrs. Prudy," said Grace; "how have you been, ma'am?"

"I've been a-thinkin'," said Prudy, smiling, "about my present."

"You see we've come a-visiting, Mrs. Prudy," said Grace. "Very sorry,
ma'am, to see your doll looking so sick. Has she got the smallpox?"

"No, ma'am," answered Prudy, delighted, "she's got the measles!"

"Deary me," said Susy, pushing back her cap, and trying to look
frightened, "how was she taken, ma'am?"

"Taken?" repeated Prudy, "taken _sick_! She's got it all over her."

"Poor little creeter!" cried Grace, rolling up her eyes, "how she must
suffer! I hope she's out of her head. Does she have her senses,
ma'am?"

"Her _what_?" said Prudy. "O, yes'm, she's got 'em. I laid 'em up on
the shelf, to keep 'em for her."

Here the two visitors turned away their heads to laugh. "What do you
s'pose my present will be?" said Prudy, forgetting their play. "Look
here, Susy, I could take that vase now, and smash it right down on the
floor, and break it, and grandma wouldn't scold--'cause I'm sick, you
know."

"But you wouldn't do it," said Grace. "O, here come Mr. Allen and aunt
Madge. Now, Mrs. Prudy, you're going to have a ride."

Mr. Allen laughed to see aunt Madge bundle Prudy so much, and said the
child would be so heavy that he could not carry her in his arms; but I
think he found her only too light after all.

Prudy almost forgot how hungry she was when she was seated in her
little carriage and wheeled about the pleasant yard. She had an idea
that the trees and the flowers in the garden were having good times,
and the open windows of the house looked as if they were laughing. But
she did not say much, and when aunt Madge asked her what made her so
quiet, she said she was "a-thinkin'." And the most of her small
thoughts were about her present.

"Now," said Mr. Allen, "I'm going to hold you up so you can peep over
into the pig-pen. There, do you see that little mite of a white
piggy?"

"O, dear, dear, dear!" cried Prudy, clapping her hands, "what a
cunning little piggy-wiggy! He looks nice enough to eat right up! I
never did see such a darling! O, he winks his eyes--see him! He ain't
dead, is he? Not a mite?"

"No, my little dear, he's alive enough, if that's all," said Mr.
Allen.

"O, my stars!" said Prudy, sighing with delight. "Don't you wish you
had such a pretty pink nose, and such little bits of shiny eyes?"

Mr.