At the second table she
split her johnny-cake, and spread it open, saying it was a
singing-book, and began to sing out of it,--

"Little drops of water,
Little _grains_ of sand."

Grandma heard her from the next room, and came in very much surprised.

"What shall I do with such a little girl as this?" said she, shaking
her finger at Prudy.

"I think," answered the child, "you ought to call me to you and say,
'You been a-singin' to the table, Prudy.' Then I'll say 'Yes'm;' and
you'll say, 'Prudy, go right out in the kitchen, and don't let me see
you till you come back pleasant.'"

Grandma put her head out of the window a moment, for she didn't want
any body to see her smile.

"This is one of Prudy's days," thought she. "I'm really afraid I shall
have to punish her before it's over."

Very soon after breakfast the doorbell rang, and a little boy left a
note directed to Miss Grace Clifford. It said,--

"Miss Grace Clifford, the Misses Parlin, and Mr. Horace Clifford, are
respectfully invited to a gypsy supper in the Pines."

The children hardly knew what it meant.

"What _is_ jispies?" asked Prudy, a little frightened. "Be they up in
the Pines?"

"It means a picnic, that's all," said aunt Madge, "and a very nice
time you will have."

"A picnic!" screamed all the voices in chorus. It was almost too good
to believe. Grace clapped her hands and laughed. Susy ran about the
room like a crazy thing. Prudy hopped up and down, and Horace tried to
stand on his head.

"Now scamper, every one of you," said aunt Madge, "for I must go right
to cooking.--Let's see, you shall have some cunning little sandwiches,
some hard-boiled eggs; and what else can you think of, Louise?"

"Stop a minute," said aunt Louise, drawing on a long face, "I hope
Susy and Prudy----"

"Tarts and plum-cake!" cried Susy and Grace.

"Oranges, dates, and figs!" said Horace.

"And them little cookies you cut out of a thimble, you know," added
Prudy, anxious to put in a word.

"Hear me speak," said aunt Louise. "I hope Susy and Prudy don't think
they are going to this picnic, for the truth is, they haven't been
invited."

"Not invited?" gasped Susy.

"The note says, 'the Misses Parlin,'" said aunt Louise, gravely. "That
might mean your grandmother, but it doesn't! I take it to mean _the
young ladies_, Madge (or Mig) and Louise, your beautiful aunties, who
are often called 'the Misses Parlin.' Of course it _can't_ mean two
little