. Rosenberg had a great many children, and was obliged to work very
hard at various employments. Just now she went to spreading pumpkin-seeds
to dry under the stove. She was not expecting company; and when Mandoline
entered with Dotty, she looked up from her work with a frown.

"Who've you brought home with you this time, Mandoline Rosenberg?" said
she. "Take off your hat and hang it over them tommatuses; but mind yer
don't drop it into that dish of lard."

"Mother," pleaded Mandoline, "we want to go up chamber to see my pretty
things; her mother sent her a-purpose."

"No, she didn't; no such a thing! You're a master hand to pick up
children and fetch 'em home here, and then crawl out of it by lying!
Besides, you've got to knit. I must have those socks done by to-morrow
noon, Mandy, or I'll know the reason why."

As Mrs. Rosenberg spoke, she pushed a waiter full of seeds under the
stove as if she hated the very sight of them; and when she stood up
again, Dotty observed that her dirty calico dress did not come anywhere
near the tops of her calf-skin shoes.

"But, mother," said Mandoline, with a winning smile, "this is Dotty
Dimple, the little girl that gave me the needle-book."

This was partly true. Dotty had given Mandoline an old needle-book; but
it had been in return for some maple sugar, which the little Jewess had
pilfered from her father's store.

"Dotty Dimple, is it?" said Mrs. Rosenberg, with a sharp look at the
little guest.

"I don't know now any better than I did before. That's a name for a
doll-baby; I should say."

"Alice Parlin, mother."

"Is it? O, well; you may take her up stairs out of my way; but mind, you
must knit every minute you're gone."

Dotty was greatly abashed by this reception, and would have rushed out of
the house, but Mandoline held her fast.

"You shan't go a step," said she, "I'll hide your hat."

So Dotty, under peril of going home bareheaded, was obliged to creep up
the rickety staircase with Mandoline. She likened her feelings on the
occasion to those of a person whom "the mayor is putting in the lockup."
Indeed, the "lock-up" was Dotty's dream of all the horrors, and she had
no doubt it was the mayor himself who always stood with his hands
outstretched, ready to thrust wicked people into it.

The chamber which the little girls entered was an unfinished one, and
from the rafters hung paper bags of dried herbs; for, besides being a
housekeeper and clerk, Mrs. Rosenber