g was something of a doctress withal,
and made "bitters" for her particular friends.

"Sit down here on the bed, Dotty Dimple, and look at my paper dolls,"
said Lina, producing from under a disjointed chair, an old cigar box full
of paper heroes and heroines. Mandoline was an artist in he! way, and
these figures were clad in the most brilliant costumes of silver and
gold. Dotty was dazzled. Never before had it been her lot to see such
magnificent dolls,--dolls which shone so in the sun; every one of them a
king or a queen, and fit to wear a crown.

"O, Lina," sighed she, in ecstasy, "where _do_ you get your silver
and gold?"

"Tease for it," replied the little Jewess.

Dotty knew, to her own sorrow, that Lina was capable of teasing. It was
hard to keep so much as an apple or a peppermint away from her if she
happened to set her heart on it.

"I'll give you twenty dolls," said Lina, "if you'll let me have your
ring; and it isn't a very pretty ring, either; looks like brass."

Dotty locked her fingers together.

"You can't tease away my owny dony pearl, Lina, if it _is_ brass; so you
needn't try."

"Mandoline!" called out Mrs. Rosenberg's sharp voice from down stairs,
"are you at work?"

"O, dear!" said Lina, sauntering along to an old chest, and taking her
knitting from the top of it; "that's always the way. I thought if you
came, mother'd let me play."

Dotty understood from this remark why Lina had asked her to go home with
her. It was not because she wished to hear any of Dotty's brilliant
stories, for she had not asked a single question about Out West; it was
because she hoped for a reprieve from the dreaded knitting.

"She's a real naughty little girl," thought Miss Dimple; "and if she
hadn't hided my hat, I'd go right home."

There was a heavy tread on the stairs. Mrs. Rosenberg was coming up,
partly to see if her daughter was knitting, and partly to hang a paper
bag on the long pole overhead. Mandoline was dreadfully afraid of her
mother, and, in her eagerness to be found hard at work, she rattled her
needles very fast, while her fingers wandered aimlessly about among the
stitches. Mrs. Rosenberg detected the cheat at once; and, as she was
needing the money for the socks, she scolded Mandoline soundly, and
pelted her pretty little hands, rat, tat, tat, with a steel thimble.

Dotty was a little startled, and peeped out at Lina from the corners of
her eyes. Mrs. Rosenberg scolded so hard that the pap