a _buggler_"

There was quite a steep hill to walk over, and she found it anything
but a path of roses. Once or twice she stumbled and fell upon her hands
and knees.

"Seems to me," said she, drawing out her foot, which had sunk above the
ankle in coal,--"seems to me I have as many feet as a caterpillar."

But she kept on, down the Hill of Difficulty, till she reached solid
ground. It was not a very cheerful apartment, that is certain. The light
had much difficulty in getting in at the little windows, and when it did
fight its way through it was not good for much; it was a gloomy light,
and looked as if it had had a hard time.

Dotty went up to the furnace for comfort. It was a tall, black thing,
doing its best to give warmth and cheer to the rooms up stairs, but it
was of no use to the cellar. It was like some brilliant people, who shine
in society, but are dull and stupid at home. Dotty opened the furnace
door, and tried to warm her cold fingers.

"Why, my hands are as black as a _sip_," sighed she; as if she could have
expected anything else.

There did not seem to be one ray of hope in her little dark soul. She
had no tears to shed,--she seldom had,--but when she was in trouble, she
was always in the lowest depths.

"Pretty well for me to make believe I was a thief, and was going to
steal! 'Who is this strange little girl?' said he; 'it _looks_ like--'"

She heard voices near the cellar door. What if Norah should come down
after butter? Dotty was not prepared for that. She could not hide in the
keg of lard, of course; and what _should_ she do?

"My head is tipside up; I can't think." Then she began to wonder how long
she could live down there, in case she was not discovered.

"I s'pose I can climb up on the swing shelf, and sleep there nights. I
can hide behind things in the daytime, and when I'm hungry I can eat out
of the jars and boxes."

The sound of voices came down distinctly from the kitchen overhead. Dotty
crouched behind an apple barrel, and listened. Grandma Read was talking
to Mrs. Parlin, who seemed to be in another room.

"Mary, my glasses _are_ gone this time," said she. "If little Alice were
only here, I should set her to hunting."

"She don't know I'm in the house this minute," thought Dotty; "no,
_under_ the house. Dear me!"

With that she walked softly up the stairs, and listened at the
door-latch; for the sound of her grandmother's voice was encouraging, and
Dotty, in her lonelin