t still, Prudy, just as you are. The moon is shining into the window,
on your tears, and it seems as if I could almost see a rainbow in your
eyes!--There, it's gone now. What makes you talk so queer about God,
Prudy? as if you knew a great deal more than I do?"

"I don't know half as much as you do," replied Prudy; "but I used to lie
and think about the Saviour when I had the lameness.--Hark! Is that
Dotty laughing? Let's go in and see if she isn't 'most well."

The child was indeed better; but for the next three nights she suffered
from severe attacks of the croup. Her sisters had not known how they
loved her till she showed her frail side, and they saw how slender was
the thread which bound her to earth. When she was strong, and roguish,
and wilful, they forgot that she was only a tender flower after all, and
might be nipped from the stem any time.

When she was well again, Prudy said to her mother, in confidence, "It
didn't kill her, the croup didn't, but it might have killed her; and I'm
going to love her all the time as if she was really dead, and gone to
heaven."

CHAPTER XI.

BUYING A BROTHER.

"One, two, buckle my slipper! no, my gaiters," repeated Miss Dimple, as
Prudy laced her boots. "I wish I was a horse, then my shoes would be
nailed on, and be done with it."

"I'm so glad," said Prudy, putting on her hat, "that we can go to
housekeeping again."

They had built a shingle palace on the bank of the river. It was as
white as chalk could make it, and glared like a snowdrift out of a clump
of evergreens which were no taller than dandelions.

"Our house is shaded so much," said Prudy, "that it makes me think of a
lady with hair over her eyes."

The entrance to the little palace was through a swinging door, of white
cloth, and from the roof fluttered a small flag. There were four rooms
in the house, all of them on the ground floor. The parlor was elegantly
furnished with a braided carpet, of striped grass, a piano, whose black
and white keys were put on with coal and chalk, not to mention other
articles of luxury. The table was spread with acorn-cups and poppy
teapots, the little housekeepers being advised not to make use of their
china dishes for this establishment.

There was a very black stove in the kitchen, but the most of the
cooking was done out of doors, farther down the bank, in ovens shaped
like swallows' nests. Here were baked delicious mud cakes, tempting
currant tarts, and dainty