, a fierce-looking man, with a long horse-whip
in his hand, came and peeped in at the barn door, and screamed to Dotty
in a hoarse voice that "Ruth Dillon wanted her right off, and none of
her dilly-dallying."

And then, on going into the house, what should she learn but that this
man had come to take Ruth home, because her mother was sick. The
children--so Ruth said--must stay with Polly and be little ladies.

O, dear, it was as lonesome as a line-storm, after lively Ruth had gone
away. Dotty began to think she liked her brisk little scoldings, after
all.

"Does you feel so bad?" said little Flyaway, gazing on her sober cousin
with pity; "your mouth looks just this way;" and, putting up both hands,
she drew down her own little lips at the corners.

"Yes, I feel bad," said Dotty. "You needn't talk to me; where's your
orange?"

"I squoze it," replied Flyaway; "and falled it down my froat. But I
didn't had enough. If you pees, um, give me some more."

"Why, what an idea!" said Dotty, laughing.

But when she began to divide her own orange into sections, Katie looked
on expectantly, knowing she should have a share. Dotty ate two quarters,
gave one to Katie, and reserved the fourth for Polly. She longed to eat
this last morsel herself, but Polly had praised her once for giving away
some toys, and she wished to hear her say again, "Why, what a generous
little girl!"

But when she smilingly offered the bite, what was her surprise to hear
Polly say in an indifferent tone,--

"Well, well, child, you needn't have saved such a tiny piece for me; it
doesn't amount to anything!"

At the same time she ate the whole at a mouthful. Dotty felt very much
irritated. Did Miss Polly think oranges grew on bushes? What was the use
to be generous if people wouldn't say "thank you?"

"I don't feel much better than I did when I gave the beggar my money.
But I didn't do my 'alms before men' this time, though," said she,
looking at her little fat arms and wondering what her grandmother meant
by talking of her giving _them_ away.

"I s'pose it's my _fingers_ that grow on the ends of my arms, and that's
what I give with," she concluded.

On the whole she was passing a dismal day. She had been told that she
must not go away; and it happened that nobody came, not even Jennie
Vance.

"If Prudy had been left alone, all the girls in town would have come to
see her," thought the forlorn Miss Dimple, putting a string round one of
her fro