," said she; "and if I do,
this is the last time we shall go strawberrying together this summer."

"O, is it?" said Dotty.

After this the two little creatures trudged on in silence till they
reached Mr. Parlin's gate. Jennie ran home in great haste as soon as she
was free from her limping companion; and Dotty entered the side-door
dripping like a naiad.

"Why, Alice Parlin!" said grandmamma, in dismay; "how came you in such a
plight? We never thought of you being out in this shower. We supposed,
of course, you would go to Mrs. Gray's, and wait till it was over."

"We were nowhere near Mr. Gray's," faltered Dotty, "nor anywhere else,
either."

"I should think you had been standing under a water-spout," said Aunt
Louise.

"Grandma, can't you put her through the wringer?" asked Prudy, laughing.

Dotty sank in a wet heap on the floor, and held up her ailing foot with
a groan.

"Why, child, barefoot?" cried Aunt Louise. Dotty said nothing, but
frowned with pain.

"It is a cruel thorn," said her good grandmother, putting on her
spectacles and surveying the wound.

"Yes, 'm," said Dotty, finding her tongue. "I almost thought 'twould go
clear through, and come out at the top of my foot."

Katie took a peep. "No, it didn't," said she; "it hided."

"There, there, poor little dear," said grandmother; "we'll put her right
to bed. Ruthie, don't you suppose you and I can carry her up stairs?"

Not a word yet about the naughtiness; but plenty of pity and soft
poultices for the wounded foot.

"She's a very queer child," thought Ruth, coming down stairs afterwards
to steep hops for some beer; "a very odd child. She has something on her
mind; but _we_ shan't be any the wiser till she gets ready to tell it."

CHAPTER VI.

MAKING POETRY.

But when Prudy had come to bed, Dotty could talk more freely.

"O, dear," said she, hiding her face in her sister's bosom; "I don't
want them to laugh at me, but I've lost my boots and my basket, and been
dripped in the rain, and got a thorn in my foot too, till it seems as if
I should die!"

"But you'll never do so again, little sister," said Prudy, who could
think of no other consolation to give.

"And lightning besides, Prudy! And she made me throw away my beautiful
picnic basket, and she kept hers, and it never hurt her a bit! Don't
you think she was just as mean! What makes grandma let me go with her,
do you s'pose? I shall grow real bad! Won't you tell her to stop