as much as you like, but please don't scream quite so
loud."

"Is grandma busy, Aunt 'Ria?" said Dotty; "because I'd like to see her
a moment."

The child had seized her knitting-work. Her face was flushed and eager.
She thought she felt brave enough to open her heart to her grandmother;
but when Mrs. Parlin entered the nursery, her face beaming with
kindness, Dotty was not ready.

"O, grandma," stammered she, "are there any ducks hatched? Don't you
think that hen is very slow and very lazy?"

Mrs. Parlin knew her little granddaughter had not called her out of the
kitchen merely to ask about the poultry. She seated herself on the sofa,
and drew Dotty's head into her lap.

"Please look at my knitting-work, grandma. Shall I seam that stitch or
_plain_ it?"

"You are doing very well," said Mrs. Parlin, looking at the work; "you
seamed in the right place."

Dotty cast about in her mind for something more to say.

"Grandma, you know what fireflies are? Well, if you scratch 'em will
they light a lamp? Susy says they have _fosfos_ under their wings, like
a match."

"No, Alice; with all the scratching in the world, they could not be made
to light a lamp."

Dotty sighed.

"Grandma, there are some things in this world I hate, and one is
skeetos."

"They are vexatious little creatures, it is true."

There was a long pause.

"Grandma, are skeetos idiotic? You said people without brains were
idiotic, and there isn't any place in a skeeto's head for brains."

"Dotty," said grandma, rising with a smile, "if you sent for me to ask
me such foolish questions as these, I must really beg to be excused. I
have a pudding to make for dinner."

"Grandma, O, grandma," cried Dotty, seizing her skirts, "I have
something to say, now truly; something real sober. I--I--"

"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Parlin, encouragingly.

"I--I--O, grandma, which do you think can knit the best, Prudy or I?"

"My dear Dotty," said the kind grandmother, stroking the child's hair,
"don't be afraid to tell the whole story. I know you have a trouble at
your heart. Do you think you were a naughty girl last night?"

[Illustration: DOTTY AND "THE CHARLIE BOY."--Page 113.]

Dotty's head drooped. She tried to say, "Yes, ma'am;" but, like
Dinah, "the words got caught in her teef comin' out."

"We didn't go where you thought we did, grandma," faltered she at last.
"Mr. Crossman has two orchards, and we went to just the one you wouldn't
have s'posed