ten to the conversation going
on between his little daughter and her friend. They commenced by talking
about Zip. Dotty said he knew as much as a boy.

"I did think once he was my brother. And now I'm glad I didn't have a
real brother; for if he _had_ been, p'rhaps he'd have burned up our
house with a cracker."

"So you think little girls are nicer than little boys?"

"O, yes, sir; don't you?"

Dotty spoke as if there could be no doubt about it.

"I like good little girls," said Major Lazelle, "such as can ride a
whole day in the cars without growing cross."

This compliment gratified Dotty. She felt that she deserved it, for she
had kept her temper admirably ever since she left home.

"I am sure you will grow up, one of these days, to be a very good
woman," continued Major Lazelle, looking with an admiring smile at the
graceful little girl seated on his knee. "You tell me you have never
been at school. I hope you do not mean to frolic all your life? What
were little girls made for, do you think?"

Dotty reflected a moment.

"What are little girls made for, sir? Why, they are made to play,
'cause they can't play when they grow to be ladies."

The major laughed.

"Pretty well said! You're rather too shrewd for such an 'old mustache'
as I. So little girls are made to play? Then suppose we two have a game.
Let us play chip-chop."

Dotty was becoming sleepy, but aroused herself, and patted her little
soft hands as hard as she could, tossing them hither and thither,
sometimes hitting her companion's thumb, sometimes his little finger.
Major Lazelle laughed, and then she laughed too; for when he tried to
strike her hands, he said it was like aiming at a pair of rose-leaves
fluttering in the air.

The chip-chop was a complete failure; but it had set them both in great
glee. If truth be told, they became excessively rude.

"Now, sir," said Dotty, as they ran across the room, playing a game of
romps, "if you do catch me again, I'll--O, dear, I don't know what I'll
do!"

Mr. Parlin looked up from his letter a little annoyed, for the floor was
shaking so that he could scarcely write.

"Do not be rude, my daughter," said he, though he knew very well the
major was really the one to be chided.

But his warning came a minute too late. Major Lazelle had caught Dotty,
and she had thrown up both hands to clutch at his hair. She meant to
give it one desperate pulling; she did not care if she hurt him a
little; she e