sighed Dotty, rubbing the floss out of her eyes. "Such hair!
I should think _you_ wore a wig! I'm sleepy; can't you let me be?"

"You mus' wake up, Dottee! _I_ love to wake up; I can do it velly easy."

Dotty, losing her patience, moved forward, pushing Katie towards the
edge of the bed.

"O, ho! what a little bedstick! I'll yole out!"

"I wish you would, Flyaway Clifford!"

No sooner said than done. Off rolled Flyaway, but alighted on her feet.

"O, my shole," cried she, scrambling in again; "I fell down backboards.
O, ho!"

Such good nature was not to be resisted. Sleepy Dotty waked up and smiled
in spite of herself; and next minute her persecutor was skipping down
stairs.

"Glad she's gone. Now I'll put on my pretty morning dress; Aunt 'Ria
hung it up in the closet. I'm going to be a little lady all the time I'm
out West, and not jump off of things and tear my clothes."

Then Dotty's mind strayed to a very different subject.

"It is so queer God is in this country just the same as He is in the
State of Maine! I said my prayers to Him before I started, and there He
was and heard; and now He's here and hears too; I don't see how. You
can't think without He sees your thoughts."

Dotty, brushing her hair, looked in the glass so intently that she did
not observe her Aunt Maria, who had quietly entered the room. Mrs.
Clifford was a wise woman, but she could not look into her niece's
heart. She thought Dotty was admiring her own beauty in the mirror,
whereas the child was not thinking of it at all.

What Mr. Beecher once said of little folks is very true:--

"Ah, well, there is a world of things in children's minds that grown-up
people do not understand, though they too once were young."

Mrs. Clifford went up to Dotty and kissed her. Then the little girl was
startled from her musings, and passing down stairs with her hand in Mrs.
Clifford's, thought she should be perfectly happy if dear Prudy were
only on the other side of her.

Everything she saw that was new or strange she had to stop and admire,
thinking it was an article that could only belong out West.

"O, auntie, what is this queer little thing with doors?"

"Grace's cabinet, dear."

"Her _cabijen_," exclaimed Flyaway, darting in from the next room.

"Good morning, Dotty Dimple," said Horace: "did my Guinea pig wake you?
I lost him out. What a noise he made! I wish he was in Guinea, where he
came from."

Dotty had never seen a Guinea pig. It