se to
keep out flies. The unhappy child threw herself, out of breath, upon the
floor of this closet, her heart beating high with rage and shame.

CHAPTER XI.

JOHNNY'S REVENGE.

Dotty's cross behavior had entirely spoiled the pleasure of the evening
for her two sisters. They felt, as they had felt years before, when they
saw her, a mere baby, perched upon the wood-box, with her hands and feet
tied--they felt that it was a family disgrace.

All these little boys and girls, who had never known before what Dotty's
temper was, knew all about it now; they would talk of it to one another;
they would go home and tell of it, and remember it forever and ever.

"And, O dear!" thought Susy, "they won't know she was born so, and
can't help it."

For that this was the case, Susy firmly believed.

"I've got it written in my journal," thought Prudy, "how she promised to
swallow it down; but Dotty isn't well, and that's the reason she can't
remember."

Both the sisters knew that Dotty had left the parlors, and they were
very glad of it. They did not attempt to follow her. They did not know
precisely where she had gone, but presumed she was pouting somewhere.
That there could be danger of any sort for the poor child in that house
they never dreamed. Neither did Mr. or Mrs. Parlin dream it, or they
would have walked home a little faster from their visit to the white
tents on Green Street.

The games went on as usual, and were quite as amusing to the guests as
if they had not been very poor ones indeed. Susy and Prudy need not have
feared that the little people would not have a good time; the "surprise
party" was a perfect success, and Dotty's ill-humor made no one unhappy
but her sensitive sisters. Meanwhile the wretched child was lying on the
pantry floor, thinking very confused thoughts.

"I wish I was dead. No I don't. I'm too wicked. But I wasn't any
wickeder 'n that girl. She said Susy Parlin had a bad sister. What made
her say that? She knew I'd hear. I'm glad I shook her. No, I'm sorry. It
was murder--the Bible says so. Johnny murdered too--murdered me. He
called me a 'cross party.' That was a story. Johnny's wickeder 'n ever
_I_ was.

"Prudy thought I ought to be a baby. Percy thought so. He said, 'I
devise you to let that child alone.' I'm going to let _him_ alone! All
the time! Did I want to fall off that yardstick, right into the
tolly-blow?

"There's Prudy: she can be good; it doesn't hurt her. It hurt