Dotty Dimple Out West Part 17

Then Susy followed with a short account of Zip, and how he had stuck himself full of burs. (He wasn't choked yet, thought Dotty; and that was a comfort.) Then a longer account of the children's picnic at Deering's Oaks.

Dotty sighed, and felt that fate had been rather cruel in depriving her of that picnic.

"But I have had something better than that," said she, brightening; "I've walked on an Ensmallment, and I have picked pecans."

But the best was to come. It was from Prudy.

"MY DEAR LITTLE DARLING SISTER: I want to see you more than tongue can tell. Norah let Susy bake some biscuits last night, because there wasn't anybody at home but mother, and grandma, and Susy, and Norah, and me. But they were as tough as _sew leather_.

Susy forgot the creamor tartar, and soda, and salt. She wasn't to blame.

"I'm so lonesome I can't wait to see my darling sister.

"Now I have some news to tell:--

"Mother is going to be married!

"You will think that is funny; but she is going to be married to the same husband she was before.

"It will be a Crystal Wedding, because it is fifteen years.

"She invites you and father to come home to it; she couldn't have it without father.

"You are going to be the bridesmaid! How queer! Mamma didn't think, the first time she was married, that ever it would be _you_ that would be her bridesmaid!

"From your dear, dear

"PRUDY."

"P.S. There will be wedding cake."

"P.S. No. 2. Johnny Eastman is going to be _bridegroom_, to stand up, if he doesn't do anything naughty before. P.P."

The look of "mouldy melancholy" disappeared from Dotty's face entirely.

"A wedding! A _crystal_ wedding! What can that be? I didn't know my father and mother would ever be married any more. Aunt 'Ria, were you and Uncle Henry ever married any more?"

"This is a sort of make-believe wedding," replied Mrs. Clifford; "that is all. And since you are to be bridesmaid, Dotty, I wonder if I cannot find a pair of white slippers for you. I remember Grace had a pair some years ago, which she has never worn."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WHITE SLIPPERS.--Page 167.]

The slippers were produced, and fitted perfectly. Dotty danced about, embraced her auntie, made a great many wild speeches, and finally found herself in her uncle's lap, kissing him and laughing aloud.

"I suppose now," said Mr. Clifford, "we cannot keep you much longer and I am sorry, for it is very pleasant to have our little cousin here to talk with us."

"I don't wan't um go 'way, I don't want um go 'way," spoke up little Katie.

"But I _must_ go to meet my papa," returned Dotty, with a business air.

"I have to be at home to get ready for the wedding."

It was very pleasant to know people liked her to stay. She ran into the kitchen, and said to Katinka,--

"O, Katinka, my papa and mamma are going to be married again! Do you know I've got to start day after to-morrow?"

"So?" replied Katinka, not very much impressed. "I'm going to a party.

I must up stairs go, and make my hairs and shut my dress. Gute Nacht."

"I'm only going to stay one more day; aren't you sorry?" said Dotty to broken-nosed Phebe, who came in from the pantry with a long face.

"Why, I reckoned you was going _to-morrow_," was Phebe's cool reply, rolling the whites of her eyes to hide a twinkle of fun. She knew Dotty expected her to say, "I am sorry;" but, though she really was sorry, she would not confess it just then, because she was an inveterate tease.

Dotty felt a little chilled. She could not look into the future and see the tomato pincushion Phebe was to give her, with the a.s.surance that "she liked her a heap; she was a right smart child, and not a bit stuck up."

The day ended with Dotty's dear, dear letter under her pillow. She was going to be very happy by and by; but just now she thought she was so homesick that she should never go to sleep. She longed to see Prudy, and hear her say, "O, you darling sister!"

Then that wedding! Those white slippers!

How they did all miss her at home! Such dear friends as she had, and such beautiful things as were going to happen!

"But they are so good to me here! I've behaved so well they love me dearly. If I go home, I can't stay here and have good times. I should be happy if I was at my mother's house and out West too! Every time I'm glad, then there's something else to make me sorry."

So, between a smile and a tear, Dotty Dimple pa.s.sed into the beautiful land of dreams; and the moon shone on a little face with a frown between the eyes and a dimple dancing in each cheek.

What happened to her on her way home and afterward will be told in the story of Dotty Dimple at Play.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE FOLKS" BOOKS.]

"The auth.o.r.ess of THE LITTLE PRUDY STORIES would be elected Aunty-laureate if the children had an opportunity, for the wonderful books she writes for their amus.e.m.e.nt. She is the d.i.c.kens of the nursery, and we do not hesitate to say develops the rarest sort of genius in the specialty of depicting smart little children."--_Hartford Post_.

_LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON_.

COPYRIGHT, 1834, BY LEE & SHEPARD.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Portrait of Sophie May (Rebecca Sophia Clarke)]

The children will not be left without healthful entertainment and kindly instruction so long as SOPHIE MAY (Miss Rebecca S. Clarke) lives and wields her graceful pen in their behalf. MISS CLARKE has made a close and loving study of childhood, and she is almost idolized by the crowd of 'nephews and nieces' who claim her as aunt.

Nothing to us can ever be quite so delightfully charming as were the 'Dotty Dimple' and the 'Little Prudy' books to our youthful imaginations, but we have no doubt the little folks of to-day will find the story of 'Flaxie Frizzle' and her young friends just as fascinating.

There is a sprightliness about all of MISS CLARKE'S books that attracts the young, and their purity, their absolute _cleanliness_, renders them invaluable in the eyes of parents and all who are interested in the welfare of children."--_Morning Star_.

"Genius comes in with 'Little Prudy.' Compared with her, all other book-children are cold creations of literature; she alone is the real thing. All the quaintness of children, its originality, its tenderness and its teasing, is infinite uncommon drollery, the serious earnestness of its fun, the fun of its seriousness, the naturalness of its plays, and the delicious oddity of its progress, all these united for dear Little Prudy to embody them."--_North American Review_.