Little Prudy's Dotty Dimple Part 12

"I don' know. Yes: why?"

"'Cause I shouldn't think you would! I 'spise you!"

Having freed her mind, Dotty walked on with Zip, only turning back once, to exclaim,--

"There, Abby, now you'll have to give up!"

Abby, naughty girl, ate her cake in secret, staining her white ap.r.o.n with the jelly, while little Miss Dimple trudged on, thinking it very strange Abby should be so long finding that book.

Perhaps for the reason that she was rather out of sorts, and thinking about Abby rather than about the road, she missed her way, and soon found herself in a narrow lane she had never seen before.

Zip looked rather uneasy, but followed close by her side. Dotty walked on and on, till the track had faded quite away. This was not the road to aunt Martha's. Why didn't Abby come?

Dotty, too proud to cry, too angry to look back, wandered till she came to the edge of the Parlin woods. Here was a little creek, tumbling over some small gray rocks; the same "creek" where Horace had sometimes gone fishing.

"True as you live," said Dotty to herself, "here's a teenty-tonty river."

There was no way of crossing the creek, and the child felt as if she had come to the very end of the world. Her courage began to fail.

"Dotty Dimple," said she, stamping her foot, "don't you cry! If you do cry, Dotty Dimple, I'll shut you up in the closet."

But, in spite of these brave words, the unhappy child felt two or three tears raining down her cheeks. She now seated herself on the gra.s.s, and screamed for Abby.

"When she comes," thought Dotty, "I'll tell her she's 'shamed herself!"

At first it seemed as if Abby were answering her; but the sound proved to be only the echo of Dotty's own voice. O, she might scream all the afternoon, and Abby wouldn't try to hear! O, dear; before anybody would come, a bear, or a wolf, or a whale might rush right out of the woods and eat her up! Then how Abby would cry! Abby's mother would whip her with a big stick, and say, "there, now; what made you go behind the trees, and let that little Parlin girl lose herself, and get ate up! I don't think you're very polite, you naughty girl!"--O, how everybody would cry!

But what was that little funny thing on the water? Forgetting her sudden fear of bears and whales, a fear which Abby herself had put into her little head, Dotty gazed at the "funny thing." Could it be a little truly sailboat? Yes, it certainly was. How it got into the creek Dotty never stopped to think; the question was, how could she get it out?

She blew it with her breath, but it only floated farther away. She waited, hoping it would turn about, and come towards her. She threw sticks at it, but in vain. The boys, who had set it sailing had gone into the woods for raspberries, would have laughed to see her efforts.

Presently she took off her hat, held it by one string, and flung it in, as if it had been a fishing-net. It was all of no use; the boat acted as if it were alive, and did not choose to be caught.

Dotty had forgotten all about Abby and the visit to aunt Martha's.

"I know what I'll do," thought she, winking very fast. "I'll catch that boat; I will!"

When Dotty had made up her mind, she never stopped for trifles. She drew off her stockings and gaiters, and stepped into the creek. Boys waded in the water, why couldn't she? There was nothing to bite her! She wasn't afraid!

She had supposed the water would only cover her feet, but she found herself sadly mistaken. The creek was remarkably deep, and, more than that, the bottom was so soft that she sank down, down, at every step.

Poor child! It was hard enough to get lost; it was harder still to be drowned!

"O, papa!" she screamed; "O, mamma! O, Prudy! can't you come? I don't want to drown, and not have _you_ drown, Prudy. Can't you come, somebody come!"

But there were no human ears near enough to hear her piteous cries. She must have drowned--there is no doubt of it--if Zip had not been close at hand. The moment he saw her sinking, he gave a low bark and swam after her.

Before he could reach the unfortunate child the water was up to her waist, and she was wringing her little helpless hands, and saying, "Now I lay me down to sleep!"

Faithful old Zip lost not a moment, but seized her skirts and dragged her to the bank, laying her on the ground as tenderly as her own mother could have done.

Now you see why it is that G.o.d had put it into Zip's loving heart to "want to come with his little sister."

Abner, who arrived a few minutes later, in order to cut some young birches for his fence, said,--

"Wasn't it lucky, that that dog _happened_ to be right on the spot? And lucky, too, that I _happened_ along in the nick of time, to carry the poor little girl home in my arms?"

But the truth is, in this world which our Heavenly Father watches over, nothing ever comes by chance, and events do not _happen_.

Abby shed many bitter tears, but they were not so much tears of sorrow for her sin, as of shame for being found out. Such weeping does no good.

Indeed I am afraid it only hardened Abby's heart.

But the day ended gloriously for Dotty. She was handed about to be kissed by everybody, and was, after all, allowed to sit up till nine o'clock, and actually ate a "bubbled cream," sitting as close as she could beside Colonel Allen's elbow.

CHAPTER X.

DR. PRUDY.

The next day Dotty had a severe cold, and her mother, fearing the croup, did not allow her to go out of doors. This was hard for the child. She felt very restless, because she had to give up "housekeeping" with Prudy, a very fascinating game, which could only be played on the river-bank. She looked out of the kitchen window, and saw some carpenters shingling the barn.

"O, hum!" she murmured, "I wish grandpa wouldn't mend his barn!"

A white mist was creeping slowly over the river and the distant hills.

"There, now," she sighed, "I wish the earth wouldn't _breave_ so hard!"

Then she went into the parlor, like a little gray cloud.

"O, dear; I don't like this house, 'cause it's got a top to it! Wish I was somewhere else!"

"Poor child," said Colonel Allen, who was seated on the sofa, looking out of the bay-window upon the garden; "do you love home better than this beautiful spot?"

"No," replied the little one, shaking her head. "I don't love my home, 'cause I live there; I don't love nothin'. O, hum, suz!"

Then Dotty wandered into the nursery, and stood all alone, leaning against the lounge.

"I shouldn't think my mother'd let me be so cross," mused she.

She did not cry, for she had learned very young that crying is of no use; and it may be, too, that she had only a small fountain of tears back of her eyes. Prudy, entering the nursery in eager haste, for her "bean-bags," was touched at sight of her sister's sad face.

"There, now, I'll put back my bean-bags, and try to make her happy,"

said Prudy to herself. "That will be following the Golden Rule; for it's doing unto Dotty as I want Susy to do unto me, when _I'm_ sick."

She went quietly up to Dotty, who still stood leaning gloomily against the lounge. The child turned around with a sudden smile. It cheered her to see Prudy's sweet face, which was always sunny with a halo of happy thoughts.

"Are you real sick, though, Dotty Dimple?"