"'Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,And the rocks melt wi' the sun.'"
"'Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,And the rocks melt wi' the sun.'"
They all sat chatting around the parlor fire,—Uncle Augustus always would have an open fire,—when Dotty slipped out unobserved, and went round the house hunting for the lost rings. She went first to auntie's chamber, and looked in the blue pocket; but it was empty. The wardrobe and closet had been restored to perfect order, and the jewel cabinet was not to be seen. Then she went slowly along to the housekeeper's room, and knocked, with her heart in her mouth.
"How do you do, Mrs. Fixfax? Isn't it nice to get that old stove out? I thought you'd let me come in and look to see if I've—I've left anything."
"Certainly, dear. What have you lost?" Mrs. Fixfax went on with her reading, and did not seem to hear Dotty's muttered answer about "running round so when Fly was sick. Didn't know but she'd put—wasn't sure.—Guessed not."
"Why, you see," said Dotty, to herself, as she left the room with downcast eyes, "it's no use to hunt there. Cupboard's gone, stove's gone. Nothing in the bathroom but soap and towels. I believe auntie's cat has swallowed those rings."
She went back to Mrs. Allen's room, turned the gas higher, and looked mournfully at herself in the glass.
"Shall I tell her the truth, that they're gone, and I lost them? Would my dear Aunt Madge go and take all father's money away? Mother says we must do what is right, and God will take care of the rest."
Just then Fly entered, followed by Mrs. Allen.
"You here, Dotty? I see my chamber is in excellent order. Let me look at the drawers. What? My jewel cabinet? Didn't I lock that in the safe? All right, no doubt, but I'll examine it."
She wheeled up a little easy-chair, sat down, and poured the jewels into her lap. What were Dotty's feelings as she stood there looking on? The gas-light seemed to turn the glittering diamonds into points of flame; but Dotty could not help gazing.
Why, what was that? Did her eyes deceive her? That ring with glass raspberry seeds! And, O, was it possible? The one like a drop of blood with ice frozen over it! Both there.
She learned afterwards that Mrs. Fixfax had found the rings in the bottom of the ivory bathing-tub, where Fly had had her "turkey wash."
Hark! Auntie was counting: "One, two, three, four. All safe. Not that I supposed any one would meddle with my cabinet, of course."
"Auntie," burst forth Dotty, her face tingling with shame, "Idid. I wore two of those rings, and lost 'em off my thumbs. I don't see how they ever came back in that cabinet, for the only thing I know certain true is, I never put 'em there. O, auntie, if I had't found 'em, I was 'most afraid to tell you about it, because my father's so poor."
"Child, child, you wouldn't have deceived me? I could bear anything better than that. And, Dotty, I don't believe it of you. You would have told the truth."
"Yes, auntie, I do guess I should. It's better to eat fried pork than to act out a lie." What the truth had to do with eating fried pork, Aunt Madge could not imagine; but she assured Dotty she fully believed her when she promised not to meddle in future; and the child bounded down stairs with a heart like a bubble.
Fly had come up to go to bed.
"I've found sumpin," cried she, peeping into a basket behind the door. "It's got eyes, and I know it's a doggie."
"You little rogue! I didn't mean you should see that dog to-night."
"O, it's no matter 'bout me. IfDotty'dseen it, she'd been'spectin'it!"
The quick-witted child knew just as well then as she did next morning, that the dog—a King Charles spaniel—was intended for her. Mrs. Allen was so amused that she could scarcely sing Fly's by-low hymn:—-
"Sleep, little one, like a lamb in the fold.Shut from the tempest, safe from the cold;Sleep, little one, like a star in the sky,Wrapped in a cloud, while the storm-wind sweeps by."
"Sleep, little one, like a lamb in the fold.Shut from the tempest, safe from the cold;Sleep, little one, like a star in the sky,Wrapped in a cloud, while the storm-wind sweeps by."
It was quite as hard to keep a grave face when Fly added to her evening prayer the petition,—
"God f'give me speakin' a naughty word'fore Miss Perdigoff."
"What naughty word, darling?"
"Hunkydory," replied Fly, with a deep sense of guilt. Not that she thought it wrong to use a coarse word, only wrong to use it "'fore Miss Perdigoff."
Aunt Madge entered into a short explanation of the true nature of right and wrong; but her words were thrown away, for that "curly dog" filled every nook and corner of Fly's little mind.
"Folded eyes see brighter colorsThan the open ever do."
"Folded eyes see brighter colorsThan the open ever do."
It stormed next day; but as "brooks don't mind the weather," Maria and her mother appeared again. When Aunt Madge went down to see them, Maria was sitting near the dining-room door, the scarlet spots of excitement coming and going in her cheeks. She could think of nothing but the wonderful, unknown doctor, who would know in one moment whether she could ever see or not.
"We hadn't ought to have come in this snow-storm, ma'am," said Mrs. Brooks; "but poor Maria, she couldn't be denied. She said she must come, whether or no. But of course we don't hold you to your promise, ma'am, and I hope you don't think we're that sort of folks."
While Mrs. Brooks was talking, with her nose moving up and down, Maria's face was turned towards Mrs. Allen, her quick ears eager to catch the first sound of her voice. What if the word should be No? But Aunt Madge was never known to break a child's heart.
"Who minds a snow-storm?" said she, gayly. "I love it as well as any snow-bird. I am very sorry you were disappointed the other day. I'll have my wraps on in two minutes."
The children watched from the bay-window as John came round with the carriage, and the three ladies got in.
"She's a rare one," remarked Horace, with a sweep of his thumb.
"Who? Maria?"
"No, Dot; the one in front; the handsomest woman in the city of New York. Tell you what, 'tisn't everybody would go round and look up the poor the way she does; and she rich as mud, too."
"Why, Horace, that's the very reason she ought to do it. What would be the use of her being rich if she didn't?"
"Poh!" said Horace, with a look of unspeakable wisdom. "Much as you know, Prue. Rich people are the stingiest in the world. The fact is, the more you have, the more you don't give away."
"O, what a story!" said Dotty. "The more I have, the more I do—I mean Ishall, if I ever get my meeting-house full."
Horace laughed heartily.
"What'd I say now, Horace Clifford?"
"I was only thinking, Dot, that's what's the matter with everybody; they're waiting to get their meeting-houses full."
Dotty did not understand the remark, but thought it safe to pout.
"I can't help thinking about that poor Maria," said Prudy. "Do you suppose, Horace, the doctor can help her?"
"Yes, I presume he can. It will probably take him about five minutes," replied Master Horace, as decidedly as if he had studied medicine all his days. "But do you suppose he'll do it for nothing? Not if he knows it. He'll see the carriage, and find out auntie has money; and then won't he make her pay over? Just the way with 'em, Prue. He's one of these doctors that's rolling in gold."
"Rollin' in gold," repeated Fly, thinking how hard that must be for him, and how it would hurt.
But Horace was quite mistaken. The doctor did not say one word about money. He asked Mrs. Brooks to tell him just how and when Maria had begun to grow blind. And though she made a tedious story of it, he listened patiently till she said,—
"Now, doctor, I am poor, and we've been unfortunate, and I don't know as I shall be able to pay you, and I—"
"No matter for that, my good woman. I shan't charge you one penny. Don't take up my time talking about money. It's my business to talk about eyes. Lead the child to the window."
The scarlet spots in Maria's cheeks faded, leaving her very pale. She held her breath. Would the doctor ever stop pulling open her eyelids? It was not half a minute, though. Then he spoke:—
"Madam, are you willing to do exactly as I say? Can you both be patient? If so, I have hope of this child."
Maria swayed forward at these words, and Mrs. Allen caught her in her arms. Mrs. Brooks ran around in a maze, crying, "We've killed her! we've killed her!" and wildly took up a case of instruments, to do, she knew not what; but the doctor stopped her, and dashed a little water in Maria's face.
When the dear little girl came out of her swoon, she was murmuring to herself,—
"I thought God would be willing! I thought God would be willing!"
She did not know any one heard her. Mrs. Brooks rushed up to her.
"You are the best man alive, Maria," said she.
Then she turned to the doctor, calling him "my dear little girl," and might have kissed him if he had not laughed.
"Why, I beg your pardon, sir," cried she, blushing. "I don't believe I know what I am about."
"I don't believe you do, either, so I'll give my message to this other lady. I want the little girl to come again to-morrow without fail. It is well I saw her so soon. A few weeks longer, and she could not have been helped."
"You don't say so, doctor! And I never thought of coming. I shouldn't have stirred a step if it hadn't been for this good, kind Mrs. Allen. O, what an amazing world this is!"
"And you know, Mrs. Brooks," returned Aunt Madge, "I should never have heard of you if my baby niece hadn't run away. As you say, it is an amazing world!"
"And there's One above who rules it," said the doctor, as he bowed them out.
"Yes, there's One above who rules it," thought happy Maria, riding home in the carriage. "If I've asked Him once, I've asked Him five thousand times, and somehow I knew He'd attend to it after a while."
"O, what did the doctor say to her? What did he do?" cried the children, the moment their aunt appeared in the parlor.
"He says he can cure her if she will only be patient."
Prudy screamed for joy.
"O, dear! why didn't he cure her right off?" cried Dotty. "We s'posed she was seeing like everything."
"Why, child, do you expect things are going to be done by steam?" said Horace, forgetting he had calculated it would take about five minutes.
"Well, if he didn't had no steam, he could 'a' tookened the sidders, and picked 'em open," sniffed Fly, who had great contempt for slow people.
"Ah, little Hopelover," laughed auntie, "you're like us grown folks all the world over, scolding about what you don't understand."
A few more days were spent in uninterrupted happiness. Fly declared "Santa Clausisa darlin'," when she received the King Charles spaniel, which, by the way, had not been purchased without the full consent of Horace, who was even willing, for his little sister's sake, to take him home in the cars.
The youth, in his turn, was made happy by the gift of a silver-mounted rifle; while Prudy rejoiced in a rosewood writing desk, and Dotty in a gold pen.
"All's well that ends well." Uncle Augustus was at home, and that in itself was as good as most fairy stories. Fly had the kindness to "stay found" for the rest of the visit, and did not even take another cold. Dotty was unmixed sweetness. Maria came every day with such a beaming face that it was delightful to see her.
Mrs. Pragoff asked for all their photographs, and gave the Parlins some Polish mittens to carry home to their mother.
"I s'pose you know," said Dotty, privately to Prudy, "there's not another girl at my school been to New York, and treated with such attention; but O, I tell you, I shan't be proud. I shall always love Tate Penny just the same."
When the day came to separate, it went hard with them all.
"Just as we got to having a good time," said Dotty, her face in a hard knot.
"But we shall all meet next summer," said Prudy, hopefully.
"I don't want to wait," moaned Fly, going into her pocket-hangfiss—all but her back hair and the rest of her body.
I have a great mind to let her stay there till we come to the next book, which is,Aunt Madge's Story, told by herself.
SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS BOOKS.
"The authoress ofThe Little Prudy Storieswould be elected Aunty-laureate if the children had an opportunity, for the wonderful books she writes for their amusement. She is the Dickens 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.
Sophie May
"The children will not be left without healthful entertainment and kindly instruction so long asSophie May(Miss Rebecca S. Clarke) lives and wields her graceful pen in their behalf. MissClarkehas 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 imagination, 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 MissClarke'sbooks that attracts the young, and their purity, their absolutecleanliness, 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, its 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.
LITTLE PRUDY STORIES BY SOPHIE MAY ILLUSTRATED SIX VOLUMES
Illustrated, Comprising:—
LITTLE PRUDY.LITTLE PRUDY'S SISTER SUSIE.LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE.LITTLE PRUDY'S COUSIN GRACE.LITTLE PRUDY'S STORY BOOK.LITTLE PRUDY'S DOTTY DIMPLE.
In neat box. Price 75 cents per volume.
"I have been wanting to say a word about a book for children, perfect of its kind—I meanLittle Prudy. It seems to me the greatest book of the season for children. The authoress has a genius for story-telling. Prudy's letter to Mr. 'Gustus Somebody must be genuine; if an invention, it shows a genius akin to that of the great masters. It is a positive kindness to the little ones to remind their parents that there is such a book asLittle Prudy."—Springfield Republican.
"Every little girl and boy who has made the acquaintance of that funny 'Little Prudy' will be eager to read this book, In which she figures quite as largely as her bigger sister, though the joys and troubles of poor Susie make a very interesting story."—Portland Transcript.
"Certainly one of the most cunning, natural, and witty little books we ever read."—Hartford Press.
"These are such as none butSophie Maycan write, and we know not where to look for two more choice and beautiful volumes—Susiefor girls andHoracefor boys. They are not only amusing and wonderfully entertaining, but teach most effective lessons of patience, kindness, and truthfulness. Our readers will find a good deal in them about Prudy, for so many things are always happening to her that the author finds It impossible to keep her out."
Specimen of "Little Prudy" cuts"There were a few articles to be ironed for the bride; and Prudy had a mind to try the Jewish flatirons; so, with Barbara's leave, she smoothed out some handkerchiefs on a chair."
SPECIMEN OF "LITTLE PRUDY" CUTS.
"This story book is a great favorite with the little folks, for it contains just such stories as they like to hear their aunt, and older sister tell; and learn them by heart and tell them over to one another as they set out the best infant tea-set, or piece a baby-quilt, or dress dolls, or roll marbles. A book to put on the book-shelf in the play-room where Susie and Prudy, Captain Horace, Cousin Grace, and all the rest of the 'Little Prudy' folks are kept."—Vermont Record.
"An exquisite picture of little-girl life at school and at home, and gives an entertaining account of a secret society which originated in the fertile brain of Grace, passed some comical resolutions at first, but was finally converted into a Soldier's Aid Society. Full of life, and fire, and good advice; the latter sugar-coated, of course, to suit the taste of little folks."—Press.
"Dotty Dimple is the plague of Prudy's life, and yet she loves her dearly. Both are rare articles in juvenile literature, as real as Eva and Topsy of 'Uncle Tom' fame. Witty and wise, full of sport and study, sometimes mixing the two in a confusing way, they run bubbling through many volumes, and make everybody wish they could never grow up or change, they are so bright and cute."
LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE.LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE.
"You wide-awake little boys, who make whistles of willow, and go fishing and training,—Horace is very much like you, I suppose. He is by no means perfect, but he is brave and kind, and scorns a lie, I hope you and he will shake hands and be friends."
SPECIMEN OF ILLUSTRATIONS TO PRUDY BOOKS.
DOTTY AT PLAY.
Six Volumes. Illustrated. Comprising:—
DOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER'S.DOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST.DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME.DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY.DOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL.DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY.
In a neat box. Price 75 cents per volume.
DOTTY GOING WESTDOTTY GOING WEST
"'Please stop,' said Dotty faintly, and the boy came to her, elbowing. 'I want some of that pop-corn so much! I could buy it if you'd hold this baby till I put my hand in my pocket.' The youth laughed, but for the sake of 'making a trade' set down his basket and took the 'enfant terrible.' There was an instant attack upon his hair, which was so long and straggling as to prove an easy prey to the enemy."
SPECIMEN OF "DOTTY DIMPLE" ILLUSTRATIONS
"Sophie May'sexcellent pen has perhaps never written anything more pleasing to children, especially little girls, thanDotty Dimple. If the little reader who follows Dotty through these dozen chapters,—from her visit to her grandmother to the swing under the trees,—he or she will say: 'It has been a treat to read about Dotty Dimple, she's so cunning.'"—Herald of Gospel Liberty.
"Dotty's trip was jolly. In the cars where she saw so many people that she thought there'd be nobody left in any of the houses, she offers to hold somebody's baby, and when it begins to cry she stuffs pop-corn into its month, nearly choking it to death. Afterwards, in pulling a man's hair, she is horrified at seeing his wig come off, and gasps out 'O dear, dear, dear, I didn't know your hair was so tender.' Altogether, she is the cunningist chick that ever lived."—Oxford Press.
"This little book is as full of spice as any of its predecessors and well sustains the author's reputation as the very cleverest of all write of this species of children's books. Were there any doubt on this point, the matter might be easily tested by inquiry in half the households in the city, where the book is being revelled over."—Boston Home Journal.
Dotty Dimple
"As Dotty seized two locks of the Major's hair, one in each hand, and pulled them both as if she meant to draw them out by the roots, out they came! Yes, entirely out; and more than that, all the rest of his hair came too. His head was left as smooth as an apple. You see how it was. He wore a wig, and just for play had slyly unfastened it, and allowed Miss Dotty to pull it off. The perfect despair of her little face amused him vastly, but he did not smile; he looked very severe. 'See what you have done,' said he. Major Laydie's entire head of hair lay at her feet, as brown and wavy as ever it was. Dotty looked at it with horror. The idea of scalping a man."
SPECIMEN OF "DOTTY DIMPLE" ILLUSTRATIONS.
"Miss Dotty is a peremptory little body, with a great deal of human nature in her, who wins our hearts by her comic speeches and funny ways. She complains of beingbewitchedby people, and the wind 'blows her out,' and she thinks if her comrade dies in the snow-storm she will be 'dreadfully 'shamed of it,' and has rather a lively time, with all her trials in going to school."—New York Citizen.
"'Charming Dotty Dimple' as she is so universally styled, has become decidedly a favorite with young and old, who are alike pleased with her funny sayings and doings.—Dotty at Playwill be found very attractive, and the children, especially the girls, will be delighted with her adventures."—Boston Express.
DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY.
"This is the final volume of theDotty Dimple Series. It relates how little Flyaway provisioned herself with cookies and spectacles and got lost on a little hill while seeking to mount to heaven, and what a precious alarm there was until she was found, and the subsequent joy at her recovery, with lots of quaint speeches and funny incidents."—North American.
"A Little Red Riding-Hoodish story, sprightly and takingly told."—American Farmer.
LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES
Six Volumes. Illustrated. Comprising:—
LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY.PRUDY KEEPING HOUSE.AUNT MADGE'S STORY.LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.LITTLE GRANDFATHER.MISS THISTLEDOWN.
Price 75 cents per volume.
"This is a book for the little ones of the nursery or play-room. It introduces all the old favorites of the Prudy and Dotty books with new characters and funny incidents. It is a charming book, wholesome and sweet in every respect, and cannot fail to interest children under twelve years of age."—Christian Register.
"How she kept it, why she kept it, and what a good time she had playing cook, and washer-woman, and ironer, is told as onlySophie Maycan tell stories. All the funny sayings and doings of the queerest and cunningest little women ever tucked away in the covers of a book will please little folks and grown people alike."—Press.
"Tells of a little waif of a girl, who gets into every conceivable kind of scrape and out again with lightning rapidity, through the whole pretty little book. How she nearly drowns her bosom friend, and afterwards saves her by a very remarkable display of little-girl courage. How she gets left by a train of cars, and loses her kitten and finds it again, and is presented with a baby sister 'come down from heaven,' with lots of smart and funny sayings."—Boston Traveller.
SPECIMEN CUT TO "LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES."PRUDY KEEPING HOUSE.
"'Oh, what a fascinating creature,' said the Man in the Moon, making an eye-glass with his thumb and fore-finger, and gazing at the lady boarder. 'Are you a widow, mem?'"
SPECIMEN CUT TO "LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES."
"Grandmother Parlen when a little girl is the subject. Of course that was ever so long ago, when there were no lucifer matches, and steel and tinder were used to light fires; when soda and saleratus had never been heard of, but people made their pearl ash by soaking burnt crackers in water; when the dressmaker and the tailor and the shoemaker went from house to house twice a year to make the dresses and coats of the family."—Transcript.
"The story of Grandfather Parlen's little boy life, of the days of knee breeches and cocked hats, full of odd incidents, queer and quaint sayings, and the customs of 'ye olden times.' These stories ofSophie May'sare so charmingly written that older folks may well amuse themselves by reading them. The same warm sympathy with childhood, the earnest naturalness, the novel charm of the preceding volumes will be found in this."—Christian Messenger.
"One of the queerest of the Prudy family. Read the chapter heads and you will see just how much fun there must be in it: 'Fly's Heart,' 'Taking a Nap,' 'Going to the Fair,' 'The Dimple Dot,' 'The Hole in the Home,' 'The Little Bachelor,' 'Fly's Bluebeard,' 'Playing Mamma,' 'Butter Spots,' 'Polly's Secret,' 'The Snow Man,' 'The Owl and the Humming-Bird,' 'Talks of Hunting Deer,' and 'The Parlen Patchwork.'"