DOTTY'S VERSES.
By the time Alice Parlin was three years old she could prattle like a
bobolink, and thought herself quite as old and wise as either of her
sisters. Every Sunday morning it made her very wretched to see Susy and
Prudy set out, with bright faces, for Sabbath school!
"Mayn't me go, too?" said she, plaintively. "Me's got the coop; _must_
go to Sabber school!"
"O," replied Prudy, snatching a kiss from her pouting lips, "if you've
got the croup you certainly can't go."
Dotty shook her curls. "Coop's went off now. Dotty'll go, all o' _you_."
"O, no, little sister; you'll stay at home and look at your pictures.
That's the way _I_ did when I was little."
"You mustn't _contraspute_," cried Dotty, shaking her elbows. "I _is_
goin' to Sabber school." Then suddenly showing her dimples, she added
with a bright smile, "'Cause I's your comfort, you know, Prudy, your
darlin', precious little comfort; isn't I, Prudy?"
"Dear me," thought tender Prudy, "the poor little thing always has to
stay at home. I'll ask mother to let her go with me next time. It is
right for me to ask, for I'm sure I don't _want_ her to go; so it isn't
selfish!"
Mrs. Parlin had a great many doubts as to Dotty's good behavior, but at
last consented. She felt pretty safe to trust her with Prudy, who was
very patient, and had even now a memory longer than Susy's.
Before the time came to start for Sabbath school, Dotty stood a long
while before the mirror, looking up at her gay hat and down at her
cunning gaiters. She liked nice clothes, and it pleased her to see
herself so prettily dressed.
"Is that you, O you darlin' Dotty?" said she, nodding her vain little
head, and smiling till her dimples "twinkled." "Well, good by, Dotty;
I's goin' to Sabber school."
"O, hurry, hurry!" cried Susy; "we'll surely be late."
They stepped out upon the pavement, Dotty walking between her sisters.
"We can't hurry, you know," said Prudy, "because Dotty's feet are so
little."
"_I_ never should have thought of bringing her," exclaimed Susy. "Any
one would think she'd been eating snails. When she takes up her foot she
shakes it before she puts it down."
"O, what a 'tory!" said Dotty Dimple, tossing her head. "I never shaked
my foot; did I, Prudy?"
But Prudy had suddenly turned about, and gone back to the house, saying
she had forgotten something. She had left home without kissing her
mother good by, and nothing could console Prudy for the loss of one of
her mother's caresses.
"There, girls, I'm back again," said she, catching her breath. "Now,
Dotty, let's we see how fast we can walk."
"Drefful dirty," said Dotty, scowling at her overshoes.
"Yes," replied Susy, "this snow has been round on the ground a good
while. It's most time it went back to heaven to get clean."
"What do you mean by snow's going to heaven?" said Prudy, gazing at the
street, which was half white and half black.
"Why, you see," answered Susy, "it says, 'God scattereth the snow like
wool, and his hoar-frost like the shining pearls.' And my Sabbath school
teacher tells us that after a while the sun draws it back, and makes
clouds of it, as 'twas before. So, you see, the snow and the rain keep
sprinkling down, and then rising up to the sky again."
"Why--ee!" said Prudy; "how does the snow go up? I never saw it going."
"Indeed you have, Prudy. It goes puffing up in fog. Why, it's just as if
the snow was a teakettle, and it keeps steaming out clouds."
"O, does it, Susy? Now, when it fogs, I shall know the snow's going up."
"Please don't talk any more," returned Susy, suddenly lowering her
voice; "we must be very quiet on the street, for it's Sunday. You don't
mean any harm, Prudy, but you say so much that I'm afraid I shall forget
my lesson. I keep saying it over to myself, you know."
Susy and Prudy belonged in different classes. Susy recited from a
question book, and Prudy learned verses from the Bible. Dotty Dimple
went with Prudy into Miss Carlisle's class, where eight or ten little
girls were already seated.
"It's my little sister, Miss Carlisle," whispered blushing Prudy.
"Mother allowed her to come to-day because she isn't coming any more.
Will you please excuse her?"
Smiling, Miss Carlisle was very willing to "excuse" Dotty for her sweet
sister's sake. But Prudy felt rather nervous. She made a place beside
herself for Dotty, who folded her small hands and sat as still as a
marble cherub; but what odd thing she might take it into her busy brain
to do, no one could tell.
When Prudy's turn came she repeated her verse: "Set a watch, O Lord,
before my mouth: keep the door of my lips."
"An excellent text," said Miss Carlisle. "It would make me very happy if
I thought you would remember it all your life, darling. Do you think you
understand it?"
"Mother says it means, 'Be careful to say only what is true and good,'"
replied Prudy, in a low voice.
"That is right," said Miss Carlisle; "but do you understand what is
called the 'figure of speech' in the verse? Do you know what a watch
is?"
"A little thing that ticks."
"There is another kind, my dear. We have in cities _watchmen_, to guard
us and see that all goes right while we sleep."
"O, I know," replied Prudy, quickly; "the verse asks God to give us a
_conscience_ to walk back and forth before our lips while we talk!"
Miss Carlisle went on to say more about the watch, while Dotty fixed her
bright eyes on her face, thinking, "What booful flowers those is in her
bonnet! Where did she pick 'em?"
The next verse was Sadie Bicknell's:--
"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path."
Dotty listened to this, and Miss Carlisle's remarks upon it, with the
most solemn earnestness, hoping to learn why it was that people should
sit with a lamp shining on their feet. She thought she could now see why
Prudy loved to go to "Sabber school;" it was because she heard so many
funny things.
Soon all the little girls had repeated their texts; but, to her great
surprise, Dotty had not been called upon to say or do a single thing. It
was a marked slight. She hardly knew whether to be angry or not. "I
guess the lady didn't see me," thought Dotty. So she cleared her throat
with a loud noise, which echoed across the room. Then Miss Carlisle
looked at her and smiled. She was off the seat, standing on her tiptoes,
Prudy tried to draw her back; but so much the more Dotty persisted. She
shook off her sister's hand.
"I wasn't a 'peakin' to you," said she.
"Never mind her, Prudy," said Miss Carlisle, for the poor girl was
crimson with shame; "let your little sister come to me; perhaps she
wishes to tell me something."
Miss Carlisle bent forward, and let Dotty place her rosy lips close to
her face.
"Now, what do you wish, little one?"
"You didn't hear me say my _werse_," whispered Dotty, in a tone of
pique.
"Your verse? Did you learn one, child?"
"Yes, 'm, I did. I learned it all day yes'day."
"O, very well! then say it, by all means, dear."
Prudy's face expressed perfect despair. She tried to hush Dotty; but one
might as well coax the wind to stop blowing. The child's thoughts had
been like caged birds, and now out they must fly.
"Shall I _whisper_?" asked Dotty.
"No, say your verse aloud."
The child planted herself in front of the class, and recited, in a high
key, and with the greatest delight,--
"What you thpose um had for supper?
B'ack-eyed beans, un bread un butter."
It was not possible to help smiling. Prudy in spite of her shame and
distress, shook with laughter; but it was a laughter just ready to
tremble into tears.
"I'll never ask mother to let her come again, if I once _do_ get her
safe home," thought outraged Prudy.
Dotty was not allowed to attend Sabbath school again that year; but it
was a long time before she forgot some of the things she had heard Miss
Carlisle say. Many of the strange words rang in her ears for weeks after
wards, though she said nothing about them.
One day she rushed into the nursery out of breath. Prudy was kneeling
before her little trunk, putting in order the paper dolls, which Dotty
had scattered over the floor. They were a sad sight. Some of them had
lost their heads, and some had lost their fine clothes, which are worth
as much as heads any day--to dolls.
But Dotty did not stop to look at the mischief she had made. Her
thoughts were of other matters. She had brought from the kitchen a "Tom
Thumb lamp" and a bunch of matches.
Without a word she seated herself on the floor, behind her sister, and
drew off her shoes and stockings. She looked for a moment at her little
pink toes, then rubbed the whole bunch of matches on the carpet, saying
to herself, "A lamp to my feet."
But, somehow, the lamp would not light itself. Dotty did not know how to
turn back the chimney, and, though there was certainly blaze enough in
the matches, it did not catch the wick. It leaped forward and caught the
skirt of Prudy's dress.
"You're burnin' afire! You're burnin' afire!" shouted Dotty, dancing
around her sister. Prudy now felt the heat, and screamed too, bringing
her mother and Norah to the spot at once. The flames were soon smothered
in a rug, and so Prudy's life was mercifully saved.
It was sometime before any one understood what Dotty had been trying to
do with a light.
"I was just only a-puttin' a lamp to my feet," sobbed she. "I learned it
to Sabber school."
But the little one's rare tears were soon dried by a romp with Zip out
of doors.
"It's queer how things always happen just right," said Prudy, still
trembling from her fright. "You said, if I'd been wearing my calico,
mother, I'd have been scorched. And you know it was only the littlest
while ago I put on this blue delaine, to go to auntie's in!"