Dotty Dimple Out West by Sophie [pseud.] May


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Page 15

"Did _I_ do that?"

She had no time to spend in lamentation.

"I don't want to let my papa know what I've done," thought she, giving
the last hasty touches to her toilet: "he'll have to go and pay the man
that keeps house; and then I'm afraid he'll think, if his little girl
keeps choking folks and breaking things, I ought to stay at home."

But Dotty was too well grounded in the "white truth" to hesitate long.
She could not hide the accident and be happy. When she mentioned it to
her father, he did not say, as some fathers might have done,--

"You careless child! Your sister _Prudy_ didn't break a pitcher or lose
a pair of gloves all the way to Indiana."

He and Mrs. Parlin were both afraid that, if they spoke in this manner,
their children might infer that carelessness is just as sinful as
falsehood and ill temper; they wished them to know there is a vast
difference. So Mr. Parlin only said,--

"Broken the pitcher? I'm sorry; but you did right to tell me. Give me
your hand, and let us go to breakfast."

Major Lazelle was at table. He patted Dotty's head, and said she looked
like "a sweet-pea on tiptoe for a flight." He seemed very fond of
quoting poetry; and nothing could have been more pleasing to Dotty, who
loved to hear high-sounding words, even if they did soar above her
head.

The party of three started in due time on their journey. It was very
much the same thing it had been yesterday; boys with tea-kettles of
ice-water, boys with baskets of fruit and lozenges, and boys with
newspapers. There was a long train of cars, and every car was crowded.

"O, papa," sighed Dotty, after she had tried to count the passengers,
and had been obliged to give it up because there were so many stepping
off at every station, and so many more stepping in. "O, papa, where are
all these people going to?"

And in the afternoon she repeated the question, adding,--

"I shouldn't think there'd be anybody left in any of the houses."

By the time they reached Albany, she had seen so much of the world that
she felt fairly worn out, and her head hummed like a hive of bees.

"I didn't know, papa,--I never knew,--there were so many folks!"

The next letter Dotty had to read was from Prudy. It was merely a poem
copied very carefully. You may skip it if you like; but the major said
it was exquisite, and I think the major must have been a good judge, for
I have the same opinion myself!

"LITTLE DANDELION.

"Gay little Dandelion
Lights up the meads,
Swings on her slender foot,
Telleth her beads;
Lists to the robin's note
Poured from above;
Wise little Dandelion
Cares not for love.

"Cold lie the daisy banks,
Clad but in green,
Where in the Mays agone
Bright hues were seen;
Wild pinks are slumbering,
Violets delay;
True little Dandelion
Greeteth the May.

"Brave little Dandelion!
Fast falls the snow,
Bending the daffodil's
Haughty head low.
Under that fleecy tent,
Careless of cold,
Blithe little Dandelion
Counteth her gold.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sat 5th Apr 2025, 3:58