The children were more fortunate. Mamma lectured them on the sin of running away from Mammy; but she put a piece of court-plaster on Diddie’s head, and kissed all of the dirty little faces, much to Mammy’s disgust, who grumbled a good deal because they were not punished, saying,
“Missis is er spilin’ dese chil’en, let’n uv ’em cut up all kind er capers. Yer all better hyear me, mun. Yer better quit dem ways yer got, er runnin’ off an’ er gwine in de mud, an’ er gittin’ yer cloes tor’d, an’ er gittin’ me butted wid sheeps; yer better quit it, I tell yer; ef yer don’t, de deb’l gwine git yer, sho’s yer born.”
But, notwithstanding her remarks, the little girls had a nice hot supper, and went to bed quite happy, while Mammy seated herself in her rocking-chair, and entertained Aunt Milly for some time with the children’s evil doings and their mother’s leniency.
CHAPTER V
DIDDIE’S BOOK
One morning Diddie came into the nursery with a big blank-book and a lead-pencil in her hand.
“What’s that, Diddie?” asked Dumps, leaving her paper dolls on the floor where she had been playing with Chris, and coming to her sister’s side.
“Now don’t you bother me, Dumps,” said Diddie; “I’m goin’ to write a book.”
“Are you?” said Dumps, her eyes opening wide in astonishment. “Who’s goin’ ter tell yer what ter say?”
“I’m goin’ ter make it up out o’ my head,” said Diddie; “all about little girls and boys and ladies.”
“I wouldn’t have no boys in it,” said Dumps; “they’re always so hateful: there’s Cousin Frank broke up my tea-set, an’ Johnnie Miller tied er string so tight roun’ Cherubim’s neck till hit nyearly choked ’im. Ef I was writin’ er book, I wouldn’t have no boys in it.”