Dr. Papa hurried to his darling as fast as he could; but, by the time he got home, her nose was badly swelled, and he had to hurt her very much in order to get out the "pessle." When it was all over, he took her on his knee, and tried to make her forget her troubles by showing her some pictures.
"The man in this picture is a school-teacher," said he; "and the little boy who stands by his desk must have been naughty, for the teacher is going to whip him with that stick."
"Goin' to w'ip him? Well, I'll wait and see if he w'ips him," said Flaxie, folding her hands and staring at the picture with all her might.
Dr. Papa laughed. He often laughed at what Flaxie said; and Mrs. Prim, a lady who lived in town, thought he "spoiled her." Perhaps he did.
"O, see the pretty chickies," said the child, as her father turned to another picture. "Does God make chickies?"
"Certainly."
"Well," said she, thoughtfully, "how they must have hollered when he stuck the fedders in!"
I must confess Dr. Papa laughed again. Then he put Flaxie down, and said he must go, though she held him by the vest-buttons, and declared the next picture would be "awful funny."
"How do you know?"
"O, I guess it will!"