"And lightning besides, Prudy! And she made me throw away my beautiful picnic basket, and she kept hers, and it never hurt her a bit! Don't you think she was just as mean! What makes grandma let me go with her, do you s'pose? I shall grow real bad! Won't you tell her to stop it?"
Dotty moaned with pain, and between her moans she talked very fast.
"And all this time," said she, "we haven't any ducks!"
Prudy, who was dropping off to sleep, murmured, "No."
"But it's real too bad, Prudy. I never saw such a lazy old hen—did you? Prudy, did you?"
Presently, when Prudy thought it must be nearly morning, there was a clutch upon her shoulder, and a voice cried in her ear,—
"I don't see what makes you go to sleep, Prudy Parlin, when my foot aches so bad! And O, how I want a drink o' water!"
Prudy thought she should never find the match-box; but she did at last, and lighted the lamp after several trials. It was dreary work, though, going down stairs with those sticks in her eyes, to get the water.
Dotty drained the nipperkin at two draughts, and said it wasn't half enough.
"O, you shall have all you want, little sister," said Prudy, kindly; "you may drink up the whole barrel if you like."