“She isn’t half so good as I am,” thought Dotty; “but Miss Parker doesn’t know it. To-morrow I’ll try not to whisper, and then she’ll call me a dear little girl, and it’ll be the truth.”
So to-morrow Dotty set out in earnest to be a good girl.
“Norah,” said she, going into the kitchen at half past eight, while Prudy was busy reading,—“Norah, is there any alum in the house?”
“Slippery alum, do you mean, Miss Dotty?”
“I don’t know. I guess it isn’t slippery. I want a little piece about so big,” said Dotty, exhibiting the ball of her thumb.
Norah took down a box from the highest shelf in the pantry, and, after searching a while, produced a bit of alum, and gave it to Dotty.
“But I can’t see what you want of it,” she said.
“Won’t you ever tell anybody, Norah? It’s to pucker up my mouth, so I shan’t whisper.”
Norah sat down upon the wood-box to laugh.