“Do I? I didn’t mean to. O, how white the world is! Looks like a frosted cake. Prudy, don’t you wish you’s dead?”
“No; what an idea!”
“Nor I don’t, either.”
“Then what made you ask if I did, Dotty Dimple?”
“O, I was only thinking about the angels sifting down snow. Look at the drift top o’ that store. So hard you could jump on it, and not leave a scar.”
“Please, Dotty, keep your elbow still. Here we are at the school-house. Now remember, you must behave like a little lady.”
“Needn’t tell me that, Prudy Parlin. It isn’t as if I was some girls, that don’t know your A B C’s. Six years old—going on seven. Can—”
Dotty was about to say, “Can tie a bow-knot,” and would have added quite a list of other accomplishments; but as she found herself just then in a crowd of little girls, she very prudently closed her lips, and entered the school-room.
“Miss Parker, this is my little sister Alice,” said Prudy, going up to the teacher; “but people know what you mean better if you say ‘Dotty Dimple.’ She has never been to school before; but she can read in the First Reader, if you let her spell the hard words aloud.”