“Mamma, what is the sky made of, that makes it so blue?”
“What we call the sky, Dotty, is only atmosphere, or air. I cannot explain it to you; it seems blue because it is so far away.”
“Why, that was what made me so ‘blue’ last night, ’cause I was so far away.”
“Pshaw!” said Susy; “it’s nonsense for such a little girl as you are to talk about the ‘blues.’ If you have them so much, I’m afraid they’ll settle in your nose, and you’ll be a ‘Blue Nose,’ like Norah.”
“O, what did Norah say when I didn’t come home? I’m going out to see.”
“Norah,” cried Dotty, bursting into the kitchen, “you never came in to ask if I was froze to death!”
Norah set down her flat-iron and kissed the child.
“Didn’t I know for sure you wasn’t last night, when your father came home and told us? And wouldn’t it have broke my heart if you’d died in the storm?”
“Would it, though, Norah? Then your heart must be hard; a soft one couldn’t break!”