Woe to 'em all when I yoam again!'"
One wee forefinger pointed up to the sky; the right hand, doubled to a threatening little fist, was shaken at Dotty, while the young orator's face was so wrinkled with scowls that Dotty laughed outright.
"Do speak that again," she said. "You are the cunningest baby!"
'"Woe to de Dotties—!' No, I can't tell it 'thout I have sumpin to stan' on!" sighed Miss Flyaway, falling off the stump directly against Dotty.
"I believe you've broken me," cried Dotty; for, though Katie was small, her weight pressed heavily.
"Well, Fibby's broke sumpin too," replied she, calmly. "What does lamps wear?"
"I s'pose you mean chimneys."
"Yes, Fibby has did it; she's broke a chimley."
"Look up here, little Ruffleneck; you're an honor to the state," said brother Horace, proudly. "You don't find such a 'cute child as this in Yankee land, Dotty Dimple."
"You musn't call me a Yankee," said Dotty, who never liked Horace's tone when he used the word. "I'm not a Yankee; I'm a 'Publican!"