"Yes, of course; but so high up—O, so high up," sighed Dotty, "it makes you dizzy to think."
"Can um see we?" struck in little Flyaway, holding to Dinah's flat nose a bottle of reviving soap suds.
"Prudy says it's beautiful to be dead," added Dotty, without heeding the question; "beautiful to be dead."
"Shtop!" cried Flyaway; "I's a-talkin'. Does um see we?"
"O, I don' know, Fly Clifford; you'll have to ask the minister."
Flyaway squeezed the water from Dinah's ragged feet, and dropped her under the table, headache and all. Then she tipped over the goblet, and flew to the window.
"The Charlie boy likes canny seeds; I'll send him some," said she, pinning a paper of sugared spices to the window curtain, and drawing it up by means of the tassel. "O, dear, um don't go high enough. Charlie won't get 'em."
"Why, what is that baby trying to do?" said Dotty Dimple.
"Charlie's defful high up," murmured Flyaway, heaving a little sigh; "can't get the canny seeds."
"O, what a Fly! How big do you s'pose her mind is, Jennie Vance?"