"Scrip," cried she, holding up some greenbacks.
"Skipt," echoed Flyaway, who had come out of the cocoon and gone into the form of a mop, her head adorned with cotton fringe.
Yes; a two dollar bill and a one dollar bill, as green as lettuce leaves. This was a great marvel. Columbus was not half so much surprised when he discovered America.
"Mrs. Parlin, do you hear?"
But Mrs. Parlin heard nothing, for the din of the egg-beating drowned both the shrill little voices.
A sudden idea came to Jennie. Whose money was this? Mrs. Parlin's? No; hadn't Mrs. Parlin looked over the rags once, and said the children might have what was left? "'You are welcome to all the treasures you can find;' that was what she said," repeated Jennie to herself. "I'm the one that found this treasure,—not Dotty, not Flyaway. This is honest, and I do not lie when I say it."
Jennie began to tremble, and a hot color flew into her cheeks, and added new lustre to her black eyes. "If I could only make Flyaway forget it," thought she, with a whirling sensation of anger towards the innocent child, who knew no better than to proclaim aloud every piece of news she heard. "I'll make her forget it." Jenny hastily concealed the money in the neck of her dress.
"Where's that skipt? that skipt?" said Flyaway.
"Fly Clifford," said Jennie, severely, "you've climbed on the table! Just think of it! Your grandmother doesn't allow you on her table. What made you get up here."
"'Cause," replied Flyaway, seizing the kitty by the tail, and thrusting her into a cabbage-net, "'cause I fought best."