"O, how that knitting-needle did hurt! Prudy ought to be ashamed! I'll pay her for it, now you see!"
You may be sure Prudy did not worry her little brains about it at all.
Her mother was brushing her hair next morning for school, and Mr. Parlin said,—
"Don't you think she's too little to go to school, mother? I don't care about her learning to read yet awhile."
Mrs. Parlin smiled in a droll way. "I should be very sorry myself to have Prudy learn to read," replied she; "but she won't keep still long enough: you needn't be a bit afraid."
"Look here, Prudy," exclaimed Mr. Parlin, "can you spell any words?"
"Poh! yes, sir, I guess I can," replied Prudy, her eyes looking very bright, "I can spell 'most all there is to spell."
"O, ho," laughed Mr. Parlin. "Let's hear you spell your own name. Can't do it, can you?"
"Poh! yes, I can! That ain't nothin'. Pre-ed, Prood, Pre-i-eddy, Prudy. There!"
"Bravo!" cried papa. "You're getting ahead, I declare! Now can you spell Susy's name?"