Prudy awoke one morning full of mischief. At the second table she split her johnny-cake, and spread it open, saying it was a singing-book, and began to sing out of it,—
"Little drops of water,
Little grains of sand."
Grandma heard her from the next room, and came in very much surprised.
"What shall I do with such a little girl as this?" said she, shaking her finger at Prudy.
"I think," answered the child, "you ought to call me to you and say, 'You been a-singin' to the table, Prudy.' Then I'll say 'Yes'm;' and you'll say, 'Prudy, go right out in the kitchen, and don't let me see you till you come back pleasant.'"
Grandma put her head out of the window a moment, for she didn't want any body to see her smile.
"This is one of Prudy's days," thought she. "I'm really afraid I shall have to punish her before it's over."
Very soon after breakfast the doorbell rang, and a little boy left a note directed to Miss Grace Clifford. It said,—
"Miss Grace Clifford, the Misses Parlin, and Mr. Horace Clifford, are respectfully invited to a gypsy supper in the Pines."
The children hardly knew what it meant.