CHAPTER VII.
BOTH SIDES OF A STORY.
The little school was not resumed for some time. Not that Prudy had forgotten it, by any means; but the next Saturday she had visitors, and the following Wednesday an exciting event occurred. It concerned Susy's pony. Percy Eastman said he was called Wings "because he hadn't any feet." Susy was vexed at this remark, and Prudy, taking her part, said, "Percy is such a pert boy;" adding next moment, "What is pert?"
But Percy only meant that the pony sadly needed some new shoes; and this was very true.
Now it happened that Mr. Parlin, being too busy to go himself, sent Eddy Johnson and Charley Piper with Wings to the blacksmith's shop. It seemed to Susy that the boys were gone a long while, for it was Wednesday afternoon, and she was impatient for a ride. She sat down to practise a little, but her mind was out of doors, and the unwilling piano seemed crying out to be let alone.
"I can't play," said Susy, decidedly; "and that's the truth."
At that moment a sweet little voice was heard, singing, "John's Brown buddy;" and Dotty Dimple's head and shoulders were thrust into the room.
"I've broked it," said she; "I've broked it all to smash."
"Broke what, for pity's sakes?"
"Your teapot," replied Dotty, in a very cheerful voice.