For the moment Prudy fancied she was telling the truth.
Susy laughed. "Just to think of our keeping a boy in this house, Prudy Parlin!"
"O, no! course not!" returned her little sister, quickly; "we wouldn't keep a boy."
"You see," argued Susy, "it's boys that fires all the popguns, and whistle in your ears, and frighten you. Why, if this was a brother, we couldn't but just live! What made you cry for a brother, Prudy?"
"Poh, I didn't! I wouldn't have him for nothin' in my world! I'm glad God sended a girl, and that's what made me laugh."
"It seems so queer to think of it Prudy, I don't know what to do with myself, I declare."
"Well, I know what I'm goin' to do. I'll give her my red pocket-dress. She's come clear down from God's house, and this is a drefful cold world."
Susy knew that little Prudy's heart must be overflowing with sisterly love to the baby, or she would not be willing to give her the pocket-dress.
"She can tuck her candy in it," pursued Prudy; "'tisn't a believe-make, you know; there's a hole clear through. She can tuck her candy in, and her pyunes and pfigs, and teenty apples. Oho!"
"'Twill be as mother says about giving her your dress, Prudy; but we shall be glad to see you kind to the new sister," said Susy, who was fond of giving small lectures to Prudy. "We ought to be kind to her, for God sent her down on purpose. Of course it will be me that will take the most care of her; but maybe they'll let you watch her sometimes when she's asleep. Don't blow open her eyes any more, Prudy; that's very naughty. If we do just as we ought to, and are kind to her, she'll be a comfort, and grow up a lady!"