After every one else had spoken, Mrs. Parlin suggested that she would like to call the baby Alice Barrow, in honor of a dear friend, now in heaven.
She grew to be a fair, fat baby; and while her teeth were pricking through, like little pointed pearls, Susy's front teeth were dropping out. Then she grew to be a toddling child; and while she was learning to walk, Prudy was beginning to sew patchwork. For time does not stand still; it passed, minute by minute, over the heads of Susy, Prudy, and Alice, as well as all the rest of the world. And soon it brought an end to Alice's babyhood.
CHAPTER II.
THE BONE MAN.
In spite of all Mr. Parlin had said against it, his little daughter was called by various pet names,—such as Midge, and Ladybird, and Forget-me-not. Very few were the people who seemed to remember that her name was Alice.
She had a pair of busy dimples, which were a constant delight to her sisters.
"They twinkle, twinkle like little stars, only they don't shine," cried Prudy.
"Why," said Susy, "it's just as if her cheeks were made of water, and we were skipping pebbles in 'em."
And because of these tiny whirl pools, the child was usually called Dotty Dimple. From the time she could stand on her own little feet, she was a queen of a baby, and carried her small head very high. If she chanced to fall over a chair she seldom shed a tear, but thought the chair had treated her shamefully, and ought to be shut up in the closet. She never liked to have any one kiss her little bruises and pity her. It gave great offence if any one said, "Poor Alice!" She seemed to grow half a head taller in a minute, and looked as if she would say, "Needn't make a baby o' me!"