"No wonder Phylly was so sure poor Phrony Jane was running the machine when she heard the roar of that saw of yours," she said, giving Johnny's curly hair a pull.
"And you see," said Johnny, "the worst of it is, it was me that made Phrony Jane miss going to the lawn party, and I'd like to make it up to her somehow."
"Yes." They laid their heads together, and the outcome of it was that Miss Lawton was spoken to, and she brought out her lively little colored crowd one day, and Phrony Jane had a lawn party of her own—a surprise lawn party, for which Johnny freely spent all his savings for candy, and strode about with a lofty sense of having "made up" for his injury to Phrony Jane in a most magnanimous manner.
"Why didn't you w'ar your style dress wid de ruffles 'n' over-skirt, Phylly?" asked Phrony Jane of that young lady, observing that her attire by no means exhibited the grandeur which might reasonably have been expected.
Phylly had felt guilty over the result of her meddling and gossiping about Phrony Jane. Moreover, Mrs. Dent had just explained to her the mistake which Johnny's Sunday sawing had led her into making, and she felt too proud at this recognition of herself as a truthful character to feel inclined to tell any lies just now.
"Well, de fact ob it is, Phrony Jane," she whispered, confidentially, "I ain't got no such a ting as a lawn dress—'n' it ain't got no ruffles, nor yet no over-skirt."
