Little Prudy's Dotty Dimple Part 13

"Yes, I are," replied Dotty, well pleased to be asked such a question.

"I got 'most drowned, you know. O, I wish you'd stayed out in the rain the other day, and got cold; then you'd have been sick, too."

Prudy smiled, for she knew that her little sister really had no such unkind wish at heart. She was only trying, with her limited stock of words, to say that she longed to have a little sympathy. It was not often that Dotty was willing to be pitied.

"See here, Prudy darling, don't you want a piece of my cough-candy? It's good! You may bite clear down to there, where I've scratched with a pin."

"No, thank you, dear, I don't care a bit for it."

Dotty's face beamed with joyous dimples. It was so pleasant to be generous, and at the same time keep the candy! In her short life Dotty Dimple had not quite learned that "the half is better than the whole."

"Now," said Prudy, after thinking a while, "suppose we play that you're sick,--as you are, you know,--and I'm the doctor."

Dotty gave a little scream of delight.

"You may see my tongue," said she, running to the looking-gla.s.s; "it's real rusty. Can't you sc.r.a.pe it with a knife, Brady?"

"You must say _doctor_, when you speak to me. Now, my dear patient, it's best for you to lie on the lounge, and take medicine in the chest. Poor young lady, we shall be so glad when you get your health all well!--Do you want me to extricate a tooth? Have you any headache, miss?"

Prudy's voice was low and sympathetic. "Yes, Dr. Prudy," replied the patient, with a stifled groan; "I've truly got the ache in my head; it p.r.i.c.ks through my hair." "I'll tell you the cause of that, my dear patient; I suspect your pillow's made of pin-feathers. Let me feel your pulse on the back of your hand--your wrist, I mean. Terrible," moaned the young doctor, gazing mournfully at the ceiling; "it's stopped beating. Can't expect your life now. O, no!"

"Now you must put your hands behind you, and walk across the room,"

suggested Dotty; "that's the way."

"If my memory preserves me right," continued the young doctor, pacing the floor, "you've got the--ahem!--pluribus unum." Here Dr. Prudy ran her fingers through her hair. "But it goes light this year--with care, ma'am, you know. So I'll go and stir you up some pills in my marble mortar."

"O, dear me, doctor; don't you now! Bring me some lemonade and nuts, for I'm drefful sick; but don't bring me no pills nor molters!"

"Poh, only brown bread, Dotty! what do you suppose?"

Upon the whole, Miss Dimple, being petted to her heart's content, had quite a comfortable day of it.

In the evening she asked,--

"Mightn't I eat supper, all alone, in the parlor? Once, when I had the sores all wrinkled out on my face, on my chin and round my eyes, all round, _then_ I ate in the parlor."

Prudy, with her grandmother's consent, carried in a pretty salver, on which were a little Wedgewood teapot with hot water, a tiny sugar-bowl and creamer, a plate, and cup and saucer, some slices of toast, and a gla.s.s of jelly.

"Thank you a whole heart-full," said Dotty, springing off the sofa; "that little waiter and so forth is real big enough for me."

Dotty thought "and so forth" meant "cups and saucers." She had heard Norah tell Prudy, when she wished to set the table, that she might put on "the knives and forks, and so forth," and Dotty had noticed that it was always cups and saucers after the knives and forks.

"But, Dr. Prudy, there's one thing you've forgot," said the young patient; "a little tea-bell, so I can tingle it, and call you in."

The bell was brought, and while the rest of the family ate in the dining-room, Dotty took her "white tea" in the parlor, in queenly state.

Prudy had eaten half a thin slice of toast, when the long and sharp ringing of the tea-bell summoned her into the parlor.

"And what would you like, Miss Dimple?" said the remarkably obliging doctor, with a low bow.

"More jelly," replied the patient, holding up the empty gla.s.s, "and some squince marmalade."

After obeying this request, Prudy went back to her supper, and had just finished her slice of bread, when the bell struck again.

This time there was "that old spin-wheel in the chimney again,"--so the patient said,--and a book in the what-not wrong side up, looking "as if it would choke."

The book was set right; but the noise in the chimney was too much for the doctor's skill, since neither she nor any one else knew its cause.

Next sounded a furious peal of the bell, and a series of loud screams from the little sick girl. She had been dreadfully stung by a bee, which had buzzed its way out from the fireboard. Strange to tell, there was a swarm of bees in the chimney, instead of "a spin-wheel."

Abner at once mounted to the roof of the house, and peeped into the chimney. A nice, cosy beehive it made, filled to the throat with waxen cells.

Dotty bore her sufferings sweetly, being sustained by the promise of a large box of honey, by and by.

"Bees have a 'sweet, sweet home,' I think," said Susy.

"So do ants when they get in the sugar-box," rejoined Prudy.

As night approached, Dotty showed symptoms of croup.

"I think," said her grandmother, "it will be the safest way to give her some castor-oil and mola.s.ses; that is what her father used to take when he was a little boy."

Dotty pouted. "Dirty, slippy castor-oil," she cried, shaking her elbows--a thing she seldom did now. "I shan't let it go in my throat.

I'll bite my teeth togedder tight."

"Alice," said her grandmother, "is that the proper way to speak to me?"

The child's face cleared in a moment.

"I wasn't a-speakin' to you, grandma," said she, sweetly; "I was a talkin' to the dust-pan."

"O, Dotty Parlin!" cried Prudy, much distressed. "n.o.body ever talked to the dust-pan, in all the days of their lives! I always thought you were a good girl, Dotty, but now I am afraid you tell false fibs!"

Dotty clung about Prudy like a sweet pea, and peeped into her eyes with a pleading look.

"Say, do you love me, Prudy? For I'm goin' to let the oil slip right down my throat, just as my papa did when _he_ was a little boy."

After swallowing the oil and mola.s.ses, Dotty grew very affectionate, and kissed everybody twice, all around. Then she said her prayers, and went to bed.

"Mamma," said she, "now smoove me up under my chin, please." She loved to have the sheet laid straight. "Do you s'pose G.o.d will take care o' me to-night, mamma?"

"Certainly, my darling; you may be very sure He will. Your heavenly Father never sleeps. He watches over you always."

"Now, truly, does he?" said the child, pressing her flushed cheek against the pillow. "Does he see me in my chubby bed, when the moon's all dark?

"O, my suz!" cried she, suddenly, raising her head; "G.o.d can take care o' me most always, you know, but I'm drefful afraid something will catch me while he's 'tending to _another_ man!"

Mrs. Parlin explained to her little daughter, as well as she could, the omnipresence and infinite goodness of G.o.d; and while she was still talking, in low, soothing tones, the little one fell asleep.