Little Prudy's Dotty Dimple Part 9

"It is a most abusive thing--if it is so," said she, with much feeling; for if anything could move her gentle heart to anger, it was cruelty to animals. "What made Mr. Grimes behave so strangely, boys? Was the pony restless?"

"Restless? No, indeed, ma'am," replied Eddy, the orator; "as gentle as a lamb, ma'am. It was Pete Grimes's wicked temper, and his wicked disposition; that's what it was."

It was well for Susy that her over-strained feelings now found vent in words and tears. "There is no grief like the grief which does not speak." Her dumb agony gave way, and she wept and raved like a little wild thing.

Mrs. Parlin ordered the boys to lead the pony around to the back door, and there she washed out his wounds, trying all the while to soothe Susy, whose heart was beating a quick-step, and who trembled in every limb.

"Old Grimes is dead, that good old man!" repeated Prudy, with angry emphasis; "but it wasn't _his_ father. No, indeed; with the old blue b.u.t.tons down the back! Why, Peter is an awful man! I saw him once, and his face looked as if he'd been rubbing it on a pen-wiper! There, Susy, don't you cry," she added, applying a moral lesson to her sister's wounded feelings, like a healing plaster; "he's dreadful wicked, and one of these days he'll get hurt his own self; a horse'll strike _him_!"

"Yes, a horse'll strike _him_!" echoed Dotty Dimple.

"But what good will that do Wings?" moaned Susy. "Evil for evil only makes things worse."

Her indignation did not lessen, but rather increased, the longer she reflected upon the subject. What right had a man to abuse anybody's horse--more especially hers?

"Mr. Grimes ought to be 'dited, and sent to the Reform School or State's Prison this very night," said she, in her wrath. Prudy thought precisely the same; also Miss Dimple, who looked upon the whole affair as a joke, intended for her amus.e.m.e.nt.

When Mr. Parlin came home to tea, and heard the story, he did not blame Susy in the least for her indignation, but started off for the blacksmith's with the limping pony, saying he meant to "inquire into the business."

"May I go with you?" cried Susy.

"Me, too?" said Prudy, echoed by Dotty.

"Only Susy," replied their father; "she may go if she likes."

Susy very much wondered what her father was going to do. As they approached the shop, she saw, standing at the door, the man whose face looked as if it had been "rubbed on a pen-wiper."

"Mr. Grimes," said Mr. Parlin, in a pleasanter manner than Susy thought was at all necessary, "Mr. Grimes, I believe I owe you for shoeing this pony."

While Mr. Grimes was making the change, Mr. Parlin added,--

"How happens it, my friend, that this little animal bears such marks of ill treatment? See how he limps. Look at this gash."

"O," said Mr. Grimes, "he lamed himself by kicking out against the coal-box; he's a nervous thing."

Mr. Parlin then told the boys' story.

"It is not so, upon my word and honor, sir," replied sooty-faced Mr.

Grimes, with great amazement. "I'll leave it to Mr. Fox."

Mr. Fox, and two or three other men, declared very positively that they had seen little Wings beating himself against the coal-box; and one of them pointed out to Mr. Parlin the blood-stain on the edge of the wood.

"You can't trust much to what boys say, especially such harum-scarum fellows as Ed Johnson," added Mr. Fox. "I shouldn't wonder, now, Grimes, if he and that Piper boy got their tempers up, and tried to spite you, for ordering them out of the shop. They were troublesome, and he had to speak sharp," added Mr. Fox, addressing Mr. Parlin again.

"That's so!" exclaimed Mr. Grimes. "You take three little chaps, and have 'em meddling with your nails, and sticking sc.r.a.ps of iron into the coals, and it makes a man cross--or it frets _me_, and I told 'em to quit."

"Saucy little rogues," chimed in Mr. Fox, anxious for the honor of his workman.

"As for my striking the pony," continued Mr. Grimes, "I might have patted him once or twice with the _handle_ of the hammer. I often do that; but my blows wouldn't kill a fly."

After a little more conversation Mr. Parlin was satisfied that no real cruelty had been used towards Wings. Susy's heart rose like a feather.

"_Always wait till you hear both sides of a story!_" said Mr. Parlin, as he and his daughter walked home.

"Just the words _mother_ said this very day," cried Susy, skipping lightly over the paving-stones. "It's so queer you and mother should _both_ talk so much alike."

CHAPTER VIII.

THE WATER-KELPIE.

It was nearly time for vacation. As the children were to start on the next Monday for Willow-brook, their mother allowed them to spend their last Wednesday afternoon with their cousin Florence. It fell to Prudy's lot to dress her little sister.

"I'm ever so glad," said Dotty, "that the barber snipped off my _kyurls_. Don't you think I do look like a boy, now, Prudy? You may call me Tommy, if you want to; I'm willin'."

"There, now," she exclaimed, when her toilet was made, "say me my lesson; please to, Prudy."

"O, I forgot all about that" replied the little teacher, uneasily. "Susy 'll be done practising in half an hour, and I thought I'd just have time to make my doll's boots,--finish them, I mean. Can't you wait till Sat.u.r.day, Dotty?"

"O, my suz, Prudy Parlin! When I get to be a great sister to you, I won't treat you so. I want to get my letters all smooth done to-day,--don't want to wait till Sat'day."

At any other time Prudy would have been gratified to see Dotty show so much eagerness.

"Be kind to thy sister," hummed the gentle little teacher. "Yes, I will. I'm always glad after I've been kind. Nothing makes me love Dotty so well as to try to please her!"

"Now," said she, calling her school to order, "you've learned as far as S, which I think is doing finely, all alone, with n.o.body to help us.

This next letter stands, you see, for a _top_. What is it we drink out of cups?"

"I don't get anything but milk, and that's in a mug," replied Dotty in an injured tone.

"But what does mother drink? Now think."

Dotty eyed the letter sharply. "Why, mamma drinks coffee sometimes, and it has grounds; but they don't look like that thing, the grounds don't!

Why, that thing looks like a spade, with the teeth out, wrong side up."

"You mean a _rake_" laughed Prudy. "Well, dear, this is T."

When Dotty came to X, she declared it stood "for your thumb. Susy said so, and it was in the music-book."

Now came an hour of triumph for the little pupil. Her mother was both surprised and delighted to hear that her youngest daughter knew all her letters.

"She can say them skipping about," said Prudy, "and can spell a few little words, too."

"C, a, t, cat, d, o, g, Zip," laughed Dotty, showing her deepest dimples, and frisking about the room.

"My dear little ones," said Mrs. Parlin, kissing both the children, "I am really very much gratified. Both teacher and pupil have shown a great deal of patience and perseverance."