Dotty Dimpwill! My mamma's kiss I'll keep; it's ahind my mouf;
she's gone to 'Dusty.

"Well, 'keep it ahind your mouf,' then; and here's another to put with
it. What _do_ you s'pose makes me love to kiss you so?"

"O, 'cause I so sweet," replied Flyaway, promptly; but she was not
thinking of her own sweetness, just then; she was wondering if she
could manage to run away to church.

"I'se a-goin' there myse'f! Sit still's a--a--" She looked around for
a comparison, and saw a grasshopper on the window-sill: "still's a
_gas-papa_. Man won't say nuffin' to me, see 'f he does!"

Strange such an innocent-looking child could be so sly! She ran down
the path with Horace, kissing her little hand to everybody for good
by, all the while thinking how she could steal off to church without
being seen.

"You may go up stairs and lie down with me on my bed," said grandma,
who was not very well. So Katie climbed upon the bed.

"My dee gamma, I so solly you's sick!" said she, stroking Mrs.
Parlin's face, and picking open her eyelids. But after patting and
"pooring" the dear lady for some time, she thought she had made her
"all well," and then was anxious to get away. Mrs. Parlin wished to
keep her up stairs as long as possible, because Ruth had a toothache.

"Shan't I tell you a story, dear?" said she.

"Yes, um; tell 'bout a long baby--no, a long story 'bout a short
baby."

"Well, once there was a king, and he had a daughter--"

"O, no, gamma, not that! Tell me 'bout baby that _didn't_ be on the
bul-yushes; I don't want to hear 'bout _Mosey_!"

Grandma smiled, and wondered if people, in the good old Bible days,
were in the habit of using pet names, and if Pharaoh's daughter ever
called the Hebrew boy "Mosey." She was about to begin another story,
when Flyaway said, "Guess I'll go out, now," and slid off the bed.
There was an orange on the table. She took it, held it behind her, and
walked quickly to the door. Looking back, she saw that her
grandmother was watching her.

"What you looking at, gamma? 'Cause I'm are goin' to bring the ollinge
right back."

And so she did, but not because it was wrong to keep it. Flyaway had
no conscience, or, if she had any, it was very small, folded up out of
sight, like a leaf-bud on a tree in the spring.

"Ask Ruthie to wash your face and hands, and then come right back to
grandma and hear the story."

"Yes um."

Down stairs she pattered. The moment Ruth had kissed her, and turned