in any part of the store.

"That little one is the spryest child I ever saw," said the man with
the court-plaster, as Flyaway hovered about the candy-jars, like a
butterfly over a flower-bed. "She isn't a Yankee child--is she?"

"No, sir," replied Dotty, quickly; "she is a _westerness_."

She had heard Horace use the word, and presumed it was correct.

"I do wish Dotty would be more afraid of strangers," thought Prudy. "I
never will take her anywhere again--with a wheelbarrow."

Flyaway fluttered around for a minute, and then alighted upon her
favorite sweet-meats, "_pepnits_." She chose for her portion a large
amount of these, an harmonica, and a sugar pig, which Dotty assured
her was not "colored." "Nothing but pink dots, and those you can pick
off."

"The rags came to seventy-five cents, and this young lady has now had
her third; here is the remainder," said Mr. Bradley, smiling as he
gave each of the little Parlins some money, and bowed them out of the
store.

"I'll put it in _my_ porte-monnaie, sir; my sister Prudy didn't bring
hers."

"What makes you talk so much, Dotty Dimple?" said Prudy, "that man
has been making sport of us all the time."

"Did he?" said Dotty, solemnly. "I'm 'stonished at grandma Parlin
letting us sell rags! Wish this wheelbarrow was in the _Stiftic
Ocean_."

"But it isn't, little sister, and the worst of it is, we've got to
take it to the photograph saloon; it's so far home and back again."

"Got to take the ole _wheelbarrel_ every single where we go," pouted
Flyaway, as drearily as either of her cousins.

"You needn't mind it, though," said Dotty, giving the one-wheeled
coach a hard push; "a little girl that's going visiting, and have
succotash for dinner."

"I didn't know I was. O, I _am_ so glad! What is it!"

"Corn and beans. Aunt Martha's girl is the best cook,--makes cherry
pudding. Dear, dear, dear! Wish I was in Portland; see 'f I wouldn't
go to Tate Penny's, and have some salmon and ice-cream!"

Down the beautiful shaded street walked the three little rag-pedlers;
and it did seem as if they were met by all the people in town, from
the minister down to the barefoot boys going fishing. At last they
arrived at the house on wheels.

"Now I'll tell you, Fly, what we're going to do," said Prudy. "Dotty
and I want to have our tin-types taken, to give to grandma, as a
pleasant surprise. We'll pay for yours too, if you'll sit for it."

"_Tin-tybe_? Of course, indeed I