ipped from now till next Christmas," said aunt
Louise, laughing in spite of herself to see the little one set to work
with thumb and finger, trying to do her own punishing. "There, there,
go off, and be a good girl."

Prudy's bright spirits rose again at these words, and she thought she
would keep on trying to make herself useful. It was aunt Madge she
wanted to help--good aunt Madge, who was so busy cooking for the gypsy
supper.

[Illustration: PRUDY DUSTING.]

"I'll feed her bird," thought the child; "he sings as if he was
hungry."

Now aunt Madge had fed little Daffy before sunrise, and he was as
yellow and happy as a canary can be. But silly little Prudy trotted
off after a piece of sponge cake, climbed into a chair, opened the
cage door, and swung the cake before his eyes.

Of course Daffy flew out, and one might suppose that was the last of
him; but it so happened that the windows were not up.

Prudy ran, in great fright, to tell aunt Madge, and when she opened
the door, the cat got in; and such a time as there was, you may
imagine. Kitty rushed for the canary, aunt Louise rushed for the
kitty, and aunt Madge for the bird. At last, Daffy was caught, and
safe in his little home, with only the loss of a few tiny feathers.

"I'd give that child one sound whipping," said aunt Louise.

"Let Madge attend to her," replied grandma; "she will do right, for
she knows how to keep her temper."

Louise said nothing, but she felt the rebuke; and as she left the
room, there was a bright color in her cheeks.

"Prudy," said aunt Madge, gently, "you didn't mean to open the cage
door, did you?"

Prudy remembered that she had been scolded before for saying "I didn't
mean to."

"Yes'm, I did," replied she, in a choked voice, "I meant to do it
a-purpose."

"I'm really astonished," cried aunt Madge, raising both hands. "Then
it's surely my duty to punish you."

"You may," sobbed Prudy. "You may shut me up, and not let me have no
dinner, 'cause I ain't hungry. I've been eatin' cake!"

"I think," said aunt Madge, "it would be a better punishment to keep
you home from the party."

"O," cried Prudy, eagerly, "wouldn't you rather snip my hands? You can
snip 'em with a piece o' whalebone, you know, and switch me all over
with a switch, and do _every thing_ to me, if you'll only let me go to
the party!"

"I'm afraid you'll forget, unless you're kept at home, Prudy."

"O, no, no; I'll promise truly I won't try to help a