s the thief, Cousin Dotty. I hope you will excuse the liberty I
took in going to your trunk."

"So it is my own oyster pearl," cried Dotty. "O, I never was so glad in
my life."

CHAPTER XII.

"A POST OFFICE LETTER."

The "far-off" feeling rather increased upon Dotty. It seemed to
her that she had never before reflected upon the immense distance which
lay between her and home. The house might burn up before ever she got
back. Prudy might have a lung fever, and mamma the "typo." It was
possible for Zip to choke with a bone, and for a thousand other dreadful
things to happen. And if Dotty were needed ever so much, she could not
reach home without travelling all those miles.

Then, what if one of the conductors should prove to be a "_non,_" and
she should never reach home at all, but, instead of that, should be
found lying in little pieces under a railroad bridge?

Sister Prudy had never troubled her head with such fancies. The dear God
would attend to her, she knew. He cared just as much about her one
little self as if she had been the whole United States. But Dotty did
not understand how this could be.

"I wish I hadn't come out West at all," thought she. "They're going to
take me up to Indi'nap'lis; and there I'll have to stay, p'raps a week;
for my father always has such long business! Dear, dear! and I don't
know but everybody's dead!"

Just as she had drawn a curtain of gloom over her bright little face,
and had buried both her dimples under it, and all her smiles, Uncle
Henry came home from his office, looking very roguish.

"Well, little miss, and what do you suppose I've brought you from up
town? Put on your thinking-cap, and tell me."

"Bananas? papaws? 'simmons? lemons? Dear me, what is it? Is it to eat or
wear? And have you got it in your pocket?"

Uncle Henry, who had had his hand behind him, now held it out with a
letter in it--a letter in a white envelope, directed, in clear, elegant
writing, to "Miss Alice B. Parlin, care of H.S. Clifford, Esq., Quinn,
Indiana."

There could be no mistake about it; the letter was intended for Dotty
Dimple, and had travelled all the way by mail. But then that title,
Miss, before the name! It was more than probable that the people all
along the road had supposed it was intended for a young lady!

[Illustration: DOTTY'S FIRST POST-OFFICE LETTER. _Page 162_.]

When the wonderful thing was given her, her "first post-office letter,"
she clapped her hands