she
had learned many lessons in "holding her peace."

"Perhaps we'd better get up," suggested she, rubbing her eyes.

Whereupon Dotty pursed her little red lips.

"Let's play keep house," answered she, for the sake of being
cross-grained.

"Well, I don't care much," said Prudy, anxious to keep the peace.

They proceeded to make a tent of the upper sheet, and converse upon the
trials of this troublesome life, as Mr. and Mrs. Carter, the two heads
of a family.

"There's our Sammy," said Prudy, dolefully, "our poor Sammy. I don't
see, Mrs. Carter, what we shall do with that boy. Within a day or two he
has taken to stealing acorns!"

"Acorns!" responded Dotty, in a tragic tone. "O, Mr. Carter, I _sejest_
the best thing we can do is to stand him up in the sink, and pump water
on him!"

"I never thought of that, my dear wife! You are prob'bly
correct!--prob'bly correct.--But what course _shall_ we pursue with Mary
Ann, and Julia Ann, and Anna Maria? They all bite their finger
nails--bite 'em down to the double-quick."

"I would sejest, sejest--why don't you give those children some
_proxitude_ of iron, my dear--through a knitting-needle? Hark!"
continued she, as Prudy scratched the top of the tent with her
forefinger. "There's a mouse in this house, Mr. Carter: you must set a
trap as quick as you can spring!"

"Very correct," replied the obedient husband, "very correct, Mrs.
Carter. I'll call Jerusha to toast some cheese. Je-ru-_shay_!"

"What do you mean by Jerusha, Mr. Carter? We haven't any in the house."

"O, she is our chambermaid, my dear."

"But I won't '_low_ her to be Jerusher, Mr. Carter!"

"But, my dear wife, Jerusha is a proper name; it belongs to her."

"No, it isn't a proper name either; it's a very _improper_ name, Prudy
Parlin; and if you call her Jerusher so, I'll get us both _dis-vosed_!"

Prudy saw it was useless to continue the game: Dotty was not in a mood
to be satisfied. The two children arose and dressed themselves, Prudy
taking peculiar care not to finish her own toilet first.

"I'm going to tell you something," said Dotty, grimly, "but you mustn't
tell mamma. I've made up my mind to be naughty!"

"To be naughty?"

"Yes, that's what I said--naughty! I'm tired all out o' bein' good!
First thing I thought was, I'd be bad all day. I want to fret, and I'm
going to fret!"

"O, Do-otty! Dotty Di-imple!"

"You needn't say anything, Prudy Parlin. You can talk as grand as a
whale. B