Little Prudy's Dotty Dimple

by Sophie May

  CHAPTER X.

  DR. PRUDY.

  The next day Dotty had a severe cold, and her mother, fearing the croup,did not allow her to go out of doors. This was hard for the child. Shefelt very restless, because she had to give up "housekeeping" withPrudy, a very fascinating game, which could only be played on theriver-bank. She looked out of the kitchen window, and saw somecarpenters shingling the barn.

  "O, hum!" she murmured, "I wish grandpa wouldn't mend his barn!"

  A white mist was creeping slowly over the river and the distant hills.

  "There, now," she sighed, "I wish the earth wouldn't _breave_ so hard!"

  Then she went into the parlor, like a little gray cloud.

  "O, dear; I don't like this house, 'cause it's got a top to it! Wish Iwas somewhere else!"

  "Poor child," said Colonel Allen, who was seated on the sofa, lookingout of the bay-window upon the garden; "do you love home better thanthis beautiful spot?"

  "No," replied the little one, shaking her head. "I don't love my home,'cause I live there; I don't love nothin'. O, hum, suz!"

  Then Dotty wandered into the nursery, and stood all alone, leaningagainst the lounge.

  "I shouldn't think my mother'd let me be so cross," mused she.

  She did not cry, for she had learned very young that crying is of nouse; and it may be, too, that she had only a small fountain of tearsback of her eyes. Prudy, entering the nursery in eager haste, for her"bean-bags," was touched at sight of her sister's sad face.

  "There, now, I'll put back my bean-bags, and try to make her happy,"said Prudy to herself. "That will be following the Golden Rule; for it'sdoing unto Dotty as I want Susy to do unto me, when _I'm_ sick."

  She went quietly up to Dotty, who still stood leaning gloomily againstthe lounge. The child turned around with a sudden smile. It cheered herto see Prudy's sweet face, which was always sunny with a halo of happythoughts.

  "Are you real sick, though, Dotty Dimple?"

  "Yes, I are," replied Dotty, well pleased to be asked such a question."I got 'most drowned, you know. O, I wish you'd stayed out in the rainthe other day, and got cold; then you'd have been sick, too."

  Prudy smiled, for she knew that her little sister really had no suchunkind wish at heart. She was only trying, with her limited stock ofwords, to say that she longed to have a little sympathy. It was notoften that Dotty was willing to be pitied.

  "See here, Prudy darling, don't you want a piece of my cough-candy? It'sgood! You may bite clear down to there, where I've scratched with apin."

  "No, thank you, dear, I don't care a bit for it."

  Dotty's face beamed with joyous dimples. It was so pleasant to begenerous, and at the same time keep the candy! In her short life DottyDimple had not quite learned that "the half is better than the whole."

  "Now," said Prudy, after thinking a while, "suppose we play that you'resick,--as you are, you know,--and I'm the doctor."

  Dotty gave a little scream of delight.

  "You may see my tongue," said she, running to the looking-glass; "it'sreal rusty. Can't you scrape it with a knife, Brady?"

  "You must say _doctor_, when you speak to me. Now, my dear patient, it'sbest for you to lie on the lounge, and take medicine in the chest. Pooryoung lady, we shall be so glad when you get your health all well!--Doyou want me to extricate a tooth? Have you any headache, miss?"

  Prudy's voice was low and sympathetic. "Yes, Dr. Prudy," replied thepatient, with a stifled groan; "I've truly got the ache in my head; itpricks through my hair." "I'll tell you the cause of that, my dearpatient; I suspect your pillow's made of pin-feathers. Let me feel yourpulse on the back of your hand--your wrist, I mean. Terrible," moanedthe young doctor, gazing mournfully at the ceiling; "it's stoppedbeating. Can't expect your life now. O, no!"

  "Now you must put your hands behind you, and walk across the room,"suggested Dotty; "that's the way."

  "If my memory preserves me right," continued the young doctor, pacingthe floor, "you've got the--ahem!--pluribus unum." Here Dr. Prudy ranher fingers through her hair. "But it goes light this year--with care,ma'am, you know. So I'll go and stir you up some pills in my marblemortar."

  "O, dear me, doctor; don't you now! Bring me some lemonade and nuts, forI'm drefful sick; but don't bring me no pills nor molters!"

  "Poh, only brown bread, Dotty! what do you suppose?"

  Upon the whole, Miss Dimple, being petted to her heart's content, hadquite a comfortable day of it.

  In the evening she asked,--

  "Mightn't I eat supper, all alone, in the parlor? Once, when I had thesores all wrinkled out on my face, on my chin and round my eyes, allround, _then_ I ate in the parlor."

  Prudy, with her grandmother's consent, carried in a pretty salver, onwhich were a little Wedgewood teapot with hot water, a tiny sugar-bowland creamer, a plate, and cup and saucer, some slices of toast, and aglass of jelly.

  "Thank you a whole heart-full," said Dotty, springing off the sofa;"that little waiter and so forth is real big enough for me."

  Dotty thought "and so forth" meant "cups and saucers." She had heardNorah tell Prudy, when she wished to set the table, that she might puton "the knives and forks, and so forth," and Dotty had noticed that itwas always cups and saucers after the knives and forks.

  "But, Dr. Prudy, there's one thing you've forgot," said the youngpatient; "a little tea-bell, so I can tingle it, and call you in."

  The bell was brought, and while the rest of the family ate in thedining-room, Dotty took her "white tea" in the parlor, in queenly state.

  Prudy had eaten half a thin slice of toast, when the long and sharpringing of the tea-bell summoned her into the parlor.

  "And what would you like, Miss Dimple?" said the remarkably obligingdoctor, with a low bow.

  "More jelly," replied the patient, holding up the empty glass, "and somesquince marmalade."

  After obeying this request, Prudy went back to her supper, and had justfinished her slice of bread, when the bell struck again.

  This time there was "that old spin-wheel in the chimney again,"--so thepatient said,--and a book in the what-not wrong side up, looking "as ifit would choke."

  The book was set right; but the noise in the chimney was too much forthe doctor's skill, since neither she nor any one else knew its cause.

  Next sounded a furious peal of the bell, and a series of loud screamsfrom the little sick girl. She had been dreadfully stung by a bee, whichhad buzzed its way out from the fireboard. Strange to tell, there was aswarm of bees in the chimney, instead of "a spin-wheel."

  Abner at once mounted to the roof of the house, and peeped into thechimney. A nice, cosy beehive it made, filled to the throat with waxencells.

  Dotty bore her sufferings sweetly, being sustained by the promise of alarge box of honey, by and by.

  "Bees have a 'sweet, sweet home,' I think," said Susy.

  "So do ants when they get in the sugar-box," rejoined Prudy.

  As night approached, Dotty showed symptoms of croup.

  "I think," said her grandmother, "it will be the safest way to give hersome castor-oil and molasses; that is what her father used to take whenhe was a little boy."

  Dotty pouted. "Dirty, slippy castor-oil," she cried, shaking herelbows--a thing she seldom did now. "I shan't let it go in my throat.I'll bite my teeth togedder tight."

  "Alice," said her grandmother, "is that the proper way to speak to me?"

  The child's face cleared in a moment.

  "I wasn't a-speakin' to you, grandma," said she, sweetly; "I was atalkin' to the dust-pan."

  "O, Dotty Parlin!" cried Prudy, much distressed. "Nobody ever talked tothe dust-pan, in all the days of their lives! I always thought you werea good girl, Dotty, but now I am afraid you tell false fibs!"

  Dotty clung about Prudy like a sweet pea, and peeped into her eyes witha pleading look.

  "Say, do you love me, Prudy? For I'm goin' to let the oil slip rightdown my throat, just as my papa did when _he_ was
a little boy."

  After swallowing the oil and molasses, Dotty grew very affectionate, andkissed everybody twice, all around. Then she said her prayers, and wentto bed.

  "Mamma," said she, "now smoove me up under my chin, please." She lovedto have the sheet laid straight. "Do you s'pose God will take care o' meto-night, mamma?"

  "Certainly, my darling; you may be very sure He will. Your heavenlyFather never sleeps. He watches over you always."

  "Now, truly, does he?" said the child, pressing her flushed cheekagainst the pillow. "Does he see me in my chubby bed, when the moon'sall dark?

  "O, my suz!" cried she, suddenly, raising her head; "God can take careo' me most always, you know, but I'm drefful afraid something will catchme while he's 'tending to _another_ man!"

  Mrs. Parlin explained to her little daughter, as well as she could, theomnipresence and infinite goodness of God; and while she was stilltalking, in low, soothing tones, the little one fell asleep.

  But about midnight there was a sudden alarm. Lights glanced here andthere over the house, and Susy and Prudy were wakened from a deep sleepby the sound of voices. Dotty had a violent attack of croup.

  "Put me out doors," gasped the poor little sufferer, when she couldspeak at all. "I can't breave if the window's _ever_ so up. Get menearer to the moon. Then I can breave!"

  "It's so dreadful!" sobbed Susy. "I feel real sure she's going to diethis time."

  "O, no, I don't think she will," said Prudy, shaking the tears off hereyelashes. "God took care of me when I had the lameness, and He'll takecare of her. He loves her as much as he loves me."

  "Now just listen to me," returned Susy, pacing the floor of the greenchamber, in her night-dress, while Prudy sat on the edge of the bed."God loves us all; but that's no sign we can't die! Little children, noolder than Dotty, have their breath snatched right away, and are coveredup in the ground, with gravestones at their heads and feet. O, youhaven't the least idea, Prudy. You never think anything can happen!"

  "Well, things don't happen very often, you know, Susy."

  "There, Prudy Parlin, don't talk so! I feel just as if Dotty was goingto die this very night."

  "O, I don't think she will, Susy. But she's God's little girl, and if Hewants her up in heaven He has a right to take her. He never'll take her,though, unless it's best, now certainly."

  "Sit still, Prudy, just as you are. The moon is shining into the window,on your tears, and it seems as if I could almost see a rainbow in youreyes!--There, it's gone now. What makes you talk so queer about God,Prudy? as if you knew a great deal more than I do?"

  "I don't know half as much as you do," replied Prudy; "but I used to lieand think about the Saviour when I had the lameness.--Hark! Is thatDotty laughing? Let's go in and see if she isn't 'most well."

  The child was indeed better; but for the next three nights she sufferedfrom severe attacks of the croup. Her sisters had not known how theyloved her till she showed her frail side, and they saw how slender wasthe thread which bound her to earth. When she was strong, and roguish,and wilful, they forgot that she was only a tender flower after all, andmight be nipped from the stem any time.

  When she was well again, Prudy said to her mother, in confidence, "Itdidn't kill her, the croup didn't, but it might have killed her; and I'mgoing to love her all the time as if she was really dead, and gone toheaven."