"Johnny, Johnny, come to the window, quick!" said Dotty; "see this bird!"

"I've seen birds before," replied her little cousin, coolly, and walking as slowly as possible.

"But this one peeps as if he was hurt; see how he pecks to get in."

"Don't you take him in!" exclaimed Angeline, the kitchen girl; "it's a bad sign to have birds come fluttering round a window."

"What do you mean by a sign?" asked Dotty, who had never heard of any silly superstitions in her life.

"Let him alone," cried Johnny, "or you'll die before the week's out, sure's you live!"

Dotty laughed. "A bird can't make me die," said she, seizing the trembling little oriole, and holding him close to her bosom. "O, you birdie darling! Did your mamma go 'way off, and couldn't find a worm? Dotty'll be your mamma, so she will."

She put him in a basket stuffed with rags, and hung over him tenderly for half an hour.

"You're bringing down trouble, I'm afraid, child," said Angeline, gravely, as she walked back and forth, doing her work.

Mrs. Parlin, away off at Willowbrook, was at that moment bathing Mrs. Clifford's forehead. I think she might have dropped the sponge in dismay if she had known what pernicious nonsense was finding its way into Dotty's ears.

Just as Angeline was in the midst of a ghost story, Johnny rushed in again.

"Come," said he, shaking Dotty by the shoulders, "let's go play poison."

"O, no, Johnny. I'm hearing the nicest, awfullest story! And then it rains so, too!"

"Doesn't, either. Only sprinkles. And when it sprinkles, it's a sure sign it isn't going to rain."

"Who told you so?"

"Your grandmother Read. She's a Quaker, and she can't lie. Come, Dot Parlin; if you don't like poison, come out and play soldier."

"I don't want to play a single thing; so there, now, Johnny Eastman!"

"Then you're a cross old party, miss."

"I'm not a party at all. I'm only one girl."

"O, Dotty!" called Prudy from the cellar-way; "take care! take care!"

"So I am taking care," returned Dotty, stoutly. "For my own mother doesn't 'low me to go out doors and get rained on, and he knows it."

It was coming, Prudy feared—her sister's naughty temper. She saw a shadow no larger than a man's hand; but it would not do to let it grow. She must brush it away at once.

"Let's play something in the house," said she, quickly.

"All right," returned Johnny; "only not sit down."

"Yes, let's do sit down," interposed Dotty, with a view to thwarting Johnny.

"Suppose we play Hindoo," suggested Prudy, "if we can get Susy and Flossy into it."

"Play what?"

"Why, play we are Hindoos, and live away off in the Indian Ocean."

"Fishes or sharks?" asked Johnny, growing interested.

"O, people; and they act so queer. Mother played it with us once, when Susy had the toothache."

The older girls were hard to be persuaded. They did not like to leave their shell-work; but they came at last.

"Johnny shall be Joggo," said Susy; "that's a boy's name; Prudy will be 'Drop of Honey,' and Flossy 'Young Beauty,' and Dotty 'Summer Moon,' and I 'Onno.'"

"'Young Beauty' 's the prettiest," said Dotty; "if I can't play that, I'd rather stay with my birdie, and not play."

"Why," cried Susy, "how foo—;" but catching Prudy's eye, she added, "you may as well be Young Beauty; Flossy wouldn't mind. But now I think of it, Prudy, we can't play school, for girls don't go to school in India."

"Make believe you are boys, then," observed Johnny, whose interest in the game had flagged since he knew that Hindoos were not sharks.

"We'll play it's six o'clock in the morning," continued Susy.

"That isn't school time," remonstrated Dotty.

"O, yes, it is, in India. I'm the teacher. Give me a stick, please."

"Here's my old riding-whip," said Flossy, producing it from the wood-box. Things were tucked away in very queer places at Mrs. Eastman's.

Susy tied a string about her waist for a girdle, stuck the whip into it, and began to march the floor with great dignity.

"Now school has begun. You must all come in, and bow 'way down to the ground, and say, 'O, respected teacher, grant us knowledge.' They are very polite in India.—All but Prudy, she may stay behind and play truant."

The three pupils came forward, touched their foreheads to the floor, and repeated the sentence as directed, Johnny rendering it,—

"O, respectful Susy Parlin, don't you whip me!"—at the same time turning a somerset.

"I forgot one thing," said the teacher, as her obedient pupils stood upright again, with flushed faces. "You ought to have brought me a present, every one of you, such as a fig of tobacco rolled up in a banana leaf, or—"

"We didn't know you chewed," said Florence, laughing.

"Now you take your seats. No, not there! On the floor! What do you suppose? You're in India, children. There are mats on the floor (we'll pretend)."

The children seated themselves.

"O, we ought to say a prayer to the Muse; but I can't remember what it is. No matter. Multiplication Table comes next. Mother says it's just the same thing in India that it is in America."

The school repeated part of the table, making very absurd mistakes intentionally. Susy walked the floor like a general. "Angeline, please look up some more palm-leaf fans, and some splinters of wood."

Angeline was the soul of good nature, and left her baking to hunt in the meal-room for the fans.

"A pretty kind of school!" growled Johnny. "Don't they do anything out there in Hindoo but just fan themselves?"

"O, we pretend these fans are green, just off the trees. We are studying arithmetic, all so fast, and ciphering on these leaves with reeds—(that's our splinters). Indian boys don't know what slates are. They think these leaves are good enough. They come off of the tallest palm trees. Fans don't grow in this country. Where did you ever see a leaf as broad as this?"

"Poh, plenty of 'em in Kennebec County!" said Johnny, confidently.

"Now," said the teacher, after a few moments of mock arithmetic, "now I've looked at my watch, and find it's seven o'clock. How conscionable late! And that Drop of Honey hasn't come to school yet! Joggo, you and Young Beauty go and bring her!"

Prudy, who was sitting at a little distance, under a swing-table, eating ginger snaps, was suddenly seized upon by the two little Indian constables.

"Why, what an idea!" said Prudy, with her mouth full; "I didn't know that was the way to play it."

"Yes," said Susy, "truants must come to school. If they don't come they must be arrested."

"Why, I've been a-resting all the time," said Prudy, laughing.

"Well, that doesn't make any difference, Miss Honey Drop," said Johnny, taking her by the shoulders, while Dotty dragged her feet. There was great laughing and scrambling, during which Prudy swallowed a crumb the wrong way, and was finally carried into school on a litter.

"Now, I should judge," said the heartless teacher, looking sternly at the crimson-faced victim, "I should judge that this wicked creature ought to have a terrific whipping!"

"That's so!" shouted Johnny; "we found Honey Drop top of a house, firing mud into a man's eyes."

"Yes, so we did," said Dotty, fully restored to good humor, "black mud; Honey's a bad Nindian. If you can't whip her hard enough, Joggie will help."

"There, now!" said the teacher, after dealing several "love-pats" with great pretended force; "now I should think 'twas time for school to be out. As you go by me, each of you, I must strike you just as many times as you were minutes late. Now go home, and eat rice for your dinners."

"Well, I don't think it's much of a play, any way," said Johnny.

"Who said it was?" retorted Florence. "Susy and I didn't want to come down; we did it just to please you."

"Please me!" sniffed Johnny. "I wanted to play poison, out in the yard!"

"I do wish," thought Susy, privately, "that cousin Flossy would be more polite to little Johnny. I really think he wouldn't be so rude if she would treat him as a lady should."

"There's another play we used to have," said Prudy, "where you sit round on the floor, right among the dishes, and eat your supper."

"Well, I declare for it," said Angeline, "those people off there do need missionaries more than ever I thought they did."

"Yes," replied Susy, "they tell such horrid stories to their little children. The children don't dare go out after dark, for they suppose there are demons up in the high trees, just ready to dart down and whisk them off."

"Angeline tells just such stories her own self," said Dotty.

"Then she's a heathen," said Florence, who usually spoke the first thought that came into her head.

"If that's the case," retorted Angeline, with dignity, "you'd better all walk out of this kitchen before you are entirely ruined."

As Angeline was evidently in earnest, the children slowly took their way into the dining-room.

"Are there real live ghosts, though, Susy?" asked Dotty, anxiously; "and if a bird comes to the window will you die?"

"Why, no, indeed, child! Mother told me once, when I was right little, that I mustn't let people tell me such foolish stories. If Angeline talks so to you, you must stop your ears. Now, remember!"

Dotty remembered; but she was not quite convinced. Those awful stories might be true, after all; perhaps Susy didn't know.