You begin to see how the children were running wild at Mrs. Eastman's. One morning Dotty climbed the hat-tree to get away from her cousin Percy.

"Don't believe 'cousin Dimple' knows a hat-tree wasn't made for little girls to sit on," said Percy.

"No, 'twas made to swing on," replied Dotty, tilting herself backward and forward like a bird on a bough. "I'm going to stay here till somebody carries me off pick-aback."

Percy, having nothing better to do, took his little cousin on his shoulders, danced her about the hall and through the house, and finally tossed her backward into a pile of shavings. Dotty sprang up, shook off the shavings, and ran after Percy, laughing so boisterously that Angeline said to the chambermaid,—

"I know of one person that will be glad when Mrs. Parlin gets back."

"And I know of another," replied Janey. "The child behaved like a lady when she first came; but what can you expect in this house with those boys?"

"How's that bird?" said Percy, as he and Dotty raced through the kitchen. "Can he stand on both legs yet?"

"Yes, indeed! He could stand on three legs if he had 'em. He's most well—I must go and 'tend to him."—("I wonder what's going to happen that's bad," thought she, as she fed the bird in her own chamber with cream biscuit. "I hope it isn't a fire!")—"Why, Johnny Eastman, I shouldn't think your mamma'd let you scream so loud!"

"Then you must hear the first time. Come, let's go out and have some fun; mother's gone to Cumberland."

As if Johnny did not have fun all day, and every day, whether his mother was at home or abroad!

"Prudy," said Dotty, "good by, for Johnny 'n' I are going down to the beach to get some shells."

Prudy looked up from her writing.

"Don't go near the water," said she; then throwing her arms about her little sister, she sang,—

"Well, I do," replied Dotty, with an affectionate hug, "and I sha'n't go near the water."

"You won't forget?" said Prudy, anxiously. "You know mamma's as afraid of the water as she can be."

"What are you after?" cried Angeline, half a minute afterwards. "Of all the rummaging children!" At the same time she gave Dotty a nice cake warm from the oven.

"I'm looking for my hat," said the little girl, shutting the sink door. "Last time I saw it 'twas in a barrel somewhere."

But it happened to be in a hogshead.

"I think this is a real nice sort of world," thought Dotty, as she and Johnny trudged off in the pleasant sunshine. "I do think, just to myself—though I wouldn't say it out loud—that I'm as nice as anybody. I don't know what Prudy'd do 'thout me; and I guess Susy'd cry her eyes out!"

"What you thinking about?" said Johnny.

"O, 'bout a good many things! Let's run; it tires me to pieces to walk!"

"Look!" cried Johnny, "there's Mandoline!"

And such a pretty sight as bareheaded Mandoline presented! She was a little Jewess, with such beauty, perhaps, as that of the women we read about in the Bible. She had dark, wavy hair, like sea-foam with ink tipped over in it. Her eyes were like gems; there was a brilliant color in her cheeks, and her mouth was so sweet that

Dotty did not know why she liked Mandoline so well, but like her she did. Mrs. Parlin was afraid Mandoline had not been taught to respect the truth, and had often desired her little daughter not to play with the beautiful Jewess.

But "Lina" went to Mrs. Eastman's, and Mrs. Eastman petted her. Dotty thought it could not be wrong to associate with a little girl her auntie liked so well.

"Come with us, Lina," said Johnny.

"Where are you going?"

"Going to make a Bunger Hill Monuement," replied Dotty. "We know where the shells grow real thick."

"But I've lost my shaker. A dog's got it."

"O, no matter, you don't care," said Dotty, in a grandmotherly tone, "for I won't let anybody laugh at you."

Lina yielded. The three children tripped along together, taking up Freddy Jackson on the way—a deaf and dumb boy, who only knew when it thundered by the jar he could feel. Everybody was kind to Freddy. Dotty Dimple, with all her faults, was never known to be impatient with the poor boy.

The children reached the sea-shore, which was somewhere "near the water," though Dotty had assured Prudy to the contrary. Shell-gathering is more exciting work than picking strawberries in the country; for strawberries are all very much alike, whereas shells present some variety.

But in this instance it was very dull business, for the reason that there were no shells to be found. They had all become weary of groping about in the sand, when Johnny looked at the bay, and observed a boy coming towards them, rowing a boat.

"Hilloa, there!" shouted the boy.

"Hilloa!" responded Johnny. "If that isn't Sol Rosenberg!" (This was Mandoline's brother.) "Where you going, Sol?"

"Nowhere particular. Get in and go too?"

"Yes," said Johnny, "Fred Jackson and I. Fred can steer as straight's a needle. I'll paddle, you know."

"Girls too," added Solomon, gallantly.

With one accord the children walked eagerly towards the boat, which, by this time, Solomon had moored against the beach. All but Dotty.

"Are you old enough, Solly Rosenberg, old enough and know enough not to drown us all to pieces?"

Young Solomon laughed.

"If I can't manage a small concern like this!"

"But four, and one more, make five, Solly!"

"You don't say so! Well, I could carry sixteen, if they were all such little snips as you are!"

"Dot Parlin thinks she weighs as much as two tons," said Johnny, in an irritating tone.

"I'm dreadful 'fraid," murmured the little Jewess, shaking the wayward hair out of her magnificent eyes; "but I'll go if you will, Dotty Dimple."

Dotty shoved her feet into the sand and reflected.

"My mamma is afraid of the water; but then she was upset in a scursion, and that's why she's afraid."

"What kind of thing is a scursion?" asked Johnny.

"A Sabbath school picnic. And she wasn't upset either, only she 'xpected to be."

"Come on!" called Solly. "All aboard!"

"But my mamma said it wasn't safe!"

"No, she didn't. She never saw this boat; she doesn't know whether it's safe or not."

"Doesn't it leak a single speck, Solly Rosenberg? It looks wet."

"Pshaw! That's where the waves come in; it's as tight as the bark to a tree."

Dotty was becoming very eager to go. It sometimes did seem, when she really wished to do any particular thing, that she wished it more than any one else.

"But, O dear! my mamma doesn't 'low me to sail."

This was spoken sorrowfully; but there was a little wavering in the tone. Dotty had taken the first false step; she had listened to the voice of temptation, and every persuasive word of Solly's left her weaker than it had found her.

"My mamma doesn't ever 'low me to sail."

"You couldn't sail in a wherry if you were to try," said Johnny. "Come, Sol, don't stop to bother: who wants girls? They just spoil the fun."

"For shame!" said the more polite Solomon, drawing himself up and looking very manly; "the girls shall go if they want to. Only just round the curve."

Dotty liked Solly at that moment very much. She looked at her ill-mannered little cousin with royal disdain, and walked slowly and cautiously on towards the boat. Lina followed at a little distance. Her mother had also forbidden her to go on the water, and had declared that Solomon was too young to manage a boat; but neither Lina nor her brother had very tender consciences. If they did wrong things, and nobody knew it, it was all very well; but if they were found out—ah! then was the time to be sorry! Dotty's conscience had been much better educated than theirs: it gave her plenty of warning, which she would not heed, and tried to stifle by talking.

"It isn't a sail boat. When my mamma went in the scursion, then it was a sail boat, and the wind whistled so the sails shook dreadfully. My mamma never talked to me about wherries; she didn't ever say I mustn't go in a wherry."

While Dotty was still talking, she entered the boat, the last of the five. She seated herself, but was annoyed to find her dainty gaiters sinking into a pool of dirty water. She lifted her feet, but could not keep them up. Well, perhaps she shouldn't have the sore throat after all; she couldn't help it now if she did have it. At any rate she was determined not to complain, when Solly had been so very polite.

"Isn't this prime?" said Johnny, as they launched out upon the water.

The motion was certainly pleasant, and for a few moments Dotty was quite delighted, thinking over and over again,—

"Mamma won't care; it's nothing but a wherry, and the wind doesn't blow."

Then she suddenly remembered her promise to Prudy, not to go "anywhere near the water."

"And I never thought I should. I never s'posed I should see Solly Rosenberg. I didn't know he was in this city. Prudy'd like it just as well as I do, if she was in here, and knew 'twas a wherry."