"I thought butter always melted in anybody's mouth.
Does it make my mouth cold to be good, d'ye s'pose ?" "La, me, I don't know," replied the girl, washing a potato vigorously.
"_I_ might wash those potatoes," said Dotty, plucking Norah's sleeve; "do you put soap on them ?" "Not much soap--no." "Well, then, Norah, you shouldn't put _any_ soap on them; that's why I asked; for my mother just washes and rinses 'em; that's the proper way." "For pity's sake," said Norah, giving the little busybody a good-natured push.

"What's going on in the parlor, Miss Dotty?
You'd better run and see.

If you should go in there and look out of the window, perhaps a monkey would come along with an organ." "No, he wouldn't, Norah, and if he did, Prudy'd let me know." As Dotty spoke she was employed in slicing an onion, while the tears ran down her cheeks; but a scream from Norah caused her to drop the knife.
"Why, what is it ?" said Dotty.
"Ugh! It's some horrid little _animil_ crawling down my neck." "Let me get him," cried Dotty, seizing a pin, and rushing at poor Norah, who tried in vain to ward off the pin and at the same time catch the spider.
"_Will_ you let me alone, child ?" "No, no; I want the bug myself," cried Dotty, pricking Norah on the cheek.
"Want the bug ?" "Yes; mayn't I stick him through with a pin from ear to ear?
I know a lady Out West that's making a c'lection of bugs." "Well, here he is, then; and a pretty scrape I've had catching him; thanks be to you all the same, Miss Dimple." As it turned out to be only a hair-pin, Dotty shook her head in disdain, and went on slicing onions.
"Sure now," said Norah, "I should think you'd be wanting to go and see what's become of your sister Prudy.

Maybe she's off on the street somewhere, and never asked you to go with her." "Now you're telling a hint," exclaimed Dotty, making a dash at a turnip.
"I know what you mean by your monkeys and things; you want to get me away.

It's not polite to tell hints, Norah; my mamma says so." But as Dotty began to see that she really was not wanted, she concluded to go, though she must have it seem that she went of her own accord, and not because of Norah's "hints." "Did you think it was a buggler, when I opened the cellar-door last night, Norah ?" "No; I can't say as I did--not when I looked at you," replied Norah, gravely.
"'Cause I'm going into the parlor to ask mother if _she_ thought I was a buggler.