I hope you do not mean to frolic all your life?
What were little girls made for, do you think ?" Dotty reflected a moment.
"What are little girls made for, sir?
Why, they are made to play, 'cause they can't play when they grow to be ladies." The major laughed.
"Pretty well said! You're rather too shrewd for such an 'old mustache' as I.So little girls are made to play?
Then suppose we two have a game.
Let us play chip-chop." Dotty was becoming sleepy, but aroused herself, and patted her little soft hands as hard as she could, tossing them hither and thither, sometimes hitting her companion's thumb, sometimes his little finger.
Major Lazelle laughed, and then she laughed too; for when he tried to strike her hands, he said it was like aiming at a pair of rose-leaves fluttering in the air.
The chip-chop was a complete failure; but it had set them both in great glee.

If truth be told, they became excessively rude.
"Now, sir," said Dotty, as they ran across the room, playing a game of romps, "if you do catch me again, I'll--O, dear, I don't know what I'll do!" Mr.Parlin looked up from his letter a little annoyed, for the floor was shaking so that he could scarcely write.
"Do not be rude, my daughter," said he, though he knew very well the major was really the one to be chided.
But his warning came a minute too late.

Major Lazelle had caught Dotty, and she had thrown up both hands to clutch at his hair.

She meant to give it one desperate pulling; she did not care if she hurt him a little; she even hoped he might cry out and beg her to stop.
But the oddest thing happened.

If she had gone to bed at the usual time, and fallen asleep, then this would have been her dream.