S'an't give Prudy no supper--will you?
'Cause Prudy runned away!" "I should not have allowed this child to come," said Mrs.Parlin, at the tea table; "but cousin Percy always picks up the stray babies, and gives them a ride." Dotty looked as if she could easily forgive her cousin Percy.

But there was one thing that made her nice supper taste like "spoiled nectar," and that was the sight of Prudy enjoying her strawberries and cream.
If she had runned away, as Dotty insisted upon believing, why was she not shut up in the closet?
Strange to say, dearly as Dotty loved this kind sister, she enjoyed seeing her punished.

She was vexed because Prudy was allowed, after all, to sit at the table with the rest of the family.

The little creature was very tired, for she had driven ducks all the long summer day.

She was also a little sleepy; and, more than all, it was one of her "temper days," when everything went wrong.
After tea she had a serious quarrel with her little cousin Johnny, over a dead squirrel, which they both tried to feed with sugared water, from a teaspoon.
"Johnny," cried she, "don't you touch his mouf any more! If you do, I s'an't w'ip you, Johnny, but I'll sp'inkle some ashes on your head! Yes, I will." Johnny, heedless of the threat, tried again to force open Bunny's stiff mouth, Dotty's beautiful eyes blazed.
Without a word she walked off proudly to the kitchen, and came back with a handful of cold ashes, which she freely sifted into Johnny's flaxen hair.