Dotty was pattering up stairs.
"Didn't know I was sewing with a dar'needle--did you, mamma?
Mayn't I go to Fanny Harlow's party ?" Mrs.Parlin was busy with visitors, and did not pay much heed to her little daughter.

So Dotty crept close to her mother's side, and buried her roguish face behind her head-dress.
"Wish you'd please to punish me, mamma," said she; "punish me now; I'm _a-goin_' to be naughty ?" Mrs.Parlin smiled, and reminded Dotty that it was not polite to whisper in company.

Then she went on talking with her friends, and Miss Dimple slipped quietly out of the room.
"I know I don't ought to," mused the child; "I'm a-goin' to do wicked, and get punished; but I _want_ to do wicked, and get punished.

I've been goody till I'm all tired up!" Having made this decision, she went to Prudy's closet, and looked at the dresses hanging wrong side outward on the pegs.
"This is a booful one," said she, pulling down a scarlet merino.

She put on the dress, forgetting, in her guilty haste, to take off her own blue one.
"O, my suz! I never did see!" said Dotty, puffing and tugging in her efforts to fasten the frock.