Once there were three little girls, and they all travelled round with a wheelbarrow.

By and by they came to a man's house on wheels." "Yes," said Flyaway, starting up; "I 'member." "And the wee girl, with dove's eyes--" "O, O, that's me!" "She couldn't keep still, and couldn't get any picture." "No, _tin-tybe_; 'cause--'cause--" "And all the while there was something in the man's house they kept breathing into their noses, and it made them grow sleepy." "Just so ?" asked Flyaway, sniffing.
"Yes; and by and by the little one with dove's eyes was as stupid as that woman you saw lying down in the street with the pig looking at her." "Me?
Was I a _drunken_ ?" said Flyaway, in a subdued tone.
"O, no," put in Dotty; "it wasn't whiskey, it was _either_; and I didn't know much more than you did, Fly Clifford.

That was why I lost your money, Prudy; I just about know it was." Flyaway began to understand.

The look of fear and distrust went out of her eyes, and she threw her arms round her mother's neck, kissing her again and again.
"_'Haps_ I did go to aunt Marfie's, mamma; _'haps_ I was asleep!" "That's right, Miss Topknot," cried Horace; "now your brother'll carry you pickaback." A little while afterward Mrs.Clifford began a letter to her husband.
"I am going to tell papa about his little girl--that she is very well." "O, no, you needn't, mamma," said Flyaway, laughing; "papa knows it.

I was well at home." "What shall I tell him, then ?" Flyaway thought a moment.
"Tell him all the folks doesn't tell lies," said she, earnestly; "only but the naughty folks tells lies." So that was settled; and Flyaway decided to write off the whole story, and send to her father--a mixture of little sharp zigzags, curves, and dots.