"I will talk with her, and try to make her willing to give you some of hers in return." Ah, grandma Parlin, you little knew what you were undertaking when you called Dotty Dimple into the back parlor next morning, and began to talk about that money! Children's minds are strange things.

They are like bottles with very small necks; and when you pour in an idea, you must pour very slowly, a drop at a time, or it all runs over.

Dotty did not know much more about money than Flyaway.
"My child," said her grandmother, "it seems you have lost something which belonged to Prudy." Dotty looked up carelessly from the picture of a rose she held in her hand, which she meant to adorn with yellow paint.
"O, yes 'm; you mean that money." "There are several things you don't know, Dotty; and one is, that you have no right to lose other people's things." "No 'm." "The money you dropped out of your porte-monnaie, yesterday, was Prudy's, not yours; and what are you going to do about it ?" "Let me see; my mother'll come to-morrow; I'll ask her to give me some more." "But is that right?
Dotty lost the money; must not Dotty be the one to give it back ?" "O, grandma, I can't find it! The wind blew it away, or a horse stepped on it.

I can't find it, certainly." "No; but you have money of your own.

You can give some of that to Prudy." "Why-ee!" moaned Dotty.