Close beside it was another lesson, still more wholesome.
"Dotty Dimple isn't the best girl that ever lived.

She had to be talked to and talked to, before she was willing to do right.

She isn't any better than Jennie Vance, after all.

Why did she pray that naughty prayer, just to make Jennie feel bad?
God must have thought it was very strange!" Grandma saw that Dotty's "blues" were dissolving like a morning mist; still she knew the child was in need of patchwork, and told her so.
"Let us all take our work," said she, "and sit together in the nursery, so we may forget the dull weather." Grace brought her pique apron down stairs to make, Susy her tatting, Prudy a handkerchief, Dotty a square of patchwork, while Flyaway danced about for a needle and thread.
"What a happy group!" said Mrs.Clifford, looking up from her sewing.
She had forgotten Polly Whiting, who was mournfully toeing off a sock for Horace, while he sat on the floor, at her feet, mending her double-covered basket.
"Why, Katie, darling," said Grace, "what are you doing with that beautiful ribbon ?" "Aunt Louise said I might make a bag, Gracie--" "Seems to me aunt Louise lets you do everything; I shouldn't want you to spoil that ribbon." "They shan't bother my little Topknot," said Horace, with a sweep of his thumb.

"She is going to have all my clothes to make bags of, when she grows up." Flyaway, who knew she had a good right to the ribbon, pressed her eyelids together slowly.
"If I's Gracie," said she, severely, "I'd make aprons; if I's mamma I'd sew dresses; if I's Flywer, I'd do just's I want to." And then she went on sewing; without any thimble.
"Girls, have you guessed yet why a wheelbarrow is like a potato ?" "No, Horace; why is it ?" "O, I was in hopes you could tell.