CHAPTER IX.
TIN-TYPES.
Mr.Bradley said he did not often allow any one behind his counter, as all the boys in the village could testify; but these young ladies were welcome in any part of the store.
"That little one is the spryest child I ever saw," said the man with the court-plaster, as Flyaway hovered about the candy-jars, like a butterfly over a flower-bed.

"She isn't a Yankee child--is she ?" "No, sir," replied Dotty, quickly; "she is a _westerness_." She had heard Horace use the word, and presumed it was correct.
"I do wish Dotty would be more afraid of strangers," thought Prudy.

"I never will take her anywhere again--with a wheelbarrow." Flyaway fluttered around for a minute, and then alighted upon her favorite sweet-meats, "_pepnits_." She chose for her portion a large amount of these, an harmonica, and a sugar pig, which Dotty assured her was not "colored." "Nothing but pink dots, and those you can pick off." "The rags came to seventy-five cents, and this young lady has now had her third; here is the remainder," said Mr.Bradley, smiling as he gave each of the little Parlins some money, and bowed them out of the store.
"I'll put it in _my_ porte-monnaie, sir; my sister Prudy didn't bring hers." "What makes you talk so much, Dotty Dimple ?" said Prudy, "that man has been making sport of us all the time." "Did he ?" said Dotty, solemnly.

"I'm 'stonished at grandma Parlin letting us sell rags! Wish this wheelbarrow was in the _Stiftic Ocean_." "But it isn't, little sister, and the worst of it is, we've got to take it to the photograph saloon; it's so far home and back again." "Got to take the ole _wheelbarrel_ every single where we go," pouted Flyaway, as drearily as either of her cousins.
"You needn't mind it, though," said Dotty, giving the one-wheeled coach a hard push; "a little girl that's going visiting, and have succotash for dinner." "I didn't know I was.

O, I _am_ so glad! What is it!" "Corn and beans.