Prudy made sure the wheelbarrow was safe, and then turned to arrange her little cousin.
"Here, put your hands down in your lap." Up went the little hands to the flossy hair.

"It won't stay, Prudy, _or nelse_ you tie it." "I shall brush it, the very last minute, Flyaway.

All you must do is sit still.

Mayn't she look at your watch, sir, just to keep her eyes from moving ?" "No matter what she looks at," replied the artist; "but she must keep that little head of hers straight." His tone was firm; he hoped to awe her into quietness.

Flyaway was frightened, and clung to Prudy for protection.