CHAPTER VI.
MAKING POETRY.
But when Prudy had come to bed, Dotty could talk more freely.
"O, dear," said she, hiding her face in her sister's bosom; "I don't want them to laugh at me, but I've lost my boots and my basket, and been dripped in the rain, and got a thorn in my foot too, till it seems as if I should die!" "But you'll never do so again, little sister," said Prudy, who could think of no other consolation to give.
"And lightning besides, Prudy! And she made me throw away my beautiful picnic basket, and she kept hers, and it never hurt her a bit! Don't you think she was just as mean! What makes grandma let me go with her, do you s'pose?
I shall grow real bad! Won't you tell her to stop it ?" Dotty moaned with pain, and between her moans she talked very fast.
"And all this time," said she, "we haven't any ducks!" Prudy, who was dropping off to sleep, murmured, "No." "But it's real too bad, Prudy.

I never saw such a lazy old hen--did you?
Prudy, _did_ you ?" Presently, when Prudy thought it must be nearly morning, there was a clutch upon her shoulder, and a voice cried in her ear,-- "I don't see what makes you go to sleep, Prudy Parlin, when my foot aches so bad! And O, how I want a drink o' water!" Prudy thought she should never find the match-box; but she did at last, and lighted the lamp after several trials.

It was dreary work, though, going down stairs with those sticks in her eyes, to get the water.
Dotty drained the nipperkin at two draughts, and said it wasn't half enough.
"O, you shall have all you want, little sister," said Prudy, kindly; "you may drink up the whole barrel if you like." So down she went again, and this time brought a pitcher.

On her return she found Dotty weeping in high displeasure.
"You told me to drink up that whole barrel, you did," cried the unreasonable child, shaking her head.
"Did I ?" said Prudy; "well, dear, I didn't mean anything." "But you _said_ so--the whole, whole barrel," repeated Dotty rocking back and forth; "you talk to me just as if I--was--black!" "Hush!" said Prudy, "or you'll wake grandma.

Let me see; do you want me to tell you a conundrum?
Why does an elephant carry his trunk ?" "I don't know; I s'pose he can't help it; it grows on the end of his nose." "That isn't the answer, though, Dotty; it's because--because he's a traveller!" "An elephant a traveller?
Where does he travel to?
I don't believe it." "Well," replied Prudy, "I can't see any sense in it myself.