CHAPTER VIII.
WASHING THE PIG.
After her grandmother had left the room, Miss Dotty lay on the sofa for five minutes, thinking.
"Then it doesn't make any difference how much anybody cries, or how much they don't cry.

If they are truly sorry, then they won't do it again; that's all." Then she wondered if Jennie Vance had asked her step-mother's pardon.

She thought she ought to talk to Jennie, and tell her how much happier she would feel if she would only try to be a good little girl.
"That child is growing naughty every day of her life," mused Miss Dimple, with a feeling of pity.
There was plenty of time to learn the morning's lesson by heart, for Dotty was obliged to keep very quiet all day.

The thorn had been removed from her foot, but the healing must be a work of time; and more than that, her throat was quite sore.
It seemed as if Susy and Prudy would never come; and when at last their cheerful voices were heard ringing through the house, it was a welcome sound indeed.

They had brought some oranges for Katie and Dotty, with sundry other niceties, from Aunt Martha's.
"Did you know," said Dotty, "I haven't had any breakfast to-day?
I've lost one meal, and I never shall make it up as long as I live; for I couldn't eat two breakfasts, you know." "I'll tell you what we'll do," said Aunt Louise, laughing; "if you'll wake me up at twelve o'clock some night, I'll rise and prepare a breakfast for you, and that will make it all right." Dotty looked at her auntie as if she did not know whether to take her in earnest or not.
"I've been sick at home all day, Prudy," said she; "and I s'pose _you've_ been having a good time." "Splendid! And Lightning Dodger brought us home." "Who's Lightning Dodger ?" "Why, Aunt Martha's horse; don't you know?
They call him that because they say he goes so fast the lightning don't have time to hit him." "O, you don't believe it--do you ?" cried Dotty; "I guess that's poetry." "Little sister," replied Prudy, speaking in a low voice, "don't say 'poetry' ever again.