In the watering trough! Not drowned, because the water was not deep enough! "I was trying to srim," said she, as they drew her out; "and THAT'S what is it." Even Miss Polly smiled at the dripping little figure with hair clinging close to its head; but Flyaway looked very solemn.
"It makes me povokin'," said she, knitting her brows, "to have you laugh at me!" "It would look well in you, Dotty," said Miss Polly, "to pay more attention to this baby, and let your teeth alone." Dotty twisted a lock of her front hair, and said nothing; but she remembered her grandmother's last words,--"Alice, I depend upon you to amuse your little cousin, as your Aunt Maria told you.

You know you can make her very happy when you please." "Seems to me," thought Dotty, "that baby might grow faster and have more sense.

_I_ never got into a watering-trough in my life!--Why, how dark it is! Hark!" said she, aloud; "what is that rattling against the windows ?" For she heard "the driving hail Upon the window beat with icy flail." "That is hail," replied Polly--"frozen drops of rain." "Why Miss Polly," said Dotty, giving a fierce twitch at her tooth, "rain can't freeze the least speck in the summer.

You don't mean to tell a wrong story, but you've made a mistake." "Her's made a 'stake," said Katie.
"Now, look, Polly, it's stones! They're pattering, clickety-click, all over the yard.

Dear, dear! The grass will look just like the gravel-path, and the windows will crack in two." "Never you mind," said Polly, knitting as usual; "if it does any harm, 'twill only kill a few chickens." Upon this there was another wail; for next to ducks Dotty loved chickens.