The effect upon the lady visitor was quite startling.

She started, smiled, rose from her chair, and held out her hand.
"Now tell me if this isn't Miss Prudy Parlin.

I have seen your picture, my love." What eyes, to spy out a likeness under all the flour and furbelows, not to mention the green spectacles! Prudy quivered like a frightened mouse, but could not get away, for a trap was sprung upon her; a steel-gloved hand was holding her fast.
"I am Madam Pragoffyetski, a Polish runaway.

You may not have heard of me, but I know all about Prudy and little Thistledown Flyaway." "Nicely, thank you, m'm," responded Miss Fly, in a voice as faint as the peep of a chicken; at the same time darting forward and tearing a piece out of her slip.

"If she runned away I'd be 'shamed to tell of it." "How awful for her to come here!" thought Mother Hubbard, stealing a timid glance at the lady's ermine muff.