"O, dear me! you ask such queer questions that I can't answer them, Dotty
Dimple. All I know is this: everything happens just right in this
world--_when you can't help it_."

With which sage remark Prudy stepped out of bed, and began to dress
herself. Dotty planted her elbow in the pillow, and leaned her head
on her hand.

"I don't believe it happens just right for Mrs. Rosenberg to keep that
dog, or to thump so with a thimble; but, then, I don't know."

"I'm hurrying to get dressed," said Prudy. "The first bell has rung."

"Why, I never heard it," cried Dotty, springing up. "I wouldn't be late
to-day for anything."

Prudy looked anxiously at her little sister to see if she was cross; but
her face was as serene as the cloudless sky; she had waked up right, and
meant to be good all day. When Dotty had one of her especially good days,
Prudy's cup of happiness was full. She ran down stairs singing,--

"Thank God for pleasant weather!
Shout it merrily, ye hills,
And clap your hands together,
Ye exulting little rills.

"Thank him, bird and birdling,
As ye grow and sing;
Mingle in thanksgiving,