"For mercy's sake," said she, "I have got my hands full now; and when you
are round, Miss Dotty, and have one of your good fits, it seems as if I
should fly."

"What do you mean by a good fit?"

"Why, you have spells, child--you know you do--when butter wouldn't melt
in your mouth."

"Do I?" said Dotty. "I thought butter always melted in anybody's mouth.
Does it make my mouth cold to be good, d'ye s'pose?"

"La, me, I don't know," replied the girl, washing a potato vigorously.

"_I_ might wash those potatoes," said Dotty, plucking Norah's sleeve;
"do you put soap on them?"

"Not much soap--no."

"Well, then, Norah, you shouldn't put _any_ soap on them; that's why I
asked; for my mother just washes and rinses 'em; that's the proper way."

"For pity's sake," said Norah, giving the little busybody a good-natured
push. "What's going on in the parlor, Miss Dotty? You'd better run and
see. If you should go in there and look out of the window, perhaps a
monkey would come along with an organ."

"No, he wouldn't, Norah, and if he did, Prudy'd let me know."

As Dotty spoke she was employed in slicing an onion, while the tears ran