"Won't you light the la-amp?"

"No, we will not," said Dotty, firmly.

"Won't you light the la-amp?"

"Is this what we came to New York for?" moaned Dotty; "to be waked up in
the middle of the night by folks singing?"

"Won't you light the la-amp?"

"I'll pack my dresses, and go right home! I'll--I'll have Fly Clifford
sleep out o' this room. Why, I--I--"

"Won't you light the la-amp?"

Prudy sprang out of bed, convulsed with laughter, and lighted the gas;
whereupon Fly began to dance "Little Zephyrs," on the pillow, and Dotty
to declare her eyes were put out.

"Little try-patiences, both of them," thought Prudy; "but then they've
always had their own way, and what can you expect? I'm so glad I wasn't
born the youngest of the family; it does make children _so_
disagreeable!"

As soon as Dotty was fairly awake, her love for her friends came back
again, and her good humor with it. She made Fly bleat like a lamb and
spin like a top, and applauded her loudly.