"But look, mamma; here he is, shaking out his feathers, all bright and
happy again. O, you cunning little Dandy, now we'll hang you up in the
sun to dry. See him hop on one foot; that is just to make me laugh."

"But _I_ hop on one foot, too," said little Prudy, "and you don't laugh
at me."

"This is a droll little head for fancies," said Mrs. Parlin, patting
Prudy's curls, and looking at grandma Read. "Do you know, mother, that
for several days she has made believe she was lame Jessie, and has
hobbled about whenever she could think of it."

"Now you mustn't laugh," said Prudy, looking up with a grieved face; I
can't never help hopping; I _have_ to hop. My knee was so sick, I cried
last night, and I was just as _wide-awakeful_!"

"Ain't thee afraid the child has been hurt in some way, my daughter?"
said grandma Read.

"O, no, mother," said Mrs. Parlin, smiling, as Prudy limped out of the
room. "I have examined her knee, and there is nothing the matter with
it. She is only imitating that lame child. You know Prudy has all sorts
of whims. Don't you know how she has wanted us to call her Jessie
sometimes?"

"Why, no, indeed, grandma, she isn't lame," said Susy, laughing.
"Sometimes she will run about the room as well as I do, and then, in a
few minutes, when she thinks of it, she will limp and take hold of
chairs. Mother, isn't it just the same as a wrong story for Prudy to act