"I believe you've broken me," cried Dotty; for, though Katie was small,
her weight pressed heavily.

"Well, Fibby's broke sumpin too," replied she, calmly. "What does lamps
wear?"

"I s'pose you mean chimneys."

"Yes, Fibby has did it; she's broke a chimley."

"Look up here, little Ruffleneck; you're an honor to the state," said
brother Horace, proudly. "You don't find such a 'cute child as this in
Yankee land, Dotty Dimple."

"You musn't call me a Yankee," said Dotty, who never liked Horace's tone
when he used the word. "I'm not a Yankee; I'm a 'Publican!"

"Hurrah for you!" shouted Horace, swinging his hat; "hurrah for Miss
Parlin Number Three!"

"Dear, dear! what have I said now? I don't want him to hurrah for me,"
thought Dotty.

Horace returned to his manners.

"She's such a firebrand that I like to make her eyes flash; but we must
be polite to visitors; so here goes."

"Cousin Dotty," said he aloud, dropping his mocking tones, and speaking
very respectfully, "if you are a true Republican, I honor you as such,