"The END of Nettie Herbert."

"Oh, dear me!" she sighed, when she had finished, "I am tired of writin'
books; Dumps, sposin' you make up 'bout the 'Bad Little Girl,' an' I'll
write it down jes like you tell me."

"All right," assented Dumps, once more leaving her dolls, and coming to
the table. Then, after thinking for a moment, she began, with great
earnestness:

"Once pun er time there was er bad little girl, an' she wouldn't min'
nobody, nor do no way nobody wanted her to; and when her mother went ter
give her fyssick, you jes ought ter seen her cuttin' up! _she_ skweeled,
an' _she_ holler'd, an' _she_ kicked, an' she jes done ev'y bad way she
could; an' one time when she was er goin' on like that the spoon slipped
down her throat, an' choked her plum ter death; an' not long after that,
when she was er playin' one day--"

"Oh, but, Dumps," interrupted Diddie, "you said she was dead."

"No, I nuver said nuthin' 'bout her bein' dead," replied Dumps; "an' ef
you wrote down that she's dead, then you wrote a story, 'cause she's
livin' as anybody."

"You said the spoon choked her to death," said Diddie.

"Well, hit nuver killed her, anyhow," said Dumps; "hit jes only give her
spasums; an' now you've gone and put me all out; what was I sayin'?"