"Ned and Polly and Jim did, but not me."
"Little Dot," cried Tom, hugging the small creature, "so they wanted to
get rid of you, did they! Well, you shall come home with me; and, Dot,
you shall begin to have birthdays to-morrow!"
"And some bread and dripping to-night--all across the loaf?" Dot asked
anxiously.
"Yes, Dot, lots of times across the loaf if you want it."
"I will sell feather brushes for you," said Dot with enthusiasm.
Tom laughed. He had never laughed before all the summer through.
When Tom and Dot reached the mill it was quite dark, and Dot had to
stand still in the doorway while the miller lit his candle. When the
candle was lit the first thing Dot saw was the little brown mouse
scudding across the table. She clapped her hands with delight, for she
was not a bit afraid of mice. But the noise she made frightened the
mouse, and it ran into its hole and never came out again all that night.
[Illustration: Mouse at mouse-hole]
Tom slept on a heap of flour bags, for you see he had tucked Dot up
snugly in his bed; but he slept soundly and well, for it is not so much
the kind of bed we lie on, as the thoughts we lie down with, that give
us pleasant sleep, and of all thoughts the best is that of having done
some good and unselfish action in the day.
Dot proved uncommonly useful next morning. Tiny creature though she
was, she was quite learned in domestic affairs. She lit the fire and
tidied up the room before Tom was even awake.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25