"You needn't be sorry. What did I tell you when you took that bird into the window? I knew something would happen; but didn't know as it would be a boat-wreck exactly." Dotty, and even Prudy, had received some very foolish ideas from Angeline. The Portland fire had affected the Parlin family in more ways than one; and it would be long before the three little girls would settle into their usual quiet habits again. CHAPTER IX. THE NEW HOME. "Prudy," said Dotty, "you needn't say that word 'wherrying' to me any more. Mamma said there mus'n't anybody tease me about that, because I've--I've repented it all up." "O, I'm so glad!" replied Prudy. "I'll never take another bird into the window," continued Dotty; "it's almost as bad as a ghost." "You never saw a ghost, Dotty. Nobody ever did." "Yes, indeed; Angeline has seen 'em as thick as spatter! They come when you're asleep, and there don't anybody know it. I shouldn't dare open my eyes in the night. They're wrapped in a sheet, all white, and their eyes snap like fire. Angeline says they do." "I don't believe it," said Prudy, stoutly; "my mother told me 'twasn't true." "P'r'aps mamma doesn't wake up in the night," said Dotty, "and p'r'aps the ghosts never come where she is. Why, Prudy, they're made out o' nothing! If you stick a knife into 'em it goes right through, and don't touch their blood, for they haven't got any blood. They don't care for knives--they're just like bubbles." "I don't believe it," replied Prudy, again. "I think it's wicked. My mother wouldn't like it if she knew how much you sat in Angeline's lap and talked about ghosts. _I_ don't want to see any or hear any." "I do, though!" cried Dotty. "I shouldn't be afraid--the leastest speck. I'd go right up to 'em, and, said I, 'How do you do, sir?' And then they would melt like a wink. It blows 'em right out the moment you speak." "Does it, though?" said Johnny, who had been listening at the door. "You don't say so! Call me when you see your ghostses, and let me talk to 'em too." "And _me_! What _is_ um?" said wee Katie, toddling in with her mouth full of candy. "There, there!" cried Dotty Dimple, "you've been a-listening, Johnny Eastman." "Don't care! 'Tisn't so bad as being a tell-tale, Miss!" said Johnny, ending the sentence in a naughty tone. "Why, Johnny, you mus'n't say that!" "Why, Johnny," echoed Katie, "you _musser_ say _that_!" "Say what?" "Say _Miss_." The children all laughed at this. "Come, little ones," said Mr. Parlin, appearing at the door, "put on your hats; we are ready to start." Prudy clapped her hands--an action which cousin Percy did not consider very polite. "It shows," said he, "how glad you are to leave us." "O, but we are going _home_, you know, Percy! Only think of having a home to go to!" "It isn't the burnt one, though," remarked Dotty, as she danced off the door-step; "and I 'spect I'll never see that darling little tea-set any more."