"April Fools! April Fools!" exclaimed all the children together,--all except Dorcas. "It's the best fool I ever heard of," said William Parlin; "but how did you do it, sir?" "Yes, explain yourself," said James and Rachel. "Was mother in the secret?" "No; but Dorcas was. Let go my hair, James, and I'll speak.--Fact is, I happened to find that rag baby out there on the scaffold this afternoon with that pocket on its neck, and so I dreamed a dream to suit myself." "Yes," said Dorcas; "and I told him just how Israel Crossman looked, and all about Siller Noonin, and didn't he say it off like a book?" "Wasn't it a dream, then?" asked little Patty. "No, dear; it was only nonsense." "Well, then, I didn't put my dolly out there,--did I?" "Yes, of course you did," said her mother; "only you have forgotten it." But Patty looked puzzled. She could not recollect that ever so long ago, the day the beggar girl came to the house, she had cured Polly Dolly Adaline's sore throat with her mother's quilted pocket, and then had carried the sick dolly out to the barn, "so she could get well faster where there wasn't any noise." No, Patty could not recollect this, and the whole thing was a mystery to her. "Children," said Mrs. Lyman, looking up from her stockings, as soon as there was a chance to speak, "I have one word to say on this subject: whenever you hear of signs and wonders, don't believe in them till you've sifted them to the bottom. And when you've done that, mark my words, you'll find there's no more substance to them than there is to Francis Starbird's April Fool Dream." "True," said Rachel and James; and then, as half a dozen of the younger ones had gone out, they had a quiet talk, five or six of them, round the fire, and Patty went to sleep sitting on Mr. Starbird's knee. CHAPTER XIV. SPINNING. So Patty had her dollar back; and now what to do with it was the question. She thought of a great many things to buy, but always grew tired of them before she had fairly made up her mind. At last she went to her mother, and said, "Mamma, I'm only a little girl, and don't know much; won't you please tell me what to get?" "Do you really wish me to decide for you, my dear? And will you be satisfied with my choice?" "Yes, mamma, I truly will be satisfied. But--but--you don't want to give my dollar to the heathens--do you? It's all clear silver, and I s'pect _coppers_ just as good for those heathens, mamma." "What makes you think copper is just as good, my child?" "Because that's what people put into the box; and when they put any silver in, it's in little bits of pieces. I don't s'pect the heathens know the difference." Mrs. Lyman smiled, though at the same time she was sorry to think how selfish people are, and how little they are willing to give away. "Let me ask you a question, dear. How would you like to have me carry this dollar to Mrs. Chase and Mrs. Potter, and tell them my little girl sent it for them to give to some poor child?"