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قراءة كتاب Dotty Dimple At Home

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Dotty Dimple At Home

Dotty Dimple At Home

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME.

 

By SOPHIE MAY,
AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES."

 

Illustrated.

 

BOSTON:
LEE AND SHEPARD.
1870.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by
BY LEE AND SHEPARD,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

ELECTROTYPED AT THE
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY,
NO. 19 SPRING LANE.

TO

FLORENCE BICKNELL.


DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES.

To be completed in six vols. Handsomely Illustrated.
Each vol., 75 cts.

1. DOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER'S.
2. DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME.
3. DOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST.
4. DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY.
5. DOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL.
6. DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY.


BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

LITTLE PRUDY STORIES.

Now complete. Six vols. 24mo. Handsomely Illustrated.
In a neat box. Per vol., 75 cts. Comprising

LITTLE PRUDY.
LITTLE PRUDY'S SISTER SUSIE.
LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE.
LITTLE PRUDY'S COUSIN GRACE.
LITTLE PRUDY'S STORY BOOK.
LITTLE PRUDY'S DOTTY DIMPLE.


CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE
I.   The Lion and the Lamb. 7
II.   A Sad Story. 25
III.   Fire. 40
IV.   Playing Hindoo. 54
V.   Running Wild. 68
VI.   How It Ended. 82
VII.   Telling of It. 98
VIII.   Mamma and "Little Me." 112
IX.   The New Home. 125
X.   A Surprise. 140
XI.   Johnny's Revenge. 155

DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME.


CHAPTER I.
THE LION AND THE LAMB.

Dotty Dimple, after a night of pleasant sleep, greeted herself in the morning with a groan. It was as if she had said,—

"O, dear! you here again, Dotty? Why didn't you sleep longer?"

Prudy noticed the cloud on her sister's face in a moment; she saw she had "waked up wrong."

Now I have never told you how peculiarly trying it was to live with Dotty Dimple. She seemed to have, at the same time, the nature of a lion and a lamb. When the lion raged, then her eyes blazed, and she looked as if she belonged in a menagerie; but when nothing occurred to rouse her wild temper, she was as gentle and tender as a little lamb frisking by its mother's side on a summer's day.

Indeed, if I were to describe the loveliness of her manners, and the sweetness of her face, I ought to dip my pen in liquid sunshine; whereas, the blackest of ink would not be at all too dark to draw her picture when she was out of temper.

In her earliest childhood it had been worse than it was now. Then she had not tried in the least to control herself, and the lion had had his own way. After one of her wild outbursts, she would follow her mother about the house, saying, in a soft, pleading voice,—

"Say, mamma, is I your little comfort?"

Before answering Dotty, the poor mother had to call to mind all the good things the child had ever said or done, and fancy how dreadful it would be to lose her. Then she would reply,—

"Yes, Dotty, you are mamma's dear little girl; but mamma doesn't like

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