“Why, Mr.—­, why, sir, don’t you know?” replied the child, struck with a sudden fear that her strange companion was a crazy man.  “O, my stars! don’t you know what you took me up for?  Didn’t you hear?  My little sister ran off the piazza.”  Then Prudy repeated the words aloud, slowly and on a high key, anxious this time to make her meaning very clear.  “She—­ran—­off—­the—­piazza, with a pink dress on, sir, and not a speck—­of—­a—­hat.  And I was stirring jelly on the stove, and never knew it till she was lost and gone.  And we’re all hunting,—­me, and—­mother, and—­all.  I thought you knew, sir; but if you didn’t I guess I’d better get out!”

The good-natured soap-man shook with laughter.  “Excuse me, little miss,” said he, “but the fact is, I understood you to say your sister’s name was Alice Wheelbarrow Parlin, and that’s why I was puzzled to know who you meant by Dotty.—­But here we are at Pearl Street.  Here, in this house, lives one of my best customers.  Now, if you like, I’ll lift you out, and you can go with me and inquire for your little sister.  Then you can ride again, for I’m going as far as Munjoy.”

So saying, the man took Prudy out in his arms.  She knew it was rather odd for a little girl like her to be going around to people’s back doors with a stranger in a blue blouse; but it was all for Dotty’s sake.

The man knocked with the handle of his whip, and a neat-looking servant girl appeared.

“Have you seen anything of a stray child?” was his first question.

“My little sister,” cried Prudy, in breathless haste.  “She had on a pink dress, and curls bareheaded.”

“We have seen no such child pass this way,” replied the girl, civilly.  Prudy’s eager face fell.

“I supposed likely as not you hadn’t,” said the soap-man; “so now we’ll proceed to business.  You see I’m here with my wagon and barrels, and I suppose you perceive that I’ve come for your bones!”

These whispered words fell on Prudy’s ears with terrible force.  A vague terror seized her. “I’ve come for your bones!” What could he mean?  Was he an ogre, right out of a fairy-book?  What did he want of that poor woman’s bones?

Without stopping to think twice, Prudy ran off with trembling haste, and by the time the astonished soap-boiler missed her she had reached Congress Street, and was still running.

The first thing she saw, as she entered her own door, was the fluttering of Dotty’s pink dress.  The runaway was safe and sound.  She had only toddled off after a man with a basket of images, calling out, “baa, baa,” “moo, moo,” “bow-wow.”  The end of it was, that the image man had given her a toy lamb, for which she had said, “How do,” instead of thank you; and Florence Eastman had led her home.

Susy was heartily ashamed of her heedlessness.

“Now, mother,” said she, “do you think, if I should be kept on bread and water for a whole day, I should learn to remember?  You’ll never trust Dotty with me again.”