“I suppose,” said aunt Eastman, “you will have a great many wonderful things to tell us, Dotty, for I am sure you travelled with your eyes open.”

“Yes’m; I hardly ever went to sleep in the cars.  But when you said ‘eyes,’ auntie, it made me think of the blind children.  We went to the ’Sylum to see them.”

“How do they look?” asked Johnny.

“They don’t look at all; they are blind.”

“Astonishing!  I’d open my eyes if I were they.”

“Why, Percy, they are blind—­stone-blind!”

“How is that?  How blind is a stone?”

Dotty busied herself with her turkey.  Her Eastman cousins all had a way of rendering her very uncomfortable.  They made remarks which were intended to be witty, but were only pert.  They were not really kind-hearted, or they would have been more thoughtful of the feelings of others.

“Alice,” said dear Mrs. Read, trying to turn the conversation, “I see thee wears a very pretty ring.”

Dotty took it off her finger, and passed it around for inspection.

“I never had a ring before,” said she, with animation.  “I never had anything to wear—­’cept clothes”

Percy laughed.

“I found the pearl in an oyster stew, grandma.  It is such a very funny place Out West”

“Yes, it is really a pearl,” said Percy, “only spoiled by boiling.  Look her, Toddlekins; oysters don’t grow Out West; they grow here on the coast.  You’d better study astronomy.”

Dotty took refuge in silence again, like an oyster withdrawing into his shell.

“O, Dotty,” said Susy, presently, “tell me what you saw Out West.  I want to hear all about it.”

“Well, I saw a pandrammer,” replied Dotty, briefly.

“What in the world is that?” said Johnny.

“It is a long picture, and they keep pulling it out like India rubber.”

“She means a panorama” cried Johnny.  “Why, I went to one last night.  We can see as much as you can, without going Out West, either.”

Here was another sensation.  Dotty might as well have been eating ashes as the delirious dinner before her.

“Don’t you like your pudding, dear?” asked aunt Eastman.

“O, yes’m; I always like coker-whacker" replied the unfortunate Dotty, stumbling over the word tapioca.

In spite of their mother’s warning frown, the three young Eastmans laughed, while Susy and Prudy, who had kinder hearts and better manners, drew down their mouths with the greatest solemnity.

“I ain’t going to speak another word,” cried the persecuted little traveller, setting down her goblet, and hitting it against her plate till it rang again.

“Error!” called out Florence from the other side of the table; “there’s no such word as ain’t.”

This was too much.  Dotty had smarted under these cruel blows long enough.  She hastily arose from the table, and rushed out of the room.