[SPAM] Omb, and gold ear-drops, like upside down

Troking those soft silk tassels. "I hope your mamma 'll give you one,
too," murmured the dear little soul. I sprang up at that. "O, do you
s'pose she would?" I cried; and by the time I had taken another roll
down the bank my spirits rose wonderfully, and I let her put the parasol
in my hand, even exclaiming,-- "No, I never did see anything so nice!"
But I secretly hoped my own would be nicer still. "Come home to my
house," said I, "and ask my mamma if I can have a parasol too." We were
very near the house, and she went in with me. Mother was in the kitchen,
stewing apple-sauce for supper. I remember what a tired look she had on
her face, and how wearily she stirred the apple-sauce, which was
bubbling in the porcelain kettle. "You speak now," whispered I to Fel.
"You speak first." This was asking a great deal of the dear little
friend I had just called a lie-girl. If she hadn't loved me better, much
better than I deserved, she would have turned and run away. As it was,
she called up all her courage, the timid little thing, and fluttering up
to my mother, gently poked the end of the parasol into the bow of her
black silk apron. "Please, O, please, Mrs. Parlin, do look and see how
pretty it is." That was as far as she could get for some time, till
mother smiled and kissed her, and asked once or twice, "Well, dear, what
is it?" I ran into the shed and back again, too excited to stand still.
Mother was always so tender of Fel, that I did think she couldn't refuse
her. I was sure, at any rate, she would say as much as, "We will see
about it, dear;" but instead of that she gave her an extra hug, and
answered sorrowfully,-- "I wish I could buy Margaret a parasol; but
really it is not to be thought of." I dropped into the chip-basket, and
cried. "If she knew how to take care of her things perhaps I might, but
it is wicked to throw away money." "O, mamma, _did_ you s'pose I'd let
it fall in the _hoss troth_?" screamed I, remembering the fate of my
last week's hat, with the green vine round it. "If you'll only give me a
pairsol, mamma, I won't never carry it out to the barn, nor down to the
river, nor anywhere 'n this world. I'll keep it in your bandbox, right
side o' your bonnet, where there don't any mice come, or any flies, and
never touch it, nor ask to see it, nor--" "There, that'll do," said
mother, stopping me at full tide. "I would be glad to

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