Mr. Parlin looked up from his letter a little annoyed, for the floor was
shaking so that he could scarcely write.

"Do not be rude, my daughter," said he, though he knew very well the
major was really the one to be chided.

But his warning came a minute too late. Major Lazelle had caught Dotty,
and she had thrown up both hands to clutch at his hair. She meant to
give it one desperate pulling; she did not care if she hurt him a
little; she even hoped he might cry out and beg her to stop.

But the oddest thing happened. If she had gone to bed at the usual time,
and fallen asleep, then this would have been her dream. But no, she
_supposed_ she was awake; and what now?

As she seizes two locks of Major Lazelle's hair, one in each hand, and
pulled them both as if she meant to draw them out by the roots, out they
came! Yes, entirely out! And more than that, all the rest of the man's
hair came too! His head was left as smooth as an apple.

_You_ see at once how it was. He wore a wig, and just for play had slyly
unfastened it, and allowed Miss Dotty to pull it off.

The perfect despair on her little face amused him vastly; but he did not
smile; he looked very severe.

"See what you have done!" said he, rubbing his bald head as if it were
just ready to bleed. "See what you have done to me, you cruel girl!"

Major Lazelle's entire head of hair lay at her feet as brown and wavy