“Will you get my hat, Ninny? ’Cause when I die ’n’ go to hebben, then you won’t have no little sister.”
“No, I will not get your hat, miss, so there!”
All this while Flaxie was pushing, and Ninny was shaking her head. The closet-door stood open, and, before Ninny thought much about it, she was inside.
“There you is!” laughed the baby.
Then rising on her “tippy-toes,” Flaxie began to fumble with the key. Ninny smiled to hear her breathe so hard, but never thought the wee, wee fingers could do any harm.
At last the key, after clicking for a good while, turned round in the lock; yes, fairly turned. The door was fastened.
“Let me out! out! out!” cried Ninny, pounding with both hands.
Flaxie was perfectly delighted. She had not known till then that the door was locked, and if Ninny had been quiet she would probably have kept fumbling away till she opened it. But now she wouldn’t so much as touch the key, you may be sure. O, 041Flaxie Frizzle was a big rogue, as big as she could be, and be so little! There she stood, hopping up and down, and laughing, with the blind kitty hugged close to her bosom.
“Laugh to me, Ninny!”
“What do I want to laugh for? Let me out, you naughty girl!”