"Who threw that doll?"
"Huh?"
"I say, who threw that doll?"
"Why, nobody did it."
"Toddie, who threw that doll?"
"Budge did," replied Toddie, in muffled tones, suggestive of a brotherly hand laid forcibly over a pair of small lips.
"Budge, what did you do it for?"
"Why—why—I—because—why, you see—because, why, Toddie froo his dolly in my mouth; some of her hair went in, anyhow, an' I didn't want his dolly in my mouth, so I sent it back to him, an' the foot of the bed didn't stick up enough, so it went froo the door to your bed—that's what for."
The explanation seemed to bear marks of genuineness, albeit the pain in my eye was not alleviated thereby, while the exertion expended in eliciting the information had so thoroughly awakened me that further sleep was out of the question. Besides, the open door—had a burglar been in the room? No, my watch and pocket-book were undisturbed.
"Budge, who opened that door?"