Ninny and her mother looked at each other and smiled, as if to say,—
"How glad we both are to have Flaxie happy for a little while."
But it did not last long. Preston, who was always setting traps for rats and mice and foxes, set a dreadful one in the shed, and caught the kitty, which of course had to be killed. Preston was in great distress about it.
"There, Frizzy-me-gig, don't cry. John Piper is going to give me something a great deal better than a kitten."
"What is it? O, what is it?"
"You'll see when I get it."
"Will it be my owny-dony?"
"No-o, not yours exactly; but you may look at it and touch it."
Flaxie was a little comforted; for now she must try to guess what it could be that was better than a kitten.