"If a little boy had one poggit full o' pinnuts, and one poggit full o' canny, and one in his hands, how many would he be?"
This was a question in arithmetic; and, though Preston was a large boy, he could not answer it.
"Answer it yourself," said he, laughing.
"He'd have fousands and fousands—as many as four hundred!" said Flaxie, promptly.
"Shouldn't wonder! What's the need of my going to school, when I have a little sister at home that knows so much?" cried Preston, kissing her and hurrying away.
Flaxie wished he and her sister Julia—or Ninny, as she called her—could stay with her all the time. She was lonesome when they were both gone; and to-day her mamma said she must not go out of doors because her throat was sore.
She stood for awhile by the kitchen window, looking at the meadow behind the house. It was sprinkled all over with dandelions, so bright and gay that Flaxie fancied they were laughing. They didn't have sore throats. O, no! they could stay out of doors all day long; and so could the pretty brook; and so could the dog Rover; and the horses, Whiz and Slowboy; and the two young colts.
By-and-by the colts came to the kitchen window, which was open, and put in their noses to ask for something to eat. Flaxie gave them pieces of bread, which Dora handed her; and they ate them, then ran out their tongues and licked the window-sill, to be sure to get all the crumbs.
"What if they should bite you!" said Dora.