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Updated: June 28, 2025
Flibbertigibbet squeezed her around the neck with such grateful vigor that the blood rushed to poor Sister Angelica's head. She was willing, however, to be a martyr in such a good cause. The little girl walked quietly to the door, but when it had closed upon her she executed a series of somersaults worthy of the Madison Square Garden acrobats.
Flibbertigibbet and her mate nodded vigorously and smiled, making motions with their hands as if stroking the fur. The Marchioness dropped the cat and waved her hand to them; the maid drew her back from the window; the two girls saw her ladyship twitch away from the detaining hand and stamp her foot. "Gee!" said Flibbertigibbet under her breath, "she's just like us." "Oh, wot's she up ter now?"
This was a poser; but Flibbertigibbet did not wish to be outdone, although there was no party for her in prospect. "I can dance too," she signalled. "I know you can lovely; that's why I told you." "I wish I could see you dance the minute." The Marchioness did not answer at once. Finally she spelled "Wait a minute," jumped down from the broad sill and disappeared.
But although the two children waved their hands wildly to attract their attention, the good people opposite failed to see them because the little window suffered eclipse in the shadow of the large electric arc-light's green cap. "She's goin' to begin!" cried Flibbertigibbet, clapping her hands. The young lady sat down at the piano and began to play.
The penalty for breaking silence after the second bell was "no supper", and not one of the three hundred cared to incur that least of all Flibbertigibbet, the "Sally" of the game, who had forfeited her dinner, because she had been caught squabbling at morning prayers, and was now carrying about with her an empty stomach that was at bottom of her ugly mood. "One, two one, two."
After watching this pantomime a few minutes, she spoke slowly: "She's one of the dumb uns; I've seen 'em." The Marchioness was now making frantic gestures towards the top of their window. She was laughing too. "She's a lively one if she is a dumber," said Freckles approvingly. Flibbertigibbet jumped to her feet and likewise stood on the window sill. "Gee!
When Sister Angelica called her by her nickname instead of by the Asylum number, Flibbertigibbet knew she was in high favor. She nudged Freckles and replied: "I want to whisper to you." Sister Angelica bent down; before she knew it the little girl's arms were about her neck and the child was telling her about the dance at the stone house across the way.
He shut himself in his room like some venomous kobold or flibbertigibbet, whining, complaining, cursing, accusing. The keynote of his plaint was that he had been inveigled into a gehenna against his will; that he was dying of neglect and lack of comforts. With all his dire protestations of increasing illness, to the eye of others he remained unchanged.
"Ay, ay, in with you," added Flibbertigibbet; "I must stay a short space with mine honest Philistine, my Goliath of Gath here; but I will be with you anon, and at the bottom of all your secrets, were they as deep and dark as the Castle dungeon."
"Stand still," whispered Flibbertigibbet into Wayland's ear, "I know where the shoe pinches, and will tame him in an instant." He dropped down from the horse, and skipping up to the porter, plucked him by the tail of the bearskin, so as to induce him to decline his huge head, and whispered something in his ear.
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