Methusaleh.

But the closets were the most mysterious of all. Some of them were
actually locked, and, though Marmaduke tried to peek through the
keyholes, all he could see was darkness--like midnight.

Once Mother saw him peeking.

She went over to the door and unlocked it. But she didn't open it.

"I thought I would keep it locked, children," she said, "but after all
I've decided I won't. Trust is stronger than any key. And I think I
can trust you, can't I?"

"Y-y-yes," said Jehosophat.

"Y-y-yes," said Marmaduke.

"Y-y-yeth," lisped Hepzebiah.

"Thank you, my dears," she said, then went away, leaving the door
unlocked.

For two whole weeks they hadn't peeked. They had hung around that
closet and stared and sighed, but never once did they even try the
door. And I think they were rather brave, when they knew there were
packages inside, all wrapped in red paper and tied with green ribbon,
and they could almost hear the paper rustle. Oh, well they knew those
packages were there, for hadn't they caught Mother inside with her
apron over packages and things, the bits of red and green showing