r, where he
promised himself that he would begin to fish the first thing to-morrow
morning. He was a lad with light brown hair, cheeks of cream and
roses, and full lips.

"Maggie," said Tom, taking her into a corner as soon as his mother was
gone out to examine his box, "you don't know what I've got in my
pockets," nodding his head up and down as a means of rousing her sense
of mystery.

"No," said Maggie. "How stodgy they look, Tom! Is it marls (marbles)
or cob-nuts?" Maggie's heart sank a little, because Tom always said it
was "no good" playing with her at those games, she played so badly.

"Marls! no. I've swopped all my marls with the little fellows; and
cobnuts are no fun, you silly--only when the nuts are green. But see
here!" He drew something out of his right-hand pocket.

"What is it?" said Maggie in a whisper. "I can see nothing but a bit
of yellow."

"Why, it's a new-- Guess, Maggie!"

"Oh, I can't guess, Tom," said Maggie impatiently.

"Don't be a spitfire, else I won't tell you," said Tom, thrusting his
hand back into his pocket.

"No, Tom," said Maggie, laying hold of the arm that was held stiffly in
the pocket. "I'm not cross, Tom; it was only because I can't bear
guessing. Please be good to me."

Tom's arm slowly relaxed, and he said, "Well, then, it's a new
fish-line--'two new uns--one for you, Maggie, all to yourself. I
wouldn't go halves in the toffee and gingerbread on purpose to save the
money; and Gibson and Spouncer fought with me because I wouldn't. And
here's hooks; see here! I say, won't we go and fish to-morrow down by
Round Pond? And you shall catch your own fish, and put the worms on,
and everything. Won't it be fun!"

Maggie's answer was to throw her arms round Tom's neck and hug him, and
hold her cheek against his without speaking, while he slowly unwound
some of the line, saying, after a pause,--

"Wasn't I a good brother, now, to buy you a line all to yourself? You
know, I needn't have bought it if I hadn't liked!"

"Yes, very, very good. I do love you, Tom."

Tom had put the line back in his pocket, and was looking at the hooks
one by one, before he spoke again.

"And the fellows fought me because I wouldn't give in about the toffee."

"Oh dear! I wish they wouldn't fight at your school, Tom. Didn't it
hurt you?"

"Hurt me? No," said Tom, putting up the hooks again. Then he took out
a large pocket-knife, and slowly opened the largest blade and