n. Then the door was
thrown open; but instead of the tea-tray, Sally brought in an object so
startling that both Mrs. Pullet and Mrs. Tulliver gave a scream,
causing Uncle Pullet to swallow a lozenge he was sucking--for the fifth
time in his life, as he afterwards noted.

The startling object was no other than little Lucy, with one side of
her person, from her small foot to her bonnet-crown, wet and
discoloured with mud, holding out two tiny blackened hands, and making
a very piteous face.

Chapter VII.

MAGGIE IS VERY NAUGHTY.

As soon as the children reached the open air Tom said, "Here, Lucy, you
come along with me," and walked off to the place where the toads were,
as if there were no Maggie in existence. Lucy was naturally pleased
that Cousin Tom was so good to her, and it was very amusing to see him
tickling a fat toad with a piece of string, when the toad was safe down
the area, with an iron grating over him.

Still Lucy wished Maggie to enjoy the sight also, especially as she
would doubtless find a name for the toad, and say what had been his
past history; for Lucy loved Maggie's stories about the live things
they came upon by accident--how Mrs. Earwig had a wash at home, and one
of her children had fallen into the hot copper, for which reason she
was running so fast to fetch the doctor. So now the desire to know the
history of a very portly toad made her run back to Maggie and say, "Oh,
there is such a big, funny toad, Maggie! Do come and see."

Maggie said nothing, but turned away from her with a deep frown. She
was actually beginning to think that she should like to make Lucy cry,
by slapping or pinching her, especially as it might vex Tom, whom it
was of no use to slap, even if she dared, because he didn't mind it.
And if Lucy hadn't been there, Maggie was sure he would have made
friends with her sooner.

Tickling a fat toad is an amusement that does not last, and Tom
by-and-by began to look round for some other mode of passing the time.
But in so prim a garden, where they were not to go off the paved walks,
there was not a great choice of sport.

"I say, Lucy," he began, nodding his head up and down, as he coiled up
his string again, "what do you think I mean to do?"

"What, Tom?" said Lucy.

"I mean to go to the pond and look at the pike. You may go with me if
you like."

"O Tom, dare you?" said Lucy. "Aunt said we mustn't go out of the
garden."

"Oh, I shall go out at the oth