break it in and
make it a quiet serviceable horse.

Some folks may say, "Ah! but the Fairy does not need to do that if she
knows everything already." True. But, if she did not know, she would not
surely behave worse than a British judge and jury; and no more should
parents and teachers either.

So she just said nothing at all about the matter, not even when Tom came
next day with the rest for sweet things. He was horribly afraid of
coming: but he was still more afraid of staying away, lest any one
should suspect him. He was dreadfully afraid, too, lest there should be
no sweets--as was to be expected, he having eaten them all--and lest
then the fairy should inquire who had taken them. But, behold! she
pulled out just as many as ever, which astonished Tom, and frightened
him still more.

And, when the fairy looked him full in the face, he shook from head to
foot: however she gave him his share like the rest, and he thought
within himself that she could not have found him out.

But, when he put the sweets into his mouth, he hated the taste of them;
and they made him so sick that he had to get away as fast as he could;
and terribly sick he was, and very cross and unhappy, all the week
after.

Then, when next week came, he had his share again; and again the fairy
looked him full in the face; but more sadly than she had ever looked.
And he could not bear the sweets: but took them again in spite of
himself.

And when Mrs. Doasyouwouldbedoneby came, he wanted to be cuddled like
the rest; but she said very seriously:

"I should like to cuddle you; but I cannot, you are so horny and
prickly."

And Tom looked at himself: and he was all over prickles, just like a
sea-egg.

Which was quite natural; for you must know and believe that people's
souls make their bodies just as a snail makes its shell (I am not
joking, my little man; I am in serious, solemn earnest). And therefore,
when Tom's soul grew all prickly with naughty tempers, his body could
not help growing prickly too, so that nobody would cuddle him, or play
with him, or even like to look at him.

What could Tom do now but go away and hide in a corner and cry? For
nobody would play with him, and he knew full well why.

And he was so miserable all that week that when the ugly fairy came and
looked at him once more full in the face, more seriously and sadly than
ever, he could stand it no longer, and thrust the sweetmeats away,
saying, "No, I don't want any: I