ly; "I'm not a stupid. I
know a great many things you don't."

"Oh, I dare say, Miss Spitfire! I'd never be such a cross thing as you,
making faces like that. Lucy doesn't do so. I like Lucy better than you;
_I_ wish Lucy was _my_ sister."

"Then it's very wicked and cruel of you to wish so," said Maggie,
starting up hurriedly from her place on the floor, and upsetting Tom's
wonderful pagoda.

She really did not mean it, but the circumstantial evidence was against
her, and Tom turned white with anger, but said nothing; he would have
struck her, only he knew it was cowardly to strike a girl, and Tom
Tulliver was quite determined he would never do anything cowardly.

Maggie stood in dismay and terror, while Tom got up from the floor and
walked away, pale, from the scattered ruins of his pagoda, and Lucy
looked on mutely, like a kitten pausing from its lapping.

"Oh, Tom," said Maggie, at last, going halfway toward him, "I didn't
mean to knock it down,--indeed, indeed I didn't."

Tom took no notice of her, but took, instead, two or three hard peas out
of his pocket, and shot them with his thumb-nail against the window,
vaguely at first, but presently with the distinct aim of hitting a
superannuated blue bottle which was exposing its imbecility in the
spring sunshine, clearly against the views of Nature, who had provided
Tom and the peas for the speedy destruction of this weak individual.

Thus the morning had been made heavy to Maggie, and Tom's persistent
coldness to her all through their walk spoiled the fresh air and
sunshine for her. He called Lucy to look at the half-built bird's nest
without caring to show it to Maggie, and peeled a willow switch for Lucy
and himself, without offering one to Maggie. Lucy had said, "Maggie,
shouldn't _you_ like one?" but Tom was deaf.

Still, the sight of the peacock opportunely spreading his tail on the
stackyard wall, just as they reached Garum Firs, was enough to divert
the mind temporarily from personal grievances. And this was only the
beginning of beautiful sights at Garum Firs. All the farmyard life was
wonderful there,--bantams, speckled and topknotted; Friesland hens, with
their feathers all turned the wrong way; Guinea fowls that flew and
screamed and dropped their pretty spotted feathers; pouter pigeons and a
tame magpie; nay, a goat, and a wonderful brindled dog, half mastiff,
half bulldog, as large as a lion. Then there were white railings and
white gates all abo