She had stopped to pick some blossoms for the house.
"Why, Lucy, what's poor Meg done ?" she asked, as she stooped over and stroked the crestfallen beast's head.

"Poor old doggie--we all love you, don't we ?" "Well, just please love him all to yourselves, then," retorted Lucy with a toss of her head.

"I wouldn't touch him with a pair of tongs.

I never saw anything so ugly.

Get away, you little brute!" "Oh, Lucy, dear, don't talk so," replied the older sister in a pitying tone.