You might have thought of it without, when you knew I gave you the best bit." "But I wanted you to have it; you know I did," said Maggie, in an injured tone.
"Yes, but I wasn't going to do what wasn't fair, like Spouncer.

He always takes the best bit, if you don't punch him for it; and if you choose the best with your eyes shut, he changes his hands.

But if I go halves, I'll go 'em fair; only I wouldn't be a greedy." With this cutting innuendo, Tom jumped down from his bough, and threw a stone with a "hoigh!" as a friendly attention to Yap, who had also been looking on while the eatables vanished, with an agitation of his ears and feelings which could hardly have been without bitterness.

Yet the excellent dog accepted Tom's attention with as much alacrity as if he had been treated quite generously.
But Maggie, gifted with that superior power of misery which distinguishes the human being, and places him at a proud distance from the most melancholy chimpanzee, sat still on her bough, and gave herself up to the keen sense of unmerited reproach.

She would have given the world not to have eaten all her puff, and to have saved some of it for Tom.