Not but that the puff was very nice, for Maggie's palate was not at all obtuse, but she would have gone without it many times over, sooner than Tom should call her greedy and be cross with her.

And he had said he wouldn't have it, and she ate it without thinking; how could she help it?
The tears flowed so plentifully that Maggie saw nothing around her for the next ten minutes; but by that time resentment began to give way to the desire of reconciliation, and she jumped from her bough to look for Tom.

He was no longer in the paddock behind the rickyard; where was he likely to be gone, and Yap with him?
Maggie ran to the high bank against the great holly-tree, where she could see far away toward the Floss.

There was Tom; but her heart sank again as she saw how far off he was on his way to the great river, and that he had another companion besides Yap,--naughty Bob Jakin, whose official, if not natural, function of frightening the birds was just now at a standstill.

Maggie felt sure that Bob was wicked, without very distinctly knowing why; unless it was because Bob's mother was a dreadfully large fat woman, who lived at a queer round house down the river; and once, when Maggie and Tom had wandered thither, there rushed out a brindled dog that wouldn't stop barking; and when Bob's mother came out after it, and screamed above the barking to tell them not to be frightened, Maggie thought she was scolding them fiercely, and her heart beat with terror.