"Who's Tommy Trout?" asked Deordie.

"Don't you know, Deor?" said Tiny. "It's the good boy who pulled the
cat out of the what's-his-name.

'Who pulled her out?
Little Tommy Trout.'

Is it the same Tommy Trout, Doctor? I never heard anything else about
him except his pulling the cat out; and I can't think how he did that."

"Let down the bucket for her, of course," said the Doctor. "But listen
to me. If you will get that handkerchief done, and take it to your
mother with a kiss, and not keep me waiting, I'll have you all to tea,
and tell you the story of Tommy Trout."

"This very night?" shouted Deordie.

"This very night."

"Every one of us?" inquired the young gentleman with rapturous
incredulity.

"Every one of you.--Now, Tiny, how about that work?"

"It's just done," said Tiny.--"Oh! Deordie, climb up behind, and hold
back my hair, there's a darling, while I fasten off. Oh! Deor, you're
pulling my hair out. Don't."

"I want to make a pig-tail," said Deor.