"I'll make the bent one into a hook!" said Sylvie. "To catch Bruno
with, when he runs away from his lessons!"

"You ca'n't guess what my present is!" said Uggug, who had taken the
butter-dish from the table, and was standing behind her, with a wicked
leer on his face.

"No, I ca'n't guess," Sylvie said without looking up. She was still
examining the Professor's pincushion.

"It's this!" cried the bad boy, exultingly, as he emptied the dish over
her, and then, with a grin of delight at his own cleverness, looked
round for applause.

Sylvie coloured crimson, as she shook off the butter from her frock:
but she kept her lips tight shut, and walked away to the window, where
she stood looking out and trying to recover her temper.

Uggug's triumph was a very short one: the Sub-Warden had returned,
just in time to be a witness of his dear child's playfulness,
and in another moment a skilfully-applied box on the ear had changed
the grin of delight into a howl of pain.

"My darling!" cried his mother, enfolding him in her fat arms.
"Did they box his ears for nothing? A precious pet!"

"It's not for nothing!" growled the angry father. "Are you aware,
Madam, that I pay the house-bills, out of a fixed annual sum?
The loss of all that wasted butter falls on me! Do you hear, Madam!"