"Well, you hadn't the pluck to go yourself! You stopt in!" cried
Tommy, putting his hand to his head, but more sorely hurt that an
idiot should call him a fool.

"Come and let me see, Tommy," said Clare.

He wanted to find out if he was much hurt; but Tommy thought he wanted
to go to the water-but, and screamed.

"Hold your tongue, you little idiot!" cried Clare. "You'll have all
the world coming after us! They'll think I'm murdering you!"

Tommy restrained himself, and gradually recovering, told Clare what he
had discovered, but not what he had found.

"There's something yellow on your jacket! What is it?" said Clare. "I
do believe--yes, it is!--you've been eating an egg! Now I remember! I
saw egg-shells, more than two or three, lying in the yard, and the
poor hen walking about looking for her eggs! You little rascal! You
pig of a boy! I won't thrash you this time, because you've fetched
your own thrashing. But--!"

He finished the sentence by shaking his fist in Tommy's face, and
looking as black at him as he was able.

"I do believe it was the hen herself that frighted you!" he added.
"She served you right, you thief!"

"I didn't know there was any harm," said Tommy, pretending to sob.