"I know something bad that you did, and I'm going to tell right out.
You thought we didn't see you, but we did, and you said uncle
wouldn't like it, and the boys would tease, and you made Ariadne
promise not to tell, and she punched holes in your ears to put
ear-rings in. So now! and that's much badder than to take an old
piece of rag; and I hate you for making my Pokey cry."
Jamie's somewhat incoherent explosion produced such an effect
that Pokey's small sin was instantly forgotten, and Rose felt that
her hour had come.
"What! what! what!" cried the boys in a chorus, dropping their
shovels and knives to gather round Rose, for a guilty clutching at
her ears betrayed her, and with a feeble cry of "Ariadne made me!"
she hid her head among the pillows like an absurd little ostrich.
"Now she'll go prancing round with bird cages and baskets and
carts and pigs, for all I know, in her ears, as the other girls do, and
won't she look like a goose?" asked one tormentor, tweaking a curl
that strayed out from the cushions.
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