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"
Pooh
!
"
His
dirty
brown
hands
locked
about
her
wrists
,
closing
tightly
.
"
Want
a
Chinese
burn
?
And
do
n't
be
such
a
crybaby
,
or
I
'll
tell
Bob
.
"
He
squeezed
her
skin
in
opposite
directions
until
it
stretched
whitely
,
as
Hughie
got
hold
of
the
doll
's
skirts
and
pulled
.
"
Gim
me
,
or
I
'll
do
it
really
hard
!
"
"
No
!
Do
n't
,
Jack
,
please
do
n't
!
You
'll
break
her
,
I
know
you
will
!
Oh
,
please
leave
her
alone
!
Do
n't
take
her
,
please
!
"
In
spite
of
the
cruel
grip
on
her
wrists
she
clung
to
the
doll
,
sobbing
and
kicking
.
"
Got
it
!
"
Hughie
whooped
,
as
the
doll
slid
under
Meggie
's
crossed
forearms
.
Jack
and
Hughie
found
her
just
as
fascinating
as
Meggie
had
;
off
came
the
dress
,
the
petticoats
and
long
,
frilly
drawers
.
Agnes
lay
naked
while
the
boys
pushed
and
pulled
at
her
,
forcing
one
foot
round
the
back
of
her
head
,
making
her
look
down
her
spine
,
every
possible
contortion
they
could
think
of
.
They
took
no
notice
of
Meggie
as
she
stood
crying
;
it
did
not
occur
to
her
to
seek
help
,
for
in
the
Cleary
family
those
who
could
not
fight
their
own
battles
got
scant
aid
or
sympathy
,
and
that
went
for
girls
,
too
.
The
doll
's
golden
hair
tumbled
down
,
the
pearls
flew
winking
into
the
long
grass
and
disappeared
.
A
dusty
boot
came
down
thoughtlessly
on
the
abandoned
dress
,
smearing
grease
from
the
smithy
across
its
satin
.
Meggie
dropped
to
her
knees
,
scrabbling
frantically
to
collect
the
miniature
clothes
before
more
damage
was
done
them
,
then
she
began
picking
among
the
grass
blades
where
she
thought
the
pearls
might
have
fallen
.
Her
tears
were
blinding
her
,
the
grief
in
her
heart
new
,
for
until
now
she
had
never
owned
anything
worth
grieving
for
.
*
*
*
Frank
threw
the
shoe
hissing
into
cold
water
and
straightened
his
back
;
it
did
n't
ache
these
days
,
so
perhaps
he
was
used
to
smithying
.
Not
before
time
,
his
father
would
have
said
,
after
six
months
at
it
.
But
Frank
knew
very
well
how
long
it
was
since
his
introduction
to
the
forge
and
anvil
;
he
had
measured
the
time
in
hatred
and
resentment
.
Throwing
the
hammer
into
its
box
,
he
pushed
the
lank
black
hair
off
his
brow
with
a
trembling
hand
and
dragged
the
old
leather
apron
from
around
his
neck
.
His
shirt
lay
on
a
heap
of
straw
in
the
corner
;
he
plodded
across
to
it
and
stood
for
a
moment
staring
at
the
splintering
barn
wall
as
if
it
did
not
exist
,
his
black
eyes
wide
and
fixed
.
He
was
very
small
,
not
above
five
feet
three
inches
,
and
thin
still
as
striplings
are
,
but
the
bare
shoulders
and
arms
had
muscles
already
knotted
from
working
with
the
hammer
,
and
the
pale
,
flawless
skin
gleamed
with
sweat
.
The
darkness
of
his
hair
and
eyes
had
a
foreign
tang
,
his
full-lipped
mouth
and
wide-bridged
nose
not
the
usual
family
shape
,
but
there
was
Maori
blood
on
his
mother
's
side
and
in
him
it
showed
.
He
was
nearly
sixteen
years
old
,
where
Bob
was
barely
eleven
,
Jack
ten
,
Hughie
nine
,
Stuart
five
and
little
Meggie
three
.
Then
he
remembered
that
today
Meggie
was
four
;
it
was
December
8th
.
He
put
on
his
shirt
and
left
the
barn
.
