One day Charles was sent to ask John Snap to dine at Broom Hill.
John was glad to go; but he felt he should not like to see Jane, for she might talk of her doll; and if she should talk of it, he thought that he might say or do that which might tell what he had done. Yet John Snap went to dine at Broom Hill.
Now there was one thing of which John Snap was most fond, and this thing was fruit tart. The fruit tarts at Broom Hill were so sweet, and the crust was so light!
The day on which John Snap went to dine at Broom Hill the fruit tart was put near where he sat. How nice and large it was! and how good it smelt too! He thought the time was long till the time came for the tart to be cut.
"It will soon be cut now," thought he. But this dish came, and that dish went, yet still the fruit tart was not cut. He said, "No thank you," to all, for he thought but of the tart.
At length all the things were gone but the tart. "That won't go, I hope," thought John; and great was his joy when he heard Mr. Thorpe say in a loud clear tone, "John Snap, will you please to cut that tart?"
John, in great haste to do what he was told, took up the spoon—but the crust would not break: there was some hard thing, and the spoon would not go through the crust. One, twice, three times did he try. "Put a knife round the edge of the dish and clear off the crust," said Mr. Thorpe; "we must come to the fruit."
John Snap did so. He put a knife round the edge of the dish, and all the crust came off at once. And what was there in that dish?
A dolls head!
Jane gave a loud scream, and John Snap made a rush to the door.