Jenny, who was too chubby to be very swift-footed, took refuge behind a clump of alder bushes but Mary kept on, and just as she reached a point where the brook turned, Henry overtook her, and would perhaps have carried his threat into execution, had not help arrived from an unexpected quarter.

Tasso, who had watched, and felt sure that this time all was not right, suddenly pounced upon Henry, throwing him down, and then planting himself upon his prostrate form, in such a manner that he dared not move.
"Oh, good, good," said Jenny, coming out from her concealment; "make Tasso keep him there ever so long; and," she continued, patting the dog, "if you won't hurt him much, you may shake him just a little." "No, no," said Henry, writhing with fear, "call him off, do call him off.

Oh, mercy!" he added, as Tasso, who did not particularly care to have the case reasoned, showed two rows of very white teeth.
Mary could not help laughing at the figure which Henry cut; but thinking him sufficiently punished, she called off the dog, who obeyed rather unwillingly, and ever after manifested his dislike to Henry by growling angrily whenever he appeared.
One morning about two weeks afterwards, Mary was in the meadow gathering cowslips for dinner, when she heard some one calling her name; and looking up, she saw Jenny hurrying towards her, her sun-bonnet hanging down her back as usual, and her cheeks flushed with violent exercise.

As soon as she came up, she began with, "Oh my, ain't I hot and tired, and I can't stay a minute either, for I run away.

But I had such good news to tell you, that I would come.