'What book is this ?' said he, grinning at it.

'What do you want with my book ?' said I, clutching at it over my stall, 'give me my book.' 'What do you want a book for ?' said he, holding it back; 'I have a good mind to fling it into the Thames.' 'Give me my book,' I shrieked; and, snatching at it, I fell over my stall, and all my fruit was scattered about.

Off ran the boys--off ran the rascal with my book.

Oh dear, I thought I should have died; up I got, however, and ran after them as well as I could; I thought of my fruit, but I thought more of my book.

I left my fruit and ran after my book.