PIE

Ribby in the meantime had received Duchess's answer, and as soon as she was sure that the little dog would come--she popped HER pie into the oven.

pie of the most delicate and tender mouse minced up with bacon.

When she came back, she peeped into the bottom oven; the pie looked very comfortable.

"I trust that is not that Pie: the spoons are locked up, however," said Ribby.

But there was nobody there Ribby opened the bottom oven door with some difficulty, and turned the pie. There began to be a pleasing smell of baked mouse!

"It is a very odd thing that Ribby's pie was NOT in the oven when I put mine in!

With a sigh, we turned our eyes once more towards the spot where Harris and the pie had last been seen on earth; and there, as our blood froze in our veins and our hair stood up on end, we saw Harris's head - and nothing but his head - sticking bolt upright among the tall grass, the face very red, and bearing upon it an expression of great indignation!

And out of the middle of the earth, as it seemed to us, rose the pie - very much mixed up and damaged; and, after it, scrambled Harris - tumbled, grubby, and wet.

He had been sitting, without knowing it, on the very verge of a small gully, the long grass hiding it from view; and in leaning a little back he had shot over, pie and all.

"Yes," said George, "I says to him, `Tom, you ought to see some of Aunt Chloe's pies; they're the right sort,' says I."

Ye see, there's pints in all pies, Mas'r George; but tan't everybody knows what they is, or as orter be.