“Indeed we will not!” exclaimed Curly.

“Not even if the bad fuzzy wolf comes out of his den after more apple pies?” asked the rabbit gentleman.

“Not even then!” exclaimed Flop.  “If he does, I’ll throw more apple peelings at him, and trip him up so that he bumps his nose again.”

“Good!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, as he limped off on his red, white and blue rheumatism crutch.  “And if the apple pie lady comes whistling along again, get her to make us a prune pudding,” he said.

“We will,” promised the piggie boys, and then they began to play games in front of the Lake Hopatcong bungalow, while Uncle Wiggily went to see Pop Goes the Weasle, who kept the grocery store.

“Well, I guess she isn’t coming,” said Flop, after a while.

“Who?” asked Curly.

“The pie lady.  I do wish she would, for I am hungry,” and he looked at the bushes, and, all of a sudden, they began to rustle, and the piggie boys didn’t know whether to run away or stay there.

“Maybe it’s the pie lady,” said Curly.

“Yes, and maybe it’s the bad black bear,” suggested Flop.  “I’m going to run into the bungalow!”

Well, he was just going to run, and Curly was going to follow, when, all at once, a sweet gentle voice said: 

“Oh, dear, I’m sure I’ll never find any!  Oh, and I want it so much!  I wonder where I could get any?”

The two piggie boys looked, and there they saw an Indian maiden coming out of the bushes.  They knew she was an Indian maiden because her hair was in two long braids, hanging down in front of her, and she had a brown dress on, and she was very beautiful, just like a picture.

“We needn’t be afraid of her,” whispered Curly to his brother.

“No indeed,” agreed Flop.  “I wonder what it is she is looking for?”

“Jelly,” answered the Indian maiden, who heard what the piggie boy asked.  “I am looking for a jar of jelly.  Oh, I just love jelly, and I haven’t had any in so long that I forget how it tastes!  Since early morning I have been traveling looking for jelly, but I can’t find any.  Some wild bees offered me honey, but I would like jelly.  Have you any?” and she looked at the bungalow,

“Why, I think we have some,” said Curly politely.

“I’ll go look!” exclaimed Flop, for they were both anxious to do some kindness for the Indian maiden, whom they liked as soon as they saw her.  She was not a wild Indian, you know, but the kind that lives in Montclair, maybe; a tame one.

So Flop ran in the bungalow to look for the jelly and Curly picked a nice bunch of flowers for the Indian maiden, and she put them in her hair and looked prettier than ever.

“Here is the jelly!” cried Flop, coming out with as much as he could carry.  “I’m sure Uncle Wiggily would want you to have it,” he said, and then he gave the Indian maiden a spoon and she began to eat jelly and was as happy as anything.