“Come into the house as soon as you have looked at your eggs.  Give me the herbs for the omelet.  Be sharp!”

He was rather abrupt.  Jemima Puddle-duck had never heard him speak like that.

She felt surprised and uncomfortable.

While she was inside she heard pattering feet round the back of the shed.  Someone with a black nose sniffed at the bottom of the door, and them locked it.

Jemima became much alarmed.

A moment afterward there were most awful noises—­barking, baying, growls and howls, squealing and groans.

And nothing more was ever seen of that foxy-whiskered gentleman.

Presently Kep opened the door of the shed and let out Jemima Puddle-duck.

Unfortunately the puppies rushed in and gobbled up all the eggs before he could stop them.

He had a bite on his ear, and both the puppies were limping.

Jemima Puddle-duck was escorted home in tears on account of those eggs.

She laid some more in June, and she was permitted to keep them herself:  but only four of them hatched.

Jemima Puddle-duck said that it was because of her nerves; but she had always been a bad sitter.

THE ROLY-POLY PUDDING

[In Remembrance of “Sammy,” the Intelligent Pink-Eyed Representative of a Persecuted (But Irrepressible) Race.  An Affectionate Little Friend, and Most Accomplished Thief!]

Once upon a time there was an old cat, called Mrs. Tabitha Twitchit, who was an anxious parent.  She used to lose her kittens continually, and whenever they were lost they were always in mischief!

On baking day she determined to shut them up in a cupboard.

She caught Moppet and Mittens, but she could not find Tom.

Mrs. Tabitha went up and down all over the house, mewing for Tom Kitten.  She looked in the pantry under the staircase, and she searched the best spare bedroom that was all covered up with dust sheets.  She went right upstairs and looked into the attics, but she could not find him anywhere.

It was an old, old house, full of cupboards and passages.  Some of the walls were four feet thick, and there used to be queer noises inside them, as if there might be a little secret staircase.  Certainly there were odd little jagged doorways in the wainscot, and things disappeared at night—­ especially cheese and bacon.

Mrs. Tabitha became more and more distracted and mewed dreadfully.

While their mother was searching the house, Moppet and Mittens had got into mischief.

The cupboard door was not locked, so they pushed it open and came out.

They went straight to the dough which was set to rise in a pan before the fire.

They patted it with their little soft paws—­“Shall we make dear little muffins?” said Mittens to Moppet.

But just at that moment somebody knocked at the front door, and Moppet jumped into the flour barrel in a fright.