"I'm afraid you're going to think I was a pretty bad little chap," he said.
"Oh, no, really we won't," they assured him, "do go on and tell us."
"Well," he continued, "it was a long walk to the church, and after I had gone a way I sat down by the roadside to rest. Also I was very fond of strawberries, so I took just a peep to see what it looked like. Then I took, oh, just a little sample, to see how it tasted, and didn't I smack my lips over it.
"And then, I'm ashamed to say what followed. Although I knew it was wrong I ate more and more until a fourth of it was gone, then what was I to do? I couldn't take it to the supper that way, so I decided to eat it all and hoped my mother wouldn't ask any questions when I got back home."
"Oh," giggled Jerry, "did you do it?"
"I almost did—there wasn't very much left when I started for home. My mother didn't say a word when she saw me, because as she told me years later, she didn't have to ask any questions, for my face was covered with strawberry stains and little flecks of cream.
"I think," answered Mary, "I shall call her Elizabeth Geraldine for her two aunts."
"Well, I went to bed early that night. I didn't feel any too well, and before long a real pain came and danced up and down inside me. Oh, wasn't I sorry I had eaten that cake.
"Mother came in then, and I felt better—well enough to tell her about it. I said then I'd never eat strawberries as long as I lived. And I never have."