"Be sure they have strong stems," she warned him, "or I shall not be able to use them."
The apples had been packed in barrels with plenty of straw to keep them from freezing, and when Toad reached the barn he pulled out one after another until he thought he had plenty. Just as he was wondering how many trips he would have to make to get all the apples to the house, a face peeped around the doorway.
"Hello, Reddy," laughed Toad, "come on in and help me with these apples. I've got to carry them up to the house," he explained, "they're for the party tonight."
"Couldn't we eat just one now?" asked Reddy, picking up from the floor a shining red apple.
"Hey, not that one," cried Toad, "take one without a stem."
"Huh," protested Reddy, "what difference does that make? I wasn't going to eat the stem."
Toad laughed.
"Mother wants strong stems on them. I don't know why," he explained.
"What's a Hallowe'en party like?" inquired Reddy, seating himself on the top of a potato barrel.
"Fat says," he continued, "that there's always ghosts."