Gwendolyn thought she had never seen a prettier one. Its ribbon bows were fresh and smart; its lace was snow-white and neatly frilled.
"Oh, I know she'll make the trade!" she exclaimed happily.
The Piper considered the matter, pursing his lips around the pipe-stem in his mouth; standing on one foot.
Gwendolyn appealed to the Man-Who-Makes-Faces. "Maybe moth-er'll have to have her ears sharpened," she suggested.
The little old gentleman shook his shaggy head. "Don't let her hear that pig!" he warned darkly.
"She'll come round in another moment!" It was the Doctor, voice very cheery.
At that, the Piper unslung the poke and advanced to the edge of the road. "I've never wanted this crazy poke," he asserted over a shoulder to Gwendolyn. "Now, I'll just get rid of it. And I'll present that bonnet with the bee" (here he laughed harshly) "to a woman that hasn't footed a single one of my bills. Ha! ha!"
Buzz-z-z-z!
Again that high, strident note. Gwendolyn's mother was circling into sight once more. Fortunately, she was keeping close to the outer edge of the road. The Piper faced in the direction she was speeding, and prepared to race beside her.
BUZZ-Z-Z-Z!