Pretty soon, as the bunny gentleman and the Queen of Hearts were hiding, into the kitchen came the Jack of Hearts. He was a funny chap, with little candy hearts all over his clothes and cap.
“Ah, ha!” said the Jack, smacking his lips. “This is tart day. Here is where I have a fine feast! I’ll get the tarts of the Queen of Hearts.”
Laughing to himself, the Jack went up to the shelf where the tarts were cooling. He lifted one down, and took a big bite from it, saying:
“I’ll taste them before I take them away.”
But, no sooner had he tasted it than the Jack of Hearts he dropped that tart and, all excited like, he cried:
“Oh me! Oh my! Oh ice water and lemonade! Oh, how my mouth burns! I don’t want any of those tarts! Oh, no,” and away he ran, not taking one.
“Why, that’s queer,” said the queen. “He should have taken those hearts. That’s the way it is in the book.”
The bunny uncle looked at the tarts he and the Queen had made. He took a little taste of one, and then Uncle Wiggily said:
“No wonder the Jack didn’t want them. By mistake we have put red pepper in the tarts instead of red raspberry jam! They’re as hot as a stove. Oh dear!”
“Never mind,” said the Queen, sweetly. “We’ll make some more tarts, and this time we’ll do it right and put in the jam. Anyhow I’m glad, for now the Jack won’t want to take the new tarts I make.” And the Jack did not. He had had enough.