"Of course there is—lots and lots," answered Swanki. "There's mince pie and ham sandwiches and jam tarts and vinegar and plum duff and cakes and pickled cabbages."
"So they all ran off and collected puriri berries."
Tiki stared at Swanki in amazement; he had never even heard of these foods, and thought she must be wonderfully clever to know all about them.
Sly little Swanki did not tell him that she had lately been hidden in a hollow tree stump near a picnic party which had come into the bush, and that she had heard the people offering these strange foods to one another, and they sounded as though they might be more interesting than just berries—berries—berries—roots—roots—roots.
And that is always the way,—something we haven't got always seems more worth having than the things we have.
When Tiki had recovered from his surprise he remembered one familiar word in Swanki's list of things to eat, and as he was always ready to please, he said:
"Swanki, I don't know where the mince pie and plum duff and—and vinegar trees grow, but I can show you the pickled cabbage trees all right."
"Oh, Tiki, can you?" cried Swanki. "Then let's go at once. I'm longing for some pickled cabbage."