“‘You shall have it,’ said the baker’s wife.
“‘Yes, indeed,’ assented the baker. ‘As fine a one as you want.’”
XII.
THE TERRIBLE HORSE.
When Tickle-My-Toes had told about how pleased the baker and his wife were with Sparkle Spry, he paused and looked at Chickamy Crany Crow, as if he expected that she would beckon him away. But, instead of that, she said:—
“Why, that isn’t all.”
“Well, it’s enough, I hope,” replied Tickle-My-Toes.
“No,” said Mrs. Meadows, “it’s not enough, if there’s any more. Why, so far it’s the best of all the stories. It’s new to me. I had an idea that I had heard all the stories, but this one is a pole over my persimmon, as we used to say in the country next door.”
“I don’t like to tell stories,” protested Tickle-My-Toes, puckering his face in a comical way. “It’s too confining.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Mr. Rabbit. “It’s time you were settling down. What will you look like a year or two from now, if you keep on cutting up your capers?”