“To-morrer,” said Mun Bun, as he was taken off to bed later in the evening, “I’ll plant some flowers for Jimsie to smell.”
Early the next day Mrs. Bunker was seen in the kitchen with a sunbonnet on, while on the table near her were a number of small baskets.
“Are we going on a picnic?” asked Russ, who came in to get a string to fix something on the water wheel that he and Laddie were constantly “fussing over,” as Norah called it.
“A sort of picnic,” answered his mother. “Farmer Joel told me about a wild strawberry patch beyond his south meadow, and I thought we could all go there and pick the berries. There is a basket for each of us except daddy, who isn’t going, and if we get enough berries——”
“I’ll make a strawberry shortcake!” cried Rose. “Excuse me for interrupting you, Mother,” she went on, for it was impolite to do that. “But I just couldn’t wait. May I make a shortcake if we get any berries?”
“Yes, I think so,” answered Mrs. Bunker. “Come, children,” she called to the others who flocked into the kitchen, “we’ll have a good time picking strawberries.”
“We’ll have a better time when we eat the shortcake,” laughed Russ.
“I know a riddle about a shortcake,” said Laddie, wrinkling up his forehead. “I mean I just made it up. Here it is. How can you make a strawberry shortcake last the longest?”
“That isn’t a very good riddle,” objected Rose.
“Well, let’s see you answer it,” challenged her small brother. “How can you make a strawberry shortcake last longest?”