"
"Oh, yes, you do," said the lady. "I make pies, and if you like I'll
make one now."
"Will you, really?" cried Flop. "Oh, I would dearly love an apple
pie, with a bit of sour milk cheese."
"Then you shall have it," said the lady, as she trilled out a little
tune by whistling until it sounded like a bird in the lilac bush.
"Have you any apples?" she asked, puckering up her lips.
"Yes!" exclaimed Flop. "Here they are!" and he brought out a
basketful. The lady said they would make a lovely pie, so she rolled
up her sleeves, and spoke, saying:
"Now, I am sorry, but I would like you all to leave the bungalow.
You, Uncle Wiggily, and you, also, Flop and Curly. For when I make
apple pies I get all kerslostrated--which means fussed--if any one
is around. So kindly run away, and when you come back the pie will
be ready for you."
"All right; we'll go," said Uncle Wiggily. "I'll go pull my
motorboat up on dry land, so it won't get caught in the ice when the
lake freezes this winter, and you boys can help me.
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