But I am not going to preach any more. I am going
down-stairs to make some sponge-cake for the picnic you and Lisa and I
are going to have to-morrow."
"A picnic! a real one in the woods?"
"Yes, and here comes Graham with a basket. I wonder what is in it.
Good-bye. I will send him up to you."
Graham came up in a few moments with the basket on his arm.
"Guess what I have here, Phil."
"How can I?"
"Oh yes, you can--just guess."
"Something to eat?"
"No, little piggy; or rather yes, if you choose."
"Well, chickens or eggs?"
"No, neither."
"Fruit?"
"Guess again."
"Medicine for some of your father's sick people?"
"No."
"Flowers? Oh no, one cannot eat flowers if they choose. I give it up."
"Well, then, watch," and lifting the cover slowly, three cunning white
rabbits poked their little twitching noses over the edge of the basket.
Phil gazed at them delightedly. "And you call those little darlings
something to eat, do you?"
"If you choose, yes."
"As if any one could choose to be such a cannibal! What precious little
beauties they are! Oh, how pretty they look!"
"They are for you."
"Really! Oh, thank you, Graham. But you must ask Miss Schuyler."
"I did, and I am to build them a hutch. Until I do, there is an empty
box in the barn where they can stay.
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