The Tale of the Pie and the Patty Pan | Page 3

a most genteel little
tap-tappity. "Is Mrs. Ribston at home?" inquired Duchess in the porch.
"Come in! and how do you do, my dear Duchess?" cried Ribby. "I hope
I see you well?"
"Quite well, I thank you, and how do you do, my dear Ribby?" said
Duchess. "I've brought you some flowers; what a delicious smell of
pie!"
[Illustration: DUCHESS IN THE PORCH]
"Oh, what lovely flowers! Yes, it is mouse and bacon!"
"Do not talk about food, my dear Ribby," said Duchess; "what a lovely
white tea-cloth!... Is it done to a turn? Is it still in the oven?"
"I think it wants another five minutes," said Ribby. "Just a shade longer;
I will pour out the tea, while we wait. Do you take sugar, my dear
Duchess?"
"Oh yes, please! my dear Ribby; and may I have a lump upon my
nose?"
"With pleasure, my dear Duchess; how beautifully you beg! Oh, how
sweetly pretty!"
[Illustration]
Duchess sat up with the sugar on her nose and sniffed--
"How good that pie smells! I do love veal and ham--I mean to say
mouse and bacon--"
[Illustration]
She dropped the sugar in confusion, and had to go hunting under the
tea-table, so did not see which oven Ribby opened in order to get out
the pie.
Ribby set the pie upon the table; there was a very savoury smell.
Duchess came out from under the table-cloth munching sugar, and sat
up on a chair.
"I will first cut the pie for you; I am going to have muffin and
marmalade," said Ribby.
"Do you really prefer muffin? Mind the patty-pan!"
[Illustration]
"I beg your pardon?" said Ribby.
"May I pass you the marmalade?" said Duchess hurriedly.
The pie proved extremely toothsome, and the muffins light and hot.
They disappeared rapidly, especially the pie!

"I think"--(thought the Duchess to herself)--"I think it would be wiser if
I helped myself to pie; though Ribby did not seem to notice anything
when she was cutting it. What very small fine pieces it has cooked into!
I did not remember that I had minced it up so fine; I suppose this is a
quicker oven than my own."
[Illustration]
"How fast Duchess is eating!" thought Ribby to herself, as she buttered
her fifth muffin.
[Illustration]
The pie-dish was emptying rapidly! Duchess had had four helps already,
and was fumbling with the spoon. "A little more bacon, my dear
Duchess?" said Ribby.
"Thank you, my dear Ribby; I was only feeling for the patty-pan."
[Illustration: WHERE IS THE PATTY-PAN?]
"The patty-pan? my dear Duchess?"
"The patty-pan that held up the pie-crust," said Duchess, blushing
under her black coat.
"Oh, I didn't put one in, my dear Duchess," said Ribby; "I don't think
that it is necessary in pies made of mouse."
Duchess fumbled with the spoon--"I can't find it!" she said anxiously.
"There isn't a patty-pan," said Ribby, looking perplexed.
"Yes, indeed, my dear Ribby; where can it have gone to?" said
Duchess.
[Illustration]
"There most certainly is not one, my dear Duchess. I disapprove of tin
articles in puddings and pies. It is most undesirable--(especially when
people swallow in lumps!)" she added in a lower voice.
Duchess looked very much alarmed, and continued to scoop the inside
of the pie-dish.
"My Great-aunt Squintina (grandmother of Cousin Tabitha
Twitchit)--died of a thimble in a Christmas plum-pudding. I never put
any article of metal in my puddings or pies."
Duchess looked aghast, and tilted up the pie-dish.
"I have only four patty-pans, and they are all in the cupboard."
Duchess set up a howl.
"I shall die! I shall die! I have swallowed a patty-pan! Oh, my dear
Ribby, I do feel so ill!"

"It is impossible, my dear Duchess; there was not a patty-pan."
Duchess moaned and whined and rocked herself about.
"Oh I feel so dreadful, I have swallowed a patty-pan!"
"There was nothing in the pie," said Ribby severely.
"Yes there _was_, my dear Ribby, I am sure I have swallowed it!"
"Let me prop you up with a pillow, my dear Duchess; where do you
think you feel it?"
"Oh I do feel so ill all over me, my dear Ribby; I have swallowed a
large tin patty-pan with a sharp scalloped edge!"
[Illustration]
"Shall I run for the doctor? I will just lock up the spoons!"
"Oh yes, yes! fetch Dr. Maggotty, my dear Ribby: he is a Pie himself,
he will certainly understand."
Ribby settled Duchess in an armchair before the fire, and went out and
hurried to the village to look for the doctor.
She found him at the smithy.
He was occupied in putting rusty nails into a bottle of ink, which he
had obtained at the post office.
"Gammon? ha! HA!" said he, with his head on one