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Mother Goose in Prose

Creator: Baum, L. Frank (Lyman Frank), 1856-1919
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"They are here already; the boy has a bag full of them." "Give them to me," said the cook, who wore a square cap, that was shaped like a box, upon his head. "What do you want with them?" asked Gilligren. "I want them for a pie for the King's dinner," answered Mister Baker; "His Majesty ordered the dish, and I have hunted all over London for the blackbirds, but could not find them. Now that you have brought them, however, you have saved me my position as cook, and perhaps my head as well." "But it would be cruel to put the beautiful birds in a pie," remonstrated Gilligren, "and I shall not give them to you for such a purpose." "Nonsense!" replied the cook, "the King has ordered it; he is very fond of the dish." "Still, you cannot have them," declared the boy stoutly, "the birds are mine, and I will not have them killed." "But what can I do?" asked the cook, in perplexity; "the King has ordered a blackbird pie, and your birds are the only blackbirds in
What Every Woman Knows

WHAT EVERY WOMAN KNOWS JAMES M. BARRIE ACT I (James Wylie is about to make a move on the dambrod, and in the little Scotch room there is an awful silence befitting the occasion. James with his hand poised--for if he touches a piece he has to play it, Alick will see to that--raises his red head suddenly to read Alick's face. His father, who is Alick, is pretending to be in a panic lest James should make this move. James grins heartlessly, and his fingers are about to close on the 'man' when some instinct of self-preservation makes him peep once more. This time Alick is caught: the unholy ecstasy on his face tells as plain as porridge that he has been luring James to destruction. James glares; and, too late, his opponent is a simple old father again. James mops his head, sprawls in the manner most conducive to thought in the Wylie family, and, protruding his underlip, settles down to a reconsideration of
London." Gilligren thought deeply for a moment, and conceived what he thought to be a very good idea. If the sixpence was to make his fortune, then this was his great opportunity. "You can have the blackbirds on two conditions," he said. "What are they?" asked the cook. "One is that you will not kill the birds. The other condition is that you secure me a position in the King's household." "How can I put live birds in a pie?" enquired the cook. "Very easily, if you make the pie big enough to hold them. You can serve the pie after the King has satisfied his hunger with other dishes, and it will amuse the company to find live birds in the pie when they expected cooked ones." "It is a risky experiment," exclaimed the cook, "for I do not know the new King's temper. But the idea may please His Majesty, and since you will not allow me to kill the birds, it is the best thing I can do. As for your other condition, you seem to be a very bright boy, and so I will have the butler take you as his page, and you shall stand back of the King's chair and keep the flies away while he eats."