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." "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." "Shall I run for the doctor?"
"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. Ribby explained that her guest had swallowed a patty-pan. Dr. Maggotty hopped so fast that Ribby had to run. It was most conspicuous. All the village could see that Ribby was fetching the doctor. But while Ribby had been hunting for the doctor—a curious thing had happened to Duchess, who had been left by herself, sitting before the fire, sighing and groaning and feeling very unhappy. "How COULD I have swallowed it! such a large thing as a patty-pan!" She sat down again, and stared mournfully at the grate. The fire crackled and danced, and something sizz-z-zled! Duchess started! She opened the door of the TOP oven;—out came a rich steamy flavour of veal and ham, and there stood a fine brown pie,— and through a hole in the top of the pie-crust there was a glimpse of a little tin patty-pan! Duchess drew a long breath—
"Then I must have been eating MOUSE! . . . No wonder I feel ill. . . . But perhaps I should feel worse if I had really swallowed a patty-pan!" Duchess reflected—"What a very awkward thing to have to explain to Ribby! I think I will put MY pie in the back-yard and say nothing about it. When I go home, I will run round
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