them down.

And one warm day he is writing away and not noticing what time it is
when he thinks he hears somebody step in the door. So then he looks
around, and he sees a little straw hat and a little round red face under
it, and then he sees a basket, and right away he knows it is the Little
Lady. And the Little Lady says:

"I've brought the picnic--did you know it?"

"Why, no!" the Story Teller says, looking surprised. "Is it time?"

"Yes, and I've got huckleberries and cream, and some hot biscuits."

"Good gracious! Let's see!"

So then the Story Teller looks, and, sure enough, there they are, and
more things, too; and pretty soon the Little Lady and he go down to a
very quiet place under some hemlock-trees by a big rock where there is a
clear brook and a spring close by, and they sit down, and the Little
Lady spreads the picnic all out--and there is ham too, and
bread-and-butter, and doughnuts and they are so hungry that they eat
everything, and both dip into one bowl when they get to huckleberries
and cream.

Then the Little Lady says:

"Now tell me about the Hollow Tree People; they have picnics, too."

"Sure enough, they do. And I think I'll have to tell you about their
very last picnic and what happened."

Well, once upon a time Mr. 'Possum said that he was getting tired of
sitting down to a table every meal in a close room with the smell of
cooking coming in, and if Mr. Crow would cook up a few things that would
taste good cold he'd pack the basket (that is, Mr. 'Possum would) and
Mr. 'Coon could carry it, and they'd go out somewhere and eat their
dinner in a nice place under the trees.

Mr. 'Coon said he knew a pleasant place to go, and Mr. Crow said he'd
cook one of Mr. Man's chickens, which Mr. 'Possum had brought home the
night before, though it would take time, he said, because it was pretty
old--Mr. 'Possum having picked it out in the dark in a hurry.

[Illustration: AND HE TASTED OF THAT A LITTLE, TOO]

So then they all flew around and put away things, and Mr. Crow got the
chicken on while Mr. 'Coon sliced the bread and Mr. 'Possum cut the
cake, which they had been saving for Sunday, and he picked out a pie
too, and a nice book to read which Mr. Crow had found lying in Mr. Man's
yard while the folks were at dinner. Then he packed the basket all neat
and nice, and ate a little piece of the cake when Mr. 'Coon had stepped
out to see how the chicken was coming along, and when the chicken was