lady goat, wanted Lulu and Alice and Jimmie to
have a good time, so one day she fixed them up a basket of lunch to take
off in the woods and eat. She made some jam tarts--oh, such lovely, flaky
ones!--and there were cookies and bread and butter and I don't know what
all. I just wish I had that basket of lunch now, don't you? But, of
course, we wouldn't want to take it away from the duck children, would we?

So they started off, and as they passed by Nero, he opened one eye--only
one, mind you, and looked at them. And he said: "I am feeling a little
hungry, but I don't s'pose you have anything for me."

"Yes," said Lulu, "you may have a jam tart because you saved our house
from burning up."

So they gave Nero one tart, and he gobbled it up as quickly as you can
cross your "t" or dot your "i" when you're writing in school.

Pretty soon, well, not so very long, you know, the three duck children
came to the woods. Oh, the woods were the nicest place you ever saw!

There was a little brook running in and out among the trees, and it
sounded like music when it went over the stones. Well, they sat down on
the grass, near a mossy old stump, and ate their lunch, until there wasn't
even so much as a crumb of a jam tart left. They had just gotten through
when, all of a sudden, they heard a big noise. It was like some one
stamping his feet down and breaking sticks.

The duck children were terribly frightened, for they thought maybe it was
an elephant or a rhinoceros coming along, but Jimmie peeked through the
bushes and whispered to his sisters:

"It's a big boy!"

"What's he doing?" asked Alice.

"I guess he's going fishing," said Lulu, "for he has a fish pole over his
shoulder."

And, sure enough, that boy was going fishing! He walked on a little
farther, stepping on sticks and breaking them, and then he sat down on the
edge of the little brook and began to fish. Then the duck children weren't
so much afraid, and they watched him.

Pretty soon the boy pulled up his line with a jerk, but there wasn't
anything on it. Then he said:

"Oh, dear! That was a big fish, but he got away."

"I'm glad it got away," whispered Alice, "for I don't like to see the poor
fish caught."

Then, in about two quacks and a waddle, the boy pulled up his pole again,
and this time he didn't have anything on the hook, either. So he said
again:

"Oh, dear me, and an angle worm! That's two big fish that have gotten
loose."

Then he threw