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 never bring what we steal back again. Heigho!" And he looked silently into the fire for some time.

By this the last mouthful of pie had disappeared; and Thekla had carried off the dish and the spoons, and put them out of sight.

"Was it good?" asked November, meeting her eye with a smile.

"Very, very good," she answered. "I never tasted any pies like it. Do you know what it is made of, sir?"

"I believe," said November, "the exact recipe runs thus: 'As little pumpkin as possible, and as much of every thing else as possible.' But it's no use your trying to make one. They don't succeed anywhere except in that country on the other side the ocean, where this came from. There they have a knack at 'em."

"Oh, tell us about the other side the ocean!" cried the children.

"I'm going to," replied November. "That's where my story happened.