Blueberry Pie

Myrtle Rabbit hated to cook. So when she found herself in her kitchen one sunny Saturday afternoon, rummaging in her cupboards for pie pans, it was more than the warm day that made her face start to turn red. It was her bad temper beginning to rise.

"Oh, snails!" she fumed, burrowing into a bottom cupboard until only her feet remained outside. Somehow, even they looked angry as she rattled about in the depths of the cupboard. Her voice was muffled. "How did I ever manage to let myself be talked into baking pies for the pie-eating contest at the picnic tomorrow?"

At last she emerged, pie pans clutched in either paw. She plunked them down onto her kitchen table and pulled her recipe box toward her. "Apple, cherry, pumpkin, banana cream . . . Aha!" she exclaimed. "Blueberry! It's perfect! I hate blueberries!"

She began measuring ingredients, and just as she had everything ready, a commotion erupted at her front door. She ran to it as fast as she could and flung open the door in alarm.

In hopped her nephews, Jamie and Jeremy Rabbit.

"Hi, Aunt Myrtle," they cried. "What's happening?"

"I'm trying to bake some pies," she told them.

"Can we watch?" they chorused, bouncing up and down eagerly.

"Okay, okay." Myrtle said. "But calm down a little, please."

At that moment the phone rang. "Just a minute, boys." Myrtle said as she scuttled to the next room to answer it. "Don't touch anything."

Their aunt was barely out of the room when the two young rabbits began to investigate all of the carefully measured items on the table. Jeremy's whiskers began to twitch excitedly. He loved blueberries! In his eagerness to get a taste of the delectable blue globes, he bumped the bowl of sugar and plop! It fell to the floor.

Four young rabbit eyes met in wide round O's of horror. Aunt Myrtle would skin them alive!

"Quick, sweep it up!" squeaked Jamie. "I'll refill the bowl!"

As Jeremy scampered to get the broom, Jamie opened the cupboard to find the bag of sugar. He pulled it to himself and glanced at the front, but the letters S-A-L-T meant nothing to him because he hadn't learned to read yet.

He opened up the sack and looked in. Yup, that was sugar, all right.

They had everything back in place when Myrtle returned and they greeted her with sunny smiles.

Later on, Myrtle took the pies out of the oven and put them on the windowsill to cool. By now the delicious aroma of fresh hot blueberry pie filled the house and floated out the open window.

"Aunt Myrtle, look!" called out Jamie and Jeremy.

Myrtle turned just in time to see a pair of small furry paws attach to either side of one of her pies, lift it, and disappear.

"Stop, thief!" she cried, waving her hands with the oven mitts still on them. For a moment she was so furious she couldn't move. Then all of a sudden, her sense of humor overcame her and her anger disappeared.

"Off with his head," she shouted in her most regal voice. "Off with that knave's head!"

Chuckling, she turned to find Jamie and Jeremy regarding her in astonishment.

"Aunt Myrtle," said Jamie, "Why are you laughing? Aren't you mad at that boy for stealing your pie? And why does he have to take his head off?"

"Well, boys," Myrtle said, still smiling, "I'll tell you. Meanwhile, let's sit down and I'll cut both of you a big piece of pie. You know, my feelings will be hurt if you don't eat every bite!"

She cut their pie and they all sat down. Jamie and Jeremy each took a big bite and began to chew. Their jaws stopped and their eyes met as Myrtle said, "You see, there was was once this large white rabbit . . . "