Duchess considered and considered and read Ribby's letter again--

"A pink and white pie-dish--and _you_ shall eat it _all_. 'You' means
me--then Ribby is not going to even taste the pie herself? A pink and
white pie-dish! Ribby is sure to go out to buy the muffins.... Oh what
a good idea! Why shouldn't I rush along and put my pie into Ribby's
oven when Ribby isn't there?"

[Illustration]

Duchess was quite delighted with her own cleverness!

Ribby in the meantime had received Duchess's answer, and as soon as
she was sure that the little dog could come--she popped _her_ pie into
the oven. There were two ovens, one above the other; some other knobs
and handles were only ornamental and not intended to open. Ribby put
the pie into the lower oven; the door was very stiff.

"The top oven bakes too quickly," said Ribby to herself. "It is a pie
of the most delicate and tender mouse minced up with bacon. And I have
taken out all the bones; because Duchess did nearly choke herself with
a fish-bone last time I gave a party. She eats a little fast--rather
big mouthfuls. But a most genteel and elegant little dog; infinitely
superior company to Cousin Tabitha Twitchit."

[Illustration: THE PIE MADE OF MOUSE]

Ribby put on some coal and swept up the hearth. Then she went out
with a can to the well, for water to fill up the kettle.