"But I don't in the least mind now," said Percival, after he had eaten
about sixty-'leven pieces of the pie. "My foot is all better."
"I should think that cherry pie would make almost any one better," said
the hedgehog, laughing with joy, for he felt better, too. "I know some bad
boys to whom I'm going to give some cherry pie, and I hope it makes them
better. And to think I threw away the good part of the cherries and cooked
the stones in the pie. Oh, excuse me while I laugh again!"
And the hedgehog laughed so hard that he spilled some of the red cherry
pie juice on his shirt front, but he didn't care, for he had another
shirt.
Well, Uncle Wiggily and Percival, the old circus dog, stayed for some days
at the home of the hedgehog, and they had cherry pie, or fritters with
maple syrup, at almost every meal. Then, finally, Uncle Wiggily said:
"Well, I guess I must travel on. I can't find my fortune here. I must
start off to-morrow."
"And I'll go with you," spoke Percival. "We'll go together, and see what
we can find."
Well, he and Uncle Wiggily went on together for some time, and nothing
happened, except that they met a poor pussy cat without any tail, and
Uncle Wiggily gave her some of the pie. And the next day they met a cat
and seven little kittens, and they all had tails, so they had to have some
pie, too.
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