“I’ll make a strawberry shortcake!” cried Rose. “Excuse me for interrupting you, Mother,” she went on, for it was impolite to do that. “But I just couldn’t wait. May I make a shortcake if we get any berries?” “Yes, I think so,” answered Mrs. Bunker. “Come, children,” she called to the others who flocked into the kitchen, “we’ll have a good time picking strawberries.” “We’ll have a better time when we eat the shortcake,” laughed Russ. “I know a riddle about a shortcake,” said Laddie, wrinkling up his forehead. “I mean I just made it up. Here it is. How can you make a strawberry shortcake last the longest?” “That isn’t a very good riddle,” objected Rose. “Well, let’s see you answer it,” challenged her small brother. “How can you make a strawberry shortcake last longest?” “Put it away in a safe,” guessed Violet. “Nope!” answered Laddie, and before any one else could make a guess he cried: “Don’t eat it. That’s how to make a strawberry shortcake last longest—don’t eat it!” “Well, if I made a cake I wouldn’t want it to last very long,” laughed Rose. “I should want people to eat it and tell me how good it was.” “I’ll eat some,” offered Mun Bun. “So will I!” added Margy. “That’s very kind of you!” laughed Rose again, and then the six little Bunkers and their mother started for the strawberry patch. The berries grew wild on a warm, sunny hillside, and soon little fingers were busy turning over the green leaves to find the scarlet fruit beneath. Into the baskets the berries were dropped one at a time. Wild strawberries are much smaller than the cultivated variety you buy in the market, and it takes longer to fill a basket with the wild ones. But gradually the bottom of the basket Mrs. Bunker carried was covered with a layer of the delicious fruit. Then she looked into the baskets of Margy and Mun Bun. “Is that all you’ve picked?” she asked, in surprise, for Margy had three berries in her basket and Mun Bun had two in his, and yet they had been in the berry patch half an hour. “Don’t you know how to find the berries, my dears?” asked their mother. “See, you must turn over the leaves——” “Excuse me, Mother,” broke in Rose, first asking pardon for interrupting, “but I guess Margy and Mun Bun eat the berries as fast as they pick them. That’s what they’ve been doing—eating the berries, I saw them put only a few in their baskets.” “Oh, well,” said Mrs. Bunker, “we don’t expect them to pick many. We older ones will have to get you enough for your cake, Rose.” “I ate only about forty-’leven berries,” confessed Margy. “An’ I ate six-fourteen,” admitted Mun Bun. “They is awful good, these berries is, an’ maybe Rose wouldn’t make a cake, anyhow, an’——” “I see!” laughed Russ. “They were afraid they wouldn’t get their share of berries if they waited, so they’re taking them now.”