"What is it? Have you found the spring of the secret door?" cried
Rudolf, running to him.
"Nope," said Peter. "It's nicer than that, it's a cake. I found it
right here on this little shelf that you went past and never noticed."
"Oh, Peter," Ann scolded, "I think you are the very greediest little
boy I ever knew!"
"That cake belongs to Manunderthebed, and you know it," said Rudolf
sternly. "It's a dream cake, of course, a Bad-dream cake, so you can't
eat it."
Peter clasped the small round cake tightly to his breast.
"It's a nice seed-cake like Cook makes," he said stubbornly, "and I
_must_ eat it."
"The seeds in it are poppy-seeds," explained Rudolf, "and you'll go
to sleep and dream Bad Dreams forever, like the Knight-mare said, so
you _sha'n't_ eat it!" He tried to get the cake away from his naughty
little brother who only grasped it the more tightly. There would have
been a quarrel, and a fierce one, if it had not been for Ann.
"I tell you," said she, "let's try it on the animals!"
This seemed a really bright idea, and Rudolf agreed at once, though
Peter considered it wasteful. Ann had to coax some time, but at last
she persuaded him to part with his cake. Rudolf would not trust Peter
with the distributing, so he piled three fat dictionaries that lay on
the table one on top of another and climbed upon them himself,
managing in this way to bring his eye to the level of the little
window.
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