He waited some more, and thought it was quite rude of the rabbits to be so late. The rock pile wasn't that far away. He ate another pear, and rearranged the basket again.

The sun was now not so high overhead, but was moving a little to the west, making interesting shadows on the picnic blanket.

An ant came to investigate the pear cores that PearBear had stacked neatly on his plate. PearBear shooed it away. Still no picnic guests.

PearBear wondered if the dratted foxes had frightened them. Or worse. Now he began to worry. He also began to be hungry, looking at all the picnic food just sitting there. He decided to pour a cup of milk and eat his peanut butter honey sandwich. He could eat very slowly, he thought.

The afternoon wore on, and no rabbits appeared at all. PearBear was angry and disappointed. And then he was worried, by turns. The shadows were quite long by now. Several more ants came to the picnic.

"You may be the only guests at this picnic," sad PearBear. "Do help yourselves."

Finally, he moved to the next place on the blanket, and ate the sandwich there, too. And the pear. And the cookie. And drank the milk, which was no longer cold. More ants came.

"You're quite welcome," said PearBear, now very sure the rabbits had forgotten, or something dreadful had happened to them.

By the time the sun had moved to the tops of the hills, all the pears were gone, as well as the sandwiches and cookies. The milk was all gone, too.

"Oh well," sighed PearBear, "I might as well pack up and go home. I guess I won't need supper tonight."

He packed up the dishes, and shook the ants off the blanket. He made a neat pile of the pear cores for the ants, and the birds, and started home. He didn't even feel a poem coming on.

Halfway across the meadow, he saw one of the fox family. "Hey there!" he called. "Have you seen the three rabbits?"

"Why no," said the fox. "But I'd sure like to. Would you tell me if you see them first?"

"Fat chance!" exclaimed PearBear. Then he thought he would just take a detour and walk over to the rock pile where the rabbits had their snug, fox-proof burrow, to see if they were safe.

"Hey rabbits!" he called, at the opening. "Are you there?"

A small black wriggling nose appeared, then two more. "We are here. We saw the fox go by. We are so looking forward to your picnic tomorrow. We have never had peanut butter honey sandwiches. What's a sandwich, anyhow? We aren't afraid of the foxes when you are there. You will walk us home afterward, won't you?"

"Tomorrow?" said PearBear.

"Oh, yes," replied a rabbit. "And we won't be late either."

"Tomorrow?" said PearBear again.

"Yes. You said when the sun was directly over our heads, and there were no shadows. Isn't that right?"

"Oh. Oh yes," replied PearBear. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And he went on home to make more sandwiches and repack the picnic things. It was a good thing he had practiced having a picnic today, so it would all go well tomorrow.

It was also a good thing that he had picked an extra basket of pears to ripen.

The End.