Meat pasties, red hairy gooseberries, a stone bottle of ginger-beer, a blue mug with Philip on it in gold letters, a slice of soda cake and two farthing sugar-sticks.
'I'm sure I've seen that basket before,' said the boy as he ate.
'Like enough.

It's the one you brought them pears down in.' 'Now look here,' said Philip, through his seventh bite of pasty, 'you _must_ tell me how you got here.

And tell me where you've got to.

You've simply no idea how muddling it all is to me.

Do tell me _everything_.
Where are we, I mean, and why?
And what I've got to do.