But the excitement of the feast had gripped Samkim, and he ran to his place at table between Arula and the two stoats, knotting a napkin about his neck as he called out, “Hey, Mrs. Spinney, are those apple turnovers hot? Pass me one, will you please. Oho, look at our Great Hall cake, Arula. It’s the best one in all Mossflower, isn’t it, Friar Bellows?”

Farther down the table, the Foremole and his crew were setting to with a will.

“Yurr, Grunel, pass oi some damsen pudden, hurr hurr!”

“Moi o moi, wot wunnerful unnycream. Oi spreads it on ever’think.”

“Gurrout, you’m be a-spreaden et on moi veggible pastie!”

“Yurr, zurr hotter, you’m been at this soup agin?”

Bremmun was demonstrating a special traveling hare snack to two openmouthed fieldmice. “When I was your age I saw a traveling hare do this when he visited us one Nameday. Hares are real gluttons. Watch! First he took a good flat apple turnover like this—pass me that meadowcream—then he spread it thick and stuck a pair of blackberry tarts on it, like this. Next he ladled it with honey, so, then he placed a huge slice of hazelnut and pear flan on top and ate the lot. Just like this! Mmmfff, snnninch, grooff!”

Dingeye, his face shrouded in whipped strawberry cream, was bolting down candied chestnuts and mintcream wafers at the same time. Thura was dipping a hot vegetable pastie into honeyed plums and woodland trifle, stopping now and then to gulp down great swigs of dandelion and burdock.

“Phwaw! Mucker! This is the life. Good ol’ Redwall, that’s wot I say!”

“Yer right there, mucker. It was almost worth washin’ all those greasy pans for, an’ gettin’ a bath too!”

“Nothin’s worth gettin’ a bath for, bubblenose. Yowch! That’s me paw yore tryin’ to eat!”

Arula watched the two stoats glowering at each other. The little molemaid took her nose out of a slice of Great Hall cake long enough to chuckle.

“Oi must tell Froir Bellers about that un. Stoatpaw pudden, hurrhurr! Yurr, Dumble, get you’m nose out’n moi drink!”

The infant dormouse guzzled the last of Arula’s cider and started making inroads upon the Abbess’s elderberry wine. “I’m firsty, tumble firsty!”

Burrley mole and Tudd Spinney had cornered a great heap of cheeses and October ale, which they sampled judiciously.

“Ho, Maister Tudd, try’ee big yeller cheese wi’ chesknutters innit. Et be a gurt fav’rite o’ moin.”

The old hedgehog blew the foam off a flagon of ale. “Hmm, nice ’n’ nutty. ’Ave some o’ my special field-white cheese wi’ celery an’ onion—very tasty wi’ that oatbread.”