We all climbed inside a small room. When he had closed the window, and pulled down the shade, Ed Mason lighted a match. "The pantry!" we all exclaimed. "Yes, we've landed on our feet at last. Is that shade down? Light the gas ... keep it turned low,--that's right. Now, let's see. We won't find much,--family's gone away ... taken all the pie with 'em, as I said, still, there ought to be something--" We were all rummaging amongst the shelves and cupboards. "Hum!" said Mr. Daddles, "stove-polish. Anybody want any stove- polish? Raw oatmeal,--that's a little better, but not much. Not much choice between 'em. What's this? ... Starch. Nice lot of nutritious food Aunt Fanny leaves for her burglars. Now, with some flat-irons and a couple of stove-lids we could make up a jolly little meal. What have you got there?" I had found some dried currants in a tin box, Jimmy had a bottle of vanilla extract, while Ed Mason exhibited a box of tapioca, or something of the sort. "Well, well,--this is more careless of Aunt Fanny than leaving the window unlocked. No wonder she left it unlocked,--she wanted burglars to come in, and choke to death. I never saw such a lot of foolish food. Here's some raw macaroni,--another toothsome dish-- nutmegs--pepper--sticky fly-paper,--better and better. Perfectly delicious!" "Here you are!" said Ed Mason. He had found a cake-box, with half a loaf of pound-cake,--the kind that keeps for years. Just at the same instant I had climbed up on a shelf and captured two glass tumblers whose contents seemed promising. Sure enough,--their labels bore the fascinating words: "Raspberry Jam." Jimmy Toppan presently discovered a can of soda- crackers. Mr. Daddles plunged once more into a cupboard and came forth with a can of the stuff you shine brass with,--the kind with the horrible smell. "Always fortunate," he murmured; "well, this will do,--what you've discovered. I don't seem to have contributed much to the picnic. We'll get some water to drink, and take this into the dining-room. I'm about ready to sit down and rest. Come on,--softly, now. Turn out the light. ... Here's the kitchen ... no, it isn't, either,-- it's a laundry. ... That's funny ... been making improvements, I guess. Here we are--give me another match. No, don't light the gas,--no need ... and here's--what's this? Butler's pantry ... yes ... passage ... here's the dining-room. Here we are. Shades down? Yes ... light the gas ... hullo! Where's the old stuffed sea gull gone? New paper! Oh, well, it's two years since I was here." Mr. Daddles wandered around the room for a while, with a puzzled air, but the rest of us were too hungry to pay much attention to him. Ed Mason filled a water-pitcher in the butler's pantry, and Jimmy brought some tumblers from a closet. I opened the jam, and got some plates and knives. Then we all sat down and began to eat. I have never tasted anything better than the crackers and jam. Nobody said anything for a few minutes: we just ate.