"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.