It was a hot summer day. Mother Graymouse had taken her children out for a stroll in the fields. Only Buster remained at home. He had been naughty and was punished by being left behind.
"I'd rather lie here and read my picture book than trot around in the hot sunshine," he thought. "If only I had some candy, I would be quite happy."
After he had looked at all the pictures and read one of the shortest stories, he shut the book and began to sing softly to himself.
By-and-by he grew restless. "Oh, dear, I'm not one bit sleepy. I can't take another nap. I wish I had some candy. I wonder—"
Then he pushed Baby Squealer's high-chair over to the cupboard and climbed up until he could reach the shelf where Silver Ears had put the Christmas candy. It was gone; every single piece.
[Illustration: It was a hot summer day.]
"Oh, I know!" remembered Buster. "Ruth Giant had a birthday party last night. I think there may be some candy in the play-room. It will do no harm to look."
He stole softly into the play-room on tiptoe, lest old Thomas Cat might be prowling about and hear him. Ruth Giant was sitting among the pillows upon the couch, reading a book. Beside her was a box of splendid chocolates. Now and then she ate one.
Buster hid behind the doll's dresser and waited. At last he got impatient.
"She will eat 'em all up and I know they are real good," he fussed. "Mammy will come home and call me pretty soon. Oh, why doesn't somebody call Ruth Giant down-stairs? I wonder if she would think I was Silver Ears and toss me some candy? It can't be poison, for she is eating it her own self."