he had found something he could eat. It was in
a smooth, round glass jar with a screw lid and was a clear jelly-like
substance that looked as though it might be marmalade or honey or some
kind of jam.

He opened the jar without trouble and sniffed at the contents. It
smelled very good indeed. Twaddles plunged in an investigating finger.

The jam stuck to his finger. Still, Twaddles could not get enough off
to taste, and he had liberally covered all the other fingers on that
hand before he pulled away from the jar.

"That certainly is funny jam," he puzzled, trying to scrape his fingers
clean with the other hand.

"Twaddles!" called Mother Blossom. "Oh, Twaddles, where are you?
Aren't you going to help me toast marshmallows?"

Twaddles backed out of the pantry, into Norah who had come downstairs,
freshly gowned, to start her supper.

"Glory be!" she ejaculated. "Twaddles, what have you been up to now?
If you've been messing in my pantry, I'll tell your mother. What's
that all over your hands?"

"Jam," said Twaddles meekly.

Norah eyed him with suspicion.

"There's no jam there," she said. "Come over here to the light where I
can see ye."

Norah took Twaddles' wrists in her hands gingerly, for he was a very
sticky child, and turned his hands over to examine them.

"Jam, is it!" she snorted indignantly. "You just go and show yourself
to your mother. See what she says about the jam. I declare, you can't
keep a thing from the young ones in this house!"

Twaddles was glad to escape from the kitchen before Norah should
discover the many things out of place in her pantry, and he went into
the living-room, carefully holding out his gummy hands before him, to
find his mother.

"Now, Mother," he began hesitatingly, "I was real hungry, so I thought
I'd eat a little piece of cake. I knew you wouldn't mind."

"I didn't know we had any cake in the house," said Mother Blossom, in
surprise.

"We haven't," explained Twaddles hastily. "So then I thought bread and
jam would be nice. But I never saw such funny jam; I can't get it off."

Then, as Norah had exclaimed, Mother Blossom cried: "What in the world
have you been into, Twaddles?"

She looked at his sticky fingers and then burst out laughing.

"My dear child," she said seriously, "I'm afraid you've found Daddy's
pot of glue!"

And that is just what Twaddles had been into, and a fine time he and
Mother had getting the sticky stuff off his fingers.