uddy into the den of the old fox, and soon the
little guinea pig girl was at the grocery.

She got the things, and the storekeeper put them in a paper bag for her,
and back she started.

It was so warm that, after Brighteyes had reached a cool place in the
woods, near where a little brook ran over the stones, making a gurgling
noise, very pleasant to hear, she sat down to rest. And she hadn't been
sitting there more than about ten long breaths, when she saw, beside the
stream, a tin can.

"Now I wonder what is in that can?" thought Brighteyes. "I'm going to
see. Perhaps it's something good to eat, and I can take some home to
Buddy," for she was very kind to her brother, you understand.

So she went up to the can, but wasn't she disappointed when she saw that
it was empty! The open end was on the side that was turned away from
her, and that's why at first she thought it was full. But she smelled of
the opening, and oh, what a delicious perfume there was, sweet and
sugary, and in a minute Brighteyes knew what it was.

"There has been molasses in that can!" she exclaimed. "Oh, if there's
anything I dearly love it's molasses! I wonder if there is any left
inside? Sometimes people don't quite empty the cans before they throw
them away. I'm going to look."

So Brighteyes went closer, and, would you believe me? if she didn't see,
away down in the lower edge of that can, as it rested on its side, a lot
of nice molasses.

"Oh, I must have that!" cried Brighteyes, and, without thinking of what
she was doing, she put her head and her forepaws inside that can. She
found she could reach the molasses with her tongue, and she began to
lick it up, wishing she had some way of taking part of it to Buddy.

She was so excited over it that she even had taken her things from the
grocery store inside the can with her. There she was, with only part of
her body and her hind legs sticking out, and she was eating the molasses
as fast as she could.

It kept tasting better and better, but, after a while, Brighteyes
thought she had enough, and she started to pull her head out of the can.
But, oh dear me! She found she couldn't do it. The sharp edges of the
tin caught in her fur, and there she was, stuck fast with the can over
her head, and the nutmeg, the bottle of blueing and the yeast cake in
there with her.

"Oh, dear me suz-dud!" she cried. "I'm fast!"

She tried to shake the can off, but it wouldn't shake. Then she tried to
pull h