"Yes," said Mamma Wibblewobble, "there were just thirteen eggs, and now
there are only ten. Three have been taken, and I hope Lulu and Alice and
Jimmie didn't touch them."

"Oh, no indeed, mamma," spoke Alice very quickly, as she finished tying a
sky-blue-pink ribbon around her neck. "I never touched them."

"Neither did I," added Lulu.

"Nor me," said Jimmie. "I don't like eggs anyhow."

"I was saving them to hatch more little ducklings out of," went on Mamma
Wibblewobble, in sorrowful tones. "Now I shall have to wait. Oh, it's such
a disappointment to me!"

"Maybe they fell off the shelf," suggested Jimmie.

"No," replied his mother. "If they had fallen from the shelf out of the
basket, where I had them, the eggs would have broken, and made a mark on
the floor," and, of course, you know they would, for when an egg breaks on
the floor it makes a splish and a splash and a big yellow and white spot
that you can't help but see; now, doesn't it? So Mamma Wibblewobble knew
the eggs couldn't have fallen.

"Well," remarked Aunt Lettie, "it's very strange. Perhaps they have been
stolen. You should notify the police."

"Or tell Mr. Cock A. Doodle, the rooster," added Jimmie. "He would crow
over it; and if we offered a reward, maybe we would get the eggs back."