reached the table. Boys are _so_ hungry! Teddy knew every corner of the
pantry: if half a pie were left over from dinner, it could not possibly
be hidden under any pan, bowl, pail, or cunningly folded towel, but he
would find it before supper. Pieces of cake disappeared as if by magic,
preserves were found strangely lowered in the crocks, pickles went by
the wholesale, gingerbread never could be reckoned on after the first
day, and once--only once--did Teddy's mamma succeed in hiding a whole
baking of apple tarts in the cellar for a day by setting them under a
tub. The cellar never was a safe place again; Aunt Ann tried it with
doughnuts, and the crock was empty in two days. She put her stick
cinnamon on the top shelf in the closet, behind her medicine bottles,
and when she wanted it a week after, there was not a sliver to be
found. Then the loaf sugar--I don't know but that was the worst of all.
Did he stuff his pockets with it? did he carry it away by the capful?
It seemed incredible that anything _could_ go so fast. One day, Aunt
Ann detected Teddy behind the window curtain with a tumbler so nearly
full of sugar that the water in it only made a thick syrup, and there
he was reading "Robinson Crusoe" and sipping this delightful mixture.
From that moment Aunt Ann made up her mind that he should "stop it."

"I'll tell him it's nothing more nor less than downright STEALING--so I
will," muttered the good soul to herself; "the poor child's never had
proper teaching on the subject from one of us; he's got all his pa's
appetite without the good principles of _our_ side of the family to
save him."

So, the next day, the sugar being out, she bought two dollars' worth
while Teddy was at school, and without even telling his mother, she
searched the house for a hiding-place. She shook her head at the pantry
and cellar, but she visited the garret, and the spare front chamber;