The box was perfectly empty.

"Why, the idea!" sputtered the outraged Twaddles, who felt distinctly
cheated. "I wonder if Mother knows we haven't any cake. I'd better go
and tell her."

But he didn't--not right away. For there were other boxes on the
various shelves, and Twaddles felt it was his duty to peep into these
to see what he could find. He was disappointed in most of them because
they held such uninteresting things as rice and barley and coffee,
nothing that a starving person could eat with any pleasure.

Then at last he thought 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?"