onds before it had been placed on the table by Hashem himself.
"It was my m-m-asterpiece," sobbed Hashem, tearing off his cap and throwing his apron over his head.
"Help! Robbers! Thieves!" cried Stirem and Friem, running to the window.
Here was a howdedo. The trumpets blowing for the celebration to begin and the best part of the celebration gone!
"We'll all be dipped for this!" wailed Eejabo, flinging open the second best china closet so violently that three silver cups and a pewter mug tumbled out. Just then there was a scream from Hashem, who had removed the apron from his head. "Look!" he shrieked. "There it is!"
Back to the table rushed the other three, Stirem and Friem rubbing their eyes and Eejabo his head where the cups had bumped him severely. Upon the table stood the the royal cake, as pink and perfect as ever.
"It was there all the time, mince my eyebrows!" spluttered Hashem in an injured voice. "Called me a Chittimong, did you?” Grasping a big wooden spoon he ran angrily at Eejabo he ran angrily at Eejabo.
"Was it gone or wasn't it?" cried Eejabo, appealing to the others and hastily catching up a bread knife to
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