From Madam'zelleGiry: Day 28: Christmas cookies are going missing.

I opened the tin that should have contained the remaining two Christmas biscuits from the batch that Mrs. Hudson had given to myself and Holmes, only to find it empty. I was not amused and, as we had had no visitors that might otherwise have been blamed (not all of Holmes' Irregulars remember to ask before helping themselves), I decided to ask my companion why he had not left me one.

The detective was engaged in an experiment and, though I was rather annoyed, I waited until he was finished.

"There is something bothering you," the fellow said suddenly without even turning his head in my direction.

I admitted that there was indeed.

"One moment Watson. I am almost through," he completed his task and then turned in his chair. "What is it?"

I suddenly felt rather foolish, but my friend is aware of my fondness for sweets and desserts and my only objection was that he had not thought to leave me any of the biscuits.

"Why did you eat both of the remaining biscuits?" I asked him. "You could have at least offered me one."

"I have only had two myself," he responded with a slight frown. "I assumed that you were unable to resist them, the speed at which they have vanished."

Of course, a mystery is a mystery and the fellow could not let it rest. Holmes asked Mrs. Hudson to make up another batch and then turned to me with excitement.

"Ha ha! We shall soon discover the reason for the biscuits' inexplicable disappearance Watson."

When the biscuits were delivered by the page, it seemed that there were already some missing. Mrs. Hudson always provides us with an equal number of biscuits - usually ten or twelve, depending upon their size - so that we each have an equal number. On this occasion, there were seven.

Holmes gave me a small smile and then invited the page to enter and sit down.

"Those biscuits are deliciously tempting, are they not?"

"They do smell good sir."

Holmes nodded and patted his shoulder. "They are good. The trouble is that one is never enough."

"No sir," he agreed with a smile. "Once you've had one you have to have another. They're that good."

"They are very crumbly as well," my friend added. "It is impossible to even bite one without coating one's clothes with crumbs."

The boy looked startled and immediately began to check his uniform.

"Now you listen carefully," Holmes said in a dangerously quiet tone. "If you steal from this house again you shall spend this Christmas seeking employment elsewhere. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir! Sorry Mr. Holmes. I didn't mean to."

Holmes nodded solemnly. "I am sure that you meant no harm. Just be sure to remain honest in the future."

Of course the boy did so. Sherlock Holmes is quite unnerving when he shouts, but he is all the more so when his voice is soft. The lad has been nervous of him ever since.