Why ""there should have been a hundred houses in Fairmount Avenue this side of the State Highway;"" why Rose and Kenneth ""counted. . . and found there were only ninety-nine"" are never explained, nor is the next statement: ""So the whole of Fairmount had only 1999 houses, instead of 2000."" If you'll accept the absence of a house as fact, what comes after is fresh, offhand fancy, especially in the cheery colors and modulated grays of Fritz Wegner. Rose and Kenneth, stalked by several of their schoolmates (each a distinct personality), locate the empty lot, find the next day that a cottage has appeared, find that the cottage is made of candy. They only nibble, but once the whole school is alerted the butterscotch steps and peppermint nails and plum candy door disappear fast. The house is gone and the lot is empty again. Altogether as insinuating and ephemeral as the chocolate that melts before the children can swallow it.