world was born?" That was an easy one; so I said in a tone of
finality: "There wasn't anything." Then I went on with my
meditations, thinking I had used the soft pedal effectively. Silence
reigned supreme for some minutes, and then was rudely shattered. His
thumb flew from his mouth, and he laughed so lustily that he could be
heard throughout the house. When his laughter had spent itself
somewhat, I asked meekly: "What are you laughing at?" His answer
came on the instant, but still punctuated with laughter: "I was
laughing to see how funny it was when there wasn't anything." No
wonder that folks want children to be seen but not heard. And some
folks are scandalized because a chap like that doesn't like to wash
his neck and ears.




CHAPTER XVIII

PICNICS

The code of table etiquette in the days of my boyhood, as I now
recall it, was expressed something like: "Eat what is set before you
and ask no questions." We heeded this injunction with religious
fidelity, but yearned to ask why they didn't set more before us.
About the only time that a real boy gets enough to eat is when he
goes to a picnic and, even there and then, the rounding out of the
programme is connected with clandestine visits to the baskets after
the formal ceremonies have been concluded. At a picnic there is no
such expression as "from soup to nuts," for there is no soup, and
perhaps no nuts, but there is everything else in tantalizing