Then they all sat around their grassy table, and Joe served them in fine
style, bringing them their fish smoking hot on white napkins.
How merry they were over the good things, and how eager Graham was to
cook fish for Joe, and serve the old fellow as nicely as he had done all
of them! And Phil cut the very largest slice of cake for Joe.
"It is just the jolliest picnic I ever was at," said Graham, helping to
wash and clear away, and re-stow spoons and forks.
"Of course it is," said Phil. "There never can be another quite so nice:
it is my first one, you know."
"Yes; just think of it, and it's my fiftieth, I suppose; but then you
must not think all picnics like this. It is something really remarkable
to have everything go off so smoothly. Why, sometimes all the crockery
gets smashed, or the fire won't burn, or if it does, you get the smoke
in your eyes, or your potatoes get burned, and your lemonade gets in
your milk, or somebody puts your ice in the sun, and, to crown it all,
down comes a shower."
"Dear, dear, what a chapter of accidents, Graham!"
"Are you listening, Miss Rachel?" said Graham, with a quizzical look. "I
was only letting Phil know how much better you manage than most people."
"Well, when you and Phil are ready, I want to tell you about something
else I should like to manage.
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