“Our heavenly Father, we thank Thee for these evening blessings—” the boys looked up and four forks started simultaneously for the meat platter. Every fork impaled its slice. Mary gasped. She crammed her handkerchief into her mouth to shut off the laughter that almost shouted itself before she could stop it.
The oldest boy, a burly fellow of fifteen, looked astonished and then sheepish. The other three looked defiance at him. Each sat erect in perfect silence and held his slice to the platter with a firm hand. Mary, almost suffocating with laughter which must be suppressed, watched anxiously for the denouement. The blessing went on. The boys evidently knew all its stages. As it advanced there was a tightening of the tension and at the welcome “amen” there was a grand rake-off.
At the commotion of the sudden swipe the father and mother looked up in amazement.
“Boys, boys! what do you mean!” exclaimed the mother.
“We got even with Mr. Jake that time.” It was the second boy who spoke.
“We got ahead of him,” said the third. “He didn't get the biggest piece this time.”
“No, I got it myself,” said the fourth.
“Well, I'm scandalized,” said the mother, looking across the table at her husband.
“Well, Mother, I'll tell you how it was,” said the second boy. “Last night I looked up before Father was through with the blessing and I saw Jake with his fork in the biggest piece of ham. You and Father didn't notice and so he was it. I'll bet he's been at it a good while, too.”
“I've not, either,” said the accused.