“And I think it would be very much better for you to leave half these things at home and make room for poor little Teddy Gardner in the auto. I can’t imagine why you should take that nickel tube from the old vacuum cleaner with you.”
“On account of the stars,” Pee-wee said.
“You’re not going to vacuum clean the stars, are you?”
“No, but I can put a lens in it and make a telescope out of it and study the stars, can’t I? Don’t you know scouts study astronomy? You don’t suppose I’m going to listen to music all the time, do you, just because I take some old Victrola records, do you? We can eat off those, can’t we?”
By the time he had gathered up his miscellaneous equipment and repacked it, his mother had resumed her sewing upstairs, but she called to him when she heard him go forth on his path of glory:
“Walter!”
“Yop.”
“What are you eating?”
“A doughnut.”
“Did you shut the screen door?”