Honest, I wish you could have seen that kid. He was trying to shovel spaghetti into his mouth and it was slipping every which way.
“Take some salt in your hand so it won’t skid,” I told him.
“Whatsthinspiration?” he managed to get out.
“Go into second and don’t jam your brakes on too hard and you’ll make it,” Sandy told him.
I was laughing so hard I couldn’t speak for a couple of minutes—seeing Pee-wee eat spaghetti. I said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get any rough spaghetti but it’s very expensive.”
“How about the inspiration?” Dub wanted to know. “This expedition is getting worse and worse.”
“Yes, and even he’ll write it up in a book and expect fellers to read it,” Pee-wee said.
“It will sound all right as long as they don’t read too hard,” I said. “You read a book too hard and you spoil it—I’ll leave it to Sandy. That’s what knocks the back covers off most books.”
“This one will be the worst of any of them,” the kid said.
“Just the same,” I told him, “I’m always getting letters from Scouts who want to join my hikes. I have to refuse them because they’re not crazy enough. One fellow that lives in Nutley, New Jersey, said he could prove he was a nut. Even I wouldn’t let that fellow in.”