“Oh! you shocking man, how can you talk of food in the same breath with—”
“The salt!” exclaimed Lucy with a little shriek. Was there ever a picnic at which the salt was not forgotten, or supposed to have been forgotten? Never!
Mr Sudberry’s cheerful countenance fell. He had never eaten an egg without salt in his life, and did not believe in the possibility of doing so. Everyone ransacked everything in anxious haste.
“Here it is!” (hope revived.)
“No, it’s only the pepper.” (Mitigated despair and ransacking continued.)
“Maybe it’ll be in this parcel,” suggested McAllister, holding up one which had not yet been untied.
“Oh! bring it to me, Mr Macannister!” cried Mrs Sudberry with unwonted energy, for her happiness was dependent on salt that day, coupled, of course, with weather and scenery. “Faugh! no, it’s your horrid onions, Mr MacAndrews.”
“Why, you have forgotten the potato salad, Mr Macdonald,” exclaimed Lucy.
“No, I have not: it can be made in five minutes, but not without salt. Where can the salt be? I am certain it could not have been forgotten.”
The only individual of the party who remained calmly indifferent was Master Jacky. That charming creature, having made up his mind to feed on jam tart, did not feel that there was any need for salt. An attentive observer might have noticed, however, that Jacky’s look of supreme indifference suddenly gave place to one of inexpressible glee. He became actually red in the face with hugging himself and endeavouring to suppress all visible signs of emotion. His eye had unexpectedly fallen on the paper of salt which lay on the centre of the table-cloth, so completely exposed to view that nobody saw it!