"To what do you refer?" said Hector,--"the scenery, the weather, or the prospect of dinner?" "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! "Why, here it is, actually before our eyes!" shouted George, seizing the paper and holding it up. A small cheer greeted its discovery. A groan instantly followed, as George spilt the whole of it. As it fell on the cloth, however, it was soon gathered up, and then Mr Sudberry ordered everyone to sit down on the grass in a circle round the cloth. "What a good boy Jacky has suddenly become!" remarked Lucy in some surprise. "Darling!" ejaculated his mother. "A _very_ good little fellow," said Flora, with a peculiar smile. Jacky said nothing. Hector's eye was upon him, as was his upon Hector. Deep unutterable thoughts filled his swelling heart, but he spoke not. He merely gazed at the jam tart, a large portion of which was in a few minutes supplied to him. The immediate result was crimson hands, arms, and cheeks.