"Oh no, indeed!" replied Mrs. Idiot. "We've had peas and beets and beans and egg-plant and corn--almost everything, in fact, including potatoes." "Yes, ma'am," said the Idiot, "almost everything, including potatoes. Our pea crop was lovely. We had five podfuls for dinner on the Fourth of July, and the children celebrated the day by podding them for the cook. They popped open almost as noisily as a torpedo. It was really very enjoyable. Indeed, one of the results of that pea crop has been to give me an idea by which I may some day redeem my losses on the asparagus-bed. An explosive pea which should be edible, and yet would pop open with the noise of a small fire-cracker, would be a delight to the children and serviceable for the table. I don't exactly know how to bring about the desired results, but it seems to me if I were to mix a little saltpetre in the water with which we irrigate our pea-trees the required snap would be obtained. Then on the Fourth of July the children, instead of burning their fingers and filling their parents with nervous dread setting off fire-crackers, could sit out on the back piazza and shell the peas for the cook--" "I'd rather shell Spangyards," said Mollie. "I am surprised at you, my child," said the Idiot. "A little girl like you should be an advocate of peace, not of war." "You can't eat Spaniards, either, can you, pa?" said Tommy, who, while he shared Mollie's views as to the comparative value for shelling purposes of peas and Spaniards, was nevertheless quite interested in the development of a pea-pod that would open with a bang. "No, Tommy," said the Idiot, "you can't eat Spaniards, and they'd be sure to disagree with you if you could." "That is a very interesting proposition of yours," said Mr. Brief, "but it has its dangers. A dynamite pea would prove very attractive so long as its explosive qualities were confined to the pod and its opening. But how are you going to keep the saltpetre out of the peas themselves?" "That is where the difficulty comes in," said the Idiot. "I frankly don't know how we could insulate the peas from the effects of the saltpetre." [Illustration: "'IT WOULD BE DEUCEDLY AWKWARD ... IF THEY WOULD EXPLODE IN THE MOUTH OF THE PERSON WHO WAS EATING THEM'"] "It would be deucedly awkward," observed the Bibliomaniac, "if, as might very well happen, one or two of the peas should become so thoroughly impregnated with the stuff that they would explode in the mouth of the person who was eating them, like bombs in miniature." [Illustration: "'SHE COULD SLAM THEM DOWN ON THE HEARTH-STONES LIKE TORPEDOES'"]