“Pshaw! he’d never have guessed it. He hasn’t guessed one yet.”
“Just wanted to give the rest of you a show,” replied Chub, amiably. “Don’t you know any more, doctor?”
“Let me see,” said the doctor. “I used to know some. Here’s one; perhaps you all know it, however.”
“Do I know it, papa?” asked Harry.
“If you do you mustn’t tell. Now then: What throat trouble did George Washington have when he chopped down the cherry-tree?”
Nobody knew, and the doctor had to dispel their ignorance.
“Why, a hacking cough, to be sure. And what remedy did his father give him?”
“A licking,” said Chub. “Hand me the prize, please.”
“Oh, no; this was a remedy for throat trouble. He gave him cherry bawl-some.”
“That’s great,” laughed Chub.
The conundrums continued until Dick asked one that broke up the meeting. That was: “How long will it take to get Chub up in the morning if we don’t go to bed right away?”
