the wind, are no mean substitute for sand beaches. Let us be practical; no one can eat the surf! And the most important matter in a picnic is to have plenty of food.
Let me state, in passing, that the ideal picnic lunch is always packed in a shoebox; there should be included an opener for root-beer bottles, and doughnuts calculated on a basis of three for each adult. Inside the ring of each doughnut should be packed a hard-boiled egg. Each party should include one person (preferably an aunt) of prudent instincts, to whom may be entrusted the money for return carfares, Ada's knitting bag, Ada's young man's wrist watch and registration card in draft Class 4A, father's spare cigar for the home voyage, grandmother's pneumatic cushion and Cousin Janet's powder-papers and copy of Spumy Stories. This prudent person will form a headquarters and great general staff, a strong defensive position upon which the maneuvers of the excursion will be based.
The first thing that always strikes me at Willow Grove is how amazingly well dressed everybody is. The frocks, hats and ankles of the young ladies are a vision of rapture. The young men, too, are well dressed, in the best possible style, which is, of course, the uniform of Uncle Sam. The last time I was there it was a special celebration day for the marines. Several hundred of them were loping about in their cafe-au-lait khaki, fine, tall, lean chaps, with that curious tautness of the trousers
