had run this delicatessen store for a long time. All summer, every fine day, he was busy slicing sandwiches and making up bags of lunch for people who were going on picnics. On Saturdays and Sundays he must have cut hundreds of sandwiches. But he never had a chance to go on a holiday himself. Indeed he hardly knew just what a picnic was. He thought about this a great deal, until he got quite savage. If you think of a thing for a long time and do nothing about it you get yourself in a rather queer state. So it was with Mr. Liverwurst.
One fine day Donny came in grinning cheerfully and saying as usual, "What a grand day for a picnic." He began giving his regular order for liverwurst sandwiches and all the rest of it. Mr. Liverwurst flushed red and began playing with his long sharp knife. Donny did not notice, he was busy looking in the glass case to decide what kind of cheese to take. He always found it a bit difficult to talk while ordering the lunch, because the sight of all the meats filled his mouth with wetness. But he swallowed several times, and then said firmly, "And please don't put any mustard on the sandwiches."
This was more than Mr. Liverwurst could
