by. The boy became restless. He
began to toy with his ray gun, half interested in seeing if there were
any sparks left in it. "Why can't there be something besides so many
bands in a parade? I wanna see another float."

The father tried to interest the boy by pointing out all the famous
people who were also there: a variety of statesmen the world's leading
scientists and religious and cultural leaders, the president of the
United States.

* * * * *

The boy was interested but not in what his elder was saying to him. He
was looking downtown, his eyes squinting, trying to make out figures as
far away as Fifty-sixth Street. Then his mouth opened, not uttering a
sound yet, just waiting to burst with joy at what was coming toward
them.

His father looked up at him. "I wish you'd tell me what you are looking
at. I'm all the way down here on street level, remember?"

"Daddy, they look like ants!"

"What?"

"Ants, Daddy, ants! A whole army of them. Ain't it exciting?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"They're doing somersaults and back flips and everything! They're coming
right this way! Gee, there's hundreds of them. And they got a float
behind them, Daddy! A great big float with something burning on it."

The child sitting on his shoulders made mobility impossible for the
father. And he couldn't see around the spectators. He resigned himself
to stand and wait for this new spectacle to overtake them. The reaction
to this new sight had already begun to work its way uptown. In the
distance, but getting closer every second, he could hear unrestrained
laughter and rejoicing.

"Hey, take it easy!" The boy was beginning to ride the shoulders like a
bronco buster. "By the time they get here I won't have any shoulders
left. Where are they now?"

"They're almost here, Daddy! And they aren't ants at all. They're just a
bunch of clowns dressed up like it." He began to giggle hysterically.
"Golly, they're funny. Can you see them yet, Daddy?"

Before the father could produce an answer the ants were in view. They
were a sight that couldn't fail to stimulate the funny bone. By
comparison with real ants everything about them had been grossly
exaggerated to achieve the proper effect. They walked on their two back
legs but the four front apertures were far from idle. Some of them
turned somersaults, others did complicated flips consisting of two or
three spins in mid-air. Still others, do