THE PICNIC                                          "Anthony, I have a surprise," cried Auntie. "It's a beautiful day and we're going on a picnic." "Oh, boy," danced the little ant. "I love picnics."     "All ants love picnics," cried Auntie. "Are you ready? We'll pick up your cousin, Tyrant, on the way."     Anthony stopped in his tracks. "but Auntie," he sighed. "Tyrant isn't nice. He picks on everyone. And besides, he complains all the time, too. He picks apart everything. Does he have to come along?" "Yes, of coures," smiled Auntie. "After all, he is your cousin. But don't worry, We'll have a wonderful time," Auntie promised. "Now, hurry! pick up your feet and come along ... let's march!"     So they picked up cousin Tyrant and joined a line of other ants. They marched a long way. Marching, marching, marching. And as usual,Tyrant picked on Anthony, the whole way. He stepped on his toes. He called him names, He tried to pick fights. And as usual, he complained, too. "Are we there yet?" he whined. "I'm tired. I'm hungry. And I have to go to the ... " Just then, the command ant picked up the scent of a picnic basket. The long line of ants picked up speed-marching, marching, marching.     Finally, they arrived at the picnic. "Well, it's about time," griped Tyrant. "Hmm, hmm," smiled Auntie. "Just look at all this food. Why there are sandwiches, potato chips, friedchicken, cakes, watermelon, pies and more!"          "Yahoo!" cheered Anthony. "Can we pick and choose whatever we like, Auntie?" "Yes, of course," Auntie smiled. "Just don't pick up anything from people's plates," she warned her nephoews. "People don't like sharing their lunches with ants-although I don't know why not. After all, we eat so little. Anyway," she continued, "run along and get your food. I'll pick out a spot to eat."     So the two cousins scurried off. Before long, Anthony found a delicious bit of cookie. But tyrant was picky. He wasn't satisfied with anything. He picked through some leftover chips. He found a chicken bone that had been picked clean. "Yuck! This food is crummy," he complained. "It's all been picked over. I don't want any of it." But just then, he saw sontthing he did want-a piece of cake with chocolate frosting. "Looks delicious," he said. "So what if it's on someone's plate. I'm getting a piece, anyway."         "But you mustn't," cried Anthony. "You heard what Auntie said."     "Oh,what does she know?" laughed Tyrant. And disobeying Auntie, he marched onto the paer plate where the cake was sitting. "Hmm, tasty," he grinned as he picked away at the chocolate icing.     Suddenly the plate shifted. It was being picked up. "Whaaoo," Tyrant held on. A plastic fork cut into the cake just above his head. A bite-sized piece of cake disappeared. "Help!" screamed the naughty little ant.     But it was too late. "Ooooh, ants!" a loud ovice sounded. And suddenly Tyrant was struck by the plastic frok. Bits of cake, pieces of icing and Tyrant tumbled to the ground. And Auntie and Anthony are still　picking up the pieces.