“That night, when SanJuanna had cleared the main course and brought dessert in, my mother called for quiet and said, "Boys, I have an announcement to make. Your sister made the apple pies tonight. I'm sure we will all enjoy them very much.""Can I learn how, ma'am?" said Jim Bowie."No, J.B. Boys don't bake pies," Mother said."Why not?" he said."They have wives who make pies for them.""But I don't have a wife.""Darling, I'm sure you will have a very nice one someday when you're older, and she'll make you many pies. Calpurnia, would you care to serve?"Was there any way I could have a wife, too? I wondered as I cut through the browned C and promptly shattered the entire crust.”