Cheaper by the Dozen

interest.
    Dad was the one who decided what subjects were of general interest. Since he was convinced that everything he uttered was interesting, the rest of the family had trouble getting a word in edgewise.
    "Honestly, we have the stupidest boy in our history class," Anne would begin.
    "Is he cute?" Ernestine asked.
    "Not of general interest," Dad roared.
    "I'm interested," Mart said.
    "But I," Dad announced, "am bored stiff. Now if Anne had seen a two-headed boy in history class, that would have been of general interest."
    Usually at the start of a meal, while Mother served up the plates at one end of the table, Dad served up the day's topic of conversation at the other end.
    "I met an engineer today who had just returned from India," he said. "What do you think he told me? He believes India has fewer industries for its size than has any other country in the world."
    We knew, then, that for the duration of that particular meal even the dullest facts about India would be deemed of exceptional general interest; whereas neighboring Siam, Persia, China, and Mongolia would, for some reason, be considered of but slight general interest, and events which had transpired in Montclair, New Jersey, would be deemed of no interest whatsoever. Once India had been selected as the destination, Dad would head toward it as relentlessly as if Garcia were waiting there, and we had the message.
    Sometimes, the topic of conversation was a motion study project, such as clearing off the dishes from the table. Motion study was always of great general interest.
    "Is it better to stack the dishes on the table, so that yon can carry out a big pile?" Dad asked. "Or is it better to take a few of them at a time into the butler's pantry, where you can rinse them while you stack? After dinner we'll divide the table into two parts, and try one method on one part and the other method on the other. I'll time you."
    Also of exceptional general interest was a series of tricks whereby Dad could multiply large numbers in his head, without using pencil and paper. The explanation of how the tricks are worked is too complicated to explain in detail here, and two fairly elementary examples should suffice.
    1. To multiply forty-six times forty-six, you figure how much greater forty-six is than twenty-five. The answer is twenty-one. Then you figure how much less forty-six is than fifty. The answer is four. You can square the four and get sixteen. You put the twenty-one and the sixteen together, and the answer is twenty-one sixteen, or 2,116.
    2. To multiply forty-four times forty-four, you figure how much greater forty-four is than twenty-five. The answer is nineteen. Then you figure how much less forty-four is than fifty. The answer is six. You square the six and get thirty-six. You put the nineteen and the thirty-six together, and the answer is nineteen thirty-six, or 1,936.
    "I want to teach all of you how to multiply two-digit numbers in your head," Dad announced at dinner.
    "Not of general interest," said Anne.
    "Now if you had learned to multiply a two-digit number by a two-headed calf," Ern suggested.
    "Those who do not think it is of general interest may leave the table and go to their rooms," Dad said coldly, "and I understand there is apple pie for dessert."
    Nobody left.
    "Since everyone now appears to be interested," said Dad, "I will explain how it's done."
    It was a complicated thing for children to understand, and it involved memorizing the squares of all numbers up to twenty-five. But Dad took it slowly, and within a couple of months the older children had learned all the tricks involved.
    While Mother carved and served the plates—Dad sometimes carved wood for a hobby, but he never touched a carving knife at the table—Dad would shout out problems in mental arithmetic for us.
    "Nineteen times seventeen."
    'Three twenty-three."
    "Right. Good boy, Bill."
    "Fifty-two times fifty-two."
    "Twenty-seven zero four."
    "Right. Good girl, Martha."
    Dan was five when this was going on, and Jack was three. One night at supper, Dad was firing questions at Dan on the squares of numbers up to twenty-five. This involved straight memory, and no mental arithmetic.
    "Fifteen times fifteen," said Dad.
    "Two twenty-five," said Dan.
    "Sixteen times sixteen," said Dad.
    Jade, sitting in his high chair next to Mother, gave the answer. "Two fifty-six."
    At first Dad was irritated, because he thought one of the older children was butting in.
    "I'm asking Dan," he