That's one of my peculiarities.

You know nothing ever hurts me.

Why, I've been thrown out of volcanoes--lemme see: well, dozens of times--and never been singed a bit.

'Most always, in real cold weather, I step over to Italy and roost around inside of Vesuvius; and then, maybe, there's an eruption, and I'm heaved out a couple of hundred miles or so, but always safe and sound.

What I don't know about volcanic eruptions, my child, isn't worth knowing.