Dad grew up on a farm in Illinois during the 1920s and '30s and during the Fall months, neighbors would come together to help bring in the harvest on each others farms. On one such occasion, at one such farm, it was noticed that during the lunch break, one fellow in the group would head immediately to the outhouse, newspaper under his arm, and not emerge until the end of lunch. Needless to say, this wasn't well taken by the other workers. After a couple days, Dad, being a bit of a prankster, thought he needed to break up this guy's routine. So he got a stick of dynamite and a 30 minute fuse. The next day, as soon as the unwitting fellow was comfortably settled in, Dad sneaked behind the outhouse and lit the fuse. With all the other workers gathered round, at the 30 minute mark, the dynamite blew up and the outhouse fell apart - leaving one very startled fellow in a most embarassing state! I believe he wouldn't go near an outhouse the rest of the season. Dad's face always turned bright red with laughter as he recalled this story.