On a hot afternoon, he had ordered soup.  He sensed it had to do with the heft and roundness and, especially, the deep cavity of the soup spoon lain in front of him.  He could well imagine the spoon emptying not just sips of brothy vegetables, but mouthfuls of them, filling his mouth with a completeness of salty taste.  But, the very first spoonful revealed his miscalculation.  He couldn’t open his mouth wide enough to take in the deep cavity of the spoon; half the soup in it dribbled down his chin.  He tried coming at the spoon from above, the front, and even had the spoon drop soup into his mouth from on high, but it wasn’t till he stopped filling the spoon to its brim that the dribbling dwindled. Half a spoonful of soup proved to completely stop the spills.  In this way, he tasted and savored every drop, and thought it a spontaneous demonstration of “less is more” when it had the actual meaning of less giving you more.