There was nothing more except some butter that we hadn't the nerve to tackle single-handed, and some salt and a bottle of ketchup and the toothpicks.
We went at the toothpicks again; until Frosty got a splinter stuck between his teeth, and had a deuce of a time getting it out.
"I've heard," he sighed, when the splinter lay in his palm, "that some state dinners last three or four hours; blamed if I see how they work it.
I'm through.

I lay down my hand right here--unless you're willing to tackle the ketchup.

If you are, I stay with you, and I'll eat half." He sighed again when he promised.
For answer I pushed back my chair.

Frosty smiled and followed me out.

For the satisfaction of the righteous I will say that we both suffered from indigestion that night, which I suppose was just and right..