"What on earth have you made it of.

Eric ?" "Well, I put in some pork and the tinned oysters--" "That mixture would be almost enough to settle one!" said Fritz, interrupting him.

"Anything else ?" "Oh, yes.

As there were only a few potatoes left from those we used for planting in the garden I put them in; and, as I had no other vegetables, I also shook in some preserved peaches, and--" "There, that will do," shouted Fritz, quite put out at having his expected dinner treat spoilt in such a fashion,--"salt pork, pickled oysters, and preserved peaches,--good heavens! The stew only wanted some cheese to be added to make it perfect." "I did put some in," said Eric innocently.
This naive acknowledgment quite restored Fritz's good humour, and he burst out laughing; his anger and disgust dispelled at once by the comical confession.
"If ever I let you cook for me again," he observed presently when he was able to speak again, "I'll--yes, I will eat a stewed penguin, there!" Eric laughed, too, at this; although he remarked, wisely enough, "Perhaps you might have to eat worse than that, old fellow!" "I don't know what could be," said Fritz.
"Nothing!" curtly replied Eric, the truism silencing his brother for the moment and setting him thinking; but he presently spoke again to the point at issue.
"Is there nothing left for us to eat ?" he asked.

"I'm famishing." "There's the cheese and some raw ham if you can manage with those," said Eric sadly, quite disheartened at the failure of all his grand preparations for giving his brother a treat.
"Capitally," replied Fritz, "fetch them out, and let us make a good square meal.