I took out a cigar.
"This is the last," I said. "If, instead of wandering about and collecting invitations, you had only remembered—Shall we cut it up or smoke half each?"
"Call," said John, bringing out a penny. "Heads it is. You begin."
I struck a match and began.
. . . . .
Next day, after lunch, John brought out his little brown bag.
"It won't be very heavy," he said, "and we can carry it in turns. An hour each."
"I don't think that's quite fair," I said. "After all, it's YOUR bag. If you take it for an hour and a half, I don't mind taking the other half."
"Your shoes are heavier than mine, anyhow."
"My pyjamas weigh less. Such a light blue as they are."