"Prairie-dog—I was experimenting to see if they were edible."
"Leave me out in the air again!" Pinkey groaned as he swallowed a drink of water. "And I passed up a turkey dinner to come and eat with you!"
"Shan't I cook you some bacon?" asked Wallie, contritely.
"I doubt if I ever feel like eatin' agin, but if the cake's thawed out I'll try a chunk of it to take my mind off that stuffin'."
Wallie opened the can of pineapple he had been treasuring and Pinkey helped himself freely to the Christmas cake.
"They must be about four meals in one of them slices, the way it feels inside of me," the latter commented, nibbling delicately on a ring of pineapple he held in his fingers.
"It's fruit-cake, and rich; you're not supposed to eat so much of it," Wallie said, sharply.
Pinkey raised his eyebrows and regarded Wallie attentively as he continued to nibble.
"Looks like you're turrible touchy about her cookin', and swelled up over gittin' a Christmas present," he remarked, finally. "You needn't be, because she made eight other cement bricks jest like this one and sent 'em around to fellers she's sorry for."
"Oh, did she!" Wallie ejaculated, crestfallen.