"I'm not afraid," cried Abraham, "but I don't see you drinking."
"Nonsense, man! I'm waiting for you!"
"Go ahead, then."
"Go ahead."
Here there was a long pause, and we watched each other with great attention. At last, entirely out of patience, I lowered my bowl and said,
"Abraham, do you want me to poison myself?"
"No, I don't," said Abraham; "I'd be very sorry for it."
"Then why did you propose that we should drink this poison together? for I verily believe it must be poison, or it wouldn't look so tempting."
"Because you wanted me to drink it first."
"Did I? Give me your hand, Abraham; I forgot that." Whereupon we shook hands, and agreed to consider it not whisky punch, but poison, and drink none at all.