A moment later each guest was gazing in wonder, first at a large portion of caviar ingeniously reposing among clusters of chopped onions, eggs, and lemons, and, second, at the following menu:
FIRST ANNUAL DINNER
MENU
| Caviar | Celery | Olives | Salted Almonds |
| Turtle Soup | |||
| Oysters on the Half-Shell | |||
| Vermont Turkey with Cranberry Sauce | |||
| Roast Pig with Fried Apples | |||
| Baked Sweet Potatoes | Mashed Potatoes | Succotash | |
| Lobster Salad | |||
| Plum Pudding | Pistache Ice-cream | Angel Cake | |
| Demi-tasse | |||
Schneibel and Millie were visibly alarmed at the spectacle of the caviar, while the rest of the party, before the magnitude of the task before them, seemed struck dumb, perceiving which, King O’Leary rose and spoke as follows:
“Friends: You have noticed, I suppose, at the head of the menu, that this is the first annual feed. Now, I’m not much on a speech, and this ain’t a speech. We’re here to get together. That’s my motto: If you’ve got a gold mine or a tooth-ache—get together! Let some one else share it. Sort of struck me that we had as much right to a Christmas of our own as some one else—this is the answer. If any one doesn’t like anything here, or anything goes wrong—blame me. As for me, I hope you’ll like me, as I have made up my mind to like you. And after seeing a lot of this old world, I reckon one of us is just as good as another, and if I brought you together, why—”
Here he stopped suddenly, fidgeted, and sat down, amid immense applause.
In ten minutes the party was off at top speed, every one laughing and rattling on in a high voice, utterly regardless of whether any one was listening or not, as though each had been released from solitary confinement and had to talk for the month of repression endured. The first shyness wore off. They gazed gratefully at King O’Leary and then at each other, wondering why they had kept apart so long, so utterly happy that, at times, they stopped and caught their breaths. To attempt to give an adequate idea of this mixed conflict is impossible. The room rang with such remarks as these:
“I’m going to eat that lobster salad if I die for it.”
“Tootles, where did you find him—he’s wonderful!”
“Waiter—hist, waiter—a little more of that there pig, and a bit of the bark!”