“What kind of chops are they?”
“I—I think they’re veal. Anyhow, there isn’t much taste to them.”
“Then of course they’re veal,” laughed Malcolm. “Evan, I’ll bet you didn’t get all the potatoes out; we’re shy four or five.”
“Here’s one if you want it. I got all I could find. How’s the coffee holding out, Rob?”
Rob seized the pot and shook it.
“Plenty here, I guess. Pass your cup.”
“It’s always well to shake it about a bit,” said Malcolm dryly. “It makes it so nice and clear.”
“Oh, don’t be so fussy. Any one seen the canned cow? And the sugar? Thanks. Jelly, you got my spoon?”
“Yes, I’m eating egg with it. Want it?”
“Well, scarcely,” replied Evan. “Let me take yours, Rob. These are dandy doughnuts, fellows.”