the dinner, or it will conquer us.

You know how it is, Jim, because that's the kind of dinner you had
to-day. It was an Athletic Feat--not the ordinary kind of city dinner
where you save up carefully during seven courses, and finish strong on
the water crackers and cheese, but a real Christmas gorge. Every time I
sit down to a Christmas dinner in Homeburg, I feel more strongly than
ever that each guest should have his capacity stenciled on him. They are
more careful of box cars in this country than they are of humans. You
never see a box car that doesn't have "Capacity, 100,000 lbs." stenciled
on its sides. And they don't overload that car. There have been times
when, if I could have had "Capacity, two turkey thighs, one wish-bone,
trimmings, and two pieces of pie" stenciled on me, I would have gotten
along better. I think they ought to try to make these Olympic games more
useful to our nation by instituting a Christmas dinner marathon. If we
have to eat for two hours and a quarter, top speed, once or twice a
year, we ought to train up to the task as a nation.

I always feel a little bit nervous about Christmas dinner before it
comes, but I never shirk. As a matter of fact, it isn't really
dangerous. As far as I know, no one has ever actually exploded in
Homeburg on Christmas Day, and we all seem to get away with the job in
pretty fair shape. But it spoils the day for anything else. The town is
full, in the afternoon, of partially paralyzed men lying around on sofas
in a comatose condition, like anacondas sleeping off their bi-monthly
lunch. Homeburg is absolutely dead for the rest of the day. If a fire
broke out on Christmas afternoon, I don't believe even Chief Dobbs would
have the energy to get up and put on his helmet. It's hard on the exiled
men who just run down for Christmas Day from the cities. They don't get
in on anything but the eating. Sam Frazier struck last year. Said he
wasn't going to pay ten dollars fare and incidentals any more, to come
down from Chicago on Christmas Day for an all-afternoon view of his
brother's feet as said brother lay piled up on the sofa. He was going to
come down after this on the Fourth of July.

It doesn't affect the women so badly because they don't eat so much.
They haven't time. It takes two women to steer one child safely through
a Christmas dinner, anyway, and about three to get the ruins cleared
away in time to get up a light lunch in the evening for the reviving
hosts