Weiners for all, or One for all weiners.
Up behind our place in the Samish Valley was an old (abandoned) railroad grade. Ties and tracks were gone
but it was a nice level place to enjoy (get-togethers). there was a rope swing attached to a nearby tall fir tree and was one of our amusements to swing way out over everyone even the fire if we had one. Mainly just "hanging out" and being together was what we enjoyed most. Some nights we would have bon-fire parties.
On one particular night our group decided to have a "Weiner Roast".The evening progressed with  everyone having a good time,but after an hour or so most of us were ready to eat.There was always an abundance of sharpened sticks to use to roast the hot dogs (weiners), and each one was their own cook. The fire had burned down to perfect hot coals. Jack, my oldest brother went to to the place beneath a nearby log to "fetch" the big package of weiners. He let out a yell as he held up an empty wrapper and was scolding Thunder "our dog" who was waddling away and burping on the path back to the house.