& a SR SRR WS ET SR A i ee RE x a cH ARE 0, It was a dilapidated hovel, situated on a rear street on the edge of a bare common, where unsightly heaps of rubbish were deposited. A little, low, tumbled-down affair, with mossy eaves, under which the swallows vuild their nests, and over the roof of which a tall spruce, with brown and dry branches, towered. The chill November wind whistled about it, sighing down the chimney, and ingress in many a crack around window and door. There dwelt Mrs. Grant and. her little granddaughter, Peggy. Mrs. G. was a little, with- ered old lady, with a placid face and kindly smile. She was very poor, partly supported by the town, and eking out her slender income by means of knitting, braiding mats, and sewing carpet rags, for the busy housewives of the village. Peggy was a bright, little girl of eight summers, much attached to her grandmother, and a favorite at the village school, notwithstanding her patched dress, dilapidated shoes and faded hood. Everyone had a kind word for her, and many a rosy- cheeked apple or crisp cookie was slipped into her basket, to eke out her dinner of cold johnny-cake, by her more favored companions. School was out, and a merry group were putting on their wraps in the ballway, and discussing the coming festival, so dear to every New Eng- land child. “I think Thanksgiving is just one of the best times of the year, don’t you, Peggy?” asked a little, roly-poly girl about her own age, as she tied her red hood about her rosy face. «1 don't know; we never had Thanksgiving at our house,” replied the little girl, who had been listen- ing with wide-open eyes to the tales of roast turkey, chicken pies and frosted cake. «Never had Thanksgiving, Peggy —why don’t you?’ “Granny's too poor, she can’t af- ford .it.” scholars promised to help the mat- ter along, and a sum of money was raised far exceeding Hattie's most sanguine expectations. This was judiciously expended at the village store by Mrs. Miller, who enlisted the sympathies of the mer- chant in the scheme, and materials for several serviceable garments were purchased, the garments cut out, and some young ladies offered to make them up. Poor Peggy looked sorrowful at the happy faces of her schoolmates during the week, thinking it was the anticipated enjoyment of the oming) them sO Thanksgiving that made became so silent when she ap- proached a group of tnem chatting away in the corner. Thanksgiving morning dawned clear and cold. Mrs. Grant and Peggy ate their frugal breakfast, and with a sigh the elder lady put away the remnants, thinking of the many happy circles that would assemble around festive boards, and she could not afford an extra article of food that day. When the church bell sounded she laid aside her knitting, donned her o1', rusty, bombazine dress and crape bonnet, that had served her many o& year, and taking Pezgy’s hand set out for church; first covering the fire to save the lit- tle fuel in the stove until their re- filled tlie board, and a pot of coffee gleeful, and she wondered why they: = tuinking they were playing her some trick, while Peggy cried: “Oh, granny, the fairy folks have been here!” The table was set for two. A roast turkey occupied the place of honor, flanked by a chicken pie and a dish of scalleped oysters, while vegetables, bread and butter, pies and cakes of various kinds, and dishes of fruit ‘nen the church bell sounded she laid aside her knitting.” bubbling on the stove sent forth a delicious odor. “Qh, granny, is it all a dream, and shall I wake. up soon?’ asked Peggy, her eyes swimming with tears. “Sure enough. 1 didn’t think about that,” and Hattie Miller turned homeward with a thoughtful face and preoccupied air. All the evening she seemed to be engaged in studying some problem, and said good-night very gravely. But the next morning she came bounding into the dining room with a radiant face. “Oh, mamma!’ she exclaimed, ‘‘do you know Peggy Grant says they never have Thanksgiving at her house, her grandma is so poor. Ismn’t it too bad?” «1 never thought of it before, dear. I’m sorry.” «put mamma, I've got a plan in my head.” “7'm afraid this curly pate cannot keep it long,” returned her mother, affectionately smoothing her hair. “Well, you see, we school children all love Peggy, and I'm going to ask them all to give their pocket money, and we'll bury her a new dress and shoes for a Thanksgiving present; then we can each spare a few of our toys, for I don’t s’pose she has any; and if you grown folks would only make a little feast for them, they TX turn. The air was keen, and pene- trated their thin garments, but the church would be warm—they could take seats near the stove— and as Parson Harvey's sermons Were lengthy, tuner would have two good hours of warmth. As the little black bonnet passed on its way, it was watched by a score of bright eyes; and as it disappeared through the church door, there was a general donning of hoods and cloaks, and 2 bevy of young girls came out of the different houses, bearing baskets, pails and bundles, and took their way to the dilapi- dated hovel. _.¢ never had Thanksgiving at our house.” can have a nice Thanksgiving.” Mrs. Miller smiled as she kissed the little, earnest face upturned to her. “I'l do my part, and thank my little girl for giving me a hint. 1 think if you get your schoolmates in- terested in your plan, their papas and mammas will be glad to help, and we will make Peggy and her grandmother happy for one day at least.” “Oh, thank you, mamma,” and Hattie sat down to her breakfast with a very happy face. She hastened early to school, call- {ng on the way upon several of her schoolmates, and enlisted them in her plan, She met with good Buc- cess in all her appeals, even the elder A load of wood, that had been waiting on the outskirts. of the vil- lage, was driven to the door and un- loaded, and half a dozen young men | with saws and axes began to demol- ish it, while a corps of little boys packed it neatly under a tumble- down shed in the rear. Meanwhile, within doors, the girls | Jere busy transforming the cheerless | apartment into one of comfort. The | pare floor was partly covered with some strips of half-worn carpet— two or three cheap prints in rustic frames, with some wreaths of ever- green, gave the dingy walls a home- like look. Opposite the door the door the word “Thanksgiving,” in evergreen, was placed. A bright fire was burning in the little stove, and the teakettle singing away as if it entered into the spirit of the occa- sion. The old table was drawn into the middle of the room, covered wiln a snowy cloth, and the widow's scanty array of crockery arranged to the best advantage upon it, while baskets, pails and bundles gave up their store of goodies to fill it. As the time for the close of serv- jce drew near, they finished their work and left for their respective homes; watching with dancing eyes, Mrs. Grant and Peggy as they trudged demurely homeward, Ag they reached thelr little domi- cile and opened the door of the kitch- en, both uttered an exclamation of astonishment, The old lady sank into a chair and rubbed her tyes, The Turkey's Revenge. : = TOMMY'S THANKSGIVING. I'm thankful for a lot of things: T'm thankful I'm alive, I'm thankful that I'm six years old Instead of only five. I’m thankful for my tops and toys And for my Kitty Gray; T'm thankful for the big outdoors Where I can run and play. I’m thankful for the things that grow, The apples, aren’t they. ood ? ; That corn where we playe hid and see, As in a little wood. I'm thankful for the pumpkins round, Just like a golden ball, And jack-o’-lanterns, big and queer, They don’t scare me at all. I'm thankful for Thanksgiving Day. - For pies all in a row; T’m thankful grandma made them sweet— She knows 1 like them so. I'm thankful for the turkey, too, How brown it is and nice! And I'd be very thankful, please, For only one more slice. __Elizabeth H. Thomas, in Youth's Com- panion. ——— A Turkey Anccdote. The famous French authority, Brillat Savarin, who visited this coun- try more than one hundred years ago, left an account of his experience in hunting wild turkeys. On his re- turn from this expedition some fam- ous man was telling him stories of Washington. The Frenchman's at- tention wandered, but he, by a marked effort, recovered himself and said: “I beg a thousand pardons, but T'was thinking how to dress my: wild: i Be, Se “I don’t know, dearie, what it all means; but here’s a note,” and taking a folded paper from the table, she read: “A Thanksgiving dinner for Mrs. Grant and Peggy, from their numer- our friends.” “Thank the Lord for such friends who remember the widow and or- phan,” said Mrs. Grant, wiping her eyes. “Oh, granny, see here!” shouted Peggy, pointing to the bureau, on which was arranged an asortment of toys and picture-books, a crimson merino dress, sack and hood, with a neat pair of gaiters. A card, with this inscription, lay by their side: “Peggy Grant, from her school- mates.” We must not dwell upon the pleas- ures of that day; it was the richest in Peggd’s experience, and in after years, when she moved in the best circles in society, she looked back with a warm feeling at her heart to that Thanksgiving Day.— New York Weekly. Cranberry Hints. In cooking cranberries avoid cook- ing them in tin, which gives them a purple hue. Use granite or porce- lain, and to each quart of cranberries measure out a pint of sugar and a cup and a half of water. Put the berries into a pan first, on the top of them the sugar, and over all the cold water. Cover closely and cook for ten minutes without stirring. Watch that they do not boil over, shaking and turning the pan from time to turkey.” Another story of Savarin was told by Talleyrand. Passing through Sens on the way to Lyons, he sent for the cook, according to his custom, and asked what he could have for dinner. The report was dis- couraging, for although four tur- keys were roasting in the kitchen, they wer all 1or one guest. “1 should like to meet the man who orders four turkeys for his own eat- ing,’ said Savarin, and he went to pay his respects to the stranger, who turned out to be his own son. “What, you rogue, four turkeys, all for yourself?” “Yes, sir; you Know whenever I dine witn you, you eat up the whole of les-sots-les-laissent;” the tidbit known as the oyster. “] was re- solved to enjoy myself for once in my life, and here I am, ready to begin, although I did not expect the honor of your company.’ aE RR, Secret of a Successful Dinner. A housekeeper should never get so thoroughly tired out beforehand that she will have to sit like a death’s head at the feast. There will be no pleasure in that for her or her family and guests. She should begin her preparations in time, counting the cost in money and strength, sO that neither balance will Le overdrawn. The secret of successfully serving a Thanksgiving dinner is to have the greater part of it in readiness before the day itself dawns. The turkey and vegetables need to be cooked on Thanksgiving Day, and the pumpkin pie should be baked fresh that morn- ing, but only the finishing touches need be given to the other dishes. Have the necessary sweeping and garnishing done earlier in the week -—the silver polished, and the old family china or precious bits of pew- ter tnat make their annual obeisance on this day released from their wrap- pings. en Selecting the Bird. In selecting turkey bear in mind that a fine, plump hen turkey is to be preferred to a male bird. Select one that is smooth and fair, with short, plump breast and a scarcity of pin feathers. Beware of long hairs or scaly legs, which betoken turkey senility. If only Hobson’s choice is left, and it is a veteran OT nothing; do not despair, as an hour’s prelim- inary steaming will plump him up and make him tender. ee es An Epicure at Wholesale. There is an old story of an epicure, who said: “We have just been din- ing on a superb turkey, tender and delicate; we left nothing but the bones.” Being asked how many were included in the “we,” ‘he re- plied. “Two; the turkey and my- self.” Es Millions of Turkeys. It is estimated that six million turkeys are required to furnish the Thanksgiving dinner tables each year. That means over fifty million pounds of meat, worth $7,500,000. Of this sum the smallest State, receives the largest Rhode Island, share. time. Then take off the lid, skim with a silver spoon, push back and let simmer a few moments longer,’ then turn into a dish to cool. The skins, cooked in this way, will be soft and tender, the berries nearly whole and the juice clear and almost a jelly. A Noble Bird Slighted. An Englishman in Paris asked Franklin why his countrymen se- lected a stupid, uneatable eagle. as thelr emblem, when they had sup- plied them with such a noble bird as the turkey. ? ads | ; TRANKSGIVING DINNER ate 3 Tomalro soup bs Boiled ¢od MP¥igq sauce India relish. | : Roast furkey 8% Cranberry jelly Qibler gravy. & Mashed potatoes: A Browned weer perafoey rring beans Ontong Oyster patties Pumpkin pie Bisque 1