A Dear Little Girl's Thanksgiving Holidays, Amy Ella Blanchard [top e book reader txt] 📗

the house and the place."

"Then don't stay away so long as to forget anything again," her grandmother charged her.

"I'm forgetting that this is the last chance I will have to help Reliance set the table," said Edna, jumping up.

She found Reliance had already begun this task and that Amanda was making some specially good tea-cakes in honor of this last evening. She was in a good humor and did not object, as she did sometimes, to Edna's being in the kitchen while supper was being prepared. "Just think," remarked Edna, as she leaned her elbows on the table to watch Amanda, "where I shall be to-morrow evening at this time."

"And are you sorry?" asked Amanda.

"No, not exactly. I am glad and sorry both. I should love to stay and yet I want to see them all at home."

"That's perfectly natural," Amanda returned, pricking the tea-cakes daintily.

"What do you have to do that for?" asked the little girl.

"To keep 'em from blistering," Amanda told her. "There, open the oven door, Reliance, and then bring me that bowl of cottage cheese from the pantry. I didn't know as it would be warm enough to allow of us having any more this week, but you see it was."

"I just love cottage cheese," Edna made the remark, as she watched Amanda pour in the yellow cream and stir it into the cheese. "I wish we kept a cow, so we could have all the milky things you have here."

"Ain't your place big enough for one?" inquired Amanda, in rather a surprised tone.

"No; it isn't just country, you know. Mrs. McDonald has a big place, and the Evanses have a nice garden and a grove of trees. We have some trees and some garden, and we have a stable, but we haven't any pasture for cows."

"You might pasture her out," Amanda suggested, scraping the contents of the bowl into a glass dish. "Here, Reliance, take that in and set it on the table, and then go after your milk and butter. The dark will catch you if you don't hurry."

"I'm going, too," announced Edna. "I can carry the butter, but I won't bring the key." The two little girls laughed, for this was a standing joke between them.

They started out through the rustling leaves to the spring-house; the leaves gave forth a queer, though pleasant odor, as they pushed their feet through them. A big star blazed out against the pale rose of an evening sky. Over in the cornfields, crows were calling, and a few crickets, not yet driven to cover by the frost, chirped in the grass. The cows were standing in the stable yard. They had been milked, and Ira had brought the pails to the spring-house before this. The little white kitten which Edna had made a great pet of, followed her down the walk, frisking away after a falling leaf, or dancing sideways in pretended fear of its own tail. Edna picked it up but it had no desire to stay when this, of all hours in the day, was the best to play in, so it scrambled down from her arms and was off like a flash, darting half way up a tree, with ears back and claws outspread.

"I do hate to leave the kitten," said Edna. "I hope it won't miss me too much. You will try to give it a little attention, even though you love the grey one best, won't you, Reliance?"

Reliance promised, and leaving the kitten to its own wild antics they went into the spring-house, issuing forth with the various things they had gone for. "Just think," sighed Reliance, "this is the very last time you will help me bring up the things. I shall miss you awfully, Edna. You have been so good to me."

"Why, no, I haven't," answered she; "you have been good to me. I'm coming back at Easter, Reliance, and it will be so nice, for I shall have so many questions to ask about the girls and the club and all that."

"Are you really coming at Easter? I didn't know that."

"Yes, mother just now promised grandma I should."

"Goody! Goody! I must tell the girls when I see them."

The girls, however, found out before Reliance saw them, for knowing that Edna was to leave in the morning, they gave her a surprise that very evening. Supper was hardly over before Reliance, trying very hard to smother laughter, had a whispered consultation with Mrs. Willis, who, after it was over, came back to her place by the fire. In a few minutes she said, "Edna, dear, I wish you would go up to my room and see if you can find my other pair of glasses. Look on the bureau and the table in my room, and, if you don't find them there, look in the other rooms."

Very obediently Edna trotted off upstairs, searched high and low, looked in this room and that, but no glasses were to be found. After much hunting, she came down without them. She stepped slowly down the stair, humming softly to herself. It was very quiet in the living-room, or did she hear whispers, and subdued titters? Was Reliance or maybe Ben going to play a trick on her? She heard a sudden "Hush! Hush!" as she reached the door of the living-room, but she made up her mind that she would appear perfectly unconcerned, and entered the room in a very don't-care sort of manner. "I couldn't find----" she began and then stopped short, for there, ranged around the room, were twelve little girls all smiling to see the look of surprise on her face. So that was what the trick was.

"We're a surprise party," spoke up Esther Ann.

"And we're a good-by party, too," added Reba.

"We've all brought you something," Alcinda spoke.

"We are going to stay an hour," Letty added.

Here Esther Ann darted forward with a bag of nuts which she plumped down in Edna's lap. "There," she said, "you must take those along with you."

Next, Reba presented a neat little book. It looked very religious, Edna thought, but the cover was pretty and there was an attractive picture in it.

Alcinda came next with a very ornate vase which Edna remembered seeing on the glass case in Mr. Hewlett's store.

Letty brought the figure of a cunning cat playing with a ball; this Edna liked very much. Some brought candy, some brought cakes, one brought a paper doll, another a little cup and saucer, but each one had something to contribute till Edna exclaimed: "Why, it is just like a birthday, and these are lovely presents."

"Oh, they're nothing but some little souvenirs," remarked Esther Ann loftily. "We wanted you to have them to remember us by."

"I shall never forget you, never," said Edna earnestly, "and I thank you ever and ever so much." She gathered up her booty and piled it on the table, then some one proposed a game, and they amused themselves till grandma sent out for nuts, cider, apples and cakes, which feast ended the entertainment, though it is safe to say it lasted more than an hour. At the last, the girls all crowded around Edna to kiss her good-night and to make their farewells, and then, like a flock of birds, they all took flight, scurrying home by the light of their lanterns, some across the street, some down, some up.

As the sound of the last merry voice died away, Edna threw herself into her grandmother's arms. "Oh, grandma," she cried, "wasn't it a lovely surprise? Did you know about it?"

"Not so very long before. Reliance came and told me what the girls wanted to do, and I promised to help in any way that I could."

"And was that why you sent me up for the glasses? I didn't tell you after all that I couldn't find them."

"I didn't expect you to," said her grandmother, laughing. "I only told you to go see if you could find them so as to get you out of the way and keep you occupied long enough to allow the girls to come in."

"I didn't hear the front door shut."

"No, for they came around by way of the side door, and tip-toed in by way of the dining-room."

"Well, it was lovely," sighed Edna in full content.

Although the real farewells had been said on that evening, that was not quite the last of it, for the girls were gathered in a body by the church the next morning when Edna drove by on her way to the train. She was squeezed in the back seat of the carriage between her mother and her Aunt Alice. Ben was on the front seat with his grandfather. Reliance at the gate was waving a tearful farewell, a white kitten under one arm and a grey one under the other. Grandma herself stood in the doorway. "Good-by! Good-by!" sounded fainter and fainter from Reliance, but the word was taken up by the girls who shouted a perfect chorus of good-bys as the black horses trotted nimbly along and bore Edna out of sight.


CHAPTER XII


HOW ARE YOU?

In what seemed an incredibly short time, Edna was getting out at the station nearest her own home. Ben and his mother had parted from them an hour before and were now on their way to their own home. Ben, however, would return on Monday to take up his college work again.

"There they are!" were the first words Edna heard as she and her mother descended from the train. And then the boys rushed forward to hug and kiss both herself and her mother and to make as much fuss over them as if they had been gone a year.

"Gee! but I'm glad to see you," cried Charlie. "It hasn't seemed like home at all without you, mother."

"Didn't you have a good time at Mrs. Porter's?" asked Edna.

"Had a high old time," responded Frank. "Here, let me take some of those things. You look like country travellers with all those bundles. What you got there?"

"Oh, things," returned Edna vaguely. "All sorts of things the girls gave me to bring home."

"You look like a regular old emigrant with so many boxes and bags."

"We couldn't get them all in the trunk," Edna explained, "and so we had to bring them this way. When did you get back, Frank?"

"Last night. We came home with father."

"Then you haven't had such a very long time in which to miss us," said Mrs. Conway, with a smile.

"Well, it seemed like a long time," returned Frank, "Nothing ever does go right when you're away, mother."

"What special thing has gone wrong this time?" asked his mother.

"Oh, I couldn't find anything I wanted this morning, and nobody knew where anything was, and Celia didn't know how to fix anything, and all that."

Mrs. Conway laughed. "That shows how I spoil you all. I am afraid I missed my boys, too, and am glad to get back to them."

"Where's Celia?" asked Edna.

"She's home. We all came up together last night. Lizzie had waffles for supper, and Frank ate ten pieces," spoke up Charlie.

"Well, that was all I could get," said Frank, in an injured way. "Lizzie said there were no more."

"Oh, Frank, Frank," laughed his mother. "Well, at any rate, I am