A DEAR LITTLE GIRL'S THANKSGIVING HOLIDAYS
The "Dear Little Girl" Series
A Dear Little Girl
A Dear Little Girl at School
A Dear Little Girl's Summer Holidays
A Dear Little Girl's Thanksgiving Holidays
A DEAR LITTLE GIRL'S
THANKSGIVING HOLIDAYS
_Amy E. Blanchard_
[Illustration]
WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.
Racine, Wisconsin
Copyright 1912 by George W. Jacobs & Co.
Printed in 1924 by
Western Printing & Lithographing Co.
Racine, Wis.
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE INVITATION 9
II RELIANCE 30
III WHERE'S THE KEY? 50
IV A HEARTY DINNER 71
V THE RED BOOK 93
VI THE OLD HOUSE 113
VII THE MILL STREAM 134
VIII JETTY'S PARTY 154
IX THE ELDERFLOWERS 174
X WHAT BEN DID 196
XI FAREWELLS 215
XII HOW ARE YOU? 234
A DEAR LITTLE GIRL'S THANKSGIVING HOLIDAYS
CHAPTER I
THE INVITATION
"Any news, mother?" asked Edna one Friday afternoon when she came home
from school.
"There's a letter from grandma," replied Mrs. Conway after kissing the
lips held up to hers. "There isn't any real news in it, but there is an
invitation."
"What kind of an invitation?"
"A Thanksgiving kind."
"Oh, mother, what do you mean?"
"I mean that grandma wants us all to spend an old-fashioned Thanksgiving
with her; the kind she used to have when she was young. She says she
and grandpa are both getting old and they may not be able to have the
whole family there together again."
"And are we going?"
"Yes, I think so."
"The whole family?"
"I think perhaps you and I will go on a day or two ahead and let the
others follow. Celia and the boys can come with your father, who
probably could not get off till Wednesday afternoon. Grandma asks that I
bring my baby with me."
"And that means me," returned Edna, hugging herself. "How long shall we
stay, mother?"
"That depends upon several things which will have to be learned later,
so I can't tell just yet."
Edna danced off to hunt up her brothers that she might tell them the
news. She found them in their little workshop over the stable. Charlie
was making a new box to put in his pigeon house and Frank was watching
him. They had not seen their little sister since Monday for she and her
sister Celia went to school in the city, remaining until the Friday
afternoon of each week.
"Hello!" cried Charlie, looking up. "When did you come?"
"Oh, we've just come, only a few minutes ago, and what do you think is
the news?"
"The Dutch have taken Holland," returned Charlie, hammering away at his
box. "Just hand me that box of nails, Frank, won't you?"
"That's a silly answer," said Edna with contempt.
"Well, if it's news, how did you expect me to know it?"
"I didn't expect you to know it, only to guess."
"Well, I guessed," replied Charlie teasingly. "I suppose it's a foolish
sort of thing; Uncle Justus has grown another hair in his eyebrows or
your friend Dorothy has a new hat."
"It's nothing so unimportant," Edna continued; "for it concerns you
boys, too, but if you don't want to know I'll go up to Dorothy's; she'll
be interested even if she isn't going."
"Going? Where?" cried both boys.
"That's for me to know and for you to find out," retorted Edna,
beginning to scramble down the ladder. Both boys darted after; Charlie
swung himself down ahead of her to the floor below and was ready to grab
her before she reached the last rung. Then there was much laughing,
scrambling, tickling and protesting till at last Edna was compelled to
give up her secret, ending triumphantly with: "And I'm going first with
mother."
"Who said so?" questioned Charlie.
"Mother did. We are to go two or three days ahead of anyone else."
"Oh, well, I don't care," returned Charlie. "There wouldn't be any boys
for me to play with anyhow."
"How many are coming for Thanksgiving?" asked Frank.
"I don't know exactly," Edna answered, "but I suppose all the aunts and
cousins and uncles that can get there. Aunt Lucia and Uncle Bert and of
course Aunt Alice and her boys, Ben and his brother. Ben will have to
go, and I'm awfully glad; he's my favoritest cousin."
"How about Louis?"
"He is not any relation to grandma and grandpa Willis, is he?"
"I don't know; I never could get relations straight. I hope he isn't any
kin to them and I am sorry he is to us, for he is a pill. You know he
is, no matter what you say. Just look how he acted last summer. You
needn't try to excuse him, for Dorothy told me all about it."
Edna could not deny facts, for it was quite true that her cousin Louis
was not above blame in sundry instances, so she changed the subject by
saying, "I think I'll go over to Dorothy's anyhow."
The boys did not try to detain her and she ran out along the road and up
to the old-fashioned house where her friend Dorothy Evans lived. Dorothy
was playing with her kitten out on the side porch. She had dressed the
little creature in long clothes and was walking up and down singing to
it as it lay contentedly in her arms, it's two gray paws sticking out
from the sleeves of a little red sacque belonging to one of Dorothy's
dolls.
"Doesn't Tiddlywinks look funny?" said Dorothy by way of greeting. "And
isn't he good? I believe he likes to be dressed up, for he lies as
still as anything. Of course, if he fussed and meowed, I would take off
the things and let him go."
Edna touched the soft silvery paws gently. "I believe he does like it,"
she returned. "See, he shuts his eyes exactly as if he felt nice and
cozy. Oh, Dorothy, guess what! We are all going to grandpa Willis's next
week. We are all going for Thanksgiving, only mother and I are going
first. Isn't that lovely?"
"Lovely for you, I suppose," replied Dorothy dejectedly, "but I shall
miss you dreadfully."
"Oh, no, you won't, when you have Margaret and Nettie so near. Besides I
shall not be gone long, not more than a week."
"Are there any girls there?" asked Dorothy, a little jealously.
"Not like us. There is a little girl, mother says, that grandma has
taken in to help her and Amanda; Amanda is the woman who lives there
and cooks and churns and does all sorts of things."
"Is it in the real country?"
"It is real country and yet it isn't, for it is a village. Grandpa has a
farm, but just across the street is a store and the church is only a few
steps away, and there are lots of neighbors; some have big places and
some have little ones. Grandpa's isn't as big as the biggest nor as
little as the littlest."
"Does he keep horses and cows and chickens and things?"
"Oh, my, yes, and ducks and turkeys and sheep."
"I should think it would be a pretty nice sort of place."
"It is lovely and I am always crazy about going there."
"But please don't stay too long this time," urged Dorothy.
"I'll have to stay till mother brings me back," returned Edna
cheerfully. "I wish there were another kitten, Dorothy, so I could have
a live doll, too."
"You might take the mother cat," Dorothy suggested; "she is very gentle
and nice."
They went in search of Tiddlywinks' mother, but Madam Pittypat objected
to being made a baby of, for, though she was gentle enough, she squirmed
and twisted herself out of every garment they tried upon her, and, at
the first opportunity, walked off in a most dignified manner, as though
she would say: "Such a way to treat the mother of a family!"
So the two little girls concluded that they would free Tiddlywinks and
turn him again into a kitten. They left him stretching himself and
yawning lazily, as they trudged off to see their friend, Margaret
McDonald, that they might tell her Edna's news.
The days sped by quickly until Tuesday came, when Edna and her mother
were to start on their journey. Edna at first decided to take her doll
Ada "because she is more used to traveling," she said, but at the last
moment she changed her mind saying that Ada had been on so many journeys
that she thought someone else should have a chance and, therefore, it
was her new doll, Virginia, who was dressed for the trip. The previous
year Edna had spent Thanksgiving Day with her Uncle Justus; this year it
would be quite a different thing to sit at table with a whole company of
cousins instead of dining alone with Uncle Justus.
It was a journey of three hours before the station of Mayville was
reached, then a drive of four miles to Overlea lay before them. But
there was grandpa himself waiting to help them off the train, to see
that their trunks were safely stowed into the big farm wagon, and at
last to tuck them snugly into the carriage which was to bear them to the
white house set in behind a stately row of maples. These had lost their
leaves, but a crimson oak still showed its red against the sky, and the
vines clambering up the porch waved out scarlet banners to welcome the
guests.
Grandma Willis was standing on the porch to greet them as they drew up
before the door. Behind her stood Amanda and behind Amanda a little girl
about twelve or thirteen. Behind the little girl trailed a cat and three
kittens. At the sight of these Edna gave a squeal of delight. "New
kittens, grandma? How lovely! I'm so glad," she cried.
Grandma smiled. "Well, give me a good hug and kiss first and then
Reliance can let you take one of the kittens to hug."
"Who is Reliance? Is that what you call the mother-cat?"
"No, her name is Tippy. Reliance is the little girl who, we hope, is
going to carry out the promise of her name."
Edna did not understand this latter speech but she smiled encouragingly
at Reliance who smiled back at her. Then after the huggings and kissings
were given to Mrs. Willis, Reliance picked up one of the kittens and
held it out to Edna who cuddled it up to her and followed the others
into the house.
It was a big old-fashioned place where the Willis family had lived for
many generations. In the large living-room was a huge fireplace in which
now a roaring fire crackled and leaped high. There was a small seat
close to it and on this Edna settled herself.
"Here, here, aren't you going to stay a while?" cried grandpa who had
given over the carriage into the hands of Ira, the hired man, and who
had just come in.
"Why, of course we are going to stay," replied Edna.
"Then why don't you take off your things? Mother, isn't there any place
they can lay their bonnets and coats? It seems to me there should be a
bed or cupboard somewhere."
"Now, father," protested Mrs. Willis, "you know this house is big enough
to hold the hats and coats of the entire family."
"Didn't know but you were house-cleaning and had every place turned
upside down."
"Now, father," Mrs. Willis continued, "you know we've been days getting
the house cleaned and that everything is in apple-pie order for
Thanksgiving."
Grandpa gave Mrs. Conway a sly wink. "You'd think it ought to be in
apple-pie order," he said, "by the way they have been tearing up the
place. Couldn't find my papers, my sticks, my umbrella or anything when
I wanted them. I am glad you all have come so you can help me hunt for
them."
"Why, father, how you do go on," Mrs. Willis interposed. The old
gentleman laughed. He was a great tease, as Edna well knew.
"Where shall we go to lay off our things, mother?" asked Mrs. Conway.
"Up to your own old room over the dining-room. Here, Reliance, take the
kitten and you, Edna, can come along with your mother."
"There's no need for you to go up, mother," said Mrs. Conway. "I have
been there before, you know, and I think I can find the way." Then the
two smiled wisely at one another.
But grandma would go and presently Edna found herself in a large room
which looked out upon the west. Mrs. Conway stood still and gazed
around her. "How natural it all seems," she said, "even to the pictures
upon the walls. I went from this room a bride, Edna, and when I come
back to it I feel not a day older. This is the same furniture, but this
is a new carpet, mother, and new curtains, and the little cot you have
put in for Edna, I suppose."
"Yes, there are some things that will not last a lifetime," answered
Mrs. Willis, "and we must furbish up once in a while. I thought you
would rather have Edna here with you than elsewhere, and at such a
crowded time we have to stow away as we can. I have put another cot in
my room for one of the other children and Celia is to go in with Becky."
While they were talking Ira brought up the trunks and Mrs. Conway
commenced the task of unpacking, so very soon they were settled and
ready for dinner, which was served in the big dining-room where was
another open fireplace not quite so large as the first, but ample
enough. Reliance waited upon the table and helped to clear away the
dishes afterward.
"When you are through with your tasks, Reliance, you can take Edna out
and show her the chickens and pigs and things," said grandma.
"Reliance is quite a recent addition to the family, isn't she?" said
Mrs. Conway when the little maid went out.
"Yes," Mrs. Willis replied. "Amanda isn't as young as she was and we
thought it would be a good thing to have someone here who could save her
steps and who could be trained to take her place after a while. I think
Reliance promises to be very capable in time."
While her mother talked to the grandparents, Edna walked softly around
the room looking at the different things, the pictures, books and
ornaments. There was a high mantel upon which stood a pair of Dresden
vases and two quaint little figures. In the middle was a china house
with a red door and vines over the windows. Edna had always admired it
and was glad to see it still there. She stood looking at it for a long
time. She liked to have her grandmother tell her its history. "That was
brought to me by my grandfather when he returned from England," Mrs.
Willis always said. "I was a little girl about six years old. Later he
brought me those two China figures. He was a naval officer and that is
his portrait you see hanging on the wall."
"I love the little house," remarked Edna, knowing that the next word
would be: "You may play with it if you are very careful. It is one of my
oldest treasures and I should be very grieved if it were broken."
The little house was then handed down and Edna examined it carefully.
"It is so very pretty," she said, "that I should like to live in it. I
would like to live in a house with a bright red door."
"I used to think that same thing when I was a little girl," her
grandmother told her.
"I think maybe you'd better put it back so I won't break it," said Edna,
carefully handing the treasure to her grandmother, "and then will you
please tell me about the pictures?"
"The one over the mantel is called 'The Signing of the Declaration of
Independence,' and that small framed affair by the chimney is a key to
it, for it tells the names of the different men who figure in the
picture."
"I will look at it some day and see if I can find out which is which,"
said Edna. "That is Napoleon Bonaparte over there; I know him."
"Yes; and that other is General Washington, whom, of course, you know."
"Oh, yes, of course; and I know that little girl, the black head over
there; it is my great-great-grandmother."
"The silhouette, you mean? Yes, that is she, and she is the same one who
did that sampler you see hanging between the windows. She was not so old
as you when she did it."
Edna crossed the room and knelt on a chair in front of the sampler. It
was dim with age, but she could discern a border of pink flowers with
green leaves and letters worked in blue silk. She followed the letters
with the tip of her finger, tracing them on the glass and at last
spelling out the name of "Annabel Lisle, wrought in her seventh year."
"Poor little Annabel, how hard she must have worked," sighed Edna. "I
am glad I don't have to do samplers."
"You might be worse employed," said her grandmother, smiling.
"Did you ever do a sampler?" asked Edna.
"Not a sampler like this one, but I learned to work in cross stitch. Do
you remember the little stool in the living-room by the fireplace?"
"The one with roses on it that I was sitting on?"
"Yes; that I did when I was about your age, and the sofa pillow with the
two doves on it I did when I was about Celia's age. I was very proud of
it, I remember."
"May I go look at them?"
"Assuredly."
So Edna went into the next room and carefully examined the two pieces of
work which now had a new importance in her eyes. A little girl about
her age had done them long ago. She discovered, too, a queer-looking
picture behind the door. It was of a lady leaning against an urn, a
weeping-willow tree near by. The lady held a handkerchief in her hand
and looked very sorrowful. Edna wondered why she seemed so sad. There
were some words written below but they were too faint for her to
decipher, and she determined to ask her grandmother about this picture
which she had never noticed before. While she was still looking at it,
Reliance came to the door to say, "I can go now; I've finished what I
had to do." Edna turned with alacrity and the two went out together.