“‘Not what we give, but what we share,—
For the gift without the giver is bare.’”
Blue Bonnet looked into the fire with eyes half grave, half eager. “Grandmother,” she said at last, “will you show me—how?”
“To the best of my ability, dear.”
Blue Bonnet came down to breakfast the next morning full of the new idea.
“Grandmother knows of such a poor family,” she told her uncle; “I’m to send them their Thanksgiving turkey; we’re going together to buy it after school.”
Mr. Ashe glanced towards Miss Lucinda; he hoped that she properly appreciated what it was Blue Bonnet intended doing with her gold piece.
“I am afraid,” Mrs. Clyde remarked, “that Blue Bonnet, in her present enthusiasm, is somewhat inclined to look upon the troubles of the Patterson family in the light of a personal blessing.”
“You see,” Blue Bonnet was quite forgetting to eat her breakfast, “I’ve never known any really poor people—the kind one reads about. I think it must be sort of interesting—being poor.”