“I asked Mr. Ford to save us a good one, Blue Bonnet.”
“You think of everything! I suppose Uncle Cliff went in town?”
“Only for an hour or two, he said,” Mrs. Clyde answered.
Blue Bonnet thoroughly enjoyed that afternoon’s experience. Mr. Ford had saved them a fine turkey; but the turkey was not the only purchase to be made.
Blue Bonnet produced the list she had made out during algebra lesson. “I put down all the things I thought I should like if I were poor and someone were to send me a Thanksgiving dinner,” she said.
Mrs. Clyde smiled as she studied the list. “Suppose,” she said, “that in place of the fruit and candy, we substitute sugar and coffee—two articles always most welcome.”
There was a quick gleam of laughter in Blue Bonnet’s eyes. “But I thought they were mostly children,—and that you and Aunt Lucinda did not approve of coffee for—young people?” It was a point on which Blue Bonnet was still a little unreconciled; coffee—and very weak coffee at that at Sunday morning breakfast only, was the rule at the Clyde place, with reference to young folks. Blue Bonnet’s protests, that on the ranch she could have had it three times a day if she had wished, had not altered matters in the least.
Grandmother’s lips twitched ever so slightly at the corners now. “Still there are the father and mother, Blue Bonnet. This is to be an all-round basket, isn’t it?”
“But you’ll let the cranberries stand, Grandmother? It wouldn’t be at all a proper Thanksgiving dinner without them!”
“Certainly. And for that very reason—all the more need of the sugar.”