“’Twasn’t all stepped on,” said Johnny, “and I saved you a chunk. I’m awful glad you made it, ’cause nobody ’tended to Thanksgiving very much.”
“I’m glad I made it,” said Dolly, “for I should not have seen the fire in time if I had gone to bed earlier. I remember something foolish about its being my last night,” and Dolly smiled doubtfully at her mother, not feeling quite sure what she had said, and what she had only thought.
“It was not foolish at all, dear,” said her mother, kissing the scorched fingers. “Nothing better could be said of any life, than that it was a sacrifice for others.”
“Shet yer eyes, Dolly, and never mind about yer last days,” said Sarah, decidedly; “you won’t see ’em this fifty year, if things is managed anyway reasonable.”
NIB AND MEG.
BY ELLA FARMAN.