“Humph!” exclaimed Johnny, as he looked out of the window, “you can’t send it away if you wanted to—not now.”
“Why not?” asked the woman.
The Trippertrots Carrying the Thanksgiving Dinner
“Because the grocery horse has run away again,” answered Johnny. “I guess he knew what he was doing when he left the dinner here, and now he’s gone back home. So you can’t send the dinner away. You’ve got to keep it.”
“Oh, bless your dear hearts, we will,” said the woman, and, oh! how happy those children were—the poor ones I mean. But, of course, the Trippertrots were happy, too, because they had done a kindness.
Then the poor woman began to cook the Thanksgiving dinner, and she put the turkey in the oven to roast nice and brown, and the Trippertrots were helping her when, all of a sudden, there came a loud knock on the door of the house where the poor family lived.
“Ha! I wonder who that can be?” asked the poor woman.
“I guess it’s our papa come for us,” said Johnny.
“Who are you, and where do you live?” asked the poor woman.