“Not keep Thanksgiving!” said Jasper, standing quite still; “never had a Thanksgiving! well, I declare,” and then he stopped again.
“Yes,” answered Ben; “we had one once; 'twas last year—but that wasn't much.”
“Well then,” said Jasper, leaning over the table, “I'll tell you what I should think you'd do—try Christmas.”
“Oh, that's always worse,” said Polly, setting down her rolling-pin to think—which immediately rolled away by itself off from the table.
“We never had a Christmas,” said little Davie reflectively; “what are they like, Jasper?”
Jasper sat quite still, and didn't reply to this question for a moment or two.
To be among children who didn't like Thanksgiving, and who “never had seen a Christmas,” and “didn't know what it was like,” was a new revelation to him.
“They hang up stockings,” said Polly softly.
How many, many times she had begged her mother to try it for the younger ones; but there was never anything to put in them, and the winters were cold and hard, and the strictest economy only carried them through.
“Oh!” said little Phronsie in horror, “are their feet in 'em, Polly?”