"Well, that would be worser, wouldn't it? I s'pose we ought to be glad for even that."
"Yes, dear; there is always something to give thanks for. Suppose you take a piece of paper and write out all the things you have to be thankful for this year."
The idea was a novel one to Peace, and after a moment of debate, she searched out pencil and tablet, drew up an old hassock beside a chair, which she used as her table, and laboriously began to compile her list of thankfuls. She finished her task just as Gail announced the supper hour, and dropped the sheet, scribbled full of crooked letters, into the mending basket, where Gail found it that evening when the three little sisters were fast asleep in their beds. Hope was busy with her lessons and Faith sat listlessly in front of the wheezy organ, idly playing snatches of melody. So Gail spread the paper out on the table and read with reverent eyes what Peace had written from the depths of her heart:
"I am thankful cause my tramp didn't burn us up with his matches.
"Dito (dito means I am thankful and its lots shorter to rite) cause of the muny pined to the gatepost and granesaks in the barn, but I'd be more thankful if Gale would spend it.
"I am thankful cause Mr. Strong says our 2 angels got inside the gates all right.
"Dito cause there ain't any more of us angels.
"Dito cause Hector Abbott got licked for teezing lame Jenny Munn—his name just fits him.
"Dito cause Mr. Strong is our preecher—he's got some sense.
"Dito for his wife.