"Then what did you say you would for?"
"Mary was just imagining, dear," put in Mrs. McGregor, coming to the rescue.
"She is always imagining," glowered Tim. "Only the other day she was trying to make me imagine my salt fish was chicken."
"I'll bet she didn't succeed," taunted Carl.
"Not on your life she didn't!" was the instant answer. "I know salt fish when I see it."
"No matter, dear," soothed Mrs. McGregor, affectionately touching her daughter's arm. "If her imagining Mary can convert salt fish into chicken it is an asset that will stand her in good stead all through life. And if you, Tim, prefer to keep your salt fish just salt fish, why you have a perfect right to do so. I will say, however, that the person who has the power to make believe has an invaluable gift. Many's the time I've made believe and it has helped me over more than one hard spot. We all have to masquerade to a greater or less degree. It is simply meeting life with imagination and seeing in the humdrum something that associates it with finer and more beautiful things." For a moment she was silent; then she added in her quick, businesslike accents, "And now to this dinner! There must be a basket to hold it, of course."
"A big market basket, Mother, lined with red paper. Do line it with red," pleaded Mary.
"It shall be lined with red, little lady! And trimmed with holly, too!" replied Uncle Frederick. "I will undertake to furnish both decorations along with the turkey."
"Why not put in Santa Claus napkins? I saw some paper ones the other day and they were tremendously festive," suggested Mrs. McGregor.
"I think the best plan is for us all to go together and buy the dinner," the Captain suddenly announced.