"Did you think it was a buggler, when I opened the cellar-door last night, Norah?"
"No; I can't say as I did—not when I looked at you," replied
Norah, gravely.
"'Cause I'm going into the parlor to ask mother if she thought I was a buggler. I believe I won't help you any more now, Norah; p'rhaps I'll come out by and by."
So Dotty skipped away; but it never occurred to her that she had been troublesome. She merely thought it very strange Norah did not appreciate her services.
"I s'pose she knows mother'll help her if I don't," said she to herself.
Dotty's goodness ran on with a ceaseless flow till two o'clock, when that event took place which the children regarded as the most important one of the day—that is, dinner.
After the silent blessing, Mr. Parlin turned to his youngest daughter, and said,—
"Alice, do you know what Thanksgiving Day is for?"
"Yes, sir; for turkey."
"Is that all?"