After dinner Grandma told us about her little ones. We all wanted to know where they were now. Grandma laughed, and pointed to Uncle George, Papa, and Aunt Lucy. We could hardly believe they were ever little things like us. Then Grandpa told us how he killed a great bear near the old house ever so many years before.
Uncle George showed us how to play "London Bridge." Some of us were parts of the bridge, and some of us went under it. After that we played "snap-apple." Aunt Lucy tied an apple by a string to the ceiling, and we bit at it Every time we bit, the apple flew away from us. It was great fun.
After supper the "day was over" with the little ones. We could not keep our eyes open, and some of us slept all the way home in that double sleigh. I know I dreamed about that long table at dinner, and thought we were playing "snap-apple" with the big roast turkey.
That Thanksgiving was many, many years ago, and some of those mites of little ones that played "London Bridge" are grandpas and grandmas now.
—UNCLE FRED.
A QUEER PLACE FOR A BIRD'S HOME.
One evening last summer a tramp, who had travelled many miles, lay down on the leaves in a pleasant wood. Before he went to sleep he pulled off one shoe, for it had chafed his foot till it was very sore.