“Kill the dishonest mammal!” all gollup with thankless expression.
“Why you should want I kill dog for stealing turkey you do not require?” I ask with Teddy Roosevelt voice. “He should be gave medal of Pilgrim 4 Fathers for eating a bird you would not dare to bite.”
“Then you mean we shall have no turkey?” snagger all.
“You shall be spared that calamity,” I say off.
“How lonesome Thanksgive dinner seem without him!” mone Uncle Seth.
“How can we fill his vacant platter?” sobb Hon. Mrs. “I should be thankful for Hon. Turkey, however tough!”
Just while she say this—crashy!! Loud sound of approaching dog heard from kitchen window, and Hon. Fido with waggish tail trott into dining-room, carrying that enormalous bird in his careful teeth. He lay that absent fowel reverently a.m. feets.
“Hon. Fido do not care for this enlarged chicken, so he bring him back,” I report.
“Dinner are now spoilt!” decry Hon. Mrs.
“How could you speak it?” I research. “When turkey go, you say, ‘Dinner ruined!’ ‘When he come back, you say, ‘Dinner spoilt!’ I am impossible to understand about American customs.