A Dear Little Girl's Thanksgiving Holidays

Reliance gave an account of the rescue and received approving nods. "Smart girls, you two," he commented.

"Oh, I wasn't smart at all," piped up Edna. "It was all Reliance. I couldn't have done a thing without her."

"Well," said Mr. Millikin with a smile, "you did your part, and that's enough said. I was just going to unhitch, but there is my buggy all ready, and I guess the quickest way to get you back to the village is to take you there behind Dolly."

"Oh, but we can walk, thank you," protested Reliance.

"It's pretty much of a walk, and the sooner you get there the more pleased several people will be, I for one, because I don't want Bob Hewlett's little girl to mourn for her pet any longer than she need, and again, because I am in a way responsible for what has happened. I'll go get the buggy right off. You wait here; it won't take a minute." So presently they were driving along toward home, Reliance with a horse blanket around her which Mr. Millikin fished out from under the seat and insisted upon her putting around her shoulders.

To say that Alcinda was overjoyed at the sight of her little pet which she had given up for lost, would be speaking mildly. "I'll never forget you two girls, never," she cried. "I shall thank you forever and ever, and you, too, Mr. Millikin."

"Me? I'm partly to blame, for I ought to have discharged that good-for-nothing scoundrel long ago, but he was a good driver, and I was waiting to fill his place. Well, it's all come out right, after all. I hope your little dog will be none the worse for the experience. I'll pay his doctor's bills if he gets sick." After which speech, the miller drove off, and the rescuers darted across the street to their home, where the tardiness of their appearance was entirely forgiven after they had told their story.

CHAPTER VIII

JETTY'S PARTY

Grandma was so concerned lest Edna had taken fresh cold by reason of this latest adventure that she insisted upon putting the little girl through a course of treatment to prevent possible evil results. "After dabbling in that cold water and getting her feet wet it will be a wonder if she isn't laid up," said grandma, coming into the room just as Edna was going to bed. "She must have her feet in mustard water, and Amanda is making a hot lemonade for her."

So Edna's feet were thrust into the hot bath, and she was made to sip the hot drink, then was bundled into bed with charges not to allow her arms out from under the covers. It was rather a warm and unpleasant experience, and the worst of it was that grandma said the next morning that she mustn't think of going out-of-doors that day.

"Oh, dear," sighed the little girl, when she was alone with her mother, "don't you think grandma is very particular? Did she used to do so when you were a little girl?"

"She did indeed, and when she was a little girl it was even worse, for instead of lemonade to drink, she was made to take a very bitter dose of herb tea, or a dreadful mess called composition which had every sort of nauseous thing in it you can think of. Little folks nowadays get off very easily, it seems to me."

"I didn't mind the hot lemonade a bit, but I shall never forget the smell of that mustard water," said Edna after a pause.

Her mother laughed. "You must be thankful that it is no more than that."

"What am I going to do to-day?" inquired the little girl. "I was going to do ever so many nice things out-of-doors and now I can't."

"Then we must think up some nice things to do indoors."

"What kind of things?"

"I shall have to put on my thinking cap in order to find that out. Meanwhile, suppose you run down to grandma with this tumbler; it had your lemonade in it and should go down to be washed."

Edna ran off to her grandma, coming back presently with a much brighter countenance than she took away. "Grandma is going to let me help with the turtle cakes," she said eagerly. "That's a very nice thing, don't you think?"

"I think that is very nice indeed."

"Amanda is mixing them now, and when they are cut out, I am going to help with the turtles. Good-bye, mother; I will bring you one of my turtles as soon as they are baked."

These turtle cakes were much prized by the Conway children. When grandma sent a box from the farm there was always a supply of these famous cookies. Grandma had promised that Edna should take some home with her when she went on Saturday morning. She watched Amanda roll them out, cut them in rounds and place them in the pans; then came Edna's part in the preparation. Amanda showed her how to put first a big fat raisin in the center of the cake, then a current for the turtle's head, four cloves were then stuck in, part way under the raisin, thus making the feet, and for the tail, another clove with the sharp end out. Amanda could do them much faster than Edna, but the child was greatly pleased to have completed a whole pan all by herself, and when these were baked she carefully carried some of them to her mother and Aunt Alice. Grandma had already seen the results of her granddaughter's labors.

"I know just how to do them now, mother," said Edna, "and I think it is great fun. Grandma is going to save the pan I did so I can have them to carry home."

"You might have a tea-party for the dolls this afternoon, and use some of your cookies for refreshments."

"Could Reliance come?"

"Why, I should think so. I have thought of something else for you to do this morning; you could begin a Christmas gift for Celia. You know you always have a hard time keeping her gift a secret."

"What kind of thing could I make?"

"I noticed that your sister's little work bag was getting rather dingy and I am sure she would be delighted to have a new one."

"But where will I get anything to make it of?"

"No doubt grandma has something in her piece-bag; she always has all sorts of odds and ends, and it would give her pleasure to let you have anything that might serve the purpose. I will ask her, and we can get the ribbons for it any time between now and Christmas."

Her mother was as good as her word, and leaving the room came back in a few minutes with a large bag whose contents she emptied on the bed. "There," she said, "take your choice. Grandma says you are perfectly welcome to anything you find."

Edna began turning over the pieces. "You help me choose, mother," she said presently. "I don't know just how big the piece ought to be."

Her mother drew up her chair and began to look over the bits of gay silk before her. "I declare," she said presently, "here is a piece of a party frock I wore when I was about Celia's age. It was almost my first real new party frock, for before that I always wore a simple white muslin. This is perfectly new, and must have been left over. To think of its being in this bag all those years. It appears to be sufficiently strong, however." She shook it out and held it up to the light. The material was a pale green silk with tiny bunches of flowers upon it. Edna thought it very pretty.

"I think Celia will be perfectly delighted to have a bag made of your first party frock, mother," she said. "Do you think grandma would mind my having it?"

"I am sure she will be very much pleased. We will decide upon that, and you can put back the rest of the pieces. There will be an abundance in this for a nice, full bag I am sure. I will cut it out for you and show you just how to make it."

The time passed so rapidly in planning and making the bag that it was the dinner hour before they knew it, and after dinner came an unexpected call from Alcinda. She was a sedate-looking little girl with big blue eyes and straight, mouse-colored hair, but upon this occasion she was dimpling and smiling as she handed a tiny, three-cornered note to Edna. Upon opening this Edna discovered, written in a childish hand, the following words, "Mr. Jetty Hewlett requests the honor of Miss Edna Conway's company to a tea-party at four o'clock this afternoon."

"Oh, dear," sighed Edna, "I'm awfully afraid I can't go, for grandma said it was as much as my life was worth to go out of the house to-day."

"Oh, but you aren't ill, are you?" asked Alcinda.

"No, but she is afraid I will be."

"But you must come," persisted Alcinda, "for it is in honor of you and Reliance, and Jetty is going to help receive."

"I will go ask mother," returned Edna, and running off she returned with Mrs. Conway.

"Mayn't Edna come to Jetty's tea-party?" begged Alcinda. "We have everything planned, and it will be perfectly dreadful if she stays away. She won't take cold, just going across the street, and our house is as warm as anything."

Edna looked beseechingly at her mother. "Do please say yes, mother," she begged.

"I don't see how you could take cold going just across the street, if you wrap up well and wear your rubbers," said her mother.

"Goody! Goody!" cried Alcinda. "Here is an invitation for Reliance, too. Be sure to come at four o'clock. I have some more invitations to deliver so I must go."

"Now I needn't have a tea-party for the dolls," said Edna when Alcinda had gone. Her mother smiled. "You speak as if that would be a great hardship," she remarked.

"No, I don't mean that, but I would so much rather go to Alcinda's. Shall I wear my best frock, mother?"

"Why, yes, I think you may."

"I wonder if grandma will let Reliance go, and what she will wear," said Edna, after a moment's thought. "I think I will go ask, mother, for I don't want to be better dressed than Reliance; it was really she who saved Jetty, you know."