t of knock
this time.

The heaven-born inventor's face widened in beatified smiles of
expectation at this, but Eph looked him sternly in the eye.

"Jeddediah Jodkins!" he said; "if that is any more people bringing
things to eat to this house, they'll have to go away. We can't have
it. We've got enough here now to feed a--a boarding school."

The heaven-born inventor sprang eagerly to his feet. "Don't you do it,
Eph," he said, "don't you do it. I've just thought of a way to can
it."

A thinly clad man and woman stood at the door which Eph opened. Both
looked pale and tired, and the woman shivered.

"Can you tell me where I can get work," asked the man, doggedly, "so
that I can earn a little something to eat? We are not beggars"--he
flushed a little through his pallor--"but I have had no work lately,
and we have eaten nothing since yesterday. We are looking--"

The man stopped, and well he might, for Eph was dancing wildly about
the two, and hustling them into the house.

"Come in!" he shouted. "Come in! Come in! You're the folks we are
waiting for! Eat? Why, goodness gra-cious! We've got so much to eat we
don't know what to do with it."

He had them in chairs in a moment and was piling steaming roast turkey
on their plates. "There!" he said, "don't you say another word till
you have filled up on that. Folks"--and he returned to the
others--"here's two friends that have come to stay a week with us and
help eat turkey. Fall to! This is going to be the pleasantest
Thanksgiving we've had yet."

And thus two new inmates were added to Todd's asylum.

HOW WE KEPT THANKSGIVING AT OLDTOWN[7]

BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

The old-time New England Thanksgiving has been described
many times, but never better then by the author of "Uncle
Tom's Cabin" in her less successful but more artistic novel,
"Oldtown Folks," from which book the following narrative has
been adapted.

When the apples were all gathered and the cider was all made, and the
yellow pumpkins were rolled in from many a hill in billows of gold,
and the corn was husked, and the labours of the season were done, and
the warm, late days of Indian summer came in, dreamy and calm and
still, with just frost enough to crisp the ground of a morning, but
with warm trances of benignant, sunny hours at noon, there came over
the community a sort of genial repose of spirit--a sense of something
accomplished, and of a new golden mark mad