One Thanksgiving Day [pp. 476-478]

OVERLAND MONTHLY
ings. Thley were small. People are
mostlv satisfied with machine-made buttonholes.
"There'll be enough for a turkey dinner an-yway,- of course, there'll be an
awful lot of them, but I'll get paid tonight,- I can get stuff enough, I know."
Her thotughlts went to her cheeks and
made them pink. She rapped sharply on
the winidow to the two boys, who were
sitting outside close together, planning
their deviltry.
Boys," she called, "I'll tell you,- I
can't eat my turkey all alone tomorrow.
I never do." (Oh, buttonholer, when did
you eat turkey last?) "So I'm a-going to
bring it to the party, and maybe a few
fixin's."
The boys gasped.
"And I want you to help me carry
things to the table tomorrow. We'll set
it right in the middle of the Pocket there,
and wNe'll have a real good time."
The boys forgot their plans. They
were not pretty plans. Immediately they
began to plan with her. Hers were
eatin' " plans. Theirs could wait.
On her wav home from leaving her
work that night, the little buttonholer
pushed her way through into crowded
shops, and spent all her savings away.
He-r arms were loaded full, her cheeks
still pink, and her eyes shining. Never
in all her life had she spent money like
this.
"Them poor boys," she said to herself
and laughed.
The red-faced policeman, whose beat
was near the Pocket, insisted on carrying some of the bundles for her. He also
approved of her.
Goin' to keep Thanksgivin', I guess,"
he said with his eyes on her pink cheeks.
The pink cheeks grew pinker, and she
dropped a bundle and said, "Yes."
About noon on Thanksgiving Day the
Pocket was aghast to see the little onesided buttonholer handing out her table.
Their curiosity become morbid when
they saw her proceed to set it.
The boys added supplies also. Heads
of lettuce, a few apples, raw turnips, and
potatoes, a great quantity of cranberries.
"We were after gettin''em," one explained.
The little buttonholer asked no questions. She thought maybe they had run
errands for them. Her heart was one of
gentle simplicity.
0, how good the Pocket smelled!
Lovely! Why, it smelled just as good
as a restaurant. The turkey was the biggest in the world. And so brown!
The guests all came, and in time to
see the struggle to make the dishes go
round, (they did n't,) and to get boxes
and chairs enough to sit on.
Then the party began. The little buttonholer sat at the head of the table, and
hacked off pieces of turkey. Her two
helpers were everywhere. They shoved
back the crowd, which would come too
near, they passed things, they bossed
gloriously. 0, but this was a party!
Such things to eat, and so much!
One proposed a toast, only there were
but two glasses, to "Our Holy Wan,"
and bowed to the little buttonholer. For
the time she had touched the boy's heart,
and he glorified her. But at this she
looked so shocked, the other boy said
quickly, "Our Button Holy Wan, of
course!"
They always helped each other out
Years later it stood them in good stead.
"It ain't no lie," said one of the guests
to another. "There is everythin' to eat.
Won't I lick him tomorrer!"
The noise and uproar grew so loud at
the party, that the policeman heard it out
on the street and shoved his way into the
Pocket. His face became redder when
he saw the little buttonholer seated onr
the soap-boxes dealing out goodies.
By thle tile a huge cake, covered with
wonlderful frosting, was cut, the "party"
was nearly uncontrollable, and the policeman began to think his services
would be needed.
The little buttonholer cut the cake
down to the very last piece, and passed
that piece to him. "0, you keep it yourself," he said awkwardly.
Her pink cheeks grew pinker yet as
she replied: "Thanks, I never use cake.
I shall admire you to eat it."
One of the boys winked at the other
and said loudly: "De nex' party we gives
is goin' to be a weddin'!"
The big policeman forgot to box the
boy's ears. He was looking at the pink
cheeks, and the laughter of the'party"
filled the whole Pocket, and rang out to
the street.
478