THANKSGIVING DAY.


The next day was Thanksgiving. Dotty wakened in such a happy mood that it
seemed to her the world had never looked so bright before.

"I don't think, Prudy, it's the turkey and plum pudding we're going to
have that makes me so happy--do you?"

"What is it, then, little sister?"

"O, it's 'cause I dreamed I was sleeping on pin-feathers, and woke up and
found I wasn't. You'd feel a great deal better, Prudy, if you'd run away
and had such a dreadful time, and got home again."

"I don't want to try it," returned Prudy, with a smile.

"No; but it's so nice to be forgiven!" said Dotty, laying her hand on her
heart, "it makes you feel so easy right in here."

A fear came over Prudy that the little runaway had not been punished
enough. But Dotty went on:--

"It makes you feel as if you'd never be naughty again. Now, if my mamma
was always thumping me with a thimble, and scolding me so as to shake the
house, I shouldn't care; but when she is just like an angel, and forgives
me, I _do_ care."

"I'm so glad, Dotty! I think, honestly, mother's the best woman that