I am not feeling very well," answered Walter.

"Just try a little, Walter," said the mother coaxingly, "I know it
must be very tender and nice, for Deacon Phillips said it was a young
turkey."

"Yes, Walter," said his father, "hand me your plate, and I will give
you a little of the dark and a little of the light meat, with some of
this delicious dressing."

The boy listlessly handed over his plate without any more ado, his
father put onto it a liberal piece of each kind of meat and some
dressing, then handed it back, with the remark, "Eat all you can son,
for it will make you strong." Then he added, "Now wife, it's your turn,
I know you like the dark meat the best," and while he was talking he
carved a nice piece of the turkey and laid it on her plate, and then
said, "Now father, it is your turn, and I know your failing to be the
leg," and suiting the action to the word, he carved for himself the
leg.

Then, addressing his son once more, he asked,
"How did you like the sermon, Walter?"

"I thought it was very fine, father, and as I looked over the
congregation, I could see many heads nodding their approval of your
words telling them they ought to be thankful, and I tried, oh, so hard,
to be thankful, but I couldn't, for something seemed to say, you have
nothing to be thankful for, God gave you this sickness as a punishment.
I tried to think what I had done to merit this punishment, but found
it could not have been anything I had done, as I remembered that you