"I
tells you what, chilluns, yo' all am suttinly gwine to hab one grand
feed."
"I wish everybody was," said Flossie, a bit wistfully. "I hope our cat
Snoop, wherever he is, has plenty of milk, and some nice turkey bones."
"I guess he will have," said Mamma Bobbsey, gently.
"I hope all the poor children in our school have enough to eat," said
Freddie. "Mr. Tetlow said for us to bring what we could for them."
"And you never told me!" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. "Why didn't you? I
would have sent something."
Neither Bert nor Nan had thought to mention at home that a collection
would be taken at the school for the poor families in the town. But as
soon as Mrs. Bobbsey heard what Freddie said she telephoned to her
husband. Mr. Bobbsey went to see Mr. Tetiow, and from him learned that
there were a number of families who would not have a very happy
Thanksgiving.
Then the lumber merchant gave certain orders to his grocer and butcher,
and if a number of poor people were not well supplied with food that
gladsome season, it was not the fault of Mr. Bobbsey.
But I am getting a little ahead of my story.
A few days before Thanksgiving Mrs. Bobbsey, with a letter in her hand,
came to where the four twins were in the sitting room, talking over what
they wanted for Christmas.
"Guess who are coming to spend Thanksgiving with us!" cried Mamma
Bobbsey, as she waved the letter in the air.
"Uncle Bobbsey!" guessed Nan.
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