Part 9 (1/2)
”Dito cause Mr. Strong is our preecher--he's got some sense.
”Dito for his wife.
”Dito for Towzer. He's a good dog.
”Dito for all the rest of our family.
”Dito cause we have some shoes to wear this winter.
”Dito cause for carrots and beets and turnips and cabbige and potatoes. They don't take the place of turkey, but they are good vittles.
”Dito for the hens that lay eggs so we cant kill them for Thanksgiving dinner.
”Dito for the eggs. They meen muny, Gale says.
”Dito for the hot biskits we are going to have for supper.
”Dito cause this paper wont hold any more. My hand akes.
”Amen. Peace Greenfield.”
For a long moment Gail sat with tear-dimmed eyes fixed on the queer list before her; then she reverently tucked the badly-written sheet away among her treasures, and in her heart offered up a little prayer of thanksgiving for the blessed gift of so many sisters.
Thanksgiving Day dawned clear and cold upon a world of dazzling whiteness, and with the first ray of the sun, Peace flew out of bed, scrambling into her clothes with such eager haste that Cherry opened her eyes and demanded, ”What are you hurrying for? The house is cold as a barn. Gail slept late this morning, and the fire can't be more than beginning to burn.”
”Huh, I don't care! It snowed last night, and I'm going out to shovel,”
was the scornful reply. ”If you want a chance to help, you will have to hurry.”
Allee scrambled out from the warm blankets, but Cherry snuggled down closer in the pillows with a contented grunt, and was soon lost in slumberland again, so the two youngest sisters had the whole snow-covered world to themselves when they stepped out into the winter morning with shovel and broom.
”Whee! Isn't this fine!” cried Peace, whirling a cloud of feathery flakes off the porch with one sweep. ”We won't need the shovel at all, the snow is so light.”
Beauty-loving Allee stopped awestruck on the threshold to drink in the glory of the winter dawn, saying slowly, ”It is--it looks like--”
”Ice-cream,” finished Peace. ”S'posing it was ice-cream and we could have all we wanted. Wouldn't we be a sick crowd by night?”
The startled sister pulled on her mittens and trudged down the steps to work, and in a few minutes, the porches and paths were swept clean.
”Wish there was more to do,” sighed Allee, when they had finished their chosen task, unwilling to go indoors even for breakfast.
”Tell you what,” cried Peace, from her perch on the gatepost. ”Let's go down to the village and sweep paths for money. Perhaps we could earn enough to buy a chicken.”
”All right! Where will we go?”
”Judge Abbott will pay us, I'm sure, and Mr. Strong would hire us, too, if he hasn't swept his own walks. Maybe Lute Dunbar isn't home yet and we can get their paths.”
Without further discussion they sped away to town, dragging their brooms behind them. But here disappointment awaited the small toilers, for at nearly every house some enterprising soul had already cleared away the light snow.
”Lute Dunbar must be at home, I guess,” sighed Peace, when she beheld the neat paths circling that house; ”and Mr. Strong has swept his whole yard, looks like. Well, Judge Abbott's porch is all covered yet. Hector is lazy. We will try him.”