Part 20 (2/2)

”What is the baby's name?” asked Mr. Whiting, preparing to depart.

”Her name is a compromise,” answered Mrs. Banks, pulling out her damp handkerchief to wipe the baby's eyes which had instantly overflowed at hearing herself called a ”mean name,” as she whimpered into her mother's ear. ”To please me we named her Cleopatra, but we always call her Pat, her father was such a one for plain names.”

When Mr. Whiting and Susan reached home they found Grandmother and Miss Liza rocking placidly before a roaring fire, and room was made for Grandfather's chair with Susan on a cricket at his feet.

”Now, we will tell what we are most thankful for,” said Grandmother, when the story of the call at the Banks' had been related, and a way of helping Mrs. Banks support her six children had been discussed. ”You begin, Miss Liza.”

”I'm thankful,” said Miss Liza, without a moment's hesitation, ”for good friends, for health, and a home.”

”I'm most thankful,” said Grandmother, ”for Grandfather, and Susan, and a peaceful life. I couldn't live in strife with any one.”

Grandfather thrust his boots out toward the fire and pulled his silk handkerchief from his pocket.

”I'm thankful,” said he, carefully spreading his handkerchief over his head, ”I'm thankful for my home, and that means Grandmother and Susan, and I'm thankful, too, that I have my own teeth. I mean it, I'm not joking.” And he soberly snapped his strong white teeth together without a smile.

”I'm thankful,” piped up Susan, glad her turn had come, ”for Grandfather, and Grandmother, and Miss Liza, and Snuff, and Flip, and Nero, and-”

Grandfather caught her up from the cricket and held her in his arms.

”My black-eyed Susan,” said he, tenderly.

Susan looked round with a smile.

”I think,” said she,-”I think I'm thankful-why, I think I'm thankful for just everything.”

THE END

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