subject, and the complexion of the tablecloth.

The next round was mock turtle soup, and it made a deep impression, especially on Charlie Swayne, because little Casanova Golden upset her share in his lap when he least expected it.

Charlie was very nice about it, however.

He only swore twice, then he remembered once a gentleman always a gentleman and he did not strike the girl.

After a while we all convinced Charlie that the laugh was on the soup and not on him, and when the fish came on he forgot his troubles by getting a bone in his throat.

When Charlie began to talk like a trout, old man Hodge grabbed the bread knife and begged to be allowed to carve his initials on somebody's wishbone.

But Joe Coyne finally pacified him by a second helping of Bermuda onions.

I opened a third bottle of Pommery just to show I wasn't stingy.

Then came the Thanksgiving turkey, and this is where that Swede cook of ours won the blue ribbon.

My wife had told her to stuff it with chestnuts, but Ollie thought chestnuts too much of an old joke, so she stuffed it with peanut brittle.

Ollie had noticed some other things about the kitchen which looked lonesome, so she decided to put them in the turkey, too.

One of these was the corkscrew.

When I went to carve the turkey I found a horseshoe which Ollie had put in for luck.

It made my wife extremely nervous to see the can-opener, a pair of scissors, and nine clothes-pins come out of that turkey, but Jack Golden said that their last cook tried to stuff their last turkey with the garden hose, so my wife felt better.

The next round was some salad which Ollie had dressed in the kitchen, but the dress was such a bad fit that nobody could look at it without blushing.

Then we had some home-made ice cream for desert.

The ice was very good, but Ollie forgot to add the cream, so it tasted rather insipid.

Every time there was a lull in the conversation Charlie Swayne kept yelling for a Bronx cocktail, and the only thing that kept him from getting it was the fact that Riley Hatch wanted to tell the story of his life.

Anyway, the dinner came to a finish without anybody fainting, and the guests went home, a little hungry but unpoisoned.

The next morning my wife spoke bitterly to Ollie and she left us, followed by the Thanksgiving prayers of all those present.

The only thing about the house that loved Ollie was a pair of earrings belonging to my wife, and they went with her.

CHAPTER III

JOHN HENRY ON PATRIOTISM

Uncle Peter spent the Fourth of July at his old home in Ohio. I must show you a letter he wrote me a few days after that noisy event.

Dear John:

We had a nice quiet time on the Fourth with the exception of my ankle, which was somewhat dislocated because my foot stepped on an infant bombshell which same exploded for my benefit.

I like the idea of the Fourth with the exception of the noise.

I believe that if our forefathers had suspected that their great-grandchildren would make such an infernal racket on the Fourth of July they would have waited for a snow storm on the 16th of January before signing their John Hancocks, because then it would be too cold to explode firecrackers under your neighbor's eyebrows when he least expects it.

We had a nice quiet time at home on the Fourth, John, with the exception that little Oscar Maddy, who lives next door, presented me with a Roman candle which joined me between the third button on my waistcoat and the solar plexus.

I acknowledged the receipt by falling off the front step and barking my shoulder.

You should always remember, John, that the Fourth is the day when your patriotic voice should climb out of your thorax and make the welkin ring, but it isn't really necessary to get up a row between a stick of dynamite and a keg of