sorry I called
you a cross-patch."

Nan was not to be outdone in kindness, so, when they played "Button,
button, who's got the button?" and it was her turn to go round, she
said, "Hold fast all I give you," with such a friendly smile at Tommy,
that he was not surprised to find the horse-hair ring in his hand
instead of the button. He only smiled back at her then, but when they
were going to bed, he offered Nan the best bite of his last apple; she
saw the ring on his stumpy little finger, accepted the bite, and peace
was declared. Both were ashamed of the temporary coldness, neither was
ashamed to say, "I was wrong, forgive me," so the childish friendship
remained unbroken, and the home in the willow lasted long, a pleasant
little castle in the air.

CHAPTER XXI. THANKSGIVING

This yearly festival was always kept at Plumfield in the good
old-fashioned way, and nothing was allowed to interfere with it. For
days beforehand, the little girls helped Asia and Mrs. Jo in store-room
and kitchen, making pies and puddings, sorting fruit, dusting dishes,
and being very busy and immensely important. The boys hovered on the
outskirts of the forbidden ground, sniffing the savory odors, peeping
in at the mysterious performances, and occasionally being permitted to
taste some delicacy in the process of preparation.

Something more than usual seemed to be on foot this year, for the girls
were as busy up-stairs as down, so were the boys in school-room and
barn, and a general air of bustle pervaded the house. There was a great
hunting up of old ribbons and finery, much cutting and pasting of gold
paper, and the most remarkable quantity of straw, gray cotton, flannel,
and big black beads, used by Franz and Mrs. Jo. Ned hammered at strange
machines in the workshop, Demi and Tommy went about murmuring to
themselves as if learning something. A fearful racket was heard in
Emil's room at intervals, and peals of laughter from the nursery when
Rob and Teddy were sent for and hidden from sight whole hours at a time.
But the thing that puzzled Mr. Bhaer the most was what became of Rob's
big pumpkin. It had been borne in triumph to the kitchen, where a dozen
golden-tinted pies soon after appeared. It would not have taken more
than a quarter of the mammoth vegetable to make them, yet where was the
rest? It disappeared, and Rob never seemed to care, only chuckled when
it was mentioned, and told his father, "To wait and see," for the fun of
t