"Never mind, my dear; we will not discuss that woman to-day. I hope you will some time learn to pronounce her name." Then followed a few remarks from Mr. Parlin upon our duty to the Giver of all good things; after which he began at last to carve the turkey. The children thought it was certainly time he did so. They were afraid their thankfulness would die out if they did not have something to eat pretty soon. CHAPTER X. GRANDMA'S OLD TIMES. Grandma Read was in her own room, sitting before a bright "clean" fire. She did not like coal; she said it made too much dust; so she always used wood. She sat with her knitting in her hands, clicking the needles merrily while she looked into the coals. People can see a great many things in coals. Just now she saw the face of her dear husband, who had long ago been buried out of her sight. He had a broad-brimmed hat on his head, and there was a twinkle in his eye, for he had been a funny man, and very fond of a joke. Grandma smiled as if she could almost hear him tell one of his droll stories. Presently there was a little tap at the door. Grandma roused herself, and looked up to see who was coming. "Walk in," said she; "walk in, my dear." "Yes'm, we came a-purpose to walk in," replied a cheery voice; and Prudy and Dotty danced into the room, with their arms about each other's waists. "O, how pleasant it seems in here!" said Prudy; "when I come in I always feel just like singing." "Thee likes my clean fire," said grandma. "But, grandma," said Dotty, "I should think you'd be lonesome 'thout anybody but _you_." "No, my dear; the room is always full." "Full, grandma?" "Yes; full of _memories_." The children looked about; but they only two sunny windows; a table with books on it, and a pair of gold fishes; a bed with snowy coverlet and very high pillows; a green and white carpet; a mahogany bureau and washing-stand; and then the bright fireplace, with a marble mantel, and a pair of gilt bellows hanging on a brass nail. It was a very neat and cheerful room; but they could not understand why there should be any more memories in it than there were in any other part of the house. "We old people live very much in the past," said grandma Read. "Prudence, if thee'll pick up this stitch for me, I will tell thee what I was thinking of when thee and Alice came in." So saying, she held out the little red mitten she was knitting, and at the same time took the spectacles off her nose and offered them to Prudy. Prudy laughed. "Why, grandma! my eyes are as good as can be. I don't wear glasses." "So thee doesn't, child, surely. I am a little absent-minded, thinking of old mother Knowles." "Grandma, please wait a minute," said Prudy, after she had picked up the stitch. "If you are going to tell a story, I want to get my work and bring it in here. I'm in a hurry about that scarf for mamma."