Herbert knew very well from his father's remarks that Absalom would be killed that very night, to be eaten upon the morrow, and he was very sad as they trudged homeward. But when he did arrive at his home he determined to do his best to save the old gobbler's life. Going down to the barn-yard, he was met by the bird, which, not being suspicious of his impending doom, ran gayly to meet his little friend. "Oh, Absalom," he said, "they would eat you to-morrow!" "Eat me to-morrow?" mused Absalom, wearily, for up to this time he had imagined that he was simply ornamental, like a peacock. "I don't quite understand you. Pray explain." Then Herbert told him about Thanksgiving day and its sacred traditions, and the poor bird was so badly upset that he couldn't conceal his emotion. He hurriedly wiped a tear from his eye with his left wattle, and thrust his head beneath his wing to conceal the fact that he was weeping. Herbert took him gently in his arms, and said, as he laid his cheek against his head, "Well, they sha'n't kill you if I can help it." And then he stole softly into the house, and, without being seen, carried Absalom up to the garret, and perched him gently on a rafter in a dark corner. He then put a little red shawl over him to protect him against the draughts, and fastened it just over his wish-bone with a safety-pin. "Now you must keep perfectly still until to-morrow is over." "I will do so," promised Absalom. "Promise me that you will not forget yourself and go 'gobble, gobble, gobble,' for if you should do so you would certainly be discovered, only to become a memory and a dinner." "I won't gobble once," replied Absalom; "I fully appreciate the importance of keeping still." Then Herbert gave him an ear or two of pop-corn that was hanging in the garret to dry, and afterwards went down stairs and brought him some tea-biscuits and cracked English walnuts. "You shall be the first gobbler on record to celebrate Thanksgiving by having a feast instead of making one. Here is some nice celery, and here is a handful of minced meat, and you shall have all you can eat to-morrow." "I shall never forget your kindness," said the gobbler, with feeling. "This is twice you have saved my life--once from being drowned in the rain, and once from being eaten with cranberry sauce. Believe me, I shall never forget your kindness." Just then they were startled by the voice of Herbert's father downstairs. "Michael," said he, "just go down to the barn-yard and chop the head off that gobbler!" It was an awful moment for Absalom, who almost shivered himself off his perch. After awhile Michael returned, long-faced and empty-handed. "I cannot find the gobbler, and I think the old Uncle Ned who works here by the day has stolen him for his Thanksgiving dinner."