"I don't know. I think he is inclined to make his home in New York city. But Vernondale is a pleasant place and so near New York, as to be a sort of suburb."
"Well, I'm going to coax him, anyhow,—and now Aunt Alice, I'm going to ask you a big, big favor, may I?"
"Yes, you may ask, but I won't make any rash promises to grant it, until I hear what it is."
"Well,—I'm afraid you'll think I won't make them good enough,—but—I do want to make the pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving-day. Papa would be so surprised and pleased."
"Why, of course you may, child; I'll be very glad to be relieved of that duty, and cook will have all she can attend to."
"When is Uncle Fred coming?" said Frank, as they all sat at dinner that evening.
"The night before Thanksgiving," said Patty; "he'll arrive at about nine o'clock."
"Well, we'll give him a rousing welcome," said Frank, "a sort of 'Harvest Home,' you know."
"All right," said his father, who was ever ready for a frolic, "what can we do out of the ordinary?"
