"One night a traveller, who was stopping with them, used a new word.
"'I don't know if Thanksgiving gets so far out as this,' he said.
"Mrs. Fiske only answered by a sigh; but her husband replied, 'Well, no! We've had pretty hard times for a spell back; and we never see no newspapers so's to know what day's appointed, and so we've kind of let it slide. It's a pity too, that's a fact. Why, the kids here don't even know what Thanksgiving means.'"
"Kids?" asked Max, wonderingly.
"He meant the children," laughed November. "It's rather a funny word, but some people use it; and as long as it tells what it means it's a good word. The little Fiskes were used to it.
"'Well,' the traveller went on, 'you shan't miss the Day this year for want of a paper any how. There's the "Democrat" of week before last, with the Governor's Proclamation and all. It's the 29th you see, four weeks from to-morrow.'
