He then complimented Ralph for his industry, and his willingness to make himself useful, and held him up to Oscar as a pattern he would do well to imitate.  He concluded his lecture to the latter, by drawing from his pocket a quarter of a dollar, and presenting it to Ralph, as a reward for his services.  This touched Oscar’s feelings rather more than his father’s reproofs.  He thought to himself that he had performed as much work in the store as Ralph, to say the least, and was therefore as much entitled to a reward as he.  There was this difference, however, which he entirely overlooked:  Oscar did his share of the work reluctantly and from compulsion; Ralph did his cheerfully and voluntarily, and solely for the purpose of making himself useful.

CHAPTER VII.

THANKSGIVING-DAY.

Thanksgiving-Day had come.  Among the multitude of good things it brought with it, not the least important, in the eyes of the children, was a visit from their grandmother, Mrs. Lee, who arrived the evening previous.  She was the mother of Mrs. Preston, and lived in a distant town in Vermont.  She had not visited the family for several years, and the children and their parents were all very glad to see her once more.  She was much surprised to find how the young folks had grown since she last saw them.  Alice had shot up into a young lady, Oscar, who she remembered as “a little bit of a fellow,” was a tall boy, Ella, too, was quite a miss, and Georgie, “the baby,” had long since exchanged his frock for the jacket, trowsers, and boots, of boyhood.  All these changes had happened since their grandmother’s last visit; and yet she was just the same pleasant, talkative old lady that she was years ago.  The children could not discover that time had left so much as one new wrinkle on her well-remembered face.

[Illustration:  Thanksgiving Market Scene.]

After breakfast, their grandmother proceeded to unpack her trunk.  From its capacious depths she drew forth sundry articles,—­specimens of her own handiwork,—­which she distributed among the children, as gifts.  They were all articles of utility, such as warm, “country-knit” mittens and socks for the boys, and tippets and stockings for the girls.  A large bag filled with nuts, and another of pop-corn, were also among the contents of the trunk, and were handed to the children to be divided among them.

In accordance with an agreement made the day before, Oscar soon left the house, and went in search of Alfred.  Having found him, they set out for South Boston, in company with two or three boys, to witness a shooting-match got up by a man who worked about the stable.  The spot selected for the sport was a retired field, where there was little danger of being interrupted.  On reaching the ground, the boys found a small collection of young men and lads already engaged in the cruel amusement; for the mark was a live fowl, tied to a