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The Hunniwell Thanksgiving dinner was an entire success.Even Captain Sam himself was forced to admit it, although he professed to do so with reluctance.

"Yes," he said, with an elaborate wink in the direction of his guests, "it's a pretty good dinner, considerin' everything.Of course 'tain't what a feller used to get down at Sam Coy's eatin'-house on Atlantic Avenue, but it's pretty good--as I say, when everything's considered."His daughter was highly indignant."Do you mean to say that this dinner isn't as good as those you used to get at that Boston restaurant, Pa?" she demanded."Don't you dare say such a thing."Her father tugged at his beard and looked tremendously solemn.

"Well," he observed, "as a boy I was brought up to always speak the truth and I've tried to live up to my early trainin'.Speakin' as a truthful man, then, I'm obliged to say that this dinner ain't like those I used to get at Sam Coy's."Ruth put in a word."Well, then, Captain Hunniwell," she said, "Ithink the restaurant you refer to must be one of the best in the world."Before the captain could reply, Maud did it for him.

"Mrs.Armstrong," she cautioned, "you mustn't take my father too seriously.He dearly loves to catch people with what he hopes is a joke.For a minute he caught even me this time, but I see through him now.He didn't say the dinner at his precious restaurant was BETTER than this one, he said it wasn't like it, that's all.Which is probably true," she added, with withering scorn."But what Ishould like to know is what he means by his 'everything considered.'"Her father's gravity was unshaken."Well," he said, "all I meant was that this was a pretty good dinner, considerin' who was responsible for gettin' it up.""I see, I see.Mrs.Ellis, our housekeeper, and I are responsible, Mrs.Armstrong, so you understand now who he is shooting at.Very well, Pa," she added, calmly, "the rest of us will have our dessert now.You can get yours at Sam Coy's."The dessert was mince pie and a Boston frozen pudding, the latter an especial favorite of Captain Sam's.He capitulated at once.

"'Kamerad! Kamerad!'" he cried, holding up both hands."That's what the Germans say when they surrender, ain't it? I give in, Maud.You can shoot me against a stone wall, if you want to, only give me my frozen puddin' first.It ain't so much that I like the puddin'," he explained to Mrs.Armstrong, "but I never can make out whether it's flavored with tansy or spearmint.Maud won't tell me, but I know it's somethin' old-fashioned and reminds me of my grandmother; or, maybe, it's my grandfather; come to think, I guess likely 'tis."Ruth grasped his meaning later when she tasted the pudding and found it flavored with New England rum.

After dinner they adjourned to the parlor.Maud, being coaxed by her adoring father, played the piano.Then she sang.Then they all sang, all except Jed and the captain, that is.The latter declared that his voice had mildewed in the damp weather they had been having lately, and Jed excused himself on the ground that he had been warned not to sing because it was not healthy.

Barbara was surprised and shocked.

"Why, Uncle Jed!" she cried."You sing EVER so much.I heard you singing this morning."Jed nodded."Ye-es," he drawled, "but I was alone then and I'm liable to take chances with my own health.Bluey Batcheldor was in the shop last week, though, when I was tunin' up and it disagreed with HIM.""I don't believe it, Uncle Jed," with righteous indignation."How do you know it did?""'Cause he said so.He listened a spell, and then said I made him sick, so I took his word for it."Captain Sam laughed uproariously."You must be pretty bad then, Jed," he declared."Anybody who disagrees with Bluey Batcheldor must be pretty nigh the limit."Jed nodded."Um-hm," he said, reflectively, "pretty nigh, but not quite.Always seemed to me the real limit was anybody who agreed with him."So Jed, with Babbie on his knee, sat in the corner of the bay window looking out on the street, while Mrs.Armstrong and her brother and Miss Hunniwell played and sang and the captain applauded vigorously and loudly demanded more.After a time Ruth left the group at the piano and joined Jed and her daughter by the window.Captain Hunniwell came a few minutes later.

"Make a good-lookin' couple, don't they?" he whispered, bending down, and with a jerk of his head in the direction of the musicians."Your brother's a fine-lookin' young chap, Mrs.

Armstrong.And he acts as well as he looks.Don't know when I've taken such a shine to a young feller as I have to him.Yes, ma'am, they make a good-lookin' couple, even if one of 'em is my daughter."The speech was made without the slightest thought or suggestion of anything but delighted admiration and parental affection.

Nevertheless, Ruth, to whom it was made, started slightly, and, turning, regarded the pair at the piano.Maud was fingering the pages of a book of college songs and looking smilingly up into the face of Charles Phillips, who was looking down into hers.There was, apparently, nothing in the picture--a pretty one, by the way--to cause Mrs.Armstrong to gaze so fixedly or to bring the slight frown to her forehead.After a moment she turned toward Jed Winslow.Their eyes met and in his she saw the same startled hint of wonder, of possible trouble, she knew he must see in hers.Then they both looked away.