.MTU0.MzU4Mjk

The night before Thanksgiving at the parsonage, Nov. 26th, 1859.

Dear Sarah,

If you could only see the lots of good things that are on the table and see Mother as busy as a bee, not making [?] to be sure but stuffing the turkey. O, wouldn't you wish you'd been invited up to our house. Sometimes in my life I have seen an old picture of the night before Christmas. The old woman is very busy making a huge plum pudding and sewing it up in a canvass bag while seated on a chair with its front paws on the table is an old cat evidently anxiously waiting for his share of the good things. Whilst underneath was this beautiful poetry King Solomon, he a pudding did make a pudding did plums? he tied it up in a canvass bag and stuffed it well with plums? Now this is almost a fae simile of the night before Thanksgiving in this house but instead of its being a pudding it is a nice fat turkey. What are you doing to night Sarah? Is the Dr. in your room sitting on that chair by the bed side trying to look into your face but can't because it is so nicely shaded by the books. I'de knock them down if I was only there. Arnt you glad I'm not? What is he saying Sarah? Nothing soft or sweet I hope? not yet anything, about me