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2/ sun waiting for them. In shirt sleeves he began carving after finishing his g.f. Then the plates were piled with the sliced turkey, dressing, mashed white and candied sweet potato, a smitiare (smither) of squash, peas, and a rose-colored sweetened cooked apple. Don't know how it was prepared but it was awful good as was everything. Never tasted better turkey, it was delicious! Their giblet gravy was passed with cranberry jelly, olives, celery and radishes. I omitted the olive and c & r. Mrs. Catlin is a slow eater and we kept pace with each other after everybody else had finished. Then the table was cleared and we had a lovely steamed pudding with lemon sauce. That sound too plebian for it was an aristocratic version of a fine dessert.

 Mr. Slaughter soon betook himself to his sisters bed while we women both talked and they quizzed me so I told them the story of Uncle John's living with mother and me, his taking my (his) auto when I was in Chicago hospital, his oil wells, my work with the library, etc.

Altogether it was quite a bit of family history that I never dwell upon to my neighbors, but I enjoyed telling it to them for they were so sympathetic and responsive to my bits of vigorous language. Mr. Slaughter and Miss Avis took me home about 4:30. I had expressed a desire to go at 3:30 but they urged that I had nothing to go home for. They all