i took a run back to grandmother's for what those americans call thanksgiving—it is most amusing to foreigners like me—and yick.

on grandmother's table there was what they tell me is the regulation dinner for the day—roast turkey and pumpkin pie.

when yick, in his best costume, had walked proudly into the dining room with the immense turkey on a platter, and deposited it on the table, he returned to the kitchen convulsed with laughter, betty has told me since.

"christians queer people! christians queer people!" he sputtered merrily. "thank god eat turkey, thank god eat turkey!"

i knew what yick meant, the oriental idea of thanking god would have been some act of self-denial. it was hard for the poor "heathen chinee" to construe the american self-indulgence into an act of thanksgiving. poor yick, and poor yellow pearl! how far both of you are from comprehending civilisation.