"And rich brown gravy?" added the carpenter.

"And cranberry sauce and mince-pie?" supplemented Lufkins.

"Well, maybe we could git a rabbit for the turkey," answered the smith.

"And, by jinks! I kin make a lemon-pie that tastes like a chunk
dropped out of heaven," volunteered Keno, pulling at his sleeves.

"But what about that rich brown gravy?" queried the carpenter.

"Smoky White can dish up the slickest dough-nuts you ever slapped your
lip onto," informed the modest individual who stroked his chin.

"We can have pertatoes and beans and slapjacks on the side," a hopeful
miner reminded the company.

"You bet. Don't you worry; we can trot out a regular banquet," Field
assured them, optimistically. "S'posen we don't have turkey and
cranberry sauce and a big mince-pie?"

"I'd like that rich brown gravy," murmured the carpenter--"good and
thick and rich and brown."

"We could rig up a big, long table in the shop," planned the
blacksmith, "and put a hundred candles everywhere, and have the tree
all blazin' with lights, and you bet things would be gorgeous."

"If we git the tree," said Lufkins.