Thursday noon
Good-by -- it 's ` most noon . '' She hurried up Daphne Street in the snow , and I turned toward my lonely house . But I remember that I was planning how I would make my table pretty , and how I would add a delicacy or two from the City for this strange holiday feast . And I found myself hurrying to look over certain long-disused linen and silver , and to see whether my Cloth-o ' - Gold rose might be counted on to bloom by Thursday noon . `` We 'll set the table for seven folks , '' said Calliope , at my house on Thanksgiving morning . `` Seven ! '' I echoed .