,- -¶
pearing in the doorway.
/ He was Stephen Butts, a relative of
~/~~1 the man who had married Martha's
only daughter, who, with her husband,
~ ~~'..~_--~~~ ~j~ now was dead.
~,~, ..-.. _. ~-.~. , He presently stated the object of his
o~-~.~~! z~.~ae~i.~/~.~ viMt. He had come to town from his
ranch, wishing to take Jacky back with
• . him. He and his wife would he glad
~rhe snow upon the hillside lay, tO adopt the boy, he said.
And thatched the cottage roof. "No, Butts," Martha replied, with a
The web of vines by the Pilgrim's door
Was fillet] with icy woof. touch of asperity, "I shouldn't feel a
"£he boughs Were leafless on the trees, bit relieved to be rid of Jaeky."
Across the barren plain
The north wind swept despairingly "And •I must stay to take care of
And moaned like one in pain. Granny," chimed in the child, slipping
(It whimpered like some hungry child his firm, pink hand into the wrinkled,
That clasps its parent's band brown one.
And pleads for bread when there is none
In all the dreary land.) Butts argued the matter awhile. He
A]pove the little Plymouth town, wanted the boy. Finally he went
Circling with empty maw, away, saying that he would not accept
Mocking their hunger, flew the crow,
Shrieking his "haw, haw, haw." Martha's decision as final. He would
Patience. a blue-eyed maiden, be in town again for Thanksgiv-
(Her eyes wi~h tears were dim), ing. * * *
From hunger feeble, trembling knelt That afternoon Martha went to the
And raised her voice to Him.
"'Dear Dod." she said in pleading tones, office of her lawyer, Mr. Crell.
Tender, plaintive and sweet. Mr. Crell greeted her cordially. 'Tin
"'We's almost 'tarred, an' won't 'oo glad you called in today, Mrs. Brent,"
ple~ S~~
Send down some tings to eat?" he said, giving her a chair. "I wanted
Then all day tong her watchful eyes to see you."
Gazed down the village street, "NO good news!" he said. "I've
l'~ot doubting but she soon woul,:l~see heard from Mr. Ford, but I'm sorry to
Some one with "tings to eat."
And, Io! before the sun had set, I~e obliged to tell ~ou that he writes he
With wild fowl laden down, does not see much use of continuin| $
Four hunters from the forest drear
Came marching into town. your pension cas~. He cannot d~scover
any one who knew Sergeant William
And (as in answer to the prayer), °
To add to all the cheer, Clay E~ James Brent."
And bar~lsh famine from the place, James Brent had retaken his true
4 Came Indians with deer.
~I'he joyous villagers rushed out name when he got his discharge from
The ladened ones to meet, the army three ye:~rs before his death,
• ]Jut Patience knelt and said: '°ranks, and came to live in this western town,
Dod,
For sendin' tings to eat." and now it seemed impossible to prove
~,--r~r'~a .*~ r-'~ "1 that he and Sergeant Clay were the
~P ~'~" A ~ ~ . ,) same m~n.
~~, His widow mortgaged the home to
~. ' " ~ Dawyer Ford, the pension attorney, I
The night before Thanksgiving I
found mamma sitting alone by the
window in the dark, and when I put
my cheek against hers it was all wet,
and I said out quick:
"Oh, pretty mamma, what is the mat-
ter?" and cried, too.
"I was thinking about your uncle
Jefferson," she answered, then she
dried her eyes and mine. "He will
be the only one who will not be here
at our Thanksgiving dinner."
"But why don't he ever come?" I
said.
"Three years ago he had a misun-
derstanding with your father," said
mamma.
"That means a quarrel," I said.
"What did he quarrel about?"
"The pronunciation of a word," said
mamma.
"The way a word ought to be spok-
en?" I asked.
"Yes," said mamma.
I thought that such a queer thing
who seeing no chance of winning the
case demanded payment of the mort-
oooo~....oO.O..(e.) gage. Crell told of Ford's demands. "MY POOR CHILD, WHAT DO YOU
(o) ~ Martha starte~. She grew very. WANT?"
" ~ SHALL D|I~CT ~ white• She had a poor head for bus]-' to quarrel about, but I did not say
THY PATH." ness matters, and she had not fully
realized, when she mortgaged her
property to meet the expenses of em-
A Th~rtksgivir, d Story. ~ ploying the Washington lawyer, that
she must lose it' if she did not get her
*********°**°******* pension. In the latter event the ten
"Trust in the Lord with all thy heart years' arrears due her would easily
* * * He shall direct thy path." have paid up the mortgage.
Old Martha Brent, murmuring "]~ hope we may be ab e to sire the
;natches of her day's verses, little real- place ~some way," said Mr. Crell, ob-
ized that a chal.enge to her faLh was serving her distress. "How about sell-
close at hand. ing that land on the river?"
She was dusting some books on a "Oh, sir, I cannot set1 that; it--"
shef in her sitting ~o:m, and just then Martha, half extending the deed from
she accidentally knocked one of them under her shawl, dr~w it sharply back
to the floor, into hiding•
The books had belonged to Martha's A fierce flood of terror set every
~'¢ I ~,~,~'I "What did you say. sir?" she asked,
(~ .._ nerve in her old body trembling.
~ i ~1 weakly. Mr. Crell explained that it
~1 would be wise to sell the land. "I'm
sure your husband would approve," he
said:
Martha rose from her chair abruptly.
"Yes, I believe James would want
• me to sell it," she declsrel; "h~'d want
~ anything rather than Jacky and I'd be
• without a home!" She went away
quickly.
Martha did not work well that after-
noon. Here mind was distracted. She
'~ ~ kept slipping her hand into jaer pocket
to feel the deed. It's possession con-
fused her actions.
Unable to stand the strain any long-
er she started to CreWs office to tell
the story. But on the way she met
Jacky returning from school.
"Come, you're tired. Let's hurry
home," said Jacky. "Why, t'.:at's not
the way home, Gr,mny! You're start-
ing uptown. See, it's well I came to
"Would he come if I was a ragged
fetch you. Take my shoulder; I~n
pretty big now." I little girl and asked him?" I said.
~CCIDENTALLY KNOCKED ONE TO Martha's determination wilted weak-I "He might," said mamma. "He is
THE FLOOR. " ly away. She went home with her boy. i always so very good to poor chil-
dren."
husband. She dusted them daily, but It was not until they Were seated at i "Then I will go and bring him," I
~he never had opened them since his supper that her sense of right put in a I
death, ten years before. Above the claim again. I said to myself, and ran away. Dinner
book shelf hung a bronze medal her 'Tve taken the second wrong step,! would not be ready for an hour, so I
husband had won for bravery in battle, and I've got to stop here!" She pulled cousinshad plentyplayingOf time.and talkingI lefttogether.all my
Stooping to get the fallen book, Mar- herself up. I was afraid some one would call me
tha also picked up a paper that had She knew that if the worst came to back, but I got away without being
tumbled out of it. It was a deed con- the worst she might go to the poor- seen and went into mamma's room
ferring a small piece of property below house, and tried to pursuade him to go and into a closet, where I knew an
the town to one Frederick Willis. to Butts'. old coat of papa's hung. I knew no
"Well, now, to think; I never knew Jacky's face clouded; he flung him- one would mind, so I got the big
James deeded that away!" thought self back in his chair, scissors and cut off some of the sleeves,
Martha. "Now, Granny," he cried, with tears, then I put it on; but it was so long
She had Just laid the paper aside, "you're talking as though you wanted that I could not walk, so I cut off the
whan the door burst open and a little me to go and you said you didn't; to make it ragged.
boy came flying in. you promised that I might always stay I climbed up on a chair after I was
"Granny!" he whispered, hurriedly, with you." dressed and peeped into the glass. I
"'you won't let him take me from you Martha's face fell from the wheed- looked just like a poor, poor little beg-
will you?" ling expresr0on it had assumed. She gar girl. It almost made me cry.
"Why, Jacky!" said Martha. :gave up the effort to persuade the "I hope I am ragged enough to suit
The boy's beautiful, flushed face child to wish to leave her as beyond Uncle Jefferson," I said, and I ran
was upturned to hers full of eager en- her strength. She rose abruptly after down stairs and out of the door. No
treaty, a few minutes and walked to the stov~ one heard me.
"Promise, you won't. Granny!" She lifted a lid and snatched the deed When I reached Dncle. Jefferson's
"No. no, Jacky," she said, patting from her pocket, f office his gig was standing at the door,
his head; "you never shall leave Gran- "Why, what are you doing now?" so I waited close by until he came out
ny unwillingly." Jack~ asked, surprised at the nervou~ of th~ house. I was afraid that after
"Morning, Martha," said a large, intensity of her actions, all 1~ would not listen, but the ms-
anything, for, of course, big folks
I know best.
"It was on Thanksgiving Day three
years ago," said mapama, "and he has
never been in the house since."
"He must be very cross and bad,"
I said.
"No, indeed, Hilda," said mamma.
"He is a splendid doctor, and very kin~
to the poor. He is ready to go and
see them any time, day or night. I
have often known him to take th(
ragged little children who were sent
for him in his gig."
Then she said again: "They will
all be here but he,"
"Shall I go and ask him ~o come?"
I said after a while. " I know where
he lives."
"No, Hilda, he would, not listen to
you," said mamma.
"If I was a ragged little girl would
he come?" I asked.
"He might," said mamma. Then
she sat very quiet and looked out of
the window for a long time, and I
knew she was thinking about Uncle
J eff~rson.
Next day every one came--grand-
ma, grandfather and all my aunts, un-
cles and cousins, big and little•
The table in the dining room was
bright and glittering with pretty glass,
silver and flowers. Every one seemed
happy, but I knew Just by her face
that mamma was still thinking,
"They are all here but Uncle Jeffer-
son."
So I went up to her and said:
"Maybe Uncle Jefferson will come
after all, mamma," but she shook her
head and the tears came into her eye.~.
ment he saw me he stopped and looked
at me all over through his glasses.
"Dear, dear, he said, "my poor
child, what do you want"
"f want you to come and see mam-
ma," I said.
He answered right away. "Certainly;
jump in and tell the boy where to
drive."
When the black boy lifted me into
the gig he laughed and said:
" Well, little rag-bag, where shall I
take you?"
Just that moment I forgot our num-
ber, so I pointed.
Uncle Jefferson sat down on the
other side of me, and away we went.
Well, before I knew it, the boy drove
down the wrong street, but there was
a gate into our back garden in this
street, and I told him to stop there.
It was very dark in the garden, but
I went straight up to the dining-room
door, Uncle Jefferson following close
behind. As I ran up the steps I threw
away the old coat and handkerchief.
for 7 knew mamma wanted me to look
nice.
When I pushed open the door and
c~tlled out, "Here is Uncle Jefferson,"
every one stopped talking and turned
around.
Well, I aon't know what happened
after that, but anyhow in a few mo-
ments they were all shaking hands,
and mamma was crying, but thi~ time
she looked so happy.
When at last they all sat down, I
next to mamma on one side and U~cle
Jefferson on the other, she said: "You
dear little fairy, how did you man-
age to make him come?"
'then I told her about the old coat,
and she to!d everybody else, and they
laughed, bncle Jefferson louder than
all the others.
Mamma said it was the very hap-
piest Thanksgiving Day she had ever
known, and all my cousins said it was
~he very best Thanksgiving dinner
ever eaten.
Well, after that day Uncle Jeffersor.
and I were the best of friends, ano
he always called me his Thanksgiving
fairy.
I move my arm-chair to the door that
fronts the autumn wold,
And gaze upon the stately trees, proud
in their garb of gold;
The quail her brood is calling where the
brooklet runs away
To find the sea, and Nature smiles this
glad Thanksgiving day.
The years have touched my hair with
gray, hut still above-me flies
The fairest flag that flaunts its folds
against the azure skies.
I watch it in its beauty as it floats 'twixt
sea knd sea,
From every lofty mountain top o'er peo-
ple truly free.
No war within our borders, we can all
rejoice to-day;
At peace with all the nations far beyond
the dashing spray!
Our navies ride ii1 every sea, our honor
is as true
As when was first baptized in blood the
old Red, White and Blue.
I thank the loving Father, He who
watches over all,
For blessings on our land bestowed from
mountain wall to wall;
For harvests that were bountiful from
far Dakota's plain
To where the old Penobscot rushes 'neath
the pines of Maine.
I seem to catch the echoes of an anthem
in the South,
V/here sings the golden oriole In some
grim canon's mouth;
And the laurel and the cedar and the
branching chestnut tree
Grow side by side, where once were
pitched the tents of Grant and Lee,
I hear no more the battle drums that
be'at in manhood's day,
For side by side, fore'or at peace, are
standing Blue and Gray;
Together they are marching to the des-
tiny of fame,
And each one crowns with deathless
wreath our country's noble name.
I dream of coming ages which our na-
tion loved will crown
With mighty triumphs which to her shall
give a new renown;
Until in conscious wonder every country
'neath the sun
Shall ring with lofty plaudits for the land
of Washington.
We're marching on to greater things, as
vessels sweep the sea: •
And each Thanksgiving fills our hearts
with blessings yet to be.
America is destined, if to God we're only
true,
To be the favored nation 'neath the can-
opy of blue.
Then let the, bells all ring today through-
out our cherished clime;
Let old and young with pride rejoice this
glad Thanksgiving time;
Let paeans rise from morn till eve and
nothing come to mar
The hope that rules our happy land be-
neath the stripe ~nd star.
The winds blow through the autumn
boughs; methinks I hear a tread.
A merry laugh and a little hand is laid
upon my head;
And soft lips touch my wrinkled cheek,
and this is what they say:
"i've come to kiss you, grandpa, dear, a
thankful kiss to-day!"
My eyes grow misty as my arms about
the wee one twine;
I cannot see the meadow and the wood-
land's golden line;
My old, old heart beats faster, as it bub-
bles o'er with bliss,
And silently I'm thankful for the ~
~hanksgiTtng kiss.
I've b'en countin' up my olessin's, I've be'n summin' up my woes
But I ain't got th' conclusion sum would nat'rally suppose.
Why I quit a countin' troubles 'fore I had half a score,
While th' more I count my blessin's I keep findin' more an' more.
There's been things that wa'n't exactly as I thought they'd ought t' be, /
And I've often growled at Providence fer not a pettin' me;
But I hadn't stopped t' reckon what th' other side had be'n,
So I guess it wa'n't correct, the way I calkerlated then.
For there's be'n a gift o' sunshine after every shower o' tears, !
And I've found a load o' laughter scattered all along th' years,
If th' thorns have pricked me sometimes, I've good reasons to suppose )
L~ve has hid 'era often from me 'neath the rapture of th' rose.
So I'm goin' t' still be thankful fer th' sunshine and th' rain,
For th' joy that's made me happy; for th' purgin' done by pain;
For th' love of little children; for the friends thet have' be'n true;
For th' guidin' Hand that's led me ev'ry threat'nin' danger through.
I'm rejoicin' in th' mercy that can take my sins away,
In th' Love that gives me courage in th' thickest of the fray.
I am thankful for th' goodness that from heaven fellers me
0i how happy and how thankful I forever ought t' be.
So jest let us count our blessin's as we're journeyin' along,
Then we'll find less time fer growlin', and more fer mirth cud song
When you lift your eyes t' heaven earthly shadows flee away--
Let us learn this lovin' lesson as we keep Thanksgivin' Day.
--Ram's Horn.
not be lost upon those wh~ hear, nor
In ulanning for our Thanksgiving
dinner, our miI~ds naturally recur to
the time-honored dishes as roast tur-
key, pumpkin pie, "~ranberry sauce,
baked Indian pudding, etc., and our
feast never seems quite eomplet~, with-
out them. It is not always possible,
however, to have turkey and some
do not care for it. Roast goose, chick-
on, duck, pork, or beef may be subSti-
tuted for it. Another nice dish is
"mock duck," .or pork tenderloins
baked with a bread dressing flavored
with herbs and onions. A menu that
is semi-old-fashioned-but usually liked
is oyster soup, roast turkey with
mashed potatoes, turnips, baked
squash, pickles--sweet and sour--jel-
lies; a salad, mince and pumpkin pie;
fruit, nuts and coffee. It is well to
have some kind of light pudding for
those who do not eat pie. If oysters
cannot be procured, vegetable oysters
may be substitute~. Cream tomate is
a favorite kind of soup.
.'. ,aT_
Cooking the Turkey.
To prepare the turkey for the oven,
split the skin at the back of the neck,
take out the neck bone, cut it close
to the body. Draw the crop and the
intestines; clean and wash thorough-
ly; fill both crop and stomach cavities
with stuffing. Turn the neck skin down
under the back; tie a string round and
bring the two ends of the string over
the wings and tie on the breast. When
ready to bake put the bird in the roast-
ing pan; add a little water, small
quantities of chopped celery, carrots
and onions, two cloves and a small
bunch of parsley. Baste with the
gravy every fifteen minutes. Cook in
a moderately hot oven for about two
and a half or three hours. The pres-
sure of the thumb behind the second
Joint of the wing will readily break
the flesh when it is sufficiently cooked.
Take off strings used in dressing be-
fore serving on table. After the turkey
ms been taken out add a little water
an~ flour to gTavy left in pan; boil for
a few minutes; strain and remove all
grease that comes to the top. Serve
in sauceboat.
There is danger that the religious
slgnlficanco of Thank~gving day may
be forgotten. We so soon grow accus-
tomed to our blessings that we accept
them as a part of the general order of
things and naturally become ungrate-
fxlful by pure forgetfulness or indif-
ference. But as' a matter of fact most
things which come to us come by the
pure favor or courtesy of others, and
how unworthy do we consider the in-
grate! writes Roy. S. T. Willis in the
New York Ledger. He is one of the
most contemptible characters with
which we meet. We consider him even
uncivil who does not spontaneously
say or write "Thank you" for the
favors and kin~tness show~ him by his
fellow man. And this word of grate-
ful appreciation is never lost. Even
if it ~ay ~m to have no effect upon
him for Whom it waz given, it will
will its influence be powerless upon
him who bestows it. A cultivation of
the thanksgiving habit wiil make to
grow the sense of appreciation, and
as a result our splrils will be sweet-
cued, our souls enlarged and the whole
horizon of life beautified. Then the
ordinary affairs of life will never more
be commonplace; our conditions and
surroundings will always appear in a
fresh light• This is significant. The
man whose family find in him a source
of endless delight and joy is one who
does not suffer the common relation-
ships and the daily intercourse to be-
come colorless and arid. Such a man
keeps love alive by cultivating the
sentiment of affection. His face, his
voice, his deed, makes the o d courses
of life brim and sparkle with a full
current of tenderness and feeling. So
it is again with the great artist who
sees the common in an uncommon
light and clothes the most ordinary
objects with beauty and charm. In
like manner the religious nature dis-
closes its presence by the unfailing
~freshness of its feeling for all rela-
tions and seasons and customs and
i days. It numbers its blessings daily,
!and daily does it express gratitude be-
cause it feels deeply and gladly the
weight of its vast indebtedness. The
years may differ greatly in the com-
forts and blessings they bring, but
God's unbroken beneficence knows no
divisions" of time. His bounty is aa
unbroken eternity. All years, how-
ever hard in the experiences they
bring, are years of blessedness; it
should be ours to receive what God
sends and to be constant!y thankful.
We should thank him who has made
us and preserved us ~s a nation.
Who rove:tied this continent when
the proper time had cJme, and called
to its sh~res faithiul and G:.dly men
who believed in Him and in men as
His children.
Who preserved the national seeds
planted in our colonies and united
them for liberty and independence.
Who made our young nation wise ~u
counsel and strong in defense.
Who pacified t~e strifes and era¢d-
cated the jealous:es that separated
our states and joined them anew in
one indissoluble union.
Who has given us the wisdom to es-
tablish free schco:s and free churches,
and has given us' brave hearted and
~lear headed men to sacrifice and toil
for the public virtue and peace•
Who has given us an open Bible, a
risen Christ, a loving church and a
redeeming God.
Who crcwueth this ye]r of grace
with His b:,untiful goodness.
i Oh, that men would praise the Lord
for His goodness' and His wonderful
works to the children of men.*
0-
--.~:~.~ .~ =, .',vs.:';.v.~:~.!~.: .....
~I/IIIII'~W"
The Thanksgiving Tabl~
The table for the Thanksgiving d~n-
ner should be set with the prettiest
glass, china and silver that the house
affords. Little individual paper cups
with frills of orange-colored tissue pa-
per. at each place would brighten the
table. , These are filled with nuts and
candies. Name cards are decorafed
with a bow of orange ribbon or some
appropriate decoration as a pumpkin,
turkey, autumn scene, flower or leaf or
some appropriate quotation sketched in
pen and ink or painted in water color.
These of course for a family reunion
are not necessary, but they serve to
make the table decorations more pleas-
ing. Gourds hollowed out make pretty
receptacles for nuts. Pressed ferns and
autumn leaves also add much to the
table decorations.
Adam should have been a happ
man. He had no mother-in-law.
It's difficult to convince the unlucky
man that there Is no such tban~
luck. .,
