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THE -SPIRIT OF THANKSGIVING
She Comes, and the Ulorld Is Brighter; She Comes and the doom’s Relieved! Hnd the Spirit of man Is Cighter Tor this Blessing fust Received. THANKSGIBBIN’ AM COMING ROUN’ In the fall of the year, when de leabea turn brown, An drab fum de trees till dey kiver up de grroun’ An de ripe persimmuns come a-pat terln down, Ef yo' frost bite burn an it looks like snow, Dea you bettah watch out, kaise befo’ you know Thanksgibbin will be on you sho. So wake up, niggahs, git out'a yo' beds. Go nosein roun', en ef you sec 1 turkey gobbler in- a tree „es’ praise de Lawd and hab no fear, Thanksgibbin day am a-darwin neah. Bf a white man thinks fall to hab some fun, An you sees him a-loading up a big shot-gun, I>en stay awake, niggah. when yo' day's work's done, Keep 'way film dat turkey wid all yo’ might An lay aroun' loose till a rainy night, Den 'arly in de morning, befo’ it gits light. Jes' koteh dat gobbler by de feet An say, "Come here, my turkey meat’” Don’t be a-fear’d, but bear in ipin’ Dey's mighty skeace an hard to fin’ Jes’ shet yo’ eyes an pull him down, Thanksgibbin day am a-creepin , roun’. "Wot a Jfaeblonablc Call. Mis’ Hepsey Tarbox, relict of the late Abijah, and Mis' Ednah Jane, ’she that was a Stone,” lived together. That is, Mrs. Edna made It her home at Mrs. Hepsey's, and In return for bed and board—Mrs. H’psey being nearly 80, and her own years not yet 70 —“did for her.” Mrs. Hepsey’s house, a square-built, ungainly edi fice, near the village center, might have accommodated her own "dar ter’s” family and to spare, had Mrs. Hepsey been a trifle less firm "agin seeing furniter she sot a deal o' store by kicked to pieces by Betsey’s boys.” It was in vain that Betsey i urged the need of a man about the .house to keep the "garding” in order, and in case of burglars. Mrs. Hep sey, despite “feeling” and "words” on her daughter’s part, nd the opinion on that of her neighbor*, that for her means and time of life such a course was being a little too "nigh,” still clung to Mrs. Ednah. Her next-door neighbor, by name Hannibal Archi bald. was, Mrs. Hepsey said, all the man she could "stomach” hanging about the place; and it was quite true that Mr. Archibald's visits were of almost daily occurrence, so fre quent. indeed, that the more facetious among the gossips were beginning to conjecture as to which of the widows might be the object of his attentions. Even sensible little Mrs. Betsey was not without qualms and a jealous souse of rivalry. “Boys will bo boys,” she thought, “until they are in, rt,” and that the honest claims of Mrs. Hep sey’s own blood in the way of both should have not only a "lot of old rickety furniter sot up agin ’em,” but a stranger of the same offending sex, was adding insult to injury. But for my call. Mrs. Hepsey was no exception to the popular faith that “other people's vittles better than your own.” She was always “sorter hankering arter" dainties cooked by her neighbors or friends, and one day told her niece-in-law, Mrs. Amy Drew, that she might bring her a loaf of her gingerbread, and “ef she could spare it as well as not,” a pint of milk, fresh from the cow, to drink with it. “Don’t bring 'em,” Mrs. Hepsey concluded, “onless you're coming envway. and it won’t be stint ing yourself.” The Drew farm was two good miles from the Tarbox man sion, and there was always something the matter with the Drew horses to prevent their being driven by wo men; but Mrs. Amy liked walking bet ter than riding, which was lucky, and as her aunt's request came close upon Thanksgiving, she fetched up on the afternoon before that day with three quarts of milk and a lame wrist —not to mention the gingerbread. “Amy Drew:” exclaimed Mrs. Ednah, as she answered the bell and seized the milk can, “you must be ready to drop.” “Well, Jim wanted to bring me over,” was Amy’s eager defense against the implied neglect, “but I wouldn’t let him; it’s such a lovely day, and I needed the exercise.” “The what? Well, I s’pose cookin’ up again' Thanksgiving ain't no ex ercise. I'm pretty well beat out with it myself, I know that, and we don’t make more’n 30 mince, let alone apple and pumpkin.” “What a lot! and I don’t make more than 12 in all.” “It is a lot, and so I tell her, but la! she’s always done It, and ain’t agoin' to give it up now ’thout come better reason than there bein' no one to eat ’em.” “Ednah Jaee," Mrs. Hepsey cried from the sitting-room “you git that milk out o’ your hands, and bring Amy in here outer that sofy! She’s a standin’ while you’re a talkin’, and she must be ready to drop.” “I wish 1 could have got over day before yesterday," said Mrs. Amy, when this somewhat coercive process had been accomplished. “I wanted you to get it in time for the baking.’ "Baking!” Mrs. Hepsey echoed. "Ednah Jane, you put that milk to rise where It will keep sweet, and don’t you go to wasting it on no pics.” And Ednah Jane departing to fulfill this command, Mrs. Hepsey stralghi- ened herself as for some heroic or deal, and said with great resolution: "Now, Amy Drew, I'm not agoin to have you tug all that milk over here for nothin’. You just sit still where you are, and don’t you let me hear a word out of your mouth, for I'm agoin’ j to pay for it.” “No. indeed!" said Amy, “neither Jim nor I would like it at all. He keeps two cows now. and we have ! plenty.” “I am," repeated Mrs. Hepsey, "I'm a-goin' to pay for that milk!” and she called to Ednah Jane for her purse: but pending its arrival the fact that she had begged only a pint asserted itself with such Indisputable force that when Ednah Jane appeared she said; — “If Amy won’t take nothin' for that milk, you just git her some o' them Bartlett pears—git three —no, four. You can eat four, can’t you? And if you can't you can tuck two into your bag—they won’t mush; they ain’t that kind. Ednah Jane, you git five while you're about it—and bring in some of that candy you got me last Christmas, and a slice o' one o’ your mince pies. Lord. Amy Drew, don’t yoj go to hindering me, it’s no more than you’ve done for me time and agin.” Mrs. Hepsey was a large-boned creature of heavy, masculine, itnper turable features. Her manner of speech, in good keeping, was appar ently undisturbed by any inner con flict; and yet, as, seated in an ungain ly wooden rocker of like structure and expression, she awaited the ex ecution of her order, Mrs. Drew was by no means Ignorant of thp late mAl ly contest between the spirit of Justice and that of "nighness," and, being touched by the conquest of the for mer, was quick to reward it by a gen erous expression of her pleasure; and certainly, whatever might be said of the Chistmas candy and the pie, the pears, which Mrs. Ednah had taken care should be of those least likely to be kept rather than to keep, de served her warmest praise. But un fortunately, she had hardly taken the first crisp and Juicy mouthful, before Mrs. Hepsey suddenly exclaim ed: “Lord help us, Ednah Jane, if there ain’t Mr. Archibald turning In here this very minlt! Amy, you eat them pears yourself. Don’t you go to glvin' on ’em, not one, to Mr. Archibald. He's got pears of his own, and there ain’t no sense In his hankering arter mine, ef they be a better kind'n hlsn ” "But I can’t eat ’em all!’ ventured Amy, to whom the idea of choking down five enormous pears in the pres ence of a hankerer was far from con genial. "Ednah Jane.” Mrs. Hepsey prompt ly and peremptorily ordered, “you Jest hide them pears and other things till be goes—tuck ’em under the table- cloth or anywhere ouv o' sight, amt be quick about it.” A suspiciously bumpy mound of tho pears and candy was hastily erected at Amy's elbow, but before the pie could be added, Mr. Archibald, whose easy going habit it was to dis pense with bell or knocker, stood in the doorway. Mrs. Hepsey at once frowned a pantomimic injunction that the pie—which ill-chance had dis covered in Amy's hands —was. no more than the pears, to be parted with in his favor. "Mr. Archibald,” she as sured her niece, sotto voce, "don't stand in any need of vittles, and ef you don't jest keep right, on eatin' it I shall really feel hurt.” "Wall,” said the all-unconscious visi tor, whose good-fellowship was not without a jocular vein—or feeling— “ ’pears to me. Miss Drew, I never And you here that you ain't afoul o' something to eat. Don't they feed you to hum?” “I have to cook for myself there,” Amy said, as facetiously responsive ns it is possible to be. under the difficul ties of conveying pie safely to the mouth by means of an old-fashioned steel knife, the blade of which is sharp-pointed, and has from long service been worn to a shadow 1 ; "be sides. Thanksgiving, you know, is a time to be greedy." Hannibal, who had given one good laugh to his own wit and' waited with open mouth for that of its answer, now gave another, and took his seat. "Talking o’ Thanksgiving," he said. "I just met Henry Mackintosh a fetching hum two turkeys that he'd been to Blockston to buy. Now. ac cording to my views, a man had oughter buy his Thanksgiving bird in his own town; for don't a man look ♦o hs own town to sell his own wares? Hen Mackintosh, for instance, where’d he his poU and kittles, I want to know, ef the rest on us all went a-tearing into Blockston after ourn?” And here, flushed with the happy sense that he was meeting tho popular view, he tilt ed back in his chair and fairy beamed; but, chancing to catch the eye of Mrs. Hepsey, so rigidly ir responsive was it, that his glory-in flated soul collapsed as suddenly as a small balloon with the gas let out. "One o’ them turkeys,” Mrs. Hvp sey coldly informed him, “was mine!” "Wall now, Mis' Tarbox.” he re sponded, “don't you go to gltting your back up about that turkey. 1 didn’t mean nothin,' and of course there's a difference." “I jist thought,” Mrs. < Hepsey said, with lofty and condescending defens iveness. "as Henry was a-goin’ in for b!s own anyway he might as well git two as one; and I don’t know as it was bread and butter to any one but our two selves." “Sartin. sartin,” the crestfallen Han nibal replied; and looking about for Inspiration to a topic less inflamma tory—or rather more congenial, for Hannibal’s conversational efforts were all of a positive and sympathetic character—his eye fell upon the par ings of Mrs. Drew’s pear, which had also escaped concealment, and again lightened up. He had stumbled on a subject who.rc his views could by no possibility fail of a full and congenial espousal. All breaches would at once he healed. "Ef there was one thing,” ho said, his manner seeming at. once to defy and to challenge contradiction. “I liked about old Tarbox inoro’n anotner it was that ho wa'n’t mean—Tarbox wa n’t —and seeln’ them pear chompins reminded me on’t. Ef a friend drop ped in ouexpeeted now, and he had fruit—or anything else for the matter of that —why it. wa’n’t out o' slght'n mind. It was thar, and that friend j was as welcome to a share on’t as he j was himself. He was openhearted, ’ that's what old Tarbox was, open hearted and openhanded." And again he paused—glowing in the warmth of his own creating—and presently asked, “Didn’t that air Bartlett o' hisn bear pretty full this year?” Mrs. Drew, whose risibles wore ia , danger of getting the better of her j politeness, received here a warning glance from Mrs. Hepsey, whoborneup by the ail sustaining justice of her own argument—that he had pears of his own—replied calmly. “Yourn bore too, If I recollect.” “Wall,” Mr. Hannibal said rising, | "I believe I’ll Just take a look at . As X,/ ‘‘MX' ':'h ■ ' -pi f ,*,4 ' )wM M'-y ■'■ X?y¥*&''■' 4XM' It a . i m rail ■ 1 a • - -v, Y X'S A \T.f - —, ■ A 5* - ! •' 'y THANKSGIVING ON THE NILE. Mr. Alligator—‘‘What will you have, dearest'<” Mrs. Alligator—“Some dark meat, without dressing, please.” Ednah Jane, and see that she ain’t a misbehavin’ herself, and then take my self off. You won't go a layln it up agin me. Miss Tarbox, now will you— about that air turkey?” But Mrs. Hepsey, though courteous, was suddenly evasive. "I don't see what’s your hurry,” she said. “You won't now, will you?" said he. "Can’t you stop a while longer?" said she, "Ednah'll be in, maybe.” “No, I couldn’t, I couldn't, I got to be a goin'. Wall, good-day to you.” “Amy Drew,” Mrs. Hepsey ex claimed when the door had closed up on him, "why didn’t you stop me? Hannibal Archibald jest said that about Henry Macintosh to And out where I bought my turkey. I wish Id held my tongue. It’ll be all over towi you see If it ain't.” "Oh I guess not,” Amy returned; and here there fell upon tho ears of both a mu filed sound from the kitchen as of "getting dishes about' and the plying of a knife and fork. “The massy! Amy Drew,” Mrs. Hepsey ejaculated, "you don't think Ednah Jane's a feeding of him up on any o’ them mince pies do you? if I thought she was I’d —but no, I don't know that I would nuther. Amy Drew, Ednah Jatio’s made It her home with me now goin' on to 15 years, and why shouldn't she if she wants to?" And here the swelling tide of her own gen erosity seemed almost to alarm herself as she added, “I don't begrudge it to Hannibal nuther. Sarah Allen don't make no such pics as Ednah Jane, and Betsey's boys can't eat the hull on ’em, and it wouldn’t do ’em eny good if they could. Besides, Hannibal's nothin’ but a poor wayfarin' man of grief that every woman'll oughter be a Christian to 'Tain't more'n a ye*r come next December, since Hannah left him a widder man. and 1 s’pv he's sort o’ lonesome without—” “Pears and mince pies," Amy in terrupted laughing, and she added, “You don’t suppose, do you, that he means to cure his wayfarlugness for better and worse, as some people say?” “Lord' Amy Drew,” said Mrs. Hep sey with startled emphasis, “don't you go to running away with any such crazy notion as that. Hannibal Archibald Is agoin to marry Sarah Allen. I thought everybody knew. Mas sy sakes! you take my breath away. Ednalt Jano is a goin’ to stay put, just about where she is, till I’m under ground. Why, what do you suppose 'ud become of this furniter If Ednah Jane was to leave? Betsey’s agin me | now, but she'll thank mo when she 1 gets it hull, and it may he then her i hoys'll be old enough to know the val jly on't. No, Hannilml Archibald ain't j agoin’ to marry Ednah Jane." i Betsey's cottage was two miles out of Arny’B way. and it was fully time to get supper when her call was over, but Amy had good reason to know that Betsey was aware neither of Mr. Archibald’s matrimonial Intentions nor—"along o' ma's being close mouthed with her"—of Mrs. Hepsey’s motives about the "furniter,” so, it* the words of a wholly dependent though able-bodied famil.v-in-law, she “had to go hurrying round, all tired out, supperless, and leaving things to htun to take rare of themselves, Just to he first with news that would have kept till some less Inconvenient time.” But Amy’s eyes, when at last she did get home, were very bright. The thought was shining through them that Betsey had something new for Thanksgiving better than turkey, rnlnee pies; or even minced life nnd liberty, as served in the delicious po litieal pap of the present "Thanks gvlng proclamation.”—Ellen M. Wright In Springfield Republican. Che first Chanksqioina. Our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four men on fowling, so that we might, after a special man ner, rejoice together after we had gathered the fruit of our labors. They four in one day killed as much fowl as, with a little help beside, served the company almost a week. At which time, amongst other recrea tions, we exercised our arms, many of the Indians coming amongst us, and among the rest their greatest king, Massasoyt, with some ninety men, whom for three days we enter tained and feasted, and they (the In diansi went cut and killed five deer, which they brought to the plantation, and bestowed on our governor and upon tho captain, Myles Standish. and others. And, although it be not always so plentiful as it was at this time with us. yet by the goodness of God we are so far from want that we often wish you partakers of our plenty—By Edward Winslow, the his torian of the Plymouth Colony. The first national Thanksgiving day was, by proclamation of President Washington, set for Thursday. November 2G, 17S!>, says an historian of tho great American holiday. The second was set for Thursday, Feb ruary Id. 1795. The honor of tho first suggestion seems to belong to Rep resentative Elias Boudinot, who moved, In the house, that the presi dent be requestcj to recommend "a day of thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by the people of tho United States.” There was some opposition to the motion, the objections ad vanced being that such a thing might tend to Imitation of the frivolities and pomps of kingdoms and other harmful doing; but the motion prevailed, and Thursday! November 27, 1789, became the first national Thanksgiving day of tho American people. CHILD ACTS AS ATTORNEY. Boy Four Years Old Pleads a Case for His Mother. "Your Honor, 1 want this ease tried nt once." Justice Underwood raised ills eyes from tho open law book in front of him and looked about the Thirty fifth street courtroom. He saw nobody in an inquisitorial attitude, and, deeply puzzled, opened the door behind him, expecting to find tho spokesman in the hall. “I’m right here In front of you,” the unseen person resumed, "and I want this man punished.” The mystery of the voice was now clear to the court. He bent over tho bar at the sound of the childlike notes and there descried a lad scarcely more than three feet tall. Tho young ster had struck an attitude of dignity that would have done credit to % lawyer with a license. “What can Ido for you, my little man?" Inquired Justice Underwood. “My mamma was bitten by Joo Powers' big dog. and I want him punished and tho old cur shot,” In slsted the youthful pleader. Then Walter Walsh, 4 years old, who lives at 1519 Thirty-fourth place, told how his mother, Mrs. Henry Walsh, was attacked and severely bitten by the saloonkeeper’s pot. “Well, you're the smallest lawyer I ever laid my ej-o on," said the Justice. "You Just, sit up here so that I can get a gooi.' look at you.” Alderman Li zlnger appeared as Powers' counsel, but the weight of his legal knowledge did not counter balance the child'll inborn tact and shrewdness. Thomas J. Benson, the regularly deputized city prosecutor, was on hand to arraign Powers, but his services were not needed. “I guess that Attorney Walter Walsh can swing this case alone,” said tho court. "Yon can go out, Tom, and take a walk around the block.” Mrs. Walsh was railed, and under Walter’s deft questioning made out a clear case against Powers. She told how the saloonkeeper had been re peatedly warned of his dog's savage disposition and how on several oc casions she was threatened with at tack. When she was actually bitten the animal came upon her so uncx pectedly. she declared, that she had no opportunity to escape. "Did that dog give you a chance to got away?” Inquired Walter as the examiner. “Oh, no; he came for me liko a wild animal and stuck his fangs Into me before I hail time to think about getting away.” “Ma, the next time you meet a dog like that you ought to have bullet proof socks on,” Walter remarked, and tho courtroom was convulsed with laughter. The precocious Hlackstcno an nouncod that ho would like to bo sworn himself, as he wished to cor roborato the story of his mother. ‘‘l don't believe that the young man estimates the value of an oath,” re marked Mr. Utxlngor. "Well, let’s sec,” observed the Judge. "Walter, what’s likely to hap pen to a boy Or a girl If he or she swears falsely?" "Well, If It’s a boy he'll go to hell," was the reply; "If |fs a girl she goes to purgatory.” “I guess that will do all right.” Walter was permitted to relate hla story, and when he concluded Justice Underwood entered up a fine of $6 against the defendant and order® 1 that the dog be shot. —Chicago Kx change. Had a Reason For It "isn't this a rather an unusual time of the year to take your annual vaca tlonT” "Possibly; but, you see, our’s Is a big establishment, and In the summer there are always half a doxen or more away at the same time, while now I am the only one ” "What, of It?” "What of It! Why, that leaves more of them to be envious of dm, doesn’t It?—Chicago Post.