An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving by Louisa May AlcottAn Old Fashioned Thanksgiving (1832-1888)From An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving and OtherStoriesby Louisa May Alcott, Penguin Books, 1995. November, 1881SIXTY YEARS AGO, up among the New Hampshire hills, livedFarmer Bassett, with a houseful of sturdy sons anddaughters growing up about him. They were poor inmoney, but rich in land and love, for the wide acres ofwood, corn, and pasture land fed, warmed, and clothedthe flock, while mutual patience, affection, and couragemade the old farmhouse a very happy home.November had come; the crops were in, and barn, buttery, and bin were overflowing with the harvest that rewarded the summer's hard work. The big kitchen was ajolly place just now, for in the great fireplace roared acheerful fire; on the walls hung garlands of dried apples,onions, and corn; up aloft from the beams shone crook-necked squashes, juicy hams, and dried venison--for inthose days deer still haunted the deep forests, and huntersflourished. Savory smells were in the air; on the cranehung steaming kettles, and down among the red emberscopper saucepans simmered, all suggestive of some approaching feast. A white-headed baby lay in the old blue cradle that hadrocked six other babies, now and then lifting his head tolook out, like a round, full moon, then subsided to kickand crow contentedly, and suck the rosy apple he had noteeth to bite. Two small boys sat on the wooden settleshelling corn for popping, and picking out the biggestnuts from the goodly store their own hands had gatheredin October. Four young girls stood at the long dresser,busily chopping meat, pounding spice, and slicing apples;and the tongues of Tilly, Prue, Roxy, and Rhody went asfast as their hands. Farmer Bassett, and Eph, the oldestboy, were "chorin' 'round" outside, for Thanksgiving wasat hand, and all must be in order for that time-honoredday.To and fro, from table to hearth, bustled buxom Mrs.Bassett, flushed and floury, but busy and blithe as thequeen bee of this busy little hive should be."I do like to begin seasonable and have things to mymind. Thanksgivin' dinners can't be drove, and it doestake a sight of victuals to fill all these hungry stomicks,"said the good woman, as she gave a vigorous stir to thegreat kettle of cider applesauce, and cast a glance ofhousewifely pride at the fine array of pies set forth on thebuttery shelves."Only one more day and then it will be the time to eat.I didn't take but one bowl of hasty pudding this morning,so I shall have plenty of room when the nice thingscome," confided Seth to Sol, as he cracked a large hazelnut as easily as a squirrel."No need of my starvin' beforehand. I always haveroom enough, and I'd like to have Thanksgiving everyday," answered Solomon, gloating like a young ogre overthe little pig that lay near by, ready for roasting."Sakes alive, I don't, boys! It's a marcy it don't comebut once a year. I should be worn to a thread paper withall this extra work atop of my winter weavin' andspinnin'," laughed their mother, as she plunged herplump arms into the long bread trough and began toknead the dough as if a famine were at hand.Tilly, the oldest girl, a red-cheeked, black-eyed lass offourteen, was grinding briskly at the mortar, for spiceswere costly, and not a grain must be wasted. Prue kepttime with the chopper, and the twins sliced away at theapples till their little brown arms ached, for all knew howto work, and did so now with a will."I think it's real fun to have Thanksgiving at home. I'msorry Gran'ma is sick, so we can't go there as usual, butI like to mess 'round here, don't you, girls?" asked Tilly,pausing to take a sniff at the spicy pestle."It will be kind of lonesome with only our own folks.""I like to see all the cousins and aunts, and have games,and sing," cried the twins, who were regular little romps,and could run, swim, coast, and shout as well as theirbrothers."I don't care a mite for all that. It will be so nice to eatdinner together, warm and comfortable at home," saidquiet Prue, who loved her own cozy nooks like a cat."Come, girls, fly 'round and get your chores done, sowe can clear away for dinner jest as soon as I clap mybread into the oven," called Mrs. Bassett presently, as sherounded off the last loaf of brown bread which was tofeed the hungry mouths that seldom tasted any other."Here's a man comin' up the hill lively!" "Guess it'sGad Hopkins. Pa told him to bring a dezzen oranges, ifthey warn't too high!" shouted Sol and Seth, running tothe door, while the girls smacked their lips at the thoughtof this rare treat, and Baby threw his apple overboard, asif getting ready for a new cargo.But all were doomed to disappointment, for it was notGad, with the much-desired fruit. It was a stranger, whothrew himself off his horse and hurried up to Mr. Bassettin the yard, with some brief message that made thefarmer drop his ax and look so sober that his wife guessedat once some bad news had come; and crying, "Mother'swuss! I know she is!" Out ran the good woman, forgetfulof the flour on her arms and the oven waiting for its mostimportant batch.The man said old Mr. Chadwick, down to Keene,stopped him as he passed, and told him to tell Mrs.Bassett her mother was failin' fast, and she'd better cometoday. He knew no more, and having delivered his errandhe rode away, saying it looked like snow and he must bejogging, or he wouldn't get home till night."We must go right off, Eldad. Hitch up, and I'll beready in less'n no time," said Mrs. Bassett, wasting not aminute in tears and lamentations, but pulling off herapron as she went in, with her head in a sad jumble ofbread, anxiety, turkey, sorrow, haste, and cider applesauce.A few words told the story, and the children left theirwork to help her get ready, mingling their grief for"Gran'ma" with regrets for the lost dinner."I'm dreadful sorry, dears, but it can't be helped. Icouldn't cook nor eat no way now, and if that blessedwoman gets better sudden, as she has before, we'll havecause for thanksgivin', and I'll give you a dinner youwon't forget in a hurry," said Mrs. Bassett, as she tied onher brown silk pumpkin-hood, with a sob for the good oldmother who had made it for her.Not a child complained after that, but ran about helpfully, bringing moccasins, heating the footstone, and getting ready for a long drive, because Gran'ma lived twentymiles away, and there were no railroads in those partsto whisk people to and fro like magic. By the time theold yellow sleigh was at the door, the bread was in theoven, and Mrs. Bassett was waiting, with her camlet cloakon, and the baby done up like a small bale of blankets."Now, Eph, you must look after the cattle like a manand keep up the fires, for there's a storm brewin', and'neither the children nor dumb critters must suffer," saidMr. Bassett, as he turned up the collar of his rough coatand put on his blue mittens, while the old mare shook herbells as if she preferred a trip to Keene to hauling wood all day."Tilly, put extry comfortables on the beds to-night, thewind is so searchin' up chamber. Have the baked beansand Injun-puddin' for dinner, and whatever you do, don'tlet the boys get at the mince-pies, or you'll have themdown sick. I shall come back the minute I can leaveMother. Pa will come to-morrer anyway, so keep snug andbe good. I depend on you, my darter; use your jedgment,and don't let nothin' happen while Mother's away.""Yes'm, yes'm--good-bye, good-bye!" called the children, as Mrs. Bassett was packed into the sleigh anddriven away, leaving a stream of directions behind her.Eph, the sixteen-year-old boy, immediately put on hisbiggest boots, assumed a sober, responsible manner andsurveyed his little responsibilities with a paternal air,drolly like his father's. Tilly tied on her mother's bunchof keys, rolled up the sleeves of her homespun gown, andbegan to order about the younger girls. They soon forgotpoor Granny, and found it great fun to keep house allalone, for Mother seldom left home, but ruled her familyin the good old-fashioned way. There were no servants,for the little daughters were Mrs. Bassett's only maids,and the stout boys helped their father, all working happilytogether with no wages but love; learning in the bestmanner the use of the heads and hands with which theywere to make their own way in the world.The few flakes that caused the farmer to predict badweather soon increased to a regular snowstorm, with gustsof wind, for up among the hills winter came early and lingered long. But the children were busy, gay, and warm indoors, and never minded the rising gale nor the whirlingwhite storm outside.Tilly got them a good dinner, and when it was over thetwo elder girls went to their spinning, for in the kitchenstood the big and little wheels, and baskets of wool rollsready to be twisted into yarn for the winter's knitting, andeach day brought its stint of work to the daughters, whohoped to be as thrifty as their mother.Eph Kept up a glorious fire, and superintended thesmall boys, who popped corn and whittled boats on thehearth; while Roxy and Rhody dressed corncob dolls inthe settle corner, and Bose, the brindled mastiff, lay onthe braided mat, luxuriously warming his old legs. Thusemployed, they made a pretty picture, these rosy boys andgirls, in their homespun suits, with the rustic toys or taskswhich most children nowadays would find very poor ortiresome.Tilly and Prue sang, as they stepped to and fro, drawing out the smoothly twisted threads to the musical humof the great spinning wheels. The little girls chattered likemagpies over their dolls and the new bedspread they wereplanning to make, all white dimity stars on a blue calicoground, as a Christmas present to Ma. The boys roared atEph's jokes, and had rough and tumble games over Bose,who didn't mind them in the least; and so the afternoonwore pleasantly away.At sunset the boys went out to feed the cattle, bring inheaps of wood, and lock up for the night, as the lonelyfarmhouse seldom had visitors after dark. The girls gotthe simple supper of brown bread and milk, baked apples,and a doughnut all 'round as a treat. Then they sat beforethe fire, the sisters knitting, the brothers with books orgames, for Eph loved reading, and Sol and Seth neverfailed to play a few games of Morris with barley corns, onthe little board they had themselves at one corner of thedresser."Read out a piece," said Tilly from Mother's chair,where she sat in state, finishing off the sixth woolen sockshe had knit that month."It's the old history book, but here's a bit you may like,since it's about our folks," answered Eph, turning the yellow page to look at a picture of two quaintly dressed children in some ancient castle."Yes, read that. I always like to hear about the LadyMatildy I was named for, and Lord Bassett, Pa's great-great-great grandpa. He's only a farmer now, but it's niceto know we were somebody two or three hundred yearsago," said Tilly, bridling and tossing her curly head as shefancied the Lady Matilda might have done."Don't read the queer words, 'cause we don't understand 'em. Tell it," commanded Roxy, from the cradle,where she was drowsily cuddled with Rhody."Well, a long time ago, when Charles the First was inprison, Lord Bassett was a true friend to him," beganEph, plunging into his story without delay. "The lord hadsome papers that would have hung a lot of people if theking's enemies got hold of 'em, so when he heard one day,all of a sudden, that soldiers were at the castle gate tocarry him off, he had just time to call his girl to him andsay: 'I may be going to my death, but I won't betray mymaster. There is no time to burn the papers, and I can nottake them with me; they are hidden in the old leathernchair where I sit. No one knows this but you, and youmust guard them till I come or send you a safe messengerto take them away. Promise me to be brave and silent, andI can go without fear.' You see, he wasn't afraid to die, buthe was to seem a traitor. Lady Matildy promised solemnly,and the words were hardly out of her mouth when themen came in, and her father was carried away a prisonerand sent off to the Tower.""But she didn't cry; she just called her brother, and satdown in that chair, with her head leaning back on thosepapers, like a queen, and waited while the soldiers huntedthe house over for 'em: wasn't that a smart girl?" criedTilly, beaming with pride, for she was named for this ancestress, and knew the story by heart."I reckon she was scared, though, when the men cameswearin in and asked her if she knew anything about it.The boy did his part then, for he didn't know, and firedup and stood before his sister; and he says, says he, asbold as a lion: 'If my lord had told us where the papersbe, we would die before we would betray him. But we arechildren and know nothing, and it is cowardly of you totry to fight us with oaths and drawn swords!'"As Eph quoted from the book, Seth planted himself before Tilly, with the long poker in his hand, saying, as heflourished it valiantly:"Why didn't the boy take his father's sword and layabout him? I would, if any one was ha'sh to Tilly.""You bantam! He was only a bit of a boy, and couldn'tdo anything. Sit down and hear the rest of it," commanded Tilly, with a pat on the yellow head, and a private resolve that Seth should have the largest piece of pieat dinner next day, as reward for his chivalry."Well, the men went off after turning the castle out ofwindow, but they said they should come again; so faithfulMatildy was full of trouble, and hardly dared to leave theroom where the chair stood. All day she sat there, and atnight her sleep was so full of fear about it, that she oftengot up and went to see that all was safe. The servantsthought the fright had hurt her wits, and let her be, butRupert, the boy, stood by her and never was afraid of herqueer ways. She was 'a pious maid,' the book says, and often spent the long evenings reading the Bible, with herbrother by her, all alone in the great room, with no oneto help her bear her secret, and no good news of her father. At last, word came that the king was dead and hisfriends banished out of England. Then the poor childrenwere in a sad plight, for they had no mother, and the servants all ran away, leaving only one faithful old man tohelp them.""But the father did come?" cried Roxy, eagerly."You'll see," continued Eph, half telling, half reading."Matilda was sure he would, so she sat on in the bigchair, guarding the papers, and no one could get her away,till one day a man came with her father's ring and toldher to give up the secret. She knew the ring, but wouldnot tell until she had asked many questions, so as to bevery sure, and while the man answered all about her father and the king, she looked at him sharply. Then shestood up and said, in a tremble, for there was somethingstrange about the man: 'Sir, I doubt you in spite of thering, and I will not answer till you pull off the false beardyou wear, that I may see your face and know if you are myfather's friend or foe.' Off came the disguise, and Matildafound it was my lord himself, come to take them with himout of England. He was very proud of that faithful girl, Iguess, for the old chair still stands in the castle, and the Iname keeps in the family, Pa says, even over here, wheresome of the Bassetts came along with the Pilgrims.""Our Tilly would have been as brave, I know, and shelooks like the old picter down to Gran' ma's, don't she,Eph?" cried Prue, who admired her bold, bright sistervery much."Well, I think you'd do the settin' part best, Prue, youare so patient. Till would fight like a wild cat, but shecan't hold her tongue worth a cent" answered Eph;whereat Tilly pulled his hair, and the story ended with ageneral frolic.When the moon-faced clock behind the door strucknine, Tilly tucked up the children under the "extry cornfortables," and having kissed them all around, as Motherdid, crept into her own nest, never minding the littledrifts of snow that sifted in upon her coverlet between theshingles of the roof, nor the storm that raged without.As if he felt the need of unusual vigilance, old Bose laydown on the mat before the door, and pussy had thewarm hearth all to herself. If any late wanderer hadlooked in at midnight, he would have seen the fire blazingup again, and in the cheefful glow the old cat blinking heryellow eyes, as she sat bolt upright beside the spinningwheel, like some sort of household goblin, guarding thechildren while they slept.When they woke, like early birds, it still snowed, butup the little Bassetts jumped, broke the ice in their jugs,and went down with cheeks glowing like winter apples, after a brisk scrub and scramble into their clothes. Eph wasoff to the barn, and Tilly soon had a great kettle of mushready, which, with milk warm from the cows made awholesome breakfast for the seven hearty children."Now about dinner," said the young housekeeper, asthe pewter spoons stopped clattering, and the earthenbowls stood empty."Ma said, have what we liked, but she didn't expect usto have a real Thanksgiving dinner, because she won't behere to cook it, and we don't know how," began Prue,doubtfully."I can roast a turkey and make a pudding as well asanybody, I guess. The pies are all ready, and if we can'tboil vegetables and so on, we don't deserve any dinner,"cried Tilly, burning to distinguish herself, and bound toenjoy to the utmost her brief authority. "Yes, yes!" cried all the boys, "let's have a dinner anyway; Ma won't care, and the good victuals will spoil ifthey ain't eaten right up.""Pa is coming tonight, so we won't have dinner till late;that will be real genteel and give us plenty of time,"added Tilly, suddenly realizing the novelty of the task shehad undertaken."Did you ever roast a turkey?" asked Roxy, with an airof deep interest."Should you darst to try?" said Rhody, in an awe-stricken tone."You will see what I can do. Ma said I was to use myjudgment about things, and I'm going to. All you childrenhave got to do is to keep out of the way, and let Prue andme work. Eph, I wish you'd put a fire in the best room,so the little ones can play in there. We shall want thesettin-room for the table, and I won t have them pickin'round when we get things fixed," commanded Tilly,bound to make her short reign a brilliant one."I don't know about that. Ma didn't tell us to," begancautious Eph who felt that this invasion of the sacred bestparlor was a daring step."Don't we always do it Sundays and Thanksgivings?Wouldn't Ma wish the children kept safe and warm anyhow? Can I get up a nice dinner with four rascals undermy feet all the time? Come, now, if you want roast turkeyand onions, plum-puddin' and mince-pie, you'll have todo as I tell you, and be lively about it."Tilly spoke with such spirit, and her suggestion was soirresistible, that Eph gave in, and, laughing good-naturedly, tramped away to heat up the best room, devoutly hoping that nothing serious would happen topunish such audacity.The young folks delightedly trooped away to destroythe order of that prim apartment with housekeepingunder the black horsehair sofa, "horseback-riders" on thearms of the best rocking chair, and an Indian war danceall over the well-waxed furniture. Eph, finding the societyof peaceful sheep and cows more to his mind than that oftwo excited sisters, lingered over his chores in the barn aslong as possible, and left the girls in peace.Now Tillyand Prue were in their glory, and as soon asthe breakfast things were out of the way, they preparedfor a grand cooking time. They were handy girls, thoughthey had never heard of a cooking school, never toucheda piano, and knew nothing of embroidery beyond the samplers which hung framed in the parlor; one ornamentedwith a pink mourner under a blue weeping willow, theother with this pleasing verse, each word being done in adifferent color, which gave the effect of a distracted rainbow:This sampler neat was worked by me,In my twelfth year, Prudence B.Both rolled up their sleeves, put on their largest aprons,and got out all the spoons, dishes, pots, and pans theycould find, "so as to have everything handy," Prue said."Now, sister, we'll have dinner at five; Pa will be hereby that time, if he is coming tonight, and be so surprisedto find us all ready, for he won't have had any very nicevictuals if Gran'ma is so sick," said Tilly, importantly. "Ishall give the children a piece at noon" (Tilly meantluncheon); "doughnuts and cheese, with apple pie and cider, will please 'em. There's beans for Eph; he likes coldpork, so we won't stop to warm it up, for there's lots todo, and I don't mind saying to you I'm dreadful dubersome about the turkey.""It's all ready but the stuffing, and roasting is as easyas can be. I can baste first-rate. Ma always likes to haveme, I'm so patient and stiddy, she says," answered Prue,for the responsibility of this great undertaking did notrest upon her, so she took a cheerful view of things."I know, but it's the stuffin' that troubles me," saidTilly, rubbing her round elbows as she eyed the immensefowl laid out on a platter before her. "I don't know howmuch I want, nor what sort of yarbs to put in, and he'sso awful big, I'm kind of afraid of him.""I ain't! I fed him all summer, and he never gobbled atme. I feel real mean to be thinking of gobbling him, poorold chap," laughed Prue, patting her departed pet with anair of mingled affection and appetite."Well, I'll get the puddin' off my mind fust, for itought to bile all day. Put the big kettle on, and see thatthe spit is clean, while I get ready."Prue obediently tugged away at the crane, with its blackhooks, from which hung the iron teakettle and three-legged pot; then she settled the long spit in the groovesmade for it in the tall andirons, and put the dripping panunderneath, for in those days meat was roasted as itshould be, not baked in ovens.Meantime, Tilly attacked the plum pudding. She feltpretty sure of coming out right, here, for she had seen hermother do it so many times, it looked very easy. So inwent suet and fruit; all sorts of spice, to be sure she gotthe right ones, and brandy instead of wine. But she forgotboth sugar and salt, and tied it in the cloth so tightly thatit had no room to swell, so it would come out as heavy aslead and as hard as a cannonball, if the bag did not burstand spoil it all. Happily unconscious of these mistakes,Tilly popped it into the pot, and proudly watched it bobbing about before she put the cover on and left it to itsfate."I can't remember what flavorin' Ma puts in," she said,when she had got her bread well soaked for stuffing."Sage and onions and applesauce go with goose, but Ican't feel sure of anything but pepper and salt for a turkey.""Ma puts in some kind of mint, I know, but I forgetwhether it is spearmint, peppermint, or pennyroyal," answered Prue, in a tone of doubt, but trying to show herknowledge of "yarbs," or, at least, of their names."Seems to me it's sweet majoram or summer savory. Iguess we'll put both in, and then we are sure to be right.The best is up garret; you run and get some, while I mashthe bread," commanded Tilly, diving into the mess.Away trotted Prue, but in her haste she got catnip andwormwood, for the garret was darkish, and Prue's littlenose was so full of the smell of the onions she had beenpeeling, that everything smelt of them. Eager to be of use,she pounded up the herbs and scattered the mixture witha liberal hand into the bowl."It doesn't smell just right, but I suppose it will whenit is cooked," said Tilly, as she filled the empty stomach,that seemed aching for food, and sewed it up with theblue yarn, which happened to be handy. She forgot to tiedown his legs and wings, but she set him by till his hourcame, well satisfied with her work."Shall we roast the little pig, too? I think he'd look nicewith a necklace of sausages, as Ma fixed him at Christmas," asked Prue, elated with their success."I couldn't do it. I loved that little pig, and cried whenhe was killed. I should feel as if I was roasting the baby,"answered Tilly, glancing toward the buttery where piggyhung, looking so pink and pretty it certainly did seemcruel to eat him.It took a long time to get all the vegetables ready, for,as the cellar was full, the girls thought they would haveevery sort. Eph helped, and by noon all was ready forcooking, and the cranberry sauce, a good deal scorched,was cooking in the lean-to.Luncheon was a lively meal, and doughnuts and cheesevanished in such quantities that Tilly feared no one wouldhave an appetite for her sumptuous dinner. The boys assured her they would be starving by five o'clock, and Solmourned bitterly over the little pig that was not to beserved up."Now you ll go and coast, while Prue and I set the table and get out the best chiny," said Tilly, bent on havingher dinner look well, no matter what its other failingsmight be.Out came the rough sleds, on went the round hoods,old hats, red cloaks, and moccasins, and away trudged thefour younger Bassetts, to disport themselves in the snow,and try the ice down by the old mill, where the greatwheel turned and splashed so merrily in the summertime.Eph took his fiddle and scraped away to his heart'scontent in the parlor, while the girls, after a short rest, setthe table and made all ready to dish up the dinner whenthat exciting moment came. It was not at all the sort oftable we see now, but would look very plain and countrified to us, with its green-handled knives, and two-pronged steel forks, its red-and-white china, and pewterplatters, scoured till they shone, with mugs and spoons tomatch, and a brown jug for the cider. The cloth wascoarse, but white as snow, and the little maids had seenthe blue-eyed flax grow, out of which their mother wovethe linen; they had watched and watched while itbleached in the green meadow. They had no napkins andlittle silver; but the best tankard and Ma's few weddingspoons were set forth in state. Nuts and apples at the corners gave an air, and the place of honor was left in themiddle for the oranges yet to come."Don't it look beautiful?" said Prue, when they pausedto admire the general effect."Pretty nice, I think. I wish Ma could see how well wecan do it," began Tilly, when a loud howling startled bothgirls, and sent them flying to the window. The short afternoon had passed so quickly that twilight had come before they knew it, and now, as they looked out throughthe gathering dusk, they saw four small black figures tearing up the road, to come bursting in, all screaming atonce: "The bear, the bear! Eph, get the gun! He's coming,he's coming!"Eph had dropped his fiddle, and got down his gun before the girls could calm the children enough to tell theirstory, which they did in a somewhat incoherent manner."Down in the holler, coastin', we heard a growl," beganSol, with his eyes as big as saucers. "I see him fust lookin' over the wall," roared Seth, eager to get his share ofhonor."Awful big and shaggy," quavered Roxy, clinging toTilly, while Rhody hid in Prue's skirts, and piped out:"His great paws kept clawing at us, and I was so scaredmy legs would hardly go.""We ran away as fast as we could go, and he camegrowlin' after us. He's awful hungry, and he'll eat everyone of us if he gets in," continued Sol, looking about himfor a safe retreat."Oh, Eph, don't let him eat us," cried both little girls,flying upstairs to hide under their mother's bed, as theirsurest shelter."No danger of that, you little geese. I'll shoot him assoon as he comes. Get out of the way, boys," and Ephraised the window to get good aim."There he is! Fire away, and don't miss!" cried Seth,hastily following Sol, who had climbed to the top of thedresser as a good perch from which to view the approaching fray.Prue retired to the hearth as if bent on dying at herpost rather than desert the turkey, now "browning beautiful," as she expressed it. But Tilly boldly stood at theopen window, ready to lend a hand if the enemy provedtoo much for Eph.All had seen bears, but none had ever come so near before, and even brave Eph felt that the big brown beastslowly trotting up the dooryard was an unusually formidable specimen. He was growling horribly, and stopped nowand then as if to rest and shake himself."Get the ax, Tilly, and if I should miss, stand ready tokeep him off while I load again," said Eph, anxious to killhis first bear in style and alone; a girl's help didn't count.Tilly flew for the ax, and was at her brother's side bythe time the bear was near enough to be dangerous. Hestood on his hind legs, and seemed to sniff with relish thesavory odors that poured out of the window."Fire, Eph!" cried Tilly, firmly."Wait till he rears again. I'll get a better shot then" answered the boy, while Prue covered her ears to shut outthe bang, and the small boys cheered from their dusty refuge among the pumpkins.But a very singular thing happened next, and all whosaw it stood amazed, for suddenly Tilly threw down theax, flung open the door, and ran straight into the arms ofthe bear, who stood erect to receive her, while his growlings changed to a loud "Haw, haw!" that startled the children more than the report of a gun."It's Gad Hopkins, tryin' to fool us!" cried Eph, muchdisgusted at the loss of his prey, for these hardy boysloved to hunt and prided themselves on the number ofwild animals and birds they could shoot in a year."Oh, Gad, how could you scare us so?" laughed Tilly,still held fast in one shaggy arm of the bear, while theother drew a dozen oranges from some deep pocket in thebuffalo-skin coat, and fired them into the kitchen withsuch good aim that Eph ducked, Prue screamed, and Soland Seth came down much quicker than they went up."Wal, you see I got upsot over yonder, and the oldhorse went home while I was floundering in a drift, so Itied on the buffalers to tote 'em easy, and come along tillI see the children playin' in the holler. I jest meant to give'em a little scare, but they run like partridges, and I kep'up the joke to see how Eph would like this sort of company," and Gad haw-hawed again."You'd have had a warm welcome if we hadn't foundyou out. I'd have put a bullet through you in a jiffy, oldchap," said Eph, coming out to shake hands with theyoung giant, who was only a year or two older than himself."Come in and set up to dinner with us. Prue and I havedone it all ourselves, and Pa will be along soon, I reckon,"cried Tilly, trying to escape."Couldn't, no ways. My folks will think I'm dead ef Idon't get along home, sence the horse and sleigh havegone ahead empty I've done my arrant and had my joke;now I want my pay, Tilly," and Gad took a hearty kissfrom the rosy cheeks of his "little sweetheart," as hecalled her. His own cheeks tingled with the smart slap shegave him as she ran away, calling out that she hated bearsand would bring her ax next time."I ain't afeared--your sharp eyes found me out: and efyou run into a bear's arms you must expect a hug," answered Gad, as he pushed back the robe and settled hisfur cap more becomingly."I should have known you in a minute if I hadn't beenasleep when the girls squalled. You did it well, though,and I advise you not to try it again in a hurry, or you'llget shot," said Eph, as they parted, he rather crestfallenand Gad in high glee."My sakes alive--the turkey is all burnt one side, andthe kettles have biled over so the pies I put to warm areall ashes!" scolded Tilly, as the flurry subsided and sheremembered her dinner."Well, I can't help it. I couldn't think of victuals whenI expected to be eaten alive myself, could I?" pleaded poorPrue, who had tumbled into the cradle when the rain oforanges began.Tilly laughed, and all the rest joined in, so goodhumorwas restored, and the spirits of the younger ones were revived by sucks from the one orange which passed fromhand to hand with great rapidity while the older girlsdished up the dinner. They were just struggling to get thepudding out of the cloth when Roxy called out: "Here'sPa!""There's folkswith him," added Rhody."Lots of 'em! I see two big sleighs chock full," shoutedSeth, peering through the dusk."It looks like a semintary. Guess Gran'ma's dead andcome up to be buried here," said Sol, in a solemn tone.This startling suggestion made Tilly, Prue, and Eph hasten to look out, full of dismay at such an ending of theirfestival."If that is a funeral, the mourners are uncommonlyjolly," said Eph, dryly, as merry voices and loud laughterbroke the white silence without."I see Aunt Cinthy, and Cousin Hetty--and there'sMose and Amos. I do declare, Pa's bringin' 'em all hometo have some fun here," cried Prue, as she recognized onefamiliar face after another."Oh, my patience! Ain't I glad I got dinner, and don'tI hope it will turn out good!" exclaimed Tilly, while thetwins pranced with delight, and the small boys roared:"Hooray for Pa! Hooray for Thanksgivin'!"The cheer was answered heartily, and in came Father,Mother, Baby, aunts, and cousins, all in great spirits; andall much surprised to find such a festive welcome awaitingthem."Ain't Gran'ma dead at all?" asked Sol, in the midst ofthe kissing and handshaking."Bless your heart, no! It was all a mistake of old Mr.Chadwick's. He's as deaf as an adder, and when Mrs.Brooks told him Mother was mendin' fast, and shewanted me to come down today, certain sure, he got themessage all wrong, and give it to the fust person passin'in such a way as to scare me 'most to death, and send usdown in a hurry. Mother was sittin' up as chirk as youplease, and dreadful sorry you didn't all come.""So, to keep the house quiet for her, and give you ataste of the fun, your Pa fetched us all up to spend theevenin', and we are goin' to have a jolly time on't, to jedgeby the looks of things," said Aunt Cinthy, briskly finishingthe tale when Mrs. Bassett paused for want of breath."What in the world put it into your head we wascomm', and set you to gittin' up such a supper?" askedMr. Bassett, looking about him, well pleased and muchsurprised at the plentiful table.Tilly modestly began to tell, but the others broke inand sang her praises in a sort of chorus, in which bears,pigs, pies, and oranges were oddly mixed. Great satisfaction was expressed by all, and Tilly and Prue were soelated by the commendation of Ma and the aunts, thatthey set forth their dinner, sure everything was perfect.But when the eating began, which it did the momentwraps were off; then their pride got a fall; for the firstperson who tasted the stuffing (it was big Cousin Mose,and that made it harder to bear) nearly choked over thebitter morsel."Tilly Bassett, whatever made you put wormwood andcatnip in your stuffin'?" demanded Ma, trying not to besevere, for all the rest were laughing, and Tilly lookedready to cry."I did it," said Prue, nobly taking all the blame, whichcaused Pa to kiss her on the spot, and declare that itdidn't do a mite of harm, for the turkey was all right."I never see onions cooked better. All the vegetables iswell done, and the dinner a credit to you, my dears," declared Aunt Cinthy, with her mouth full of the fragrantvegetable she praised.The pudding was an utter failure in spite of the blazingbrandy in which it lay--as hard and heavy as one of thestone balls on Squire Dunkin's great gate. It was speedilywhisked out of sight, and all fell upon the pies, whichwere perfect. But Tilly and Prue were much depressed,and didn't recover their spirits till dinner was over andthe evening fun well under way."Blind-man's bluff," "Hunt the slipper," "Come, Philander," and other lively games soon set everyone bubbling over with jollity, and when Eph struck up "MoneyMusk" on his fiddle, old and young fell into their placesfor a dance. All down the long kitchen they stood, Mr.and Mrs. Bassett at the top, the twins at the bottom, andthen away they went, heeling and toeing, cutting pigeon-wings, and taking their steps in a way that would convulsemodern children with their new-fangled romps calleddancing. Mose and Tilly covered themselves with glory bythe vigor with which they kept it up, till fat Aunt Cinthyfell into a chair, breathlessly declaring that a very little ofsuch exercise was enough for a woman of her "heft."Apples and cider, chat and singing, finished the evening, and after a grand kissing all round, the guests droveaway in the clear moonlight which came out to cheer theirlong drive.When the jingle of the last bell had died away, Mr. Bassett said soberly, as they stood together on the hearth:"Children, we have special cause to be thankful that thesorrow we expected was changed into joy, so we'll read achapter 'fore we go to bed, and give thanks where thanksis due."Then Tilly set out the light stand with the big Bible onit, and a candle on each side, and all sat quietly in thefirelight, smiling as they listened with happy hearts to thesweet old words that fit all times and seasons so beautifully.When the good-nights were over, and the children inbed, Prue put her arm round Tilly and whispered tenderly, for she felt her shake, and was sure she was crying:"Don't mind about the old stuffin' and puddin',deary--nobody cared, and Ma said we really did dosurprisin' well for such young girls."The laughter Tilly was trying to smother broke outthen, and was so infectious, Prue could not help joiningher, even before she knew the cause of the merriment."I was mad about the mistakes, but don't care enoughto cry. I'm laughing to think how Gad fooled Eph and Ifound him out. I thought Mose and Amos would havedied over it, when I told them, it was so funny," explainedTilly, when she got her breath."I was so scared that when the first orange hit me, Ithought it was a bullet, and scrabbled into the cradle asfast as I could. It was real mean to frighten the little onesso," laughed Prue, as Tilly gave a growl.Here a smart rap on the wall of the next room causeda sudden lull in the fun, and Mrs. Bassett's voice washeard, saying warningly, "Girls, go to sleep immediate, oryou'll wake the baby.""Yes'm," answered wo meek voices, and after a fewirrepressible giggles, silence reigned, broken only by an occasional snore from the boys, or the soft scurry of mice inthe buttery, taking their part in this old-fashioned Thanksgiving. 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