PA.GE SIX
THE CITIZEN, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 1913.
'Long Aboil
"STINT it s
time o
Just aroun
ings cr
With the
future
And the
Ai
sirens
s'sorinms
n';i& bM, taEfft it cteefin', whferi' the colts
Doh!tith life
Wh that's goirt
Ain't W ftWMom
I tr it fi j i ifi ; E ii hi II m T
at vo'utf n'6se w
I ' ' I I I E
WheThe old dead, leaves g'o zippin' dowrr the
f laAesSrCragily rows,
Wherrufve natpJeie caMe3, wiiyou
slove 5wauiellow men, mv n )
Arid you've money you cantlein-ouf4fousrs,
now and then! Jjf i Lfl
Ain't, it fine to wane from dreainin' of the home
ypur boyhood Knew '' .
Ana to nna tne
it used to
Long ago, about
to spare,
When your pa
were always fair!
TURKEY FOR TEN
rwH ANKSGIVING ain't different
B from any other day," snapped
Melllcont, making the most of
the creak In her rocker. "What's the
use of having a turkey when you've
got only a reed-blrd appetite!"
"It ain't just the turkey Itself," re
plied Mrs. Delia Wyatt, with a know
ing shako of her head, "though It's sur
prising how plumb crazy the kiddles
are after drumsticks. Land of love, If
Mr. Burbank could "only produce centi
pede gobblers! But It's what the tur
key stands for, Melliccnt"
There was a moment'e silence, then
the creak reasserted itself. "Maybe
there is when you've got sons and
daughters and grandchildren to sit
round the table and look for it,"
snapped Mllllcent; "but I'd like to
know what's backing up a Thanksgiv
ing turkey when you ain't got any
folks to reunite for a family dinner?"
Mrs. Wyatt put her knitting into her
work bag, with a sigh. "I've got to
stop In at Johnson's to buy eomo chest
nuts for the stuffing," she explained,
In apology for her glance at the clock
and abrupt leave-taking. "What did I
do with my hat? Oh, here It is on the
chair. Melllcent, do you remombor
Angelina Snow?"
Melllcent nodded, her mouth brist
ling with flvo hat pins, as sho Btood
with Mrs. Wyatt's jacket held out In
both hands toward the open fire.
"You made mo think of something
she told mo once my left eleeve's
caught there, Melllcent. Angelina had
the bluos terrible bad one morning."
continued Mrs. Wyatt, sticking in the
hatpins one by ono as sho talked, "but
stead of sitting down and making com
pany of them sho trotted them right
out for a walk. And what do you sup
pose sho did then? Sho went up and
down Spring street, looking and look
ing, and every time sho passed a wom
an uglier than herself eho counted
ner off on a finger. When her lingers
gave out she went homo cured. An
gellnavwouldn't have taken a blue rib
bon at a beauty show, either."
Melllcent Jancey's practical, active
nature had no time for sentimentalize
lng, but the morning after Mrs. Wyatt's
Visit now, strange thoughts with
twinkling oyes and wistful smiles
kept peeping out at her from behind
the routine of daily duties, and at noon
sho suddenly dropped broom and dust
r, dressed with trembling fingers, sur
5. E. KISeW"
merxdid. to o-iivin'
Hivnaf, 'long about
V ear, X ,
l 1 T1 X 1 !
qy cldoux iriarmsarva
n
isDana clear: n
cheeKs a - glowin with
jrig'ht,
a-goin'
sel lithe nippin' of
giaa. sun ceamin
do, ftYO
ThanKs g'ivin' , fexyou'd--esrgy
-agg
and ma were livin' and the days
c3
prised Teddle Roosevelt Tortoiseshell
with a bear hug, and darted from the
house bearing the exalted expressions
of an archangel, and wearing two
gloves for the same hand.
In the gathering twilight of that
Thanksgiving eve Miss Melllcont's
doorbell tinkled excitedly, and the next
moment Mrs. Wyatt flashed into the
sitting-room.
"I wanted you from first, Melllcent,"
she panted, without preface, "but it
made thirteen at tahlo, and it never oc
curred to me until an hour ago that I
could count Jessie's twins as one just
as well as not. You'll come, of course?"
"I'm sorry, Delia, but I vo a previous
engagement with a Thanksgiving tur
key of my own."
"You bought one, after all? But,
Melllcent, It will bo sb lonesome eat
ing It without any of your own folks
here."
"I'm to have somo of my own folks
ten of them!"
"Why, Melllcent, only yesterday you
told me that there wasnt a living soul
related to you this side the Rookies,
and"
"That was before you taught mo
how to find them, Delia. There, don't
be frightened. I've not lost my mind.
You remember about Angelina Snow?
I got to thinking of the uglier lives
than mine, Delia. Of the two dear
Misses Prescott worrying over money
matters over slnco they lost so much
in that mining "venture; of my Uttfe
dressmaker, who was the petted dar
ling in her homo back cast and has to
work for her living among strangers
out hero, because b?br lungs are weak
and she can't live anywhere else; of
poor, fastidious Mrs. Adams, who can
only afford a third-class boarding
house; of I won't go on, but they're
all invited, and they've all accepted."
Sho rose, and as she turned toward
Mrs. Wyatt the firelight revealed a
face radiant with happiness. "I can't
talk things out the way you can, De
lia," she concluded, with a gay little
laugh, "but just you come Into the
kitchen with mo and soo my Thanks
giving turkey!" May C. Ringwalt, In
Los Angeles Times.'
Some Features Remain.
Thanksgiving, 1021! How was It
celebrated? Tho roll of a drum an
nounced the hour for prayer. After tho
religious servlco came feasting and
outdoor athletic sports.
Thanksgiving day, 1913! How will
It be celebrated? With religious serv
ices, feasting and outdoor athletic
sports.
ksgiviif Time
this
with, the mqnv
liKe red b.
the brisK breeze
just trie way
r- -
Vegetarians
Thanksgiving
li'm thankful for the celery,
The canned pears and the onion stcw;i
I'm thankful for the beans; to me
The turnips look inviting, too;
The sweet potatoes give me glee.
The parsnips gladly I assail,
But best of all things is the rich
Aroma of the turkey which
I am permitted to inhale.
ith proper thanks I break the crust
That Fortune lavs beside my plate;
I shun the oysters, for I must
Not carelessly be tempting rate;
The giblets all aside I thrust,
To me ihev are ot no avail:
I nrnve mv itrenath while eazing at
The rich and juicy mince pie that
I must not eat, but may inhale.
S. E. Kisa
Why We Give Thanks.
Thanksgiving to God Is fitting, be
cause we have countless reasons for
lit. God is our father, and he fills all
our days with blessings. There Is nev
er a moment when we have not some
thing new for which to praise him.
There is blessing In' everything ho
doea for us and sends to us. We should
bo most ungrateful If we did not give
thanks unto God. Prayer should .not
bo all clamor for now favors, it should
bo full of recognition of mercies and
good things. It Is good, also, to give
thanks, because it makes' our own lives
sweeter, truer and more beautiful. Joy
Is beauty. Praise la comedy. One who
'does not give thanks lacks tho high
est element of loveliness. Ingratitude
is dark and sombor; praise is light and
Ibeautlful. Giving thanks also makes
lis greater blessings to others. Prais
ing people scatter inspiration
wherever they go. They mako othera
happier, braver, stronger. Our days
.should be full of praise and song. Then
God will be pleased with our lives and
this world will bo mado sweeter.and
toetter.-J. It. Miller. D. D.
Individual Spirit
Although a national observance, tho
(spirit of Thanksgiving must ever be
Individual. Otherwise it must be mere
iform and ceremony, lacking that heart-
jfelt gratitude that spontaneous lm-
i pulse which sprlngo unbidden from
I the grateful heart
r
lazes?
he colts
Forbes
and the
R
ch
M
an
O
A Thanksgiving
Storp
By HENRY HOWLAND.
T was tho day be
fore Thanksgiv
ing, but there was
no feeling of
thankfulness with
in Henry Forbes.
His look was hope
less, his clothes
were seedy, and It
was long slnco he
had been able to
satisfy his hun-
ser.
Forbes was be
ginning to long- for
vengeance. He was beginning to feel
that the blade and tho torch were jus
tifiable. Ho had gone from placo to
place all day and he had always heard
the same roply. But It was not only
tho experience of a day that rankled
in his breast It was tho experience
of that day ropeated over and over.
The fever from which he had but late
ly recovered had been responsible for
tho loss of his position. Ho had
worked up to that placo through years
of steady, patient efforts. Now
wherever he applied they gave hhn to
understand that he would have to go
back to tho bottom and begin all over
again.
Bitterly he thought of the old adage:
There's always room at the top.
He was standing beside a big Iron
gatepost at tho end of a driveway
which wound among elms and maples
up to a mansion that could be partly
seen through tho trees. It was too cold
to snow. Only an occasional tattered
flake was whirled along by tho wind.
Occasionally a carriage passed up
tho drive toward the big house In
which tho first lights were beginning
to flicker. In ono of these carriages
Forb caught a gllmDSO of a man with,
an armful of flowers. Other carriages
passed out Presently a wagon load
ed with folding chairs was driven,
through tho gate and up toward tho
huge pile that loomed among tho leaf
less trees.
Forbes drew a heavy high and shiv
ered In the cold. He started on, fear
ing that he might be Buspected of va
grancy or something worso if ho were
found loitering at the gate, but aftor
he had gone half a square ho turned
and went back and stood beside tho
tall Iron post again.
"I have tolled and been honest," he
thought, "and what's my reward? Aft-
Beginning to Long for Vengeance
pr twenty years they tell me to go
back and start all over again. Pretty
Boon they won't even give me a chance
to do that Then they'll toll mo I'm
too old, and whafil follow? Oh God
if there Is a God what are wo coming
to? Here I etand out in the cold, mis
erable, alono, with tho world against
mo. Up there some one has enough to
mako a hundred perhaps a thousand
such men as I am happy. People
Irlvo past mo with no thought ot what
( am, with no sympathy to offer, and
aurry to where ho is, surrounded by
jplendor, where they may flatter hlra
rod add to his joys because- becauso
io has the money that a hundred per
haps a thousand others should share.
"And which of us has been the bet
:er man? Which of us has honestly
jarned the most? Which has kept
loarcst to God's commandments? Per
taps he has his money becauso he has
iheated others, or becauso luck fa-
vored him In eomo speculation, or
Borne ono may have left It to him.
Surely, he cannot honestly have
earned so much more than I have. Yet
the preachers talk about God's justice.
It God Is just why is he there and
why am I compelled to stand out hero
In the dark and shiver, with no hope
for .tomorrow ?"
Another carriogo passed up tho,
drive and Forbes bitterly said to him
self: VBah! I supposo eoclcty Is gather
ing hero this evening for one of itsi
'functions.' Tomorrow the papers will
have lists of the names of the people
who wore present The money they
will spend for flowers this evening
would be enough to keep many a poor
family comfortable that will have to
suffer through the wlntor."
Ho clinched his hands and swore
that he didn't -believe a Just God could
reign while such conditions existed. He
worked himself into such a passion
that ho forgot the cold, forgot tho dan-'
ger of being arrested for vagrancy, for
got that he was talking aloud.
Then ho saw a woman coming down,
the walk from the palace among tho;
trees. Ho started away, but impulsive
ly turned again and met her as sho
was passing through the gate. He
could see in the dim light which re
mained that she was probably a serv
ant, and he asked:
"Who lives up there?"
"Mr. Talburn I mean tho Talburns."
"Oh. And they're having a ball or a
reception or something of that kind
tonight, are they?"
"No. Mr. Talburn's dead. They're
getting ready for the funeral."
Forbes pushed his hands down into
his pockets and stood for a moment
looking at the splendid house in which
"Can You Drive a Team of Horses?"
the rich man lay dead. Then, turning
toward the woman, he asked:
"When la the funeral to be?"
"Tomorrow," she answered.
"Thanksgiving is a poor day for a
funeral, isn't it?"
"Any day is a poor day for a fu
neral," sho said, and went on her way.
Forbes pulled himself together, a
moment later, and, starting onward,
said:
"So it Is. Any day Is a poor day for
a funeral, and any day is a poor day
for giving up hope and losing faith in
God."
At the street corner ho halted, un
certain which way to go. Whllo ho
hesitated a man approached him.
"What'o the trouble, my friend?" tho
ptranger asked.
"I'm hungry and I'm out of a job,"
Forbes replied.
"Can you drive a team of horses?"
"Of course I can."
"I need an extra driver. I'm to fur
nish carriages for Mr. Talburn's fu
neral tomorrow. Come along. You're
just the man I'm looking for. I can
put you to work now and give you a
steady job if you want it"
"I'm alivo and I've got a job,"
thought Forbes as be walked along
with his employer, "and tomorrow's
Thanksgiving."
"My Prayer."
Heavenly Father, instead of bring
ing to theo merely empty words of
thanks for tho. many blessings that
have come to mo throughout the year,
help mo to show my heart's doep grati
tude by doing all the useful things I
can In thy name today.
Let me try to find every lonely
heart within my reach, and freely
share my portion of cheer with all.
Let mo remember to speak tho tardy
words of honest praise and apprecia
tion my selfish Hps havo unwittingly
withheld, and prayerfully leave unsaid
the little things that hurt and sting.
Let mo fully- test the tender magic
that lied in smiles, kind words and little-
acts ot thoughtfulness, and see how
many ead, discouraged souls I can
mako glad.
And grant, O Father, that the even
tide may find nothing in my humble
power left undone or unsaid that ould
help some one In need, or lnuuo tho
world better and brighter. Amen,
THANKSGIVING DAY
By Francis Bird Pugh.
1630
Stern woods and frowning sky end
farther on
A wide, wild waste of water wa Inn
In
I no nuuna inai ycarncu i or luucn oi
loved one's hand,
For parents' blesslno and for child-
dren'a kiss.
The ellken tassels of the maize had
waved
Above the leveled graves of many
one
band
ivneennn. nraiBcn uuu. ana inanxc
him that the earth
Ana water navo xnem todq. an
most of all '
i nai inev were Tree xo worsnin ni
for whom
dear on earth.
time.
stands
...... v..w ... a"
lantlc'a foam
HIIU 111 II- IdVCU 111 LI1E3 UGI LIGI WdLCID U
veins
n iiclvvuik wrdju uiu laiiu iiuui caa
to west
i ne lire niaon nr inn nannn ends an
flows.
From tne abundance or us truitru
breast
IE trcuh inn cni nrcn ) i iin niucr K
arms
thers craved.
knew,
God thanks
to thee.
1913
Here's a world that Is white, and
road smooth as glass,
Ana a ananK no nooa team tnai vo
neighbor can't pass,
am a Bieinhfui of tarn v vounu to
and old-
Well tucked In with laprobes to kee
out the cold;
Anu aiunc wun wic iduynicr mat uyii
ens the way
Is the dear, delicious tangle,
And the Jingle, Jingle, jangle
Of the slelghbells In New England
On Thanksgiving day.
Nnw thn hniinn Ift In ftlnht ulth th
door opened wide
wniia ins narnnn moinrr sian
waiting Inside.
wnv the love In hep face finlnea II
sun on the snowl
You're the child that you used to
long, long ago.
passes away
With her arms around your neck
this Thanksgiving day.
Tnen nomn uiui tna moon Keen
pace, cold and bright,
Just tlngelng with sliver earth's ve
ture of white.
The voices are hushed, for the spe
of an hour
power.
Measured hoofs beats keen t mo to
thoughts on. tho way,
And mark the rhythmic tangle,
And the Jingle, Jingle, jangle
Of the slelghbells In New England
Thanksgiving day.
TUAWltOfJIIMri TUnilRUTtS
I I inimuui viiivv iiiwuwiiiu
wish turkeys were as cheap as Thank
Blvlng proclamations. Toledo Blade.
iNeany a nunarea marriage license
Pittsburgh Chronicle-Telegraph.
i n ft nrnmsr rff Rniers anniit li
Herald.
more Sun.
not a Turk American, European
Asiatic Newark Star.
turkey as ho stretched his neck
the chopping block. Chicago Itecor
Herald.