\ A THANKFUL THANKSGIVING ffiVVVWWVWWWWN/VWVWVtf "B DON'T feel as if I should enjoy I this Thanksglvln'," said Mrs. Jo- B el Nlsbett, looking down Into the g basket of glossy, red cheeked Spitzenbergs as -If It were a fam ily vault and taking up an apple as If It had been a skull; "no, I don't." "Tbeu, Snrepta," observed her hus band, who had just thrown a huge log on the open Are, "you don't disaru nothlu' to be thankful for! It's as hnrnsome a turkey as ever flapped, and I don't know of a year when I've had nicer pumpkins on that ar' corn lot!" "'Talu't turkey or pumpkin pies or cranberry BOSS as makes Thanksglv ln'," sighed Mrs. Nlsbett. "What Is it, then? Ef It's cold weath er, I should ha' thought the last frost would ha' done the business for you pretty fairly. Them artemislas by the , front door Is scorched black, and the oh? maple Is loslu' Its leaves as If they "I AM GOING TO HE MAIUIIED." was rainln' down. I'arson Jarvls Is comln' all the way from Sloatosvllle to preach tomorrow, and the quire's lamed a bran' new anthem just a-pur pose, about belu' thankful for harvest und all that sort of {fling. I'm sure I don't know what else you'd have." Mrs. Nlsbett only answered by a sigh. "I wonder If 'tain't possible Stephe *ll be bum tonight," she said after a . pause. y "He writ not. Ho thought he'd drop l In arly tomorrow morutn' If he caught the train he expected. Only think, old woman; It's Ave years since Stepbe was hum to Thanksglvln'!" Old Nlsbett rubbed his horny hands, with a chuckle, adding: "And I s'pose. If all accounts Is true, he's gettin' to be a great man out in that western country. It was kind of a hard pull when he went o(T and left us, but maybe the boy was in the right." "Yes," said Mrs. Nlsbett dolorously, "but somehow I can't get reconciled to the Idea of his marrylu' a strange gal out there." Joel scratched his bend. This was a phase of the subject that he scarcely felt competent to discuss. "Maybe you'll like her. Stephen says she's a nice gal." "Stephen says'. As if a man over , hend and ears in love wouldn't say I anything." "I wish he'd told us who she was." Mrs. Nlsbett groaned again. Joel went out to the woodpile, the everyday shrine whence ho generally derived what little of philosophic inspiration he had. "Mrs. Nlsbett!" It was a soft little voice, and the old lady's face relaxed instinctively as It sounded on her ears. "Why, Llda Tremaine—'tain't you!" "It is. I've done everything that Aunt Constance wanted, and now I've Just run over to see if you don't need a bit of help." She stood In the doorway, a fair little apparition, all flushed and rosy with the November wind, while her hlue eyes sparkled as if they were twin sapphires hidden away under her long, dark lashes. She was neither blond nor brunette, but a fresh cheeked girl, with nut brown hair, skin like the leaf of a damask rose, a straight, refined nose and Hps as. ripe as a red crabapple, though by no means so sour. Generally she had a demure sort of gravity lin gering about her face, but when she did laugh a dimple came out upon her cheek and a row of pearly teeth glim mered instantaneously. In one hand she carried a bunch of late autumn flowers. "See!" she cried, holding them up. "I ransacked Aunt Constance's garden for these. I knew that big vase on the mantel needed something, and, with a branch or so of scarlet leaves, I'll have a royal bouquet to help you keep Thanksgiving." Mrs. Nlsbett took the fnlr oval face between her two hands and kissed the fresh little mouth. "Set down, Llda," she said. "I wasn't a-calculatln' to have no sech flxin's up, but you've sech away, child, I can't uever say no to you." "Hut you're going to keep Thanks giving." cried Llda, throwing off her outer wrappings and dancing up to the looking glass like a little gnle of wind, "because you Invited Aunt Constance nnd me to dinner and because your SOD Is coming home." "Yes, child, yes," Bald Mrs. Nlsbett, subsiding once wore Into the mournful key from which Llda's sudden appear ance bad momentarily aroused her. "Joel's got the turkey shut up In a coop, and the bakln' 's done, and I'm Just a-flxln' tbein apples, and"— "Ob, oh," cried Llda, who had flut tered to the window, "what glorious red leaves speckled over with little drops of goldl May I make some wreaths for the wall? Oh, please say yes!" Mrs. Nlsbett said "yes"—lt would have been hard work to say "no" to Llda—and the girl soon came In, her npron full of the sprigs of the old ma ple tree, whose shadowy boughs kept the window veiled with cool shadows through the glaring summer dayß and showered fudlug gold upon the dead grass when the autumn came. Mrs. Nlsbett looked with tenderness upon the graceful little figure seuted on the hearth rug, when the shine of the high heaped logs lost Itself In her bright hair and made sparkles In her eyes, as the wreaths and trails of au tumn leaves grew rapidly beneath her deft Augers. "Llda," she said softly, "Llda, my dear!" Llda looked up. "I saw your Aunt Constance yester day, but there's sometbln' reserved about her, and I didn't like to ask about you—whether you had decided to go out as a governess or not; because, my dear, Joel and 1 were talkln' last night, and we both thought what a comfort It would be to have you here." "To have me here?" "We're old and we're alone, and somehow we've both took a fancy to you, my child. So when your Aunt Constance goes bnck to the city. If you choose to come here"— Mrs. Nlsbett paused abruptly and burst Into tears. "We had a little girl once, my dear, and If she'd lived she would ha' been nigh about your age." Llda let the leaves drop down on the floor as she sprang up and threw both arms round the old woman'B neck. "Oh, Mrs. Nlsbett" she whispered softly, "you are so very, very kind. Believe mo, I appreciate It all. but— but—l hardly know how to tell you." Mrs. Nlsbett listened Intently. Llda smiled and cried u little and then whis pered so low It was scarcely audible. "1 am going to be married." "Married!" ejaculated Mrs. Nlsbett with all a woman's Interest In this Im portant piece of Information. "And who to?" "Your son lives In lowa—ln Parllng ton ?" "Yes." "Well, did he ever mention the name of"— Llda paused, her cheeks glowing roses. Old Nlsbett had come In with an armful of wood, bringing a gule with him from the frosty outer world. "I'll tell you by and by," whispered Llda as she went buck to her work. "Joel 'll go out again arter awhile," thought Mrs. Nlsbett, "and then I'll hear about Llda's beau." But Joel sat down before the fire with a complucent satisfaction which boded 111 for the gratification of his wife's curiosity, and finally accompa nied Lhla home, thus frustrating all his wife's designs and cutting off her chance of hearing Llda's story. "Dear me!" thought she. "I don't be lieve the man wns ever born who kuowed when he wasn't wanted! How lonesome It seems when Llda's gone! What does the girl want to get maroled for when I could ha' took such a sight o' comfort with her? Oh, dear, dear! It does seem as if the world was ull askew!" The next day, In spite of the weather prophet's prediction of snow, dawned clear and brilliant as the dying smile of Indian summer. By 11 o'clock Mrs. Nlsbett was dressed In her best silk and cap, with the turkey browning beautifully In the oven and the cran berry tarts doing credit to themselves as well as to their maker, the table set, the fire high heaped with crackling logs and the plutcs dressed with coro nals of autumn leaves. Aunt Con stance, a tall, prim maiden lady of un certain age, stood before the bedroom looking glass arranging her coiffure. Llda, In a blue dress with a late au tumn rose in her hair, was tripping hither and thither as light footed and helpful as half a dozen household fai ries merged Into one, while Mrs. Nls bett stood regarding her with a loving eye, murmuring to herself: "Well, well, it seems like It was the Lord's will to deny us of Just what we most want, but If I had a daughter I could wish she was like 1.1 da." As the old kitchen clock struck 1 Mrs. Nlsbett, looking from the window, gave a little cry. "There he comes—there comes Joel, and, as I live, there's the boy with him!" Llda ran Into the bedroom. When she returned, Mrs. Nlsbett was clasped In the arms of a tall, handsome man of four or live and twenty. "Llda," said the proud matron, striv ing to disengage herself from the affec tionate clasp, "this is my son Stephen, and—why, what's the matter?" I*'or Stephen hud dropped her hands with an exclamation of surprise and amazement, and Llda stood there glow lug crimson. "Llda! Why, mother, this Is a sur prise Indeed that you have prepared for me!" "1 prepared!" echoed the astonished old lady. "Well, that's a good un, when I'm ten times as much surprised as you be! Llda, what does this mean?" "It means." said Llda, with a demure smile—she was beginning to recover her scattered self possession—"it means that this is the gentleman I am to be married to!" "Stephen!" cried Mra. Nlsbett, "Is Llda to be your wife?" "She hns given me ber promise to that effect, at least," said Stephen, looking proudly down upon Ills lovely little fiancee.' "Well, If It doD't beat all bow queer things do happen!" suld Mrs. Nlsbett, her face radiant. "And you've been llvln' neighbor to me these six weeks and I never knowed It. Lida, why didn't you tell me?" "Becuuse 1 never dreamed that Bte phen Rlslngham, my betrothed western lover, was anything to Mrs. Nlsbett," said I.lda, laughing. "There 'tis, now!" ejaculated the farmer. "How was Bhe to know that he wns only my nephew, ndopted when Ills parents died, twenty good years ago. We've always called him son, and he's always been a son to us. But Llda didn't know. Old woman, what do you say to Stephen's wife?" Mrs. Nlsbett clasped Lida to her heart. "I do say," she ejaculated, "this Is the thaukfullest Thanksglvln' I ever lived to see!"— New York Daily News. RULES FOR THE FEAST. A Tliunkngl vlng Menu, With Sug gestions About the Turkey. It Is not only Thanksgiving dinner that Lady Bountiful is expected to pro vide for, says the Chicago Record, but she has the men of the family home for at least the day, and in many cases u houseful of cognpany to look after. With all of this in view a few sugges tions are offered for various goodies and savories, both hot and cold, suit able to the scuson. Oysters on the Half Shell. Oxtail Soup. Salmon Cutlets. Caper Sauce. Curried Kidney (or Escaloped Sweet breads). Roast Turkey. Cranberry Sauce or Jelly. Mashed Potatoes. Stewed Celery with White Sauce. Spinach or Peas. Pumpkin and Mince Pies. Quaking Pudding with Soft Custard. Cheese Souffle. Fruit. Nuts. Coffee. For the piece de resistance it is well to go to market prepared to buy the best, which is always a young, medium sized hen turkey. Mind that your pur chase is n thorough "black leg." If the legs Incline to paleness, Father Time has been nt work. The breast must be broad and fat, the skin very white and the neck short. If the legs are red and adorned with long spurs, these are sure signs of an old gobbler. Nothing will so Improve a turkey and give it PIECE DE 11E8ISTANCE. the desired holiday flavor as a stuffing of mushrooms, und, as these are raised In such quantities for the market now adays, they arc no longer au cxtruva gance. The stuffing Is mnde In this way: A pound of nice, tender ham cut in dice. When hot, add two pounds of mushrooms, a little grated nutmeg, white pepper to taste and a buy leaf (the hum supplies enough salt). Blend all together In the saucepan over a moderate Are until the ham Is cooked; then put aside to cool. Stuff the crop out well, and if any remains put It In the body of the turkey; then sew both neatly. A BARNYARD DRAMA. The Victim's Dream of a Horrible Revenge. Rooster—So you will steal my corn, will you? Oh, you needn't strut around here as though you were the only one In this menagerie. Turkey—Oh, I don't know. You're uot In It with me just now. I'm the most popular thing on the walk at present. Rooster—Well, madam, stretch your rubber neck up over my bead all you want today, but Just you wait till to morrow! When your skinny legs are being dragged to the execution block, I will look on at your gory expiration and from the bottom of my lungs will crow for victory! Turkey (taking two struts coopwnrd and landing in the center of the stage! —Aye, aye, sir! But listen. Death hath Its rewards, and to sacrifice my self at the altar of revenge is more glorious than life. What If my beau teous wings shall switch the dust from out the cracks of the kitchen stove? Wuit till my nude and helpless form lies stretched upon the platter of the feast! Then shall revenge come to me, for never yet was one of our tribe sac rificed at the altar of Thanksgiving that the merciless gourmnuds (lid not so o'erstuff themselves that nothing In all the world was worth the having for three days In advance. Revenge! My friends, revenge Indeed Is sweet!— Detroit Free Press. HE WON HIS BET. Satisfactory Coarse Dinner Served Without Knives and Forkn. Several members of the Transporta tion club of this city were smoking and chatting over the after dinner coffee a few days ago when the conversation turned to the "horseless age." Trolley cars, automobiles and airships had their share of the talk, when one of the party, a young man well known In New York clubland, said, "I wonder if they will ever Invent silver less din ners." "Sllverless dinners!" exclaimed the others. "Yes; dinners at which one will not have to bother with knives, forks or spoons, where everything will be pre pared in such fashion that one can sim ply take It In his fingers and still not require a pail of water alongside of him." "I doubt It," said another. "In fact, I don't see how such a thing could very well be." "Well," continued the man who made the proposition, "I am willing to wa ger the cost of a dinner that I can get up one which you will call excellent, and we won't have a piece of silver on the table." The wager was at once taken, and the young man sought the chef. Next night the five men were again together, and each had brought a woman to pass Judgment on the meal. It consisted of eight courses, and all those present vot ed it a perfect success. The menu was as follows: Oysters on the half shell, to be eaten from the shell. Consomme In cups. Frog*' legs, with a sauce on the side. Half of a baked squab, with the leg In pa per cap. Lamb chops, with the ends In paper cap. Stuffed celery. Ice cream sandwiches. Coffee. —New York Times. Improving the Eyes. A singular story is told about the shape of the eyes of Mine. Jane Had ing, the French actress, which are very remarkable. They are of the clear est and purest brown, like that of mountain brooks or wave washed onyx, and veiled with a thick fringe of black and silky lashes. But this is not ail. Her eyes are unusually and extraordi narily long, and this length is due to artificial means. It is a custom among the Turks to lengthen the eyes by cut ting the corners. This is done very early, at the age of two or three years, the outer corners being deftly split with a lancet about the twelfth part of an inch. While the wound is healing the lids are drawn outward every day, and when it is quite cured the eye is still submitted to the drawing process every day for a long time, with the result that it becomes long and narrow. The story about Mine. Hading proceeds to declare that her father was in Turkey and saw the practice and determined to try it on his little girl, then about three years old. Whether the story is true or not, one thing is certain—the ad mirers of the actress declare she has the most beautiful eyes on the stage. Says the Druggist In Panning. John 11. Lnnulng of Cincinnati rises to assert that the American physician is handling too much medicine on his own hook and not giving the druggist a chance. He says: "The drug trade is badly cut Into. Ten years ago all pre scriptions were handled by druggists exclusively, but now they don't stand half a chance. In former times no physician carried his own medicines, but at each place visited wrote a pre scription. Nowadays he is equipped with a bag, In which in tablet form are all the combinations to combat dis ease. "The big drughouses are responsible, together with the fact that nowadays nearly all medicines can be tabletlzed. The wholesale houses sell to the physi cian, who In addition to Ills services furnishes and charges for the medicine. Aside from occasional prescriptions about the only thing left for the drug gist Is the sale of proprietary articles, toilet sundries and the like." The Rotation of Uranus. Everybody who takes an Interest In astronomy is aware that the two outer most planets of the solar system, Ura nus and Neptune, are believed to rotate backward; that Is, In a direction con trary to the rotation of all the other members of the system. But the evi dence that they do thus rotate Is indi rect; such, for Instance, as the fact that their satellites revolve backward In their orbits. Recently, however, Henri Deslnndres of the Meudon observatory has applied a method of determining tlie direction of rotation by spectro scopic observation, which gives direct evidence that in the case of Uranus at least the rotation is really backward. The method is based on the inclination of the lines in the spectrum of a ro tating body, and resembles that by which a few years ago Professor Ivee ler demonstrated the motions of Sat- ! urn's rings. It is to be applied next to Neptune. The Science of Stoking. According to Consul General Mason, nt Berlin, the trailing clouds of black smoke from mill and factory that hang over so many American cities, darken ing the atmosphere and befouling the buildings, could be eliminated if the scientific methods of constructing chim neys and stoking furnaces that prevail In Germany were adopted here. "It is not every strapping laborer who can shovel coal who is permitted to stoke a boiler furnace In Germany," says Mr. Mason. "The stoker In that country must learn the theory and practice of economical firing, whereby the coal is so distributed over the grate surface as to secure the most perfect combustlou.' The use of fuel briquettes for domesticj purposes in Berlin also tends largely to< the prevention of smoke." . r j TURKEY A LA PURITAINE. A Novel Way of Preparing: the Dird For Ills Doom. Anent the subject of turkeys, one of the dealers in the great national feast bird asked a reporter, says the Florida Times-Union, if he knew how to pre pare and cook n turkey properly. The scribe confessed ignorance. "Get you a half pint of good old whisky." "What's that got to do with the prep aration of a turkey?" "Everything. Saturate enough corn in the whisky to soak up all the spir its. Feed that to your gobbler. The old fellow will like it. First thiug you know he feels his oats, or, more, prop erly, his corn. He will spread his tail to the breeze, trail his wings on the ground and map off circles under the impression that he owns the earth and Is the boss of everything on It. lie will fluff up his feathers, wrinkle his neck and look intensely serious, all the while splitting the atmosphere into small chunks. By and by the old boy gets to staggering, his gobbling Is more frequent, but less coherent, he gives a lurch backward and another forward, Jabs his bill in the ground, reels and falls. "Now for the ax. His head is off; he Is bled and hung up for twenty-four hours In a cool place. Make your stuf fing to suit your own taste. Put him In the baking pan breast downward. Only Idiots cook fowls breast up. You want all the succulent juices to ruu Into the breast. A juicy breast is the perfection of cooking. He conies to the table smoking hot and breathing an aroma like zephyrs which have soughed through gardens of roses and fields of ripe corn. Then lay to." "Yes," commented the reporter, "but the Society For the Prevention of Cru elty to Animals would be horror struck." "Not at all. The bird has got to die, so let him die happy." "How about the very good people?" "Why, bless your soul, man, that way of cooking a turkey is an Inven tion of the Puritans!" SPOILED HIS DINNER. Ail UnpleriNxint TlinnkMgt ving Day For n Politician. "Bluest Thanksgiving I ever spent?" mused the fine old gentleman who has an unconquerable antipathy to prac tical politics. "It stands out iu my memory like an obelisk 011 a plain, and it was not so very long ago, either. "I had been induced that fall to run for an important public office. It was doue against my better judgment and under great pressure, but when a man enters such a fight he wants to win. I was fn a close district and determined to put up the very best fight that the circumstances would permit. I adver tised at once for an extra stenographer, and from the many who responded se lected a beautiful, bright and dashing young woman who justified my imme diate faith in her ability. She did all my private correspondence, knew as much about the inside of the campaign as I did, worked day and night with a willingness that was surprising, and even took from one of my shrewdest advisers the list of voters In the stron gest section with which I had to con tend, with full instructions as to how the most Influential persons among them could be won to my cause. It was great work, and yet I fell several hundred short of the normal party vote. "My successful opponent lived in a neighboring town and graciously Invit ed nie to be liis guest 011 the following Thanksgiving. It would have looked surly to refuse, and I went. It was reallj' an admirable social function, but the few hours I put in there were tor ture. The host met me with a hearty handclasp. Turning, he said, 'My wife.' Resplendent in satin and jew els, I saw ray stenographer. 'Love and war,' she murmured. 'He thinks I was visiting my old home in New Eng land.' I held my peace, but that fatted turkey tasted like cork."—Detroit Free Press. THE FIRST THANKSGIVING. A Cote 111 pornry Account of tlie Pio neer Feast In 1021. The first Thanksgiving day was cele brated in the autumn of 1(521. An account of the pioneer of all these feasts has been presented in a letter by Edward Wiuslow written in the same year: "You shull understand that In this little time that few of us have been here we have built seven dwelling houses and four for the use of the plan tation and have made preparations for eleven others. We set the last spring some twenty acres of corn and sowed some six acres of barley and pea 9. Our corn did prove well, God be praised, and our barley indifferent good, but our peas not worth harvest ing. Our harvest being got In, our governor sent l'our meu out fowling, so that we might after a speclul manner rejoice together after v had gathered the fruit of our labors. They four in one day killed as much fowl as, with a little help beside, served the whole company almost a week, at which time among other recreations we exercised our arms, many of the Indiuns arriv ing among us, and among the rest their greatest king, Massasoit, with ninety men, whom for three days we enter tained and feasted. 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." Thus Thanksgiving wns born. It continued to be celebrated, though not with any regularity, for about six ty years, after which It wns annually ordered by the general court, not al ways In November, but generally after the harvests were gathered. THANKSGIVING ....POETRY &WWWWWV 'WWWWWIIg BACK to the home of childhood, Though scattered far and wide, Back to the dear old kitchen— Yes, back to your mother's side. Come, kiss her wrinkled forehead. Her hair, as white as snow, j And sit down on her footstool, As in the long ago. While father bonds above you Weak with the weight of years, ! His trembling voice with gladness. His dim eyes tilled with tears. ' To both the greatest pleasure The year brings on its way Is this: The glad homecoming Upon Thanksgiving day. Once more the rooms re-echo From kitchen, stairs and hall. The sound of old time voices And merry dinner call, While many sweet grandchildren. With laughter light und gay, Come pressing round the tuble This glad Thanksgiving day. TUB GLAD HOMECOMING. So come, ye sons and daughters, From restless city strife; Come ere you lose your relish } For the quiet Joys of life; Come back, ye roving children, From prairies far and wide And cluster round the hcarthstono J Once more at eventide. * ; Take up your song of childhood ! And sing it o'er ugain; Forget that ye are matrons Or business loving men, ' And if your eyes grow misty Rejoice that it is so; A heart sincerely tender Is the purest one to know. Remember, with your loved ones Life's lamp doth feebly burn; Your parents may not linger To greet a late return. Forget them not, though patient; * i Oh, come now while you may! v*>! Praise God; rejoice together On this Thanksgiving day. —Good Housekeeping. Soliloqny of n Turkey. I know that Thanksgiving day's most here, And it makes me long to fly. For I've reached my prime, and It's mighty clear That it's time for me to die. I saw the head of the house come out, "> And he smiled as he gazed at me, And he cried aloud that there was no doubt What a comfortable meal I'd be. Oh, I've got to go! And it gives me a fit, Though it isn't so much for my life That I care about, but he can't carvo a bit, , And I've got to be hacked by his wifeu —New York Herald. Sad Time For Them. J Of what are the turkeys thinking Out yonder in the yard, With their red eyes sadly blinking? Do they think their fate is hard? x j Are they on life reflecting j And to hear their flnal call Each moment now expecting? i'j No; turkeys don't think at all. • i Thanksgiving Trust. Lord, I give thanks! Last year, thou knowest, my best ambl* tions failed; My back with scourgings of defeat waa flailed i My eyes felt oft the sharp salt wash oi tears; No guerdon blessed the tireless toil oi years; Fast in the snares my helpless feet were tied. Yet in my woes thou didst with me abide. Lord, I give thanks! —Susie M. Best in Lippincott's. II Im Preference. "What portion of the fowl do you pre fer?" • "Oh, anything but the Napoleon, sir!" "What do you mean?" asked Carver, with a start. "I mean I do not want the bony part." —Detroit Free Press. An Unknown Quantity. She searched through the lexicon once and again, And her face wore sad lines of misgiv ing. "I was socking," she said, with an accent of pain, "The Spanish for our word 'Thanksgiv ing.' " —Boston Journal. I Not In 11 Good Set. "No," exclaimed the mother turkey, "I would prefer my children not to as sociate wit v those incubator chicks." "Because they are so heedless and don't know how to feather their own, nests?" Inquired the duck. "No, it isn't that so much I have brooded over," replied the turkey, "but there's something so artificial about them." However, when the incubator heard this they thought of the funeral baked meats of Thanksgiving and re marked significantly, "Death levels alt ranks.'' —ls'ew Vork Journal.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers