as if they ever needed them! The girls remained at home to help set the table, and give last touches to various affairs which filled their busy little souls with anxiety. 3. The boys came trooping home with appetites that would have made the big turkey tremble if it had not been past all fear. They retired to dress; and for half an hour there was a washing, brushing, and prinking that would have done any tidy woman's heart good to see. When the bell rang, a troop of fresh-faced lads with shiny hair, clean collars, and Sunday jackets on, filed into the dining-room, where Mrs. Jo sat at the head of the table, “looking splendid," as the boys said. 4. Nearly every one had contributed to the feast, so the dinner was a peculiarly interesting one to the eaters of it, who beguiled the pauses by remarks on their own productions. 5. "If these are not good potatoes I never saw any," observed Jack, as he received his fourth big mealy one. 6. "Some of my herbs are in the stuffing of the turkey, that's why it's so nice," said Nan, taking a mouthful with intense satisfaction. 7. "My ducks are prime any way; Asia said she never cooked such fat ones," added Tommy. 8. "Well, our carrots are beautiful, and our parsnips will be ever so good when we dig them," put in Dick, and Dolly murmured his assent from behind the bone he was picking. 9. "I helped make the pies with my pumpkins,” called out Robby, with a laugh which he stopped by retiring into his mug. 10. 66 I picked some of the apples that the cider is made of," said Demi. 11. "I raked the cranberries for the sauce," cried Nat. 12. "I got the nuts," added Dan; and so it went all round the table. 13. "Who made up Thanksgiving?" asked Rob; for being lately promoted to jacket and trousers, he felt a new and manly interest in the institutions of his country.. 66 14. THANKSGIVING DINNER AT PLUMFIELD. 233 See who can answer that question;" and Mr. Baer nodded to one or two of his best history boys. 15. "I know," said Demi; "the Pilgrims made it." 16. "What for?" asked Rob, without waiting to learn who the Pilgrims were. 17. "I forget;" and Demi subsided. 18. "I believe it was because they were not starved once, and so, when they had a good harvest, they said, 'We will thank God for it,' and they had a day and called it Thanksgiving," said Dan, who liked the story of the brave men who suffered so nobly for their faith. 19. "Good! I didn't think you would remember anything but natural history;" and Mr. Baer tapped gently on the table as applause for his pupil. 20. Dan looked pleased; and Mrs. Jo said to her son, "Now, do you understand about it, Robby?" 21. "No, I don't. I thought pil-grims were a sort of big bird that lived on rocks, and I saw pictures of them in Demi's book." 22. "He means penguins. Oh, is n't he a little goosey!" and Demi lay back in his chair and laughed aloud. 23. "Don't laugh at him, but tell him all about it if you. can," said Mrs. Baer, consoling Rob with more cranberrysauce for the general smile that went round the table at his mistake. 24. "Well, I will;" and, after a pause to collect his ideas, Demi delivered the following sketch of the Pilgrim Fathers, which would have made even those grave gentlemen smile if they could have heard it. 25. "You see, Rob, some of the people in England didn't like the king, or something, so they got into ships and sailed away to this country. It was full of Indians, and bears, and wild creatures, and they lived in forts, and had a dreadful time." 26. "The bears?" asked Robby with interest. 27. "No; the Pilgrims, because the Indians troubled them. They had n't enough to eat, and they went to church with guns, and ever so many died, and they got out of the ships on a rock, and it's called Plymouth Rock, and Aunt Jo saw it and touched it. The Pilgrims killed all the Indians and got rich, and hung the witches, and were very good; and some of my greatest-great-grandpas came in the ships. One was the Mayflower; and they made Thanksgiving, and we have it always, and I like it. Some more turkey, please." 28. "I think Demi will be a historian, there is such order and clearness in his account of events;" and Uncle Fritz's eyes laughed at Aunt Jo as he helped the descendant of the Pilgrims to his third bit of turkey. 29. "I thought you must eat as much as ever you could on Thanksgiving. But Franz says you must n't even then;" and Stuffy looked as if he had received bad news. 30. "Franz is right; so mind your knife and fork and be moderate, or else you won't be able to help in the games by and by," said Mrs. Jo. 31. "I'll be careful; but everybody does eat lots, and I like it better than being moderate," said Stuffy, who leaned to the popular belief that Thanksgiving must be kept by coming as near apoplexy as possible, and escaping with merely a fit of indigestion or a headache. 32. "Now, my 'pilgrims,' amuse yourselves quietly till tea-time, for you will have enough excitement this evening," said Mrs. Jo, as they arose from the table after a protracted sitting. 33. "I think I will take the whole flock for a drive, it is so pleasant; then you can rest, my dear, or you will be worn out this evening," added Mr. Baer; and as soon as coats and hats could be put on, the great omnibus was packed full, and away they went for a long gay drive, leaving Mrs. Jo to rest and finish sundry small affairs in peace. L. M. ALCOTT. LONGING FOR HOME. CXII.-LONGING FOR HOME. I. SONG of a boat: There was once a boat on a billow: Lightly she rocked to her port remote, And the foam was white in her wake like snow, And her frail mast bowed when the breeze would blow, II. I shaded mine eyes one day when a boat I marked her course till a dancing mote III. I pray you hear my song of a boat, For it is but short: My boat, you shall find none fairer afloat, Long I looked out for the lad she bore, On the open desolate sea, And I think he sailed to the heavenly shore, For he came not back to me There was once a nest in a hollow: Down in the mosses and knot-grass pressed, 235 You shall never light, in a summer quest Shall never light on a prouder sitter, A softer sound than their tender twitter, VI. I had a nestful once of my own, Ah happy, happy I! Right dearly I loved them: but when they were grown They spread out their wings to fly Oh, one after one they flew away Far up to the heavenly blue, VII. I pray you, what is the nest to me, My empty nest? And what is the shore where I stood to see Can I call that home where I anchor yet, Can I call that home where my nest was set, Nay, but the port where my sailor went, And the land where my nestlings be: Ah me! JEAN INGELOW. |