FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY PROCLAMATION

This incident is related to show, first, something of the character of Columbus, and, second, the superstitions of the Indians. Read it to determine what the author wished to bring out about Columbus. Was Columbus justified in deceiving the Indians?

When Columbus first landed upon the shores of theNew World, and for a long time after, the nativesthought that he had come down from heaven, and theywere ready to do anything for this new friend. But atone place, where he stayed for some months, the chiefs5became jealous of him and tried to drive him away. It hadbeen their custom to bring food for him and his companionsevery morning, but now the amount they brought was verysmall, and Columbus saw that he would soon be starvedunless he could make a change.10

Now Columbus knew that in a few days there was to bean eclipse of the sun; so he called the chiefs around himand told them that the Great Spirit was angry with themfor not doing as they agreed in bringing him provisions, andthat to show his anger, on such a day, he would cause the15sun to be darkened. The Indians listened, but they didnot believe Columbus and there was a still greater fallingoff in the amount of the food sent in.

On the morning of the day set, the sun rose clear andbright, and the Indians shook their heads as they thought20how Columbus had tried to deceive them. Hour afterhour passed and still the sun was bright, and the Spanishbegan to fear that the Indians would attack them soon, asthey seemed fully convinced that Columbus had deceivedthem. But at length a black shadow began to steal overthe face of the sun. Little by little the light faded anddarkness spread over the land.5

The Indians saw that Columbus had told them the truth.They saw that they had offended the Great Spirit and thathe had sent a dreadful monster to swallow the sun. Theycould see the jaws of this horrible monster slowly closingto shut off their light forever. Frantic with fear, they filled10the air with cries and shrieks. Some fell prostrate beforeColumbus and entreated his help; some rushed off andsoon returned laden with every kind of provisions they couldlay their hands on. Columbus then retired to his tent andpromised to save them if possible. About the time for the15eclipse to pass away, he came out and told them that theGreat Spirit had pardoned them this time and he would soondrive away the monster from the sun; but they must neveroffend in that way again.

The Indians promised, and waited. As the sun began20to come out from the shadow their fears subsided, andwhen it shone clear once more, their joy knew no bounds.They leaped, they danced, and they sang. They thoughtColumbus was a god, and while he remained on the islandthe Spaniards had all the provisions they needed.25

—Stories of Heroic Deeds.

Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday,the 26th day of November next, to be devoted bythe people of these states to the service of that great andglorious Being, who is the beneficent author of all the goodthat was, that is, or that will be. That we may then all5unite in the rendering unto Him our sincere and humblethanks for His kind care and protection of the people ofthis country previous to their becoming a nation—for thesingle and manifold mercies, and for the favorable interpellationof His providence, in the course and conclusion of10the late war.

1. This old document comes down to us with a fine message of inspiration from the past and from its great author. Explain the reference in line 8; in lines 10 and 11. Compare this proclamation with the President's proclamation for the current year.

When, nearly three centuries ago, the first settlerscame to the country which has now become thisgreat republic, they fronted not only hardship and privation,but terrible risk to their lives. In those grim years thecustom grew of setting apart one day in each year for a5special service of thanksgiving to the Almighty for preservingthe people through the changing seasons. Thecustom has now become national and hallowed by immemorialusage. We live in easier and more plentifultimes than our forefathers, the men who with ruggedstrength faced the rugged days; and yet the dangers tonational life are quite as great now as at any previous time5in our history. It is eminently fitting that once a year ourpeople should set apart a day for praise and thanksgivingto the Giver of Good, and, at the same time that theyexpress their thankfulness for the abundant mercies received,should manfully acknowledge their shortcomings10and pledge themselves solemnly and in good faith to striveto overcome them. During the past year we have beenblessed with plentiful crops. Our business prosperity hasbeen great. No other people has ever stood on as high alevel of material well-being as ours now stands. We are15not threatened by foes from without. The foes from whomwe should pray to be delivered are our own passions, appetites,and follies; and against these there is always needthat we should war.

Therefore, I now set apart Thursday, the thirtieth day20of this November, as a day of thanksgiving for the past andof prayer for the future, and on that day I ask that throughoutthe land the people gather in their homes and places ofworship, and in rendering thanks unto the Most High forthe manifold blessings of the past year, consecrate themselves25to a life of cleanliness, honor, and wisdom, so thatthis nation may do its allotted work on the earth in amanner worthy of those who founded it and of those whopreserved it.

1. Keep a lookout for the current Thanksgiving Day proclamation of the President. Read it with those of Washington and Roosevelt, and contrast the three, as to style of writing and historical facts mentioned.

The God of harvest praise;In loud thanksgiving raiseHand, heart, and voice.The valleys laugh and sing,Forests and mountains ring,5The plains their tribute bring,The streams rejoice.Yes, bless His holy name,And joyous thanks proclaimThrough all the earth.10To glory in your lotIs comely; but be notGod's benefits forgotAmid your mirth.The God of harvest praise;15Hands, hearts, and voices raise,With sweet accord.From field to garner throng,Bearing your sheaves along,And in your harvest song20Bless ye the Lord.

1. Sing these three stanzas to the tune ofAmerica.2. Explain lines 11-14; 18.3. Search for a Thanksgiving story in current newspapers and magazines or in books. Read it and report on your story in class.

1. Sing these three stanzas to the tune ofAmerica.

2. Explain lines 11-14; 18.

3. Search for a Thanksgiving story in current newspapers and magazines or in books. Read it and report on your story in class.

Old Scrooge was a rich and grasping business man; Bob Cratchit was his underpaid and overworked clerk. On Christmas Eve three spirits in succession appeared to Scrooge: Christmas Past, Christmas Present, and Christmas Yet-to-Come. The second showed him, with other visions, this Christmas feast in Cratchit's home. The lessons the spirits taught him so influenced Scrooge that he set out early next morning to spend a real Christmas; and he was a changed man ever after.

Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit, Cratchit's wife, dressedout but poorly in a twice-turned gown, but bravein ribbons, which are cheap and make a goodly show forsixpence; and she laid the cloth, assisted by BelindaCratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons;5while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepanof potatoes, and getting the corners of his monstrousshirt collar (Bob's private property, conferred upon hisson and heir in honor of the day) into his mouth, rejoicedto find himself so gallantly attired and yearned to show his10linen in the fashionable parks. And now two smallerCratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming thatoutside the baker's they had smelt the goose and known itfor their own; and basking in luxurious thoughts of sageand onion these young Cratchits danced about the table15and exalted Master Peter Cratchit to the skies, while he(not proud, although his collars nearly choked him) blewthe fire until the slow potatoes, bubbling up, knocked loudlyat the saucepan lid to be let out and peeled.

"What has ever got your precious father, then?" saidMrs. Cratchit. "And your brother, Tiny Tim! AndMartha warn't as late last Christmas Day by half anhour!"

"Here's Martha, mother," said a girl, appearing as she5spoke.

"Here's Martha, mother!" cried the two youngCratchits. "Hurrah! There's such a goose, Martha!"

"Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late youare!" said Mrs. Cratchit, kissing her a dozen times and10taking off her shawl and bonnet for her with officious zeal.

"We'd a deal of work to finish up last night," repliedthe girl, "and had to clear away this morning, mother!"

"Well! never mind so long as you are come," said Mrs.Cratchit. "Sit ye down before the fire, my dear, and have15a warm, Lord bless ye!"

"No, no! There's father coming," cried the two youngCratchits, who were everywhere at once. "Hide, Martha,hide!"

So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob, the father,20with at least three feet of comforter, exclusive of the fringe,hanging down before him; and his threadbare clothesdarned up and brushed, to look seasonable; and Tiny Timupon his shoulder. Alas for Tiny Tim, he bore a littlecrutch and had his limbs supported by an iron frame!25

"Why, where's our Martha?" cried Bob Cratchit, lookinground.

"Not coming," said Mrs. Cratchit.

"Not coming!" said Bob, with a sudden declension inhis high spirits; for he had been Tim's blood horse all the30way from church and had come home rampant. "Notcoming upon Christmas Day!"

Martha didn't like to see him disappointed, if it wereonly a joke; so she came out prematurely from behind thecloset door and ran into his arms, while the two youngCratchits hustled Tiny Tim and bore him off into thewashhouse, that he might hear the pudding singing in the5copper.

"And how did little Tim behave?" asked Mrs. Cratchit,when she had rallied Bob on his credulity and Bob hadhugged his daughter to his heart's content.

"As good as gold," said Bob, "and better. Somehow he10gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinksthe strangest things you ever heard. He told me, cominghome, that he hoped the people saw him in the church,because he was a cripple and it might be pleasant to themto remember, upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars15walk and blind men see."

Bob's voice was tremulous when he told them this, andtrembled more when he said that Tiny Tim was growingstrong and hearty.

His active little crutch was heard upon the floor and20back came Tiny Tim before another word was spoken,escorted by his brother and sister to his stool beside thefire; and while Bob, turning up his cuffs—as if, poorfellow, they were capable of being made more shabby—compoundedsome hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons25and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob tosimmer, Master Peter and the two ubiquitous youngCratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soonreturned in high procession.

Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a30goose the rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, towhich a black swan was a matter of course—and in truthit was something very like it, in that house. Mrs. Cratchitmade the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan)hissing hot; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incrediblevigor; Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple sauce;Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside5him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchitsset chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, andmounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons intotheir mouths lest they should shriek for goose before theirturn came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on10and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathlesspause, as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carvingknife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when shedid, and when the long-expected gush of stuffing issuedforth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board,15and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits,beat on the table with the handle of his knife and feeblycried, "Hurrah!"

There never was such a goose cooked. Its tendernessand flavor, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal20admiration. Eked out by apple sauce and mashed potatoes,it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family;indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveyingone small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn't eatenit all at last! Yet everyone had had enough, and the25youngest Cratchits, in particular, were steeped in sage andonion to the eyebrows! But now the plates being changedby Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone—toonervous to bear witnesses—to take the pudding up, andbring it in.30

Suppose it should not be done enough! Suppose itshould break in turning out! Suppose somebody shouldhave got over the wall of the back yard and stolen it, whilethey were merry with the goose—a supposition at whichthe two young Cratchits became livid! All sorts of horrorswere supposed.

Halloo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was out5of the copper. A smell like a washing day! That was thecloth. A smell like an eating house and a pastry cook'snext door to each other, with a laundress's next door tothat! That was the pudding! In half a minute Mrs.Cratchit entered—flushed, but smiling proudly—with10the pudding, like a speckled cannon ball, so hard andfirm, blazing in half of half a quartern of ignited brandyand bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top.

Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, andcalmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success15achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs.Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, shewould confess she had had her doubts about the quantityof flour. Everybody had something to say about it, butnobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for20a large family. It would have been flat heresy to do so.Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.

At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, thehearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in thejug being tasted and considered perfect, apples and oranges25were put upon the table and a shovelful of chestnuts on thefire. Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearthin what Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one;and at Bob Cratchit's elbow stood the family display ofglass—two tumblers and a custard cup without a handle.30

These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well asgolden goblets would have done; and Bob served it outwith beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputteredand cracked noisily. Then Bob proposed:

"A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!"

Which all the family reëchoed.

"God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.5

—A Christmas Carol.

1. A few days before Christmas you should read Dickens'sA Christmas Carol. It is one of the best, if not the best, Christmas story ever written. How does Dickens make you feel while you read this selection? How many people are present at the Cratchits'? To whom does your sympathy go?2. Select a list of words and phrases that suggest happiness. How does Dickens make you wish you were at the Cratchit feast?3. Appoint a committee of three from your class to report fully on Dickens's life and writings. Take brief notes on their report.

2. Select a list of words and phrases that suggest happiness. How does Dickens make you wish you were at the Cratchit feast?

3. Appoint a committee of three from your class to report fully on Dickens's life and writings. Take brief notes on their report.

Twelve o'clock.—A knock at my door; a poorgirl comes in and greets me by name. At first Ido not recall her, but she looks at me and smiles. Ah, it isPaulette! But it is nearly a year since I have seen her,and Paulette is no longer the same; the other day she was5a child; to-day she is almost a young woman.

Paulette is thin, pale, and miserably clad; but she hasalways the same open and straightforward look—the samemouth, smiling at every word as if to plead for sympathy—thesame voice, timid yet caressing. Paulette is not10pretty—she is even thought plain; as for me, I think hercharming. Perhaps that is not on her account but on myown. Paulette is a part of one of my happiest recollections.

It was the evening of a public holiday. Our principalbuildings were lighted with festoons of fire, a thousandflags floated in the night wind, and the fireworks had justshot forth their jets of flame in the midst of theChamp deMars. Suddenly one of those unaccountable panics which5seize a multitude falls upon the dense crowd; they cry out,they rush on headlong; the weaker ones fall and thefrightened crowd tramples them down in its convulsivestruggles. Escaping from the confusion by a miracle, Iwas hastening away when the cries of a perishing child10arrested me; I went back into that human chaos andafter unheard-of exertions I brought Paulette away at theperil of my life.

That was two years ago; since then I had seen the childonly at long intervals and had almost forgotten her; but15Paulette had a grateful heart, and she came at the beginningof the year to bring me her good wishes. She broughtme, too, a wallflower in full bloom; she herself had plantedand reared it; it was something that belonged wholly toherself, for it was because of her care, her perseverance,20and her patience that it was hers.

The wallflower had grown in a common pot; but Paulette,who is a bandbox maker, had put it into a case ofvarnished paper ornamented with arabesques. Thesemight have been in better taste, but I felt the good will25none the less.

This unexpected present, the little girl's modest blushes,the compliments she stammered out, dispelled, as by asunbeam, the mist which had gathered round my heart;my thoughts suddenly changed from the leaden tints of30evening to the rosiest colors of dawn. I made Paulettesit down and questioned her with a light heart.

At first the little girl replied by monosyllables; butvery soon the tables were turned and it was I who interruptedwith short interjections her long confidences. Thepoor child leads a hard life. She was left an orphan longago and with a brother and sister lives with an old grandmother,5who hasbrought them up to poverty, as she says.

However Paulette now helps her to make bandboxes, herlittle sister Perrine begins to sew, and her brother Henriis apprenticed to a printer. All would go well if it were notfor losses and want of work—if it were not for clothes which10wear out, for appetites which grow larger, and for thewinter, when you must buy your sunshine. Paulette complainsthat candles go too quickly and that the wood coststoo much. The fireplace in their garret is so large that afagot produces no more effect than a match; it is so near15the roof that the wind blows down the rain and in winterit hails upon the hearth; so they have given up using it.Henceforth they must be content with an earthen chafingdish, upon which they cook their meals. The grandmotherhad often spoken of a stove that was for sale at the huckster's20on the ground floor, but he asked seven francs for itand the times are too hard for such an expense; the family,therefore, resign themselves to cold for economy's sake!

As Paulette spoke I felt more and more that I was risingabove my low spirits. The first disclosures of the little25bandbox maker created within me a wish that soon becamea plan. I questioned her about her daily occupations andshe told me that on leaving me she must go with her brother,her sister, and her grandmother, to the different people forwhom they work. My plan was immediately settled. I30told the child that I would go to see her in the evening,and I sent her away, thanking her anew.

I placed the wallflower in the open window, where a rayof sunshine bade it welcome; the birds were singing around,the sky had cleared, and the day which began so gloomilyhad become bright. I sang as I moved about my room,and having hastily got ready I went out.5

Three o'clock.—All is settled with my neighbor, thechimney doctor; he will repair my old stove, the old stovewhich I had replaced, and promises to make it as good asnew. At five o'clock we are going to put it up in Paulette'sgrandmother's room.10

Midnight.—All has gone well. At the hour agreedupon I was at the old bandbox maker's; she was still out.My Piedmontese fixed the stove, while I arranged in thegreat fireplace a dozen logs borrowed from my winter'sstock. I shall make up for them by warming myself with15walking or by going to bed earlier.

My heart beat at every step which was heard on thestaircase; I trembled lest they should interrupt me in mypreparations and should thus spoil my intended surprise.But no—everything is ready; the lighted stove murmurs20gently, the little lamp burns upon the table, and a bottleof oil for it is provided on the shelf. The chimney doctoris gone. Now my fear lest they should come is changedinto impatience at their delay. At last I hear children'svoices; here they are! They push open the door and25rush in—but they stop with cries of astonishment.

At sight of the lamp, the stove, and the visitor whostands there like a magician in the midst of these wonders,they draw back almost frightened. Paulette is the first tounderstand, and the arrival of the grandmother, mounting30the stairs more slowly, finishes the explanation. Then cometears, ecstasies, thanks!

Surprises are not over yet. The little sister opens theoven and discovers some chestnuts just roasted; thegrandmother puts her hand on the bottles of cider arrangedon the dresser; and I draw forth from the basket that Ihave hidden, a cold tongue, a wedge-shaped piece of butter,5and some fresh rolls.

Now their wonder turns into admiration; the little familyhave never taken part in such a feast! They lay the cloth,they sit down, they eat; it is a perfect festival for all, andeach contributes his share. I had brought only the supper;10the bandbox maker and the children supplied the enjoyment.

What bursts of laughter at nothing! What a hubbub ofquestions which waited for no reply, of replies which answeredno question! The old woman herself shared in thewild merriment of the little ones! I have always wondered15at the ease with which the poor forget their wretchedness.Accustomed to live in the present, they use every pleasureas soon as it offers itself. But the rich, blunted by luxury,gain happiness less easily. They must have all things inharmony before they consent to be happy.20

The evening passed like a moment. The old woman hastold me the story of her life, sometimes smiling, sometimescrying. Perrine has sung an old ballad with herfresh young voice. Henri has told us what he knows ofthe great writers of the day, whose proofs he has to carry.25At last we were obliged to separate, not without newthanks on the part of the happy family.

I have come home slowly, with a full heart, thinkingover the pure memories of this evening. It has given mecomfort and much instruction. Now the years can come30and go. I know that no one is so unhappy as to havenothing to receive and nothing to give.

As I came in I met my rich neighbor's new equipage.She too had just returned from her evening party; and asshe sprang from the carriage step with feverish impatience,I heard her murmur, "At last!"

I, when I left Paulette's family, said, "So soon!"5

1. Is this a Christmas story? Give reasons for your answer. Is its title fitting? What in the story itself suggests the time of year? Where do the events take place? Contrast this story with "The Cratchits' Christmas," preceding, as to (a) kind of people; (b) place; (c) the chief actor; (d) the feast itself; (e) the manner of telling.2. Describe Paulette's family. How did they make a living? How had the author become acquainted with Paulette?3. Émile Souvestre (soo-ves-tr´) was a French novelist and dramatist (1806-1854). His chief works deal with his native Brittany, but his last book has in it charming studies of Paris life.

2. Describe Paulette's family. How did they make a living? How had the author become acquainted with Paulette?

3. Émile Souvestre (soo-ves-tr´) was a French novelist and dramatist (1806-1854). His chief works deal with his native Brittany, but his last book has in it charming studies of Paris life.

Here is a Christmas story of the northland, in which cities give way to pine woods, and people to silences and snow. Get the picture each stanza portrays as you read through the poem, and make a mental comparison with snow scenes with which you are familiar.

The sky was clear all yesterday,From dawn until the sunset's flame;But when the red had grown to gray,Out of the west the snow clouds came.At midnight by the dying fire,5Watching the spruce boughs glow and pale,I heard outside a tumult dire,And the fierce roaring of the gale.Now with the morning comes a lull;The sun shines boldly in the eastUpon a world made beautifulIn vesture for the Christmas feast.Into the pathless waste I go,5With muffled step among the pinesThat, robed in sunlight and soft snow,Stand like a thousand radiant shrines.Save for a lad's song, far and faint,There is no sound in all the wood;10The murmuring pines are still; their plaintAt last was heard and understood.Here floats no chime of Christmas bell,There is no voice to give me cheer;But through the pine wood all is well,15For God and love and peace are here.

1. What does each of the first three stanzas portray? The last three stanzas describe the sights and sounds as seen by whom?2. Explain what pictures these phrases make for you: "sunset's flame"; "spruce boughs glow and pale"; "tumult dire"; "beautiful In vesture"; "muffled step"; "radiant shrines." Read lines 11 and 12, putting the thought in your own words.3. Make a Christmas card, sketching one of the scenes suggested above as the corner or center decoration.4. Meredith Nicholson (1866- ) is an American writer. He is the author of several popular novels, an essayist, and a writer of excellent verse. He lives in Indianapolis.

1. What does each of the first three stanzas portray? The last three stanzas describe the sights and sounds as seen by whom?

2. Explain what pictures these phrases make for you: "sunset's flame"; "spruce boughs glow and pale"; "tumult dire"; "beautiful In vesture"; "muffled step"; "radiant shrines." Read lines 11 and 12, putting the thought in your own words.

3. Make a Christmas card, sketching one of the scenes suggested above as the corner or center decoration.

4. Meredith Nicholson (1866- ) is an American writer. He is the author of several popular novels, an essayist, and a writer of excellent verse. He lives in Indianapolis.

("Christmas in the Pines" is used by special courtesy of Mr. Nicholson.)

The following essay is a humorous treatment of the days of the year, with emphasis on the holidays and special days in the English calendar. You should read it with a sharp lookout for the play on words. Each day supposedly acts in keeping with its character, and so the New Year's dinner party is kept in high mirth. But you cannot appreciate the humor until you understand what each day stands for.

The Old Year being dead, the New Year came of age,which he does by Calendar Law as soon as the breathis out of the old gentleman's body. Nothing would servethe youth but he must give a dinner upon the occasion, towhich all the Days of the Year were invited.5

The Festivals, whom he appointed as his stewards, weremightily taken with the notion. They had been engagedtime out of mind, they said, in providing mirth and cheerfor mortals below; and it was time that they should havea taste of their bounty.10

All the Days came to dinner. Covers were provided forthree hundred and sixty-five guests at the principal table,with an occasional knife and fork at the sideboard for theTwenty-ninth of February.

I should have told you that invitations had been sent out.15The carriers were the Hours—twelve as merry little whirligigfoot pages as you should desire to see. They went allaround, and found out the persons invited well enough,with the exception of Easter Day, Shrove Tuesday, and afew such Movables, who had lately shifted their quarters.20

Well, they were all met at last, four Days, five Days, allsorts of Days, and a rare din they made of it. There wasnothing but "Hail! fellow Day!" "Well met, brotherDay! sister Day!"—only Lady Day kept a little on thealoof and seemed somewhat scornful. Yet some said that5Twelfth Day cut her out, for she came in a silk suit, whiteand gold, like a queen on a frost cake, all royal andglittering.

The rest came, some in green, some in white—but Lentand his family were not yet out of mourning. Rainy Days10came in dripping, and Sunshiny Days helped them tochange their stockings. Wedding Day was there in hismarriage finery. Pay Day came late, as he always does.Doomsday sent word he might be expected.

April Fool (as my lord's jester) took upon himself to15marshal the guests. And wild work he made of it; goodDays, bad Days, all were shuffled together. He had stuckthe Twenty-first of June next to the Twenty-second ofDecember, and the former looked like a maypole by the sideof a marrowbone. Ash Wednesday got wedged in betwixt20Christmas and Lord Mayor's Day.

At another part of the table, Shrove Tuesday was helpingthe Second of September to some broth, which courtesythe latter returned with the delicate thigh of a pheasant.The Last of Lent was springing upon Shrovetide's pancakes;25April Fool, seeing this, told him that he did well, for pancakeswere proper to a good fry-day.

May Day, with that sweetness which is her own, made aneat speech proposing the health of the founder. Thisbeing done, the lordly New Year from the upper end of30the table, in a cordial but somewhat lofty tone, returnedthanks.

They next fell to quibbles and conundrums. The questionbeing proposed, who had the greatest number of followers—theQuarter Days said there could be no questionas to that; for they had all the creditors in the worlddogging their heels. But April Fool gave it in favor of the5Forty Days before Easter; because the debtors in all casesoutnumbered the creditors, and they kept Lent all the year.

At last, dinner being ended, all the Days called fortheir cloaks and greatcoats, and took their leaves. LordMayor's Day went off in a Mist, as usual; Shortest Day10in a deep black Fog, which wrapped the little gentlemanall round like a hedgehog.

Two Vigils, or watchmen, saw Christmas Day safe home.Another Vigil—a stout, sturdy patrol, called the Eve ofSt. Christopher—escorted Ash Wednesday.15

Longest Day set off westward in beautiful crimson andgold—the rest, some in one fashion some in another, tooktheir departure.

—Last Essays of Elia.

1. Lord Mayor's Day falls on November 9. Explain the reference to Mist. Quarter Day is the day usually looked upon as the day rent falls due. Why did April Fool decide against the Quarter Days in behalf of the Forty Days before Easter? The Second of September is the beginning of the open season for shooting. Explain the reference to "pheasant."2. How many were at this feast? Why did the Festivals come? Why have only twelve carriers, in the fourth paragraph? Explain how April Fool added to the merriment in seating the guests. What pun did April Fool make?3. What American holidays would you add if you were writing this essay? How could you make them fit in humorously?4. Charles Lamb (1775-1834), English essayist, is noted for his humorous sketches. You should read his "Dissertation on Roast Pig" With his sister Mary, he wroteTales from Shakespeare, which you will enjoy reading.

2. How many were at this feast? Why did the Festivals come? Why have only twelve carriers, in the fourth paragraph? Explain how April Fool added to the merriment in seating the guests. What pun did April Fool make?

3. What American holidays would you add if you were writing this essay? How could you make them fit in humorously?

4. Charles Lamb (1775-1834), English essayist, is noted for his humorous sketches. You should read his "Dissertation on Roast Pig" With his sister Mary, he wroteTales from Shakespeare, which you will enjoy reading.

Abraham Lincoln enjoyed telling stories of his youth and early manhood, but he wrote very little about himself. The following is the longest statement he has set down anywhere about his own life. And he did this only at the earnest request of a fellow citizen in Illinois, Mr. Fell. You should read this brief autobiography with two things in mind: the facts of Lincoln's life, and the simplicity and modesty of the statement of these facts.

I was born February 12, 1809, in Hardin County, Kentucky.My parents were both born in Virginia, ofundistinguished families—second families, perhaps Ishould say. My mother, who died in my tenth year, wasof a family of the name of Hanks, some of whom now reside5in Adams, and others in Macon County, Illinois. Mypaternal grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, emigrated fromRockingham County, Virginia, to Kentucky about 1781or 1782, where a year or two later he was killed by theIndians, not in battle, but by stealth, when he was laboring10to open a farm in the forest. His ancestors, who wereQuakers, went to Virginia from Berks County, Pennsylvania.An effort to identify them with the New Englandfamily of the same name ended in nothing more definitethan a similarity of Christian names in both families, such15as Enoch, Levi, Mordecai, Solomon, Abraham, and the like.

My father, at the death of his father, was but six years ofage, and he grew up literally without education. He removedfrom Kentucky to what is now Spencer County,Indiana, in my eighth year. We reached our new homeabout the time the state came into the Union. It was awild region, with many bears and other wild animals stillin the woods. There I grew up. There were some schools,so called, but no qualification was ever required of a teacher5beyond "readin', writin', and cipherin'" to the rule of three.If a straggler supposed to understand Latin happened tosojourn in the neighborhood, he was looked upon as awizard. There was absolutely nothing to excite ambitionfor education. Of course, when I came of age I did not10know much. Still, somehow, I could read, write, andcipher to the rule of three, but that was all. I have notbeen to school since. The little advance I now have uponthis store of education I have picked up from time to timeunder the pressure of necessity.15

I was raised to farm work, which I continued till I wastwenty-two. At twenty-one I came to Illinois, MaconCounty. Then I got to New Salem, at that time in Sangamon,now in Menard County, where I remained a year as asort of clerk in a store.20

Then came the Black Hawk war, and I was elected a captainof volunteers, a success which gave me more pleasurethan any I have had since. I went the campaign, waselated, ran for the legislature the same year (1832), and wasbeaten—the only time I have ever been beaten by the25people. The next and three succeeding biennial electionsI was elected to the legislature. I was not a candidateafterward. During this legislative period I had studiedlaw, and removed to Springfield to practice it. In 1846 Iwas once elected to the lower house of Congress. Was30not a candidate for reëlection. From 1849 to 1854, bothinclusive, practiced law more assiduously than ever before.Always Whig in politics; and generally on the Whigelectoral tickets, making active canvasses. I was losinginterest in politics when the repeal of the Missouri Compromisearoused me again. What I have done since thenis pretty well known.5

If any personal description of me is thought desirable,it may be said I am, in height, six feet four inches, nearly;lean in flesh, weighing on an average one hundred andeighty pounds; dark complexion, with coarse black hairand gray eyes. No other marks or brands recollected.10

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