An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving
By Louisa May Alcott

November, 1881

SIXTYYEARS AGO, up among the New Hampshire hills, lived Farmer
Bassett, with a houseful of sturdy sons and daughters growing up
about him. They were poor in money, but rich in land and love,
for the wide acres of wood, corn, and pasture land fed, warmed,
and clothed the flock, while mutual patience, affection, and courage made
the old farmhouse a very happy home.

Novemberhad 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 a jolly place just now, for in the
great fireplace roared a cheerful 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 in those
days deer still haunted the deep forests, and hunters flourished.
Savory smells were in the air; on the crane hung steaming kettles,
and down among the red embers copper saucepans simmered, all suggestive
of some approaching feast.

Awhite-headed baby lay in the old blue cradle that had rocked
six other babies, now and then lifting his head to look out, like
a round, full moon, then subsided to kick and crow contentedly,
and suck the rosy apple he had no teeth to bite. Two small boys
sat on the wooden settle shelling corn for popping, and picking
out the biggest nuts from the goodly store their own hands had
gathered in 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 as fast as their hands.
Farmer Bassett, and Eph, the oldest boy, were "chorin' 'round"
outside, for Thanksgiving was at hand, and all must be in order
for that time-honored day.

Toand fro, from table to hearth, bustled buxom Mrs. Bassett,
flushed and floury, but busy and blithe as the queen bee of this
busy little hive should be.

"Ido like to begin seasonable and have things to my mind.
Thanksgivin' dinners can't be drove, and it does take a sight
of victuals to fill all these hungry stomicks," said the good
woman, as she gave a vigorous stir to the great kettle of cider
applesauce, and cast a glance of housewifely pride at the fine
array of pies set forth on the buttery shelves.

"Onlyone 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 things come," confided Seth
to Sol, as he cracked a large hazelnut as easily as a squirrel.

"Noneed of my starvin' beforehand. I always have room enough,
and I'd like to have Thanksgiving every day," answered Solomon,
gloating like a young ogre over the little pig that lay near by,
ready for roasting.

"Sakesalive, I don't, boys! It's a marcy it don't come but
once a year. I should be worn to a thread paper with all this extra
work atop of my winter weavin' and spinnin'," laughed their mother,
as she plunged her plump arms into the long bread trough and began
to knead the dough as if a famine were at hand.

Tilly,the oldest girl, a red-cheeked, black-eyed lass of fourteen,
was grinding briskly at the mortar, for spices were costly, and
not a grain must be wasted. Prue kept time with the chopper, and
the twins sliced away at the apples till their little brown arms
ached, for all knew how to work, and did so now with a will.

"Ithink it's real fun to have Thanksgiving at home. I'm sorry
Gran'ma is sick, so we can't go there as usual, but I like to mess
'round here, don't you, girls?" asked Tilly, pausing to take a
sniff at the spicy pestle.

"Itwill 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 their brothers.

"Idon't care a mite for all that. It will be so nice to
eat dinner together, warm and comfortable at home," said quiet
Prue, who loved her own cozy nooks like a cat.

"Come,girls, fly 'round and get your chores done, so we can
clear away for dinner jest as soon as I clap my bread into the
oven," called Mrs. Bassett presently, as she rounded off the last
loaf of brown bread which was to feed the hungry mouths that seldom
tasted any other.

"Here'sa man comin' up the hill lively!" "Guess it's Gad
Hopkins. Pa told him to bring a dezzen oranges, if they warn't
too high!" shouted Sol and Seth, running to the door, while the
girls smacked their lips at the thought of this rare treat, and
Baby threw his apple overboard, as if getting ready for a new cargo.

Butall were doomed to disappointment, for it was not Gad,
with the much-desired fruit. It was a stranger, who threw himself
off his horse and hurried up to Mr. Bassett in the yard, with some
brief message that made the farmer drop his ax and look so sober
that his wife guessed at once some bad news had come; and crying,
"Mother's wuss! I know she is!" Out ran the good woman, forgetful of
the flour on her arms and the oven waiting for its most important
batch.

Theman 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 come today. He knew no more, and having
delivered his errand he rode away, saying it looked like snow and
he must be jogging, or he wouldn't get home till night.

"Wemust go right off, Eldad. Hitch up, and I'll be ready
in less'n no time," said Mrs. Bassett, wasting not a minute in
tears and lamentations, but pulling off her apron as she went in,
with her head in a sad jumble of bread, anxiety, turkey, sorrow,
haste, and cider applesauce.

Afew words told the story, and the children left their work
to help her get ready, mingling their grief for "Gran'ma" with
regrets for the lost dinner.

"I'mdreadful sorry, dears, but it can't be helped. I couldn't
cook nor eat no way now, and if that blessed woman gets better
sudden, as she has before, we'll have cause for thanksgivin', and
I'll give you a dinner you won't forget in a hurry," said Mrs.
Bassett, as she tied on her brown silk pumpkin-hood, with a sob
for the good old mother who had made it for her.

Nota child complained after that, but ran about helpfully,
bringing moccasins, heating the footstone, and getting ready
for a long drive, because Gran'ma lived twenty miles away, and
there were no railroads in those parts to whisk people to and fro
like magic. By the time the old yellow sleigh was at the door,
the bread was in the oven, and Mrs. Bassett was waiting, with her
camlet cloak on, and the baby done up like a small bale of blankets.

"Now,Eph, you must look after the cattle like a man and keep
up the fires, for there's a storm brewin', and' neither the children
nor dumb critters must suffer," said Mr. Bassett, as he turned
up the collar of his rough coat and put on his blue mittens, while
the old mare shook her bells as if she preferred a trip to Keene
to hauling wood all day.

"Tilly,put extry comfortables on the beds to-night, the wind
is so searchin' up chamber. Have the baked beans and Injun-puddin'
for dinner, and whatever you do, don't let the boys get at the
mince-pies, or you'll have them down sick. I shall come back the
minute I can leave Mother. Pa will come to-morrer anyway, so keep
snug and be 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 and driven away, leaving
a stream of directions behind her.

Eph,the sixteen-year-old boy, immediately put on his biggest
boots, assumed a sober, responsible manner and surveyed his little
responsibilities with a paternal air, drolly like his father's.
Tilly tied on her mother's bunch of keys, rolled up the sleeves
of her homespun gown, and began to order about the younger girls.
They soon forgot poor Granny, and found it great fun to keep house
all alone, for Mother seldom left home, but ruled her family in
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 happily together with no wages but love;
learning in the best manner the use of the heads and hands with
which they were to make their own way in the world.

Thefew flakes that caused the farmer to predict bad weather
soon increased to a regular snowstorm, with gusts of 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 whirling white storm outside.

Tillygot them a good dinner, and when it was over the two
elder girls went to their spinning, for in the kitchen stood the
big and little wheels, and baskets of wool rolls ready to be twisted
into yarn for the winter's knitting, and each day brought its stint
of work to the daughters, who hoped to be as thrifty as their mother.

Ephkept up a glorious fire, and superintended the small boys,
who popped corn and whittled boats on the hearth; while Roxy and
Rhody dressed corncob dolls in the settle corner, and Bose, the
brindled mastiff, lay on the braided mat, luxuriously warming his
old legs. Thus employed, they made a pretty picture, these rosy
boys and girls, in their homespun suits, with the rustic toys or
tasks which most children nowadays would find very poor or tiresome.

Tillyand Prue sang, as they stepped to and fro, drawing out
the smoothly twisted threads to the musical hum of the great spinning
wheels. The little girls chattered like magpies over their dolls
and the new bedspread they were planning to make, all white dimity
stars on a blue calico ground, as a Christmas present to Ma. The
boys roared at Eph's jokes, and had rough and tumble games over
Bose, who didn't mind them in the least; and so the afternoon wore
pleasantly away.

Atsunset the boys went out to feed the cattle, bring in heaps
of wood, and lock up for the night, as the lonely farmhouse seldom
had visitors after dark. The girls got the simple supper of brown
bread and milk, baked apples, and a doughnut all 'round as a treat.
Then they sat before the fire, the sisters knitting, the brothers
with books or games, for Eph loved reading, and Sol and Seth never failed
to play a few games of Morris with barley corns, on the little
board they had themselves at one corner of the dresser.

"Readout a piece," said Tilly from Mother's chair, where
she sat in state, finishing off the sixth woolen sock she had knit
that month.

"It'sthe 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 Lady Matildy
I was named for, and Lord Bassett, Pa's great-great-great grandpa.
He's only a farmer now, but it's nice to know we were somebody
two or three hundred years ago," said Tilly, bridling and tossing
her curly head as she fancied the Lady Matilda might have done.

"Don'tread 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 in prison,
Lord Bassett was a true friend to him," began Eph, plunging into
his story without delay. "The lord had some papers that would
have hung a lot of people if the king's enemies got hold of 'em,
so when he heard one day, all of a sudden, that soldiers were
at the castle gate to carry him off, he had just time to call his
girl to him and say: 'I may be going to my death, but I won't betray
my master. There is no time to burn the papers, and I can not take
them with me; they are hidden in the old leathern chair where I
sit. No one knows this but you, and you must guard them till I
come or send you a safe messenger to take them away. Promise me
to be brave and silent, and I can go without fear.' You see, he
wasn't afraid to die, but he was to seem a traitor. Lady Matildy
promised solemnly, and the words were hardly out of her mouth when
the men came in, and her father was carried away a prisoner and
sent off to the Tower."

"Butshe didn't cry; she just called her brother, and sat down
in that chair, with her head leaning back on those papers, like
a queen, and waited while the soldiers hunted the house over for
'em: wasn't that a smart girl?" cried Tilly, beaming with pride,
for she was named for this ancestress, and knew the story by
heart.

"Ireckon she was scared, though, when the men came swearin
in and asked her if she knew anything about it. The boy did his
part then, for he didn't know, and fired up and stood before his
sister; and he says, says he, as bold as a lion: 'If my lord had
told us where the papers be, we would die before we would betray
him. But we are children and know nothing, and it is cowardly of
you to try to fight us with oaths and drawn swords!'"

AsEph quoted from the book, Seth planted himself before Tilly,
with the long poker in his hand, saying, as he flourished it valiantly:

"Whydidn't the boy take his father's sword and lay about
him? I would, if any one was ha'sh to Tilly."

"Youbantam! He was only a bit of a boy, and couldn't do 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 pie at dinner next day, as reward for his
chivalry.

"Well,the men went off after turning the castle out of window,
but they said they should come again; so faithful Matildy was
full of trouble, and hardly dared to leave the room where the chair
stood. All day she sat there, and at night her sleep was so full
of fear about it, that she often got up and went to see that all
was safe. The servants thought the fright had hurt her wits, and
let her be, but Rupert, the boy, stood by her and never was afraid
of her queer ways. She was 'a pious maid,' the book says, and often
spent the long evenings reading the Bible, with her brother by
her, all alone in the great room, with no one to help her bear
her secret, and no good news of her father. At last, word came
that the king was dead and his friends banished out of England.
Then the poor children were in a sad plight, for they had no mother,
and the servants all ran away, leaving only one faithful old
man to help them."

"Butthe father did come?" cried Roxy, eagerly.

"You'llsee," continued Eph, half telling, half reading.
"Matilda was sure he would, so she sat on in the big chair, guarding
the papers, and no one could get her away, till one day a man came
with her father's ring and told her to give up the secret. She
knew the ring, but would not tell until she had asked many questions,
so as to be very sure, and while the man answered all about her
father and the king, she looked at him sharply. Then she stood
up and said, in a tremble, for there was something strange about
the man: 'Sir, I doubt you in spite of the ring, and I will not
answer till you pull off the false beard you wear, that I may see
your face and know if you are my father's friend or foe.' Off came
the disguise, and Matilda found it was my lord himself, come to
take them with him out of England. He was very proud of that faithful
girl, I guess, for the old chair still stands in the castle, and
the I name keeps in the family, Pa says, even over here, where some
of the Bassetts came along with the Pilgrims."

"OurTilly would have been as brave, I know, and she looks
like the old picter down to Gran' ma's, don't she, Eph?" cried
Prue, who admired her bold, bright sister very much.

"Well,I think you'd do the settin' part best, Prue, you are
so patient. Till would fight like a wild cat, but she can't hold
her tongue worth a cent" answered Eph; whereat Tilly pulled his
hair, and the story ended with a general frolic.

Whenthe moon-faced clock behind the door struck nine, Tilly
tucked up the children under the "extry cornfortables," and
having kissed them all around, as Mother did, crept into her own
nest, never minding the little drifts of snow that sifted in upon
her coverlet between the shingles of the roof, nor the storm that
raged without.

Asif he felt the need of unusual vigilance, old Bose lay down
on the mat before the door, and pussy had the warm hearth all to
herself. If any late wanderer had looked in at midnight, he would
have seen the fire blazing up again, and in the cheefful glow the
old cat blinking her yellow eyes, as she sat bolt upright beside
the spinning wheel, like some sort of household goblin, guarding
the children while they slept.

Whenthey woke, like early birds, it still snowed, but up 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 was off to the barn, and Tilly
soon had a great kettle of mush ready, which, with milk warm from
the cows made a wholesome breakfast for the seven hearty children.

"Nowabout dinner," said the young housekeeper, as the pewter
spoons stopped clattering, and the earthen bowls stood empty.

"Masaid, have what we liked, but she didn't expect us to
have a real Thanksgiving dinner, because she won't be here to cook
it, and we don't know how," began Prue, doubtfully.

"Ican roast a turkey and make a pudding as well as anybody,
I guess. The pies are all ready, and if we can't boil vegetables
and so on, we don't deserve any dinner," cried Tilly, burning
to distinguish herself, and bound to enjoy 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 if they ain't eaten
right up."

"Pais 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 she had undertaken.

"Didyou ever roast a turkey?" asked Roxy, with an air of
deep interest.

"Shouldyou darst to try?" said Rhody, in an awe-stricken
tone.

"Youwill see what I can do. Ma said I was to use my judgment
about things, and I'm going to. All you children have got to do
is to keep out of the way, and let Prue and me work. Eph, I wish
you'd put a fire in the best room, so the little ones can play
in there. We shall want the settin-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.

"Idon't know about that. Ma didn't tell us to," began cautious
Eph who felt that this invasion of the sacred best parlor was a
daring step.

"Don'twe 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 under my feet all the time? Come,
now, if you want roast turkey and onions, plum-puddin' and mince-
pie, you'll have to do as I tell you, and be lively about it."
Tillyspoke with such spirit, and her suggestion was so irresistible,
that Eph gave in, and, laughing good-naturedly, tramped away
to heat up the best room, devoutly hoping that nothing serious
would happen to punish such audacity.

Theyoung folks delightedly trooped away to destroy the order
of that prim apartment with housekeeping under the black horsehair
sofa, "horseback-riders" on the arms of the best rocking chair,
and an Indian war dance all over the well-waxed furniture. Eph,
finding the society of peaceful sheep and cows more to his mind
than that of two excited sisters, lingered over his chores in the
barn as long as possible, and left the girls in peace.

NowTilly and Prue were in their glory, and as soon as the breakfast
things were out of the way, they prepared for a grand cooking time.
They were handy girls, though they had never heard of a cooking
school, never touched a piano, and knew nothing of embroidery beyond
the samplers which hung framed in the parlor; one ornamented with
a pink mourner under a blue weeping willow, the other with this
pleasing verse, each word being done in a different color, which
gave the effect of a distracted rainbow:

Thissampler neat was worked by me,
In my twelfth year, Prudence B.

Bothrolled up their sleeves, put on their largest aprons,
and got out all the spoons, dishes, pots, and pans they could find,
"so as to have everything handy," Prue said.

"Now,sister, we'll have dinner at five; Pa will be here by
that time, if he is coming tonight, and be so surprised to find
us all ready, for he won't have had any very nice victuals if Gran'ma
is so sick," said Tilly, importantly. "I shall give the children
a piece at noon" (Tilly meant luncheon); "doughnuts and cheese,
with apple pie and cider, will please 'em. There's beans for
Eph; he likes cold pork, so we won't stop to warm it up, for there's
lots to do, and I don't mind saying to you I'm dreadful dubersome
about the turkey."

"It'sall ready but the stuffing, and roasting is as easy as
can be. I can baste first-rate. Ma always likes to have me, I'm
so patient and stiddy, she says," answered Prue, for the responsibility
of this great undertaking did not rest upon her, so she took a
cheerful view of things.

"Iknow, but it's the stuffin' that troubles me," said Tilly,
rubbing her round elbows as she eyed the immense fowl laid out
on a platter before her. "I don't know how much I want, nor what
sort of yarbs to put in, and he's so awful big, I'm kind of afraid
of him."

"Iain't! I fed him all summer, and he never gobbled at me.
I feel real mean to be thinking of gobbling him, poor old chap,
" laughed Prue, patting her departed pet with an air of mingled
affection and appetite.

"Well,I'll get the puddin' off my mind fust, for it ought
to bile all day. Put the big kettle on, and see that the spit is
clean, while I get ready."

Prueobediently tugged away at the crane, with its black hooks,
from which hung the iron teakettle and three-legged pot; then
she settled the long spit in the grooves made for it in the tall
andirons, and put the dripping pan underneath, for in those days
meat was roasted as it should be, not baked in ovens.

MeantimeTilly attacked the plum pudding. She felt pretty sure
of coming out right, here, for she had seen her mother do it so
many times, it looked very easy. So in went suet and fruit; all
sorts of spice, to be sure she got the right ones, and brandy instead
of wine. But she forgot both sugar and salt, and tied it in the
cloth so tightly that it had no room to swell, so it would come
out as heavy as lead and as hard as a cannonball, if the bag did
not burst and 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 its fate.

"Ican'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 I can't feel sure of anything
but pepper and salt for a turkey."

"Maputs in some kind of mint, I know, but I forget whether
it is spearmint, peppermint, or pennyroyal," answered Prue, in
a tone of doubt, but trying to show her knowledge of "yarbs,"
or, at least, of their names.

"Seemsto me it's sweet majoram or summer savory. I guess
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 mash the bread," commanded
Tilly, diving into the mess.

Awaytrotted Prue, but in her haste she got catnip and wormwood,
for the garret was darkish, and Prue's little nose was so full
of the smell of the onions she had been peeling, that everything
smelt of them. Eager to be of use, she pounded up the herbs and
scattered the mixture with a liberal hand into the bowl.

"Itdoesn't smell just right, but I suppose it will when it
is cooked," said Tilly, as she filled the empty stomach, that
seemed aching for food, and sewed it up with the blue yarn, which
happened to be handy. She forgot to tie down his legs and wings,
but she set him by till his hour came, well satisfied with her
work.

"Shallwe roast the little pig, too? I think he'd look nice with
a necklace of sausages, as Ma fixed him at Christmas," asked
Prue, elated with their success.

"Icouldn't do it. I loved that little pig, and cried when he
was killed. I should feel as if I was roasting the baby," answered
Tilly, glancing toward the buttery where piggy hung, looking so
pink and pretty it certainly did seem cruel to eat him.

Ittook a long time to get all the vegetables ready, for, as
the cellar was full, the girls thought they would have every sort.
Eph helped, and by noon all was ready for cooking, and the cranberry
sauce, a good deal scorched, was cooking in the lean-to.

Luncheonwas a lively meal, and doughnuts and cheese vanished
in such quantities that Tilly feared no one would have an appetite
for her sumptuous dinner. The boys assured her they would be starving
by five o'clock, and Sol mourned bitterly over the little pig that
was not to be served up.

"Nowyou all go and coast, while Prue and I set the table
and get out the best chiny," said Tilly, bent on having her dinner
look well, no matter what its other failings might be.

Outcame the rough sleds, on went the round hoods, old hats,
red cloaks, and moccasins, and away trudged the four younger Bassetts,
to disport themselves in the snow, and try the ice down by the
old mill, where the great wheel turned and splashed so merrily
in the summertime.

Ephtook his fiddle and scraped away to his heart's content
in the parlor, while the girls, after a short rest, set the table
and made all ready to dish up the dinner when that exciting moment
came. It was not at all the sort of table 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 pewter platters,
scoured till they shone, with mugs and spoons to match, and a
brown jug for the cider. The cloth was coarse, but white as snow,
and the little maids had seen the blue-eyed flax grow, out of
which their mother wove the linen; they had watched and watched
while it bleached in the green meadow. They had no napkins and little
silver; but the best tankard and Ma's few wedding spoons were set
forth in state. Nuts and apples at the corners gave an air, and
the place of honor was left in the middle for the oranges yet to
come.

"Don'tit look beautiful?" said Prue, when they paused to
admire the general effect.

"Prettynice, I think. I wish Ma could see how well we can
do it," began Tilly, when a loud howling startled both girls,
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 through the gathering dusk, they saw four small
black figures tearing up the road, to come bursting in, all screaming
at once: "The bear, the bear! Eph, get the gun! He's coming, he's
coming!"

Ephhad dropped his fiddle, and got down his gun before the
girls could calm the children enough to tell their story, which
they did in a somewhat incoherent manner. "Down in the holler,
coastin', we heard a growl," began Sol, with his eyes as big
as saucers. "I see him fust lookin' over the wall," roared Seth,
eager to get his share of honor.

"Awfulbig and shaggy," quavered Roxy, clinging to Tilly,
while Rhody hid in Prue's skirts, and piped out:

"Hisgreat paws kept clawing at us, and I was so scared my
legs would hardly go."

"Weran away as fast as we could go, and he came growlin'
after us. He's awful hungry, and he'll eat every one of us if he
gets in," continued Sol, looking about him for 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 their surest
shelter.

"Nodanger of that, you little geese. I'll shoot him as soon
as he comes. Get out of the way, boys," and Eph raised the window
to get good aim.

"Therehe is! Fire away, and don't miss!" cried Seth, hastily
following Sol, who had climbed to the top of the dresser as a good
perch from which to view the approaching fray.

Prueretired to the hearth as if bent on dying at her post
rather than desert the turkey, now "browning beautiful," as
she expressed it. But Tilly boldly stood at the open window, ready
to lend a hand if the enemy proved too much for Eph.

Allhad seen bears, but none had ever come so near before,
and even brave Eph felt that the big brown beast slowly trotting
up the dooryard was an unusually formidable specimen. He was growling
horribly, and stopped now and then as if to rest and shake himself.

"Getthe ax, Tilly, and if I should miss, stand ready to keep
him off while I load again," said Eph, anxious to kill his first
bear in style and alone; a girl's help didn't count.

Tillyflew for the ax, and was at her brother's side by the
time the bear was near enough to be dangerous. He stood on his
hind legs, and seemed to sniff with relish the savory odors that
poured out of the window.

"Fire,Eph!" cried Tilly, firmly.

"Waittill he rears again. I'll get a better shot then"
answered the boy, while Prue covered her ears to shut out the bang,
and the small boys cheered from their dusty refuge among the
pumpkins.

Buta very singular thing happened next, and all who saw it
stood amazed, for suddenly Tilly threw down the ax, flung open
the door, and ran straight into the arms of the 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'sGad Hopkins, tryin' to fool us!" cried Eph, much disgusted
at the loss of his prey, for these hardy boys loved to hunt and
prided themselves on the number of wild 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 the other drew a
dozen oranges from some deep pocket in the buffalo-skin coat, and
fired them into the kitchen with such good aim that Eph ducked,
Prue screamed, and Sol and Seth came down much quicker than they
went up.

"Wal,you see I got upsot over yonder, and the old horse went
home while I was floundering in a drift, so I tied on the buffalers
to tote 'em easy, and come along till I 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'dhave had a warm welcome if we hadn't found you out.
I'd have put a bullet through you in a jiffy, old chap," said
Eph, coming out to shake hands with the young giant, who was only
a year or two older than himself.

"Comein and set up to dinner with us. Prue and I have done
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 I don't
get along home, sence the horse and sleigh have gone ahead empty
I've done my arrant and had my joke; now I want my pay, Tilly,"
and Gad took a hearty kiss from the rosy cheeks of his "little
sweetheart," as he called her. His own cheeks tingled with the
smart slap she gave him as she ran away, calling out that she hated
bears and would bring her ax next time.

"Iain't afeared--your sharp eyes found me out: and ef you
run into a bear's arms you must expect a hug," answered Gad,
as he pushed back the robe and settled his fur cap more becomingly.

"Ishould have known you in a minute if I hadn't been asleep
when the girls squalled. You did it well, though, and I advise
you not to try it again in a hurry, or you'll get shot," said
Eph, as they parted, he rather crestfallen and Gad in high glee.

"Mysakes alive--the turkey is all burnt one side, and the
kettles have biled over so the pies I put to warm are all ashes!"
scolded Tilly, as the flurry subsided and she remembered her dinner.

"Well,I can't help it. I couldn't think of victuals when I
expected to be eaten alive myself, could I?" pleaded poor Prue,
who had tumbled into the cradle when the rain of oranges began.

Tillylaughed, and all the rest joined in, so goodhumor was
restored, and the spirits of the younger ones were revived by sucks
from the one orange which passed from hand to hand with great rapidity
while the older girls dished up the dinner. They were just struggling
to get the pudding out of the cloth when Roxy called out: "Here's Pa!"
"There'sfolks with him," added Rhody.

"Lotsof 'em! I see two big sleighs chock full," shouted Seth,
peering through the dusk.

"Itlooks like a semintary. Guess Gran'ma's dead and come
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 their festival.

"Ifthat is a funeral, the mourners are uncommonly jolly,"
said Eph, dryly, as merry voices and loud laughter broke the white
silence without.

"Isee Aunt Cinthy, and Cousin Hetty--and there's Mose and
Amos. I do declare, Pa's bringin' 'em all home to have some fun
here," cried Prue, as she recognized one familiar face after another.

"Oh,my patience! Ain't I glad I got dinner, and don't I hope
it will turn out good!" exclaimed Tilly, while the twins pranced
with delight, and the small boys roared:

"Hoorayfor Pa! Hooray for Thanksgivin'!"

Thecheer was answered heartily, and in came Father, Mother,
Baby, aunts, and cousins, all in great spirits; and all much surprised
to find such a festive welcome awaiting them.

"Ain'tGran'ma dead at all?" asked Sol, in the midst of the
kissing and handshaking.

"Blessyour 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 she wanted me to come down today, certain
sure, he got the message all wrong, and give it to the fust person
passin' in such a way as to scare me 'most to death, and send us down
in a hurry. Mother was sittin' up as chirk as you please, and dreadful
sorry you didn't all come."

"So,to keep the house quiet for her, and give you a taste
of the fun, your Pa fetched us all up to spend the evenin', and
we are goin' to have a jolly time on't, to jedge by the looks of
things," said Aunt Cinthy, briskly finishing the tale when Mrs.
Bassett paused for want of breath.

"Whatin the world put it into your head we was comm', and
set you to gittin' up such a supper?" asked Mr. Bassett, looking
about him, well pleased and much surprised at the plentiful table.

Tillymodestly began to tell, but the others broke in and 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 so elated by the commendation of Ma
and the aunts, that they set forth their dinner, sure everything
was perfect.

Butwhen the eating began, which it did the moment wraps were
off; then their pride got a fall; for the first person who tasted
the stuffing (it was big Cousin Mose, and that made it harder to
bear) nearly choked over the bitter morsel.

"Tilly Bassett, whatever made you put wormwood and catnip
in your stuffin'?" demanded Ma, trying not to be severe, for all
the rest were laughing, and Tilly looked ready to cry.

"Idid it," said Prue, nobly taking all the blame, which caused
Pa to kiss her on the spot, and declare that it didn't do a mite
of harm, for the turkey was all right.

"Inever see onions cooked better. All the vegetables is well
done, and the dinner a credit to you, my dears," declared Aunt
Cinthy, with her mouth full of the fragrant vegetable she praised.

Thepudding was an utter failure in spite of the blazing brandy
in which it lay--as hard and heavy as one of the stone balls on
Squire Dunkin's great gate. It was speedily whisked out of sight,
and all fell upon the pies, which were perfect. But Tilly and
Prue were much depressed, and didn't recover their spirits till
dinner was over and the evening fun well under way.

"Blind-man'sbluff," "Hunt the slipper," "Come, Philander,
" and other lively games soon set everyone bubbling over with
jollity, and when Eph struck up "Money Musk" on his fiddle, old
and young fell into their places for a dance. All down the long
kitchen they stood, Mr. and Mrs. Bassett at the top, the twins
at the bottom, and then away they went, heeling and toeing, cutting
pigeon-wings, and taking their steps in a way that would convulse modern
children with their new-fangled romps called dancing. Mose and
Tilly covered themselves with glory by the vigor with which they
kept it up, till fat Aunt Cinthy fell into a chair, breathlessly
declaring that a very little of such exercise was enough for a
woman of her "heft."

Applesand cider, chat and singing, finished the evening, and
after a grand kissing all round, the guests drove away in the clear
moonlight which came out to cheer their long drive.

Whenthe 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 the sorrow
we expected was changed into joy, so we'll read a chapter 'fore
we go to bed, and give thanks where thanks is due."

ThenTilly set out the light stand with the big Bible on it,
and a candle on each side, and all sat quietly in the firelight,
smiling as they listened with happy hearts to the sweet old words
that fit all times and seasons so beautifully.

Whenthe good-nights were over, and the children in bed, Prue
put her arm round Tilly and whispered tenderly, for she felt her
shake, and was sure she was crying:

"Don'tmind about the old stuffin' and puddin', deary--nobody
cared, and Ma said we really did do surprisin' well for such young
girls."

Thelaughter Tilly was trying to smother broke out then, and
was so infectious, Prue could not help joining her, even before
she knew the cause of the merriment.

"Iwas mad about the mistakes, but don't care enough to cry.
I'm laughing to think how Gad fooled Eph and I found him out.
I thought Mose and Amos would have died over it, when I told them,
it was so funny," explained Tilly, when she got her breath.

"Iwas so scared that when the first orange hit me, I thought
it was a bullet, and scrabbled into the cradle as fast as I could.
It was real mean to frighten the little ones so," laughed Prue,
as Tilly gave a growl.

Herea smart rap on the wall of the next room caused a sudden
lull in the fun, and Mrs. Bassett's voice was heard, saying warningly,
"Girls, go to sleep immediate, or you'll wake the baby."

"Yes'm,"answered two meek voices, and after a few irrepressible
giggles, silence reigned, broken only by an occasional snore from
the boys, or the soft scurry of mice in the buttery, taking their
part in this old-fashioned Thanksgiving.

An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving By Louisa May Alcott 1881 ~ David Levi Communications, Inc. Beverly Hills, California 90210 USA