ft"
'
W
nt
1,1
AHapvest
Canticle:.
j
araraja
fW,A.
!..., v.ivV iiML
yrrww
,w . '-SB
Igmvu
HAT IS bounty m
GVn love in n'-
AW' That waits lor no
plea to bestow,
The evergreen boon
of the river
To the fields that
are blessed lay Its
Does the light when tho morning uncloses
Count, the leagues of Its flight to the iplata?
Does the sky call the roll of the roses
That hold up their lips for Us rain?
God Is never at loss with His plenty,
And Nature, His handmaid, no more
Ripens sweets for the feast of the dainty
Than bread for the fare of the poor.
'Tls a loan with no burden thereafter,
'Tls a grace never measured nor weighed:
If tho banquet turns weeping to laughter
The debt of the eater is paid.
O Goodness so grand In its doing!
Arc there gluttons who starve at Us
board;
Craven souls, whoso Insatiable suing
Has poisoned tho comforts they hoard,
Who, insane with the joy of receiving,
Are glad for no sake but their own,
"Who are deaf to the song of thanksgiving
And tongneless to utter Us tone7
Give us want, give us nothingness rather
Than this; better never be born
Than to harvest the fields of our Father
And leave Him unthanked for the corn.
The Just wll pay measure for measure
And the selfish give love for a fee;
But they squander an Infinite treasure
Who sin against love that Is free,
Theron Brown, In N. Y. Independent.
fl
is) Hannah's
ksgivirvs
,
SS HANNAH
LITCHFIELD'S
old, gray horse
took his comfort
able wav alonsr the
mountain rond that led from the church
in the village by four miles of sandy
incline up to his own slab barn. Miss
Hannah, alone on the seat of her high
buggy, gave an occasional flick with
the whip, but in a meditative manner
as though out of sbme inner mood.
They were having "an uncommon
spell of weather" this fall, so the old
men said. It was the Sunday before
Thanksgiving, and yet the soft haze in
thenir, the quiefthrough which an occa
sional drifting of ruslting leaf or over
ripe nut sounded softly, made it seem
more like October than a late November
day.
There was a faint whistle.through the
sere leaves of a small weedy cornfield
she was passing. The shocks were
leaning as though stacked by incom
petent hands.
"Hope Seraph'll get her corn in be
fore snow flies," Miss Hannah grum
bled, hitting Tom so briskly as to sur-
prise
Then
him into an effort at trotting,
she turned her eyes resolutely
away from the rickety house beyond,
standing half way up a bare, stony
hill, and the faded, sad-eyed woman in
the door looked after her longingly,
and lifted the corner of her apron to her
face.
"Hannah ain't ever going to forgive
me," she said, weakly, to her oldest, a
sickly girl of 34.
"Why, what'd you do, ma?"
"It's mostly 1 guess what I didn't do,"
was the answer. "Hannah's dreadful
smart, and she hain't no jiationcc with
those that ain't like her. Then your pa
was sickly like you, and died, and she
didn't like that; though I can't for the
life of me see how he was to blame.
He couldn't help it. Hut Hannah called
him lazy. And we owe her, too, you
know."
"Should think we did," broke in a
boy of 12. "Don't we have to most kill
ourselves every year picking berries to
pay the old interest. Wait till I get to
be a man and I'll pay oil' her $200; see
if I don't."
"I guess you will, Benny," said his
mother, admiringly. The boy's ambi
tions were a never-failing wonder to his
mother and sister.
"Ma, did you knowwext Thursday is
Thanksgiving day?" asked a younger
boy.
"What difference does that make to
us?" was the mother's weary rejoinder.
"It's many a year since I've seen a
Thanksgiving day. I guess the Lord's
forgotten us, or else we're too bad for
Him to care for. I don't know what
we've done, for sure. Mebbe it's like
Hannah. He hain't no patience with
folks that's down and good for nothing.
Anyway, He hain't thought of us in a
good while."
Miss Hannah, going on her way,
might have been shocked if she had
heard these sentiments from the lips of
her cousin Seraph. She always went
to church, ruin or shine, although old
WWnJ.TI-
fl
Y-Ay
w
.i-f1 r s
nvir
eHvaB
c'?
Capt. Skinner said "Miss Hannah could
hear the greatest amount of sermons,
and not one of them stick to her any
more than water to a duck's back."
Yet he would have been mistaken this
time.
"There's no use talking," had been
the sturdy words that had pricked
through her armor of selfishness, "of
keeping Thanksgiving unless you've
got the Lord's love in your hearts, and
let it run over, as Ho did, toward those
around you. And you never can make
a sure thing of it while you cherish an
unforgiving feeling for a human soul,
or hold back a hand that ought to be
stretched for a human need. The Lord
will never accept any halt or half-way
sacrifice. Go to your knees, and then
work to see what you can bring Him."
Now Miss Hannah had "kept Thanks
giving," as she said, for the 20 years
that she had been left nJone on the
small, rocky, mountain form. Every
year this had been well tilled and cared
for, and brought in suflieiet for her
moderate needs, and a little to place in
the bank against the rainy day of old
age and infirmities. For tins she had
sat down to her solitary board, where a
stuffed rooster with cranberry sauce
and vegetables and pumpkin and apple
pie were spread, and gave thanks. She
never thought of going further than
herself. When her cousin Seraph, who
had been the only companion of her
lonely childhood, had married, against
her express wish, "that shiftless Joe
Parker,7' she simply "let her go her own
way."
The neighbors called her "hard," and
so she was. What was the matter to
day? She was growing old SO last
midsummer. Perhaps ner minu was
weakening.
She had never noticed before how
lonely the small, weather-stained house
looked as she turned in at her own
gate. How would' it seem to have a
face smiling a welcome from the win
dow or some one watching at the
door?
She '"put up" Tom, made her cup of
tea and ate her cold ham and bread,
but it did not refresh her.
"That black rooster'll weigh seven
pounds if he does an ounce," she re
marked to herself, "and I suppose I'll
have him; though what on earth, Han
nah Litchfield, you're talking about
'AIN'T YOU GOING TO INVITE
keeping Thanksgiving for, I can't see.'
You haven't got a bit of it in your heart,
and you know you haven't. You are a
hard, lonesome old woman, and roos
ters, nor turkeys either, can't help that.
You don't love anybody but yourself,
and may the Lord help you! I'm a
pretty halt and poor thing to offer, but
1 guess I'll have to give up, and let Him
lead me awhile," she whispered softly
with the fading shadows, and then
came peace.
The next morning Miss Hannah was
up betimes, and her small washing
waved in the earliest breeze. That was
nothing unusual, but the trip that she
took with Tom, soon after, was more
so. There was a smile as she passed
the rickety house and weedy cornfield,
but no stop until they reached the town
poorhouse, standing bare and unshut
tered, on its bleak hillside.
"I want you to go home with me,
Cynthy Ann, and stay awhile," Miss
Hannah said to u gentle, faded little
woman who came stifliy to meet her.
"Are you willing?"
"The Lord be praised!" was the an
swer given through tears. "He knew
'twas hard trusting Him in this place,
so He's going to brighten it up forme."
"And you are not coming back again,
not while I live," Miss Hannah said, as
they wound their way among the hills.
"You can't exactly be said to be a rela
tive, though my grandfather's wife was
your step-grandfather's sister. But it's
been given to me to see that it's nigh
enough relation for the Lord to find a
duty in it. And, Cynthy Ann, now thut
'"
I'm getting old and gray, I guess it'a
about time for me to bo looking up my
duties," she admitted, grimly.
That was all tho confession Miss Han
nah could bo expected to make. Her
nature would bo one rather to do than
to talk.
And all that day and the two follow
ing the small, tidy house Vltnessed
such life and activity aB it had not seen
for mnny a year.
"It seems too good to be true," Cyn
thy Ann said that afternoon, as she sat
by the window looking down the wind
ing, stony road, placidly stoning raisins.
scolding, and a getting ready for a
Thanksgiving dinner. 1 haven't seen
one, no nor smclled one and I think
the smell's most ns good as the eating,
don't you, Hannah? in 20 years."
"I've smclled them in that time," re
turned Miss Hannah shortly, "but
that's as deep as it went, 1 guess. I
mean to feel it this time."
"Let me pick that rooster, Hannah,"
Cynthy Ann said the next morning as
the devoted bird took a hot water bath.
"It's just what I'm fit for, a sittin' down
job. And it makes me think of ma,
more'n 50 years ago, and how Bhe'd say:
'Now. Cynthy Ann, you may look out
the pin feathers, and mind you don't
leave one large enough for grandma's
sharpest glasses To sjiy.' Ah, I knew
what -good times meant in those days!"
"Well, it does seem good, 1 must say,"
said Miss Hannah, setting the fowl and
some old pans beside her companion,
"to have somebody interested in what's
going on and to speak a word back to
you. It's dreadful lonesome when you
bay something bright not to have a soul
to know it. Well now, you feather him,
and I'll go right to stirring up mince
meat and making those pies. They're
better, I think, kept a few days, don't
you? And Pll put on the cranberries
and let 'cm stew slow and all down to
jelly. Some folks just cook 'em up like
apple sass and leave it. Hah! 'Tain't
fit to eat. Folks tiscd to know how to
cook, Cynthy Ann at Thanksgiving
time anyway."
Amid this unusual ripple of talk a
small boy made his appearance, with
wondering eyes, and nose tilted high as
though to take up all the savory odors
that filled the kitchen air.
"Oh, it's you, is it. Henny?"Miss Han
nah said, peering over her glasses.
SERAPH AND HER FAMILY?"
"Yes'm," the boy returned promptly,
holding out a grimy envelope. "Here,
ma sent you your int'rest," and then his
eyes wandered to the .steaming pies just
placed on the table, with a look that
told how his boyish mouth watered for
them.
Miss Hannah drew her second pair of
glasses down from her forehead to their
proper position, and, opening the en
velope, counted the money.
"Three twos is six, and four ones and
six make ten, and two silver ones make
12." Then she counted it over, begin
ning with the silver this time. "It's
all right," she announced then, slipping
the envelope into her pocket. "You can
go now, and tell your ma so. Here, you
jean have an apple to eat on the way,"
and the boy with n scant thank you,"
slowly backed out the door, beginning,
however, a quick run as soon as he wu3
outside the gate.
"Seraph'll hear all about it now,"
Miss Hannah said to herself.
But some way the work went on more
quietly after this. The truth was, the
timid little Cynthy Ann was making up
her mind to the doing of a disagreeable
duty.
"Hannah," she broke out at last,
"ain't you going to invite Seraph and
her family here to Thanksgiving? You
and I can't ever eat all this stun'."
"I'm thinking of it. yes," was tho
answer that almost took her breath
away.
"Oh, I knew it! I knew you would,
ITaunnh! You're too good to hold spite
longer." -i-
i-A
" No, I ain't, npt a bit ; but I told you,
didn't I, that the Lord was a leading
mo to see duties. 1 ain't no believer in
signs and things, Cynthy Ann," MIms
Hannah went on after n little, "but last
Sunday, I'm free to toll you, I was
troubled in my mind beyond anything
I remember before, even when I was
converted, and I asked the Lord for a
sign; and then I put my finger in tho
Bible and opened it, and what I read
was, in Deuteronomy, like this: that If
there was a poor man nmong our
brethren, or needy, we was to open our
hnnd and to give to him. And now I
don't dare do anything else, you see,"
and Miss Hannah really looked relieved
at this "confession of faith."
"The Lord Vic praised!" ejaculated
Cynthy Ann; it seemed to be a way of
hers. "Have you invited them yet?"
"No," curtly.
"Oh! wouldn't they enjoy thinking of
II, and kind of getting ready?" she
uiged, timidly.
"CynthyAnn,"nndMisslInnnah spoke
slowly, "I do not think best to make
it too easy and pleasant. Sarah was a
member, and she had no right to morry
a man who wasn't. She must suffer for
her sin still. I shall not invite her until
Wednesday afternoon."
If we could imagine an "avenging
angel," with thin, gray hair drawn into
a tight pug, two pair of spectacles
pushed high on forehead, and lips set
close, Miss Hannah might have served
for the character at that moment. Hut
in spite of herself she grew gentler with
every hour until Thanksgiving. One
cannot cherish love in the heart with
out its showing, of course. It was like
the asters Seraph's youngest girl
brought, all the choicer for being so
late.
For they all came, of course, shabby
but clean and hungry. "The four chil
dren really seemed hollow, clear to their
boots," as Miss Hannah said afterward.
But that was after she had had the
pleasure of fillinir them up. Then when
they had gone out into the soft Indian
summer for a play, the three elders
drew their chairs together, and talked,
at first hesitantly, then more and more
earnestly, drifting back to the days of
their childhood and youth, when they,
too, had dreamed and hoped and
planned. And as they talked the tones
grew softer, sometimes even tremulous.
"I should have prayed to die long
ago," the sad-eyed mother said, "if it
hadn't been for the children. 1 ain't of
much use to them though. Nothing but
an old string that holds them together."
"I nm not even an old string," Miss
Hannah said, "but Sereph, I'll join
myself to you after this, and
we'll tie together," and then some
way, the two wrinkled hands came
together in a long clasp; and then,
presently, there was slipped from one
to the other, the same grimy envelope
Benny had brought.
"I never meant to keep it," Miss Han
nah said. "Get a comfortable shawl, or
shingles, or anything. And the note,
Seraph; see; it won't ever trouble you
any more," and lifting the stove lid,
Miss Hannah laid oh the coals a yellow
pi' per, that both watched shrivel to
ashes. "You see, Seraph, I'm bound to
have one real Thanksgiving while I'm
in the ilcsli; and ever since tasked the
Lord nbout it, He seems to open the way
wider and wider, till 1 'most feel as
though 1 should be a singer yet and a
player of instruments, I'm getting so
full". Cynthy Ann's going to stay, so I'll
have a face looking out of the window
for me, and that Buth of yours must
have some doctoring; and Benny's
bright and will pay for schooling; and
Sammy, too; and as for little Katy
well she's jus as cunning as need be.
Think of her bringing me a bouquet.
Out of her own head, too. Seraph, I
guess you've seen your worst days.
When the Lord really calls on Hannah
Litchfield to help do a thlifg, she usually
expects to hold up her end to the best of
her ability. And she's going to now."
The voices dropped into silence. The
short day was dying in the west in a
Hush of golden glory, through which
the sun sent back his rosy promises of
another perfect coming. The children
came through the gate and up the walk.
"And I shall call her Aunt Hannah,"
little Katy was piping in her childish
treble, " 'cause she's just the sweetest
l.idy I 'most ever see."
"Sweetest!" and Miss Hannah's lip
curled scornfully, then gently softened
into a smile. "Well, let her think so.
The Lord and a little child may make
her so yet. The' have done many a
miracle in this world."
The flush in the west deepened to
purple, then faded into a somber gray.
The mountain side was lost in shadows.
The children, tired with play, dropped
down on the broad door stone and
talked softly. And within, three
women, worn and weary in many a bat
tle of life, sat close together, and each
heart sent up n voice of thanksgiv
ing for the gifts of Love the day had
brought. Howe Benning, in Chicago
Advance.
TliunliNKTlvliitt.
The treasures of the harvest time
Are heaped In goodly store;
Earth lays her trlbuto at our feet
In plentcousness onpe more.
The hearth Is swept, tho board Is spread
For friends ftom far and near,
And loving hearts are hasting home,
l'erhai's In many a year. ,
Oh. 'tis the true Thanksgiving time
When round the old hearthstone
We greet the loved of other days,
And clasp hands with our own!
Elizabeth A. Davis, In Golden Days.
BATHING AND HEALTH.
Olcnnllncim JMcnn Much More Thau m
White Sktn.
If wc have the authority of Soriptuna
for the Btatemcnt that cleanliness
next to godliness, and if godliness 1a
means to health, happiness, prosperity,
long life and final sahation, wc cor
readily understand the sentiment of tho
philosopher who uttered those true,
end comprehensive words. Cleanliness
in its broadest sense means much more
than the state produced by the free
use of soap and water. In point of fact,
soap and wntcr, however lavishly used,
may not constitute a gcnulno bath.
Many persons rarely if ever get more
than what the back country women,
calls "cat washes," or tho "lick and tho
promise" that many a busy housemoth
er frequently gives to her children.
The surf nee of the body is covered with,
numberless pores that are in ns urgent
need of clearing out aB arc all other de
positories for foreign matter. Whether
it, bo the dust of the street, the Bmoke
ond grimo of shop or factory, tho im
palpable powder that is ground by rest
less feet out of carpets, mattings and
wood floors, or tho imperceptible dust
of tho ntmosphcre, matters little. Tho
pores of the skin arc filled with mate
rial that must bo removed in some way
if one would enjoy good health. To at
tempt to clcor out these llttlo cells by
tho use of soap and cold water 1b a
hopeless undertaking. Tho cleansing
process must come from within, and
this can only be accomplished by start
ing the perspiration, which, accumulat
ing in the tiny ductB back of the pores,
force out the dust collected thene. In
view of the fact that cold Iiob a ten
dency to closo the pores, it is difficult
to understand why some eminent au
thorities advocate only cold baths nnd
seem incapable of giving any credit to
tho use of hot water. Of course there
aro differences in temperament, con
stitution and condition, and most per
sons who have reached years of discre
tion have been compelled to ndmititho
truth of the adage: "What is one man's
meat is another man's poison." There
arc undoubtedly many people who nre
greatly benefited by the use of cold wa
ter indeed, no one questions its valuo
as a remedial agent. But as a bath,
agent and elennser it is most valuable
when used after hot water. The Turk
ish bath is the ideal means for cleansing
not only the outer covering of the body,
but also the entire system. There are
manj' diseases that ore greatly relieved
or entirely cured by inducing prof-use
perspiration. Scientists tell us that it '
is an cosy matter for the experienced
bacteriologists to diagnose a cose by
cxrminlng the perspiration. The dis
ease germs pour out of the skin and nre
by the expert as readily recognized an
aiiy other living creatures. For perfect
health ond the very best hygienic con
ditions a bath as hot as can be tnken
with comfort should be indulged in at,
least twice a week. Plenty of fine toilet
soap and a section of Turkish toweling,
or what is much better o-piccc of u
Japanese gourd, should be used freely.
These gourds, which are fibrous nnd
spongy, arc sold at the druggists and
arc the best wash rags In existence.
The individual should remain in the hot
bath until the sensation of being "com
pletely cooked through" is experienced.
The first indication of the time to stop
comes in the shnpe of a fullness and
beating in the throat. As soon as this is
felt, open the outlet in the bath tub and
turn on cold water through it pipe at
tuclicd to o sprinkler. Use thfs shower
both until the Btirfnce of skin is com
fortably cool and a reaction takes place.
Then wrap the entire body in a thick
bath robe and take half on hour's sleep
if possible. The Blumber which follows
such treatment is most refreshing.
Those who have studied bathing for
many years acknowledge that this is
unquestionably the best method of.
bathing. N. Y. Ledger.
Apple Suet l'lidillnHT.
Chop very fine one quarter pound of
beef suet; slice into the chopping bowl
four sour apples. Chop through once
or twice nnd shake over a little flour.
Stir with a silver knife nnd mix all to
gether. Put one teaspoon baking pow
der and a little salt into n cup of flour.
Break one egg Into the bowl with the
apples and suet. Sift In the flour and
moisten with milk. If the apples are
very sour add a teaspoonful of sugar
with tho flour. Make the hotter quite
thick. Pour Into n well greoscd steam
er anu steam tnrce nours. oaucc one
half cup butter, two thirds cup sugar.
Cream together, and, when the sugar iB
dissolved, odd the white of one egg.
Beat hard and odd one-half teaspoon of
vanilla. Set on ice, and, when serving
the pudding, put one spoonful on each
slice of hot pudding. This is our fnvor
ite pudding, and is the nicest I ever
make. Boston Globe.
Proper Ten I'ourlngr.
There is an etiquette of tea-pouring
which Is strictly observed by our Eng
lish cousins. The first cups are offered
to the older guests and guests of honor
since these first cups are Aveakest,
while the latter brews are considered
less palatable, and are served to the
children. However, we Americans pre
fer frankly asking eacli guest whether
the liquid is liked strong or weak
which is the simpler and better plan,
Bince -to many feminine the first cup is
decidedly "washy" and a real affile
tion. Leisure Hours.
Endless leather belts, acting as mov
ing staircases, convey the patrons of a
large Parisan store from one floor tc
smother.
