When Columbus first landed upon the shores of the
New World, and for a long time after, the natives
thought that he had come down from heaven, and they
were ready to do anything for this new friend. But at
one place, where he stayed for some months, the chiefs 5
became jealous of him and tried to drive him away. It had
been their custom to bring food for him and his companions
every morning, but now the amount they brought was very
small, and Columbus saw that he would soon be starved
unless he could make a change. 10

Now Columbus knew that in a few days there was to be
an eclipse of the sun; so he called the chiefs around him
and told them that the Great Spirit was angry with them
for not doing as they agreed in bringing him provisions, and
that to show his anger, on such a day, he would cause the15
sun to be darkened. The Indians listened, but they did
not believe Columbus and there was a still greater falling
off in the amount of the food sent in.

On the morning of the day set, the sun rose clear and
bright, and the Indians shook their heads as they thought20
how Columbus had tried to deceive them. Hour after
hour passed and still the sun was bright, and the Spanish
began to fear that the Indians would attack them soon, as
they seemed fully convinced that Columbus had deceived
them. But at length a black shadow began to steal over
the face of the sun. Little by little the light faded and
darkness 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 that
he had sent a dreadful monster to swallow the sun. They
could see the jaws of this horrible monster slowly closing
to shut off their light forever. Frantic with fear, they filled 10
the air with cries and shrieks. Some fell prostrate before
Columbus and entreated his help; some rushed off and
soon returned laden with every kind of provisions they could
lay their hands on. Columbus then retired to his tent and
promised to save them if possible. About the time for the15
eclipse to pass away, he came out and told them that the
Great Spirit had pardoned them this time and he would soon
drive away the monster from the sun; but they must never
offend in that way again.

The Indians promised, and waited. As the sun began 20
to come out from the shadow their fears subsided, and
when it shone clear once more, their joy knew no bounds.
They leaped, they danced, and they sang. They thought
Columbus was a god, and while he remained on the island
the Spaniards had all the provisions they needed. 25

—Stories of Heroic Deeds.

FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY PROCLAMATION

By George Washington, 1789

Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday,
the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by
the people of these states to the service of that great and
glorious Being, who is the beneficent author of all the good
that was, that is, or that will be. That we may then all 5
unite in the rendering unto Him our sincere and humble
thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of
this country previous to their becoming a nation—for the
single and manifold mercies, and for the favorable interpellation
of His providence, in the course and conclusion of 10
the late war.

THANKSGIVING DAY PROCLAMATION, 1905

By Theodore Roosevelt

When, nearly three centuries ago, the first settlers
came to the country which has now become this
great republic, they fronted not only hardship and privation,
but terrible risk to their lives. In those grim years the
custom grew of setting apart one day in each year for a 5
special service of thanksgiving to the Almighty for preserving
the people through the changing seasons. The
custom has now become national and hallowed by immemorial
usage. We live in easier and more plentiful
times than our forefathers, the men who with rugged
strength faced the rugged days; and yet the dangers to
national life are quite as great now as at any previous time 5
in our history. It is eminently fitting that once a year our
people should set apart a day for praise and thanksgiving
to the Giver of Good, and, at the same time that they
express their thankfulness for the abundant mercies received,
should manfully acknowledge their shortcomings 10
and pledge themselves solemnly and in good faith to strive
to overcome them. During the past year we have been
blessed with plentiful crops. Our business prosperity has
been great. No other people has ever stood on as high a
level of material well-being as ours now stands. We are 15
not threatened by foes from without. The foes from whom
we should pray to be delivered are our own passions, appetites,
and follies; and against these there is always need
that we should war.

Therefore, I now set apart Thursday, the thirtieth day 20
of this November, as a day of thanksgiving for the past and
of prayer for the future, and on that day I ask that throughout
the land the people gather in their homes and places of
worship, and in rendering thanks unto the Most High for
the manifold blessings of the past year, consecrate themselves 25
to a life of cleanliness, honor, and wisdom, so that
this nation may do its allotted work on the earth in a
manner worthy of those who founded it and of those who
preserved it.

HARVEST SONG

By James Montgomery

THE CRATCHITS' CHRISTMAS

By Charles Dickens

Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit, Cratchit's wife, dressed
out but poorly in a twice-turned gown, but brave
in ribbons, which are cheap and make a goodly show for
sixpence; and she laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda
Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons; 5
while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan
of potatoes, and getting the corners of his monstrous
shirt collar (Bob's private property, conferred upon his
son and heir in honor of the day) into his mouth, rejoiced
to find himself so gallantly attired and yearned to show his 10
linen in the fashionable parks. And now two smaller
Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that
outside the baker's they had smelt the goose and known it
for their own; and basking in luxurious thoughts of sage
and onion these young Cratchits danced about the table 15
and exalted Master Peter Cratchit to the skies, while he
(not proud, although his collars nearly choked him) blew
the fire until the slow potatoes, bubbling up, knocked loudly
at the saucepan lid to be let out and peeled.

"What has ever got your precious father, then?" said
Mrs. Cratchit. "And your brother, Tiny Tim! And
Martha warn't as late last Christmas Day by half an
hour!"

"Here's Martha, mother," said a girl, appearing as she 5
spoke.

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

"Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you
are!" said Mrs. Cratchit, kissing her a dozen times and 10
taking off her shawl and bonnet for her with officious zeal.

"We'd a deal of work to finish up last night," replied
the 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 have15
a warm, Lord bless ye!"

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

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

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

"Not coming," said Mrs. Cratchit.

"Not coming!" said Bob, with a sudden declension in
his high spirits; for he had been Tim's blood horse all the 30
way from church and had come home rampant. "Not
coming upon Christmas Day!"

Martha didn't like to see him disappointed, if it were
only a joke; so she came out prematurely from behind the
closet door and ran into his arms, while the two young
Cratchits hustled Tiny Tim and bore him off into the
washhouse, that he might hear the pudding singing in the 5
copper.

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

"As good as gold," said Bob, "and better. Somehow he 10
gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks
the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming
home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church,
because he was a cripple and it might be pleasant to them
to remember, upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars 15
walk and blind men see."

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

His active little crutch was heard upon the floor and 20
back came Tiny Tim before another word was spoken,
escorted by his brother and sister to his stool beside the
fire; and while Bob, turning up his cuffs—as if, poor
fellow, they were capable of being made more shabby—compounded
some hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons 25
and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob to
simmer, Master Peter and the two ubiquitous young
Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon
returned in high procession.

Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a 30
goose the rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, to
which a black swan was a matter of course—and in truth
it was something very like it, in that house. Mrs. Cratchit
made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan)
hissing hot; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible
vigor; Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple sauce;
Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside 5
him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits
set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and
mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into
their mouths lest they should shriek for goose before their
turn came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on 10
and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless
pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving
knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she
did, and when the long-expected gush of stuffing issued
forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board, 15
and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits,
beat on the table with the handle of his knife and feebly
cried, "Hurrah!"

There never was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness
and flavor, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal 20
admiration. 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 (surveying
one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn't eaten
it all at last! Yet everyone had had enough, and the 25
youngest Cratchits, in particular, were steeped in sage and
onion to the eyebrows! But now the plates being changed
by Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone—too
nervous to bear witnesses—to take the pudding up, and
bring it in. 30

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

Halloo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was out 5
of the copper. A smell like a washing day! That was the
cloth. A smell like an eating house and a pastry cook's
next door to each other, with a laundress's next door to
that! That was the pudding! In half a minute Mrs.
Cratchit entered—flushed, but smiling proudly—with 10
the pudding, like a speckled cannon ball, so hard and
firm, blazing in half of half a quartern of ignited brandy
and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top.

Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and
calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success 15
achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs.
Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she
would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity
of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but
nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for 20
a 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, the
hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in the
jug being tasted and considered perfect, apples and oranges 25
were put upon the table and a shovelful of chestnuts on the
fire. Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth
in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one;
and at Bob Cratchit's elbow stood the family display of
glass—two tumblers and a custard cup without a handle. 30

These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as
golden goblets would have done; and Bob served it out
with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered
and 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.

THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT

By Émile Souvestre

Twelve o'clock.—A knock at my door; a poor
girl comes in and greets me by name. At first I
do not recall her, but she looks at me and smiles. Ah, it is
Paulette! But it is nearly a year since I have seen her,
and Paulette is no longer the same; the other day she was 5
a child; to-day she is almost a young woman.

Paulette is thin, pale, and miserably clad; but she has
always the same open and straightforward look—the same
mouth, smiling at every word as if to plead for sympathy—the
same voice, timid yet caressing. Paulette is not 10
pretty—she is even thought plain; as for me, I think her
charming. Perhaps that is not on her account but on my
own. Paulette is a part of one of my happiest recollections.

It was the evening of a public holiday. Our principal
buildings were lighted with festoons of fire, a thousand
flags floated in the night wind, and the fireworks had just
shot forth their jets of flame in the midst of the Champ de
Mars. Suddenly one of those unaccountable panics which5
seize a multitude falls upon the dense crowd; they cry out,
they rush on headlong; the weaker ones fall and the
frightened crowd tramples them down in its convulsive
struggles. Escaping from the confusion by a miracle, I
was hastening away when the cries of a perishing child 10
arrested me; I went back into that human chaos and
after unheard-of exertions I brought Paulette away at the
peril of my life.

That was two years ago; since then I had seen the child
only at long intervals and had almost forgotten her; but 15
Paulette had a grateful heart, and she came at the beginning
of the year to bring me her good wishes. She brought
me, too, a wallflower in full bloom; she herself had planted
and reared it; it was something that belonged wholly to
herself, for it was because of her care, her perseverance, 20
and 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 of
varnished paper ornamented with arabesques. These
might have been in better taste, but I felt the good will25
none the less.

This unexpected present, the little girl's modest blushes,
the compliments she stammered out, dispelled, as by a
sunbeam, the mist which had gathered round my heart;
my thoughts suddenly changed from the leaden tints of 30
evening to the rosiest colors of dawn. I made Paulette
sit down and questioned her with a light heart.

At first the little girl replied by monosyllables; but
very soon the tables were turned and it was I who interrupted
with short interjections her long confidences. The
poor child leads a hard life. She was left an orphan long
ago and with a brother and sister lives with an old grandmother, 5
who has brought them up to poverty, as she says.

However Paulette now helps her to make bandboxes, her
little sister Perrine begins to sew, and her brother Henri
is apprenticed to a printer. All would go well if it were not
for losses and want of work—if it were not for clothes which 10
wear out, for appetites which grow larger, and for the
winter, when you must buy your sunshine. Paulette complains
that candles go too quickly and that the wood costs
too much. The fireplace in their garret is so large that a
fagot produces no more effect than a match; it is so near15
the roof that the wind blows down the rain and in winter
it hails upon the hearth; so they have given up using it.
Henceforth they must be content with an earthen chafing
dish, upon which they cook their meals. The grandmother
had often spoken of a stove that was for sale at the huckster's 20
on the ground floor, but he asked seven francs for it
and 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 rising
above my low spirits. The first disclosures of the little25
bandbox maker created within me a wish that soon became
a plan. I questioned her about her daily occupations and
she told me that on leaving me she must go with her brother,
her sister, and her grandmother, to the different people for
whom they work. My plan was immediately settled. I 30
told 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 ray
of sunshine bade it welcome; the birds were singing around,
the sky had cleared, and the day which began so gloomily
had 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, the
chimney doctor; he will repair my old stove, the old stove
which I had replaced, and promises to make it as good as
new. At five o'clock we are going to put it up in Paulette's
grandmother's room. 10

Midnight.—All has gone well. At the hour agreed
upon I was at the old bandbox maker's; she was still out.
My Piedmontese fixed the stove, while I arranged in the
great fireplace a dozen logs borrowed from my winter's
stock. I shall make up for them by warming myself with 15
walking or by going to bed earlier.

My heart beat at every step which was heard on the
staircase; I trembled lest they should interrupt me in my
preparations and should thus spoil my intended surprise.
But no—everything is ready; the lighted stove murmurs 20
gently, the little lamp burns upon the table, and a bottle
of oil for it is provided on the shelf. The chimney doctor
is gone. Now my fear lest they should come is changed
into impatience at their delay. At last I hear children's
voices; here they are! They push open the door and 25
rush in—but they stop with cries of astonishment.

At sight of the lamp, the stove, and the visitor who
stands there like a magician in the midst of these wonders,
they draw back almost frightened. Paulette is the first to
understand, and the arrival of the grandmother, mounting 30
the stairs more slowly, finishes the explanation. Then come
tears, ecstasies, thanks!

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

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

What bursts of laughter at nothing! What a hubbub of
questions which waited for no reply, of replies which answered
no question! The old woman herself shared in the
wild merriment of the little ones! I have always wondered15
at the ease with which the poor forget their wretchedness.
Accustomed to live in the present, they use every pleasure
as soon as it offers itself. But the rich, blunted by luxury,
gain happiness less easily. They must have all things in
harmony before they consent to be happy. 20

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

I have come home slowly, with a full heart, thinking
over the pure memories of this evening. It has given me
comfort and much instruction. Now the years can come 30
and go. I know that no one is so unhappy as to have
nothing 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 as
she 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

CHRISTMAS IN THE PINES

By Meredith Nicholson

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

THE NEW YEAR'S DINNER PARTY

By Charles Lamb

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

The Festivals, whom he appointed as his stewards, were
mightily taken with the notion. They had been engaged
time out of mind, they said, in providing mirth and cheer
for mortals below; and it was time that they should have
a taste of their bounty. 10

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

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

Well, they were all met at last, four Days, five Days, all
sorts of Days, and a rare din they made of it. There was
nothing but "Hail! fellow Day!" "Well met, brother
Day! sister Day!"—only Lady Day kept a little on the
aloof and seemed somewhat scornful. Yet some said that 5
Twelfth Day cut her out, for she came in a silk suit, white
and gold, like a queen on a frost cake, all royal and
glittering.

The rest came, some in green, some in white—but Lent
and his family were not yet out of mourning. Rainy Days 10
came in dripping, and Sunshiny Days helped them to
change their stockings. Wedding Day was there in his
marriage 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 to 15
marshal the guests. And wild work he made of it; good
Days, bad Days, all were shuffled together. He had stuck
the Twenty-first of June next to the Twenty-second of
December, and the former looked like a maypole by the side
of a marrowbone. Ash Wednesday got wedged in betwixt 20
Christmas and Lord Mayor's Day.

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

May Day, with that sweetness which is her own, made a
neat speech proposing the health of the founder. This
being done, the lordly New Year from the upper end of 30
the table, in a cordial but somewhat lofty tone, returned
thanks.

They next fell to quibbles and conundrums. The question
being proposed, who had the greatest number of followers—the
Quarter Days said there could be no question
as to that; for they had all the creditors in the world
dogging their heels. But April Fool gave it in favor of the 5
Forty Days before Easter; because the debtors in all cases
outnumbered the creditors, and they kept Lent all the year.

At last, dinner being ended, all the Days called for
their cloaks and greatcoats, and took their leaves. Lord
Mayor's Day went off in a Mist, as usual; Shortest Day 10
in a deep black Fog, which wrapped the little gentleman
all round like a hedgehog.

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

Longest Day set off westward in beautiful crimson and
gold—the rest, some in one fashion some in another, took
their departure.

—Last Essays of Elia.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN

(Written for Jesse W. Fell, December 20, 1859)

I was born February 12, 1809, in Hardin County, Kentucky.
My parents were both born in Virginia, of
undistinguished families—second families, perhaps I
should say. My mother, who died in my tenth year, was
of a family of the name of Hanks, some of whom now reside 5
in Adams, and others in Macon County, Illinois. My
paternal grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, emigrated from
Rockingham County, Virginia, to Kentucky about 1781
or 1782, where a year or two later he was killed by the
Indians, not in battle, but by stealth, when he was laboring 10
to open a farm in the forest. His ancestors, who were
Quakers, went to Virginia from Berks County, Pennsylvania.
An effort to identify them with the New England
family of the same name ended in nothing more definite
than a similarity of Christian names in both families, such 15
as Enoch, Levi, Mordecai, Solomon, Abraham, and the like.

My father, at the death of his father, was but six years of
age, and he grew up literally without education. He removed
from Kentucky to what is now Spencer County,
Indiana, in my eighth year. We reached our new home
about the time the state came into the Union. It was a
wild region, with many bears and other wild animals still
in the woods. There I grew up. There were some schools,
so called, but no qualification was ever required of a teacher 5
beyond "readin', writin', and cipherin'" to the rule of three.
If a straggler supposed to understand Latin happened to
sojourn in the neighborhood, he was looked upon as a
wizard. There was absolutely nothing to excite ambition
for education. Of course, when I came of age I did not 10
know much. Still, somehow, I could read, write, and
cipher to the rule of three, but that was all. I have not
been to school since. The little advance I now have upon
this store of education I have picked up from time to time
under the pressure of necessity. 15

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

Then came the Black Hawk war, and I was elected a captain
of volunteers, a success which gave me more pleasure
than any I have had since. I went the campaign, was
elated, ran for the legislature the same year (1832), and was
beaten—the only time I have ever been beaten by the 25
people. The next and three succeeding biennial elections
I was elected to the legislature. I was not a candidate
afterward. During this legislative period I had studied
law, and removed to Springfield to practice it. In 1846 I
was once elected to the lower house of Congress. Was 30
not a candidate for reëlection. From 1849 to 1854, both
inclusive, practiced law more assiduously than ever before.
Always Whig in politics; and generally on the Whig
electoral tickets, making active canvasses. I was losing
interest in politics when the repeal of the Missouri Compromise
aroused me again. What I have done since then
is 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 and
eighty pounds; dark complexion, with coarse black hair
and gray eyes. No other marks or brands recollected. 10