COMMUTER'S THANKSGIVING 249 



cording to the suggestion of one ot our wisest 

 philosophers (Josh Billings, I think), and, in order 

 to see how well the world could get on without 

 me, I have stuck my finger into the yellow cur- 

 rent, pulled it out, and looked for the hole. 



The placid stream flowed on. 



So now, when the day's work is done, I turn 

 homeward here to Mullein Hill, and these early 

 autumn nights I hang the lantern high in the 

 stable, while four shining faces gather round on 

 upturned buckets behind the cow. The lantern 

 flickers, the milk foams, the stories flow — 

 " Bucksy " stories of the noble red-man ; stories 

 of Arthur and the Table Round, of Guyon and 

 Britomart, and the heroes of old ; and marvelous 

 stories of that greatest hero of them all — their 

 father, far away yonder when he was a boy, when 

 there were so many interesting things to do, and 

 such fun doing them ! 



Now the world is so "full of a number of 

 things" — things to do still, but things, instead 

 of hands, and things instead of selves, so many 

 things to do them with — even a thing to milk 

 with, now ! But I will continue to use my 

 hands. 



