1758 
November 20, 1910 
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The RURAL. NEW-YORKER 
Their Best Thanksgiving 
(Continued From Pago 1774) 
a young fellow that worked where she did. 
Ho was good enough, I guess, its young 
men go nowadays, but Beulah worshipped 
him. Tf you could hear her tell about it. 
you’d know how happy they were, hut 
because she thought he was so perfect, it 
'most killed her to find out he wasn’t. 
"There wasn't anything so very had 
about him. either, hut he drank a little, 
and to Beulah that was the worst thing 
in the world. You ean’t blame her for 
hating it when you think how her father 
had treated her. and after her baby was 
horn she kept worrying for fear her John 
would treat the baby the way Bob had 
treated her. Of course there wasn’t any 
sense in her feeling that way. for ns near 
as I can find out her John thought an 
awful pile of her. and set great store by 
the little kid. hut women get notions 
sometimes, especially about their tins 
bands, and Beulah brooded 'over it so 
much that after awhile she up and left 
him. T suppose she tried to boss h : m a 
li’lle too much or something. Anyway lie 
wouldn’t promise never to touch another 
drop and all that, and he ,i".st took the 
baby and left, and she wouldn’t go hack 
to him either. He wrote to her time and 
time again and begged and pleaded with 
her to come home, -but it didn’t do any 
good. She loved him all the time, you 
understand, hut she was afraid for her 
baby. She lived with a friend of hers, 
and did sewing and washing and nil 
lends of odd jobs to make a living. 
Finally her husband stopped writing to 
her, and she lost track of him. When she 
did come around and get. ready to forgive 
him. she cou’dn’t find him. She said sin- 
got to thinking about Hot Benson and 
how she’d spoi'ed Bob’s life, and per 
haps sin- was doing the same thing to 
John. Tf she’d staid with him and helped 
him tight against his one weakness, in¬ 
stead of sending him oft alone. tln\v 
might have won out in time. f think 
they would have too. A girl like Beulah 
can do anything with a man. but she was 
too young then to know what to do. 
There doesn’t seem to he much connection 
between all this and her coming hack to 
her father on that stormy night, but she 
reasoned to herself that perhaps if she 
did for her father what she wanted to do. 
but couldn’t for John. Cod in Ilis'own 
good time would let her have her husband 
back again. She said she’d ruined John’s 
life, hut perhaps she could sav her 
father’s. 
‘‘Well, that’s about all there is to tell. 
She’s never heard from her husband, and 
it's two years to-day since she came here. 
She’s bright and cheerful, but you can 
see .she suffers from the look in her eye.-. 
She imagines all kinds of tilings about 
him and thinks she’s spoiled his life— 
Hey there! young fellow, where are you 
going? Dinner’s about ready-” 
But I didn’t answer the doctor. T was 
on my way to Beulah’s house. The doctor 
must have known all along who she was. 
though I had never told him much about 
mv wife except that we had had a mi-- 
understandiiig and I was entirely to 
blame for her going away. 
I found them just ready for dinner. 
Bob and Beulah and my little boy. They 
didn't see me at first, and I stood inside 
tlie door and felt the tears run down my 
cheeks as I watched the baby and his 
grand-dad playing horse on the floor, and 
Beulah standing by with a proud >mi!o. 
Then she looked up and saw ine. and tin- 
next minute she was in my arms and 
crying too. and asking me to forgive her, 
I as if I had anything to forgive. 
"Put another plate on the table for me. 
honey.” I said, “and we’ll have the best 
Thanksgiving Day of any folks in Amer¬ 
ica." 
It was queer of course that I hadn’t 
thought of Beulah right away when tin- 
old doctor began his story, but she'd al¬ 
ways called herself Nancy to me; and I’d 
never asked her much about her early 
life, because it made her so unhappy to 
! talk about it. 
That evening, after our little hoy had 
been put to bed and his grand-dad was 
telling him stories, Beulah and I sat be¬ 
fore the fire and looked into each other’s 
eyes for a long time, and saw written 
therein great IqW* and great forgiveness. 
“John.” she said, “neither of ns is per¬ 
fect. There will be lots of times when 
we will not. understand' each other, but 
whatever happens after this there will 
always he love and forgiveness.” After 
awhile sin- added. “Think how wonderful 
Thanksgiving Day will he to us every 
year, though really the day doesn’t make 
so much difference because after this 
every day in the year will be Thanks¬ 
giving Day for us.” 
Pastoral Parson 
(Continued From Page 174.7) 
are cheap, around here anyway, selling 
as low as $4. don’t invest, and keep them 
over the Winter. If you have a lot of 
spare skim-milk there may he some ex¬ 
cuse, but even then you will do better 
probably to give the milk to the pullets 
and get them to laying with eggs a dollar 
a dozen. If you must keep over some¬ 
thing in this line, let it be a last Spring’s 
pig that will keep growing all the time 
and give you a litter of little ones in the 
early Spring. There is never any trouble 
selling Spring pigs, but people are roast¬ 
ing their little ones around here now—- 
there is no sale for them. 
Those I’utxets —Speaking of pullet 
the boys and the Parson pretty well 
cleaned theirs out the other day. They 
were White Leghorns and not very early 
hatchnd. but good thrifty birds, as they 
had a big run all Summer. “Find me all 
you can,” said a man from uptown, “at 
.$2.70 apiece.” “We play frix among the 
apple trees tonight,” said the Parson to 
the boys. We found 20 und he paid us 
$07. We have quite a number of other 
kinds of pullets that he did not wan.! 
and some good last year’s stock, so wo 
are content. A good old hen will lay 
about as early as these pullets would 
have. With the present demand for pou - 
try. if is a question whether it is not 
about as good a cash crop as one can 
raise. 
The Addition —No. it is not an addi¬ 
tion to the family that the Parson reports 
this time, but an addition to the house. 
The former cannot grow indefinitely 
without some expansion of the latter. Mrs 
Parson has wanted her chamber made 
larger for so many years! She has torn 
her clothes on the handles of the bureau 
drawers till sin- is quite out of patience. 
She says she hasn’t a skirt in the world 
that hasn’t suffered in this way. So we 
get at it this Fall, and with the help of 
one of our down-country church boys, a 
fim- carpenter, we fix' it up. You will 
see us in the picture; page 1745. We used 
some old canvas to keep out the rain 
and wind. Most everyone uses asbestos 
shingles around here, as the best wooden 
ones cost $17 a thousand. Mrs. l’arson 
is so happy over her big nice room that 
if bids fair to be her best Thanksgiving 
since we came to this place.. 
Whose Day —Henry Ward Beecher 
used to say that while'fluster was young 
folks’ day and Christmas was children’s 
day. Thanksgiving, was old folks’ day. 
It is then the home men folks with the 
company men folks stand round the barn 
or tramp across the fields and tell of 
the crops and the Fall seasons they have 
known years ago. And the women folks 
sit round and watch the basting of the 
bird in the oven and swap recipes on how 
to make stuffin’, whether you should put 
in onions or not. Suppose we all take 
pains to be mindful and considerate of the 
old folks around Thanksgiving time! 
Not Too Late —You who “make” 
Thanksgiving and “make” Christmas, 
don't have the dinners too late in the af¬ 
ternoon especially if there arc- children 
round. The Parson would rather , have 
beaus and corn bread on time than to get 
so starved and all in with only t'-e sniffs 
and whiff.- from the kitchen to aggravate 
him. If these dinners must lie late and 
the company persists in coming poking 
along about the middle of the afternoon, 
then ban'll out the boys something 
promptly at noon. You might sacrifice 
a good squash pie on a worse altar. And 
when dinner comes if you see a half-eaten 
drumstick sort of being saved on tin- 
edge of a boy’s plate don’t think he 
doesn’t like it. It is because he is saving 
it to take out with him when he gets down 
the silage for the cows’ slipper. If at last 
he devours it in desperation, baud him a 
wing as he starts for tin- burn, it will 
-lighten h's footsteps wonderfully, arid 
make the flavor of the dinner last till long 
after the milking is done, and help the 
memory of the day to last till another like 
it comes swinging round. 
Who Knows How to Eat? 
The Fan Francisco Chronicle tells the 
following story : 
Fleeing before an epidemic an Indian 
family in the Peace Biver couutrj in the 
Canadian Northwest overlooked and left 
behind one of its numerous children. It 
was Autumn, and when the loss was dis¬ 
covered the parents were so far away they 
assumed that the wolves already had the 
child and did not even go ) hack to look. 
The lost child was an infant of four 
years, a boy. clad only in a ragged cot¬ 
ton shirt and drawers. But such was his 
will to live, his initiative, his endurance, 
that he went through the sub-arctic Win¬ 
ter and was fat and hearty when his 
parents came hack next Summer. Through 
the long months the only human he]p lu- 
received was when a passing Indian gave 
him a piece of an old blanket. The child 
picked up scraps of food and birch twigs, 
fought with Indian dogs for fragments of 
fish and slept throughout the Winter in 
shelters of his own contriving. 
IIow or where he obtained all the food 
necessary to keep him in good condition 
no one knows. What windfalls he may 
have had he was too young to tell. All 
that is known is that he fed somehow and 
that no one helped him. lie* helped him¬ 
self, though only four years old. 
There certainly was no lack of vitamines 
so far as one can judge. Probably this 
Indian hoy inherited a natural instinct 
for hunting food, and a natural ability 
for going without regular meals. We are 
told how many Indians have no regular 
time for meals, but eat whenever they 
happen to find food in their improvident 
life. No one who reads this, would care 
to turn out their own children for any 
such experiment. 
Yet it seems evident that much of our 
notions about needed food is not sound. 
Ntefannson, the great Northern explorer, 
points out that bauds of Europeans who 
went into the North on exploring trips 
have starved to death, while all around 
them Esquimaux and Indians wen* fat 
and strong—with an abundance of food. 
That was because the Europeans thought 
that the food t<> which they were accus¬ 
tomed was absolutely necessary in order 
to sustain life. The natives long in 
the region when* these men died, lived on 
seal meat and raw fish. 
After observing this fact, Stefannson 
announced his intention of going into the 
North without a supply of food. lie 
proposed lirintj on tliv ice, as one would 
on a fertile country. And he aud liis 
companions did it for more than a year. 
.They took a single dog team, carrying a 
tent, tools, medicine and clothing. A 
special form of lamp designed to burn 
blubber gave them light and heat, and 
they lived and kept well and strong on 
•the flesh of seals which are always to 
lie found on the ice. Bemember. they 
were not on land at.all, but on the ice 
which covered the ocean.' There must', 
have been vitamines in this seal flesh to 
overcome the effect of scurvy, but at any' 
rate, they-lived on the products of the 
ice and luive upset many old ideas. 
Siefannson now insists that before the 
next century the great solitary tract of ' 
cold country lyifig to the north of in¬ 
habited Canada will la- the great center of 
dairy, wool and meat production of the 
world. The dairy products and meat will' 
come from reindeer and the wool from 
the musk ox. Most people will smile at, • 
the vagary of a half-insane man. yet Stcf- 
anusou, having lived in the North, knows 
its pos-dbih'tji-s- better than anyone else. 
