1452  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
Boys  and  Girls 
By  Edward  M.  Tuttle 
When  we  write  our  “thankful  list”  let  us  put  down  Our  Page 
and  not  forget  that  is  the  spirit  which  makes  us  enjoy  it  so  much 
Drawn  by  Esther  Herr, 
Memory  Verse 
THANKSGIVING,  THEN  AND  NOW 
Years  ago  was  first  Thanksgiving, 
When  the  settlers  met  for  prayer ; 
Virgin  forest  all  about  them, 
Danger  lurking  everywhere; 
Rough-hewn  logs  their  only  dwelling, 
Scanty  oft  their  daily  fare. 
But  they  gave  thanks  for  their  blessings, 
For  the  harvest  safe  in  store; 
Though  they  kept  the  day  with  feasting, 
Still  to  them  it  meant  much  more. 
Can  we  not  keep  our  Thanksgiving 
As  they  did  in  days  of  yore? 
Kept  it  not  alone  with  feasting. 
Not  alone  with  mirth  and  play, 
But  with  thanks  for  countless  blessings 
That  have  brightened  all  the  way ; 
So  with  earnest  hearts  and  grateful, 
Let  us  keep  Thanksgiving  Day  ! 
— Grace  Bulkley. 
Sent  by  Evelyn  Ivakely 
New  York.  (12  years) . 
If  I  had  a  wishing  cap  I  would  wish 
that  Thanksgiving  Day  might  be  as  love¬ 
ly  out  of  doors  as  it  is  today  (Nov.  5). 
It  is  so  bright,  so  mild,  so  balmy — an 
Indian  Summer  day.  The  grass  is  still 
green  and  the  leaves  are  still  falling.  A 
Drawn  by  Pearl  Fisher,  New  Jersey 
walk  now  through  fields  and  ivoods  is  full 
of  interest.  This  afternoon,  as  every 
afternoon,  our  boys  and  girls  will  come 
pouring  out  from  sehoolhouses,  linger  a 
bit  about  the  building,  and  then  set  off 
in  all  directions,  going  singly  or  in  little 
groups.  Fortunate,  on  such  a  day,  are 
those  who  have  a  little  distance  to  go,  and 
who  perhaps  can  “cut  across  lots”  to  en¬ 
joy  the  full  glory  of  the  Autumn  as  it  is 
revealed  in  quiet  places. 
But  all  days  cannot  be  alike,  nor  would 
we  want  them  so.  I  think  that  no  two 
are  ever  just  alike  and,  though  we  travel 
the  same  path  day  after  day  the  seasons 
through,  we  may  find  something  new 
each  single  day  if  our  senses  are  in  tune 
with  Nature.  Even  the  cold,  gray  days, 
the  wild,  windy  days  and  the  stormy 
days  have  their  place,  and  hold  a  charm 
and  interest  of  their  own  if  we  are 
dressed  to  meet  them  without  discomfort 
as  we  journey  to  and  fro 
However,  on  Thanksgiving  Day,  wheth¬ 
er  or  not  the  sun  shines  out  of  doors  it 
can  always  be  shining  within  our  homes 
where  young  and  old  gather  in  family 
groups  to  celebrate  the  festival  of  harvest 
time.  It  is  a  specially  happy  time  for 
boys  and  girls,  and  I  hope  that  every 
reader  of  Our  Page  may  be  able  to  look 
back  upon  this  1923  Thanksgiving  as  one 
of  the  brightest  memories  of  all.  It  will 
be  if  we  bear  in  mind  that  our  own  hap¬ 
piness  comes  most  surely  when  we  make 
others  happy. 
Now  this  page  of  ours  is  ready — a  spe¬ 
cial  number  for  Thanksgiving  Day.  And 
it  is  good  and  full  of  interesting  and 
worth-while  things  made  possible  by  those 
readers  whose  names  appear  on  page  1458. 
Truly  they  may  feel  that  they  have  helped 
give  pleasure  to  many  thousands  of  boys 
and  girls  in  many  different  places. 
(14  Years),  Pennsylvania 
Thanksgiving  Day 
Pies  of  pumpkin,  apple,  mince, 
.Tams  and  jellies,  peach  and  quince, 
Purple  grapes  and  apples  red, 
Cakes  and  nuts  and  gingerbread — 
That’s  Thanksgiving. 
Turkey  !  Oh,  a  great  big  fellow, 
Fruits  all  ripe  and  rich  and  mellow, 
Everything  that’s  nice  to  eat, 
More  than  I  can  now  repeat — 
That’s  Thanksgiving. 
Lots  and  lots  of  jolly  fun. 
Games  to  play  and  races  run, 
All  as  hapy  as  can  be — 
For  this  happiness  you  can  see 
Makes  Thanksgiving. 
We  must  thank  the  One  who  gave, 
All  the  good  things  that  we  have, 
Tliat  is  why  we  keep  the  day 
Set  aside,  our  mothers  say. 
For  Thanksgiving. 
— Eugene  Field. 
Sent  by  Maereta  Ilershey  and  Miriam 
Kachel,  both  of  Pennsylvania. 
A  Story  of  the  Pilgrims 
Many  years  ago  the  Pilgrims  came  to 
this  country.  They  came  in  a  small  ship 
called  the  Mayflower.  The  Pilgrims  land¬ 
ed  in  1620  at  a  place  near  Cape  Cod 
which  they  called  Plymouth.  The  first 
Winter  was  a  very  hard  one,  and  many 
did  not  live  to  see  the  Spring.  When  the 
‘Spring  came  the  Pilgrims  planted  the 
corn  which  the  Indians  gave  them.  They 
worked  hard  all  Summer,  and  when  Au¬ 
tumn  came  they  had  a  fine  harvest.  One 
day  the  Pilgrims  said  “God  has  been  good 
«to  us.  Let  us  set  one  day  apart  and  have 
Drawn  by  Hardin  Hill  (15  Years), 
Virginia 
a  big  Thanksgiving  feast.”  They  invited 
the  Indians  to  the  feast.  Before  they  ate, 
the  Pilgrims  asked  God’s  blessing  on  the 
feast. 
Thanksgiving  is  observed  with  most 
zest  in  New  England,  but  Thanksgiving 
has  been  observed  annually  in  New  York 
since  1817,  and  from  1863  the  Presidents 
have  always  appointed  the  last  Thursday 
in  November  as  Thanksgiving. 
DOROTHY  DENTON 
New  York.  (12  years). 
A  Thanksgiving  Wish 
If  you  tiptoe  to  the  kitchen, 
When  no  one  is  around ; 
If  you  peep  into  the  pantry, 
And  never  make  a  sound  ; 
Your  eyes  will  get  like  saucers 
Because  of  what  you  see ; 
“Tomorrow,”  you  will  say. 
“They’ll  all  belong  to  me.” 
There’s  mince  pies  in  this  corner, 
And  pumpkin  pies  in  that, 
Cranberries  in  this  basket, 
Some  nuts  in  Dad’s  old  hat. 
If  you  look  a  little  closer, 
Lift  the  lid  upon  the  pot, 
You  will  see  that  bad  old  turkey 
That  chased  you  ’round  the  lot. 
And  you  will  smack  your  lips,  just  so, 
And  then  say  “Oh,  dear  me ! 
Wish  there  were  more  Thanksgivings ; 
One  isn’t  enough  for  me.” 
By  MARY  POLHEMUS 
New  York.  (13  years). 
A  Little  Letter 
This  is  what  we  are  going  to  do 
Thanksgiving  Day.  There  are  going  to 
be  11  of  us  to  eat  Thanksgiving  dinner 
together — father,  mother,  grandmother, 
three  aunts,  two  uncles,  a  friend,  my  sis¬ 
ter  and  I.  We  are  going  to  have  a  goose, 
a  guinea  and  a  chicken,  mashed  potatoes, 
sweet  potatoes,  celery,  squash,  cranberry 
sauce,  mince  pie,  pumpkin  pie  and  rice 
pudding.  Of  course  we  shall  have  bread 
and  butter,  also  milk  and  water.  I  am 
going  to  recite  this  little  verse  before  we 
eat : 
We  thank  Thee  for  the  harvest 
Now  safely  stored  away. 
Dear  Father,  hear  us  thanking  Thee 
This  glad  Thanksgiving  Day. 
LOUISE  IIATCn 
Connecticut.  ( 5  years ) . 
Louise  sent  this  letter  in  her  own  hand¬ 
writing,  and  a  very  good  looking  letter 
it  was  indeed  for  a  little  girl  five  years 
old.  Besides  that  she  made  a  couple  of 
drawings  and  chose  a  memory  verse  and 
copied  it  to  send.  So  you  see  how  even 
the  youngest  readers  are  helping  Our 
Page  along. 
Thanksgiving  Prayer 
The  Autumn  perfect  as  Your  love, 
Lies  over  all  the  land ; 
And  in  each  field,  each  glowing  tree, 
We  see  Your  precious  hand. 
And  so  in  every  wayside  church, 
Our  grateful  hearts  we  raise 
To  thank  YTou  for  lTour  mercies, 
Upon  this  day  of  days! 
— Margaret  E.  Sangster. 
Selected  by  IVAN  rrink 
Pennsylvania.  (8  years). 
Teddy’s  Thanksgiving 
(a  story) 
Teddy  was  but  a  small  boy,  and  like 
all  boys,  looked  only  for  fun.  Thanks¬ 
giving  to  him  was  a  day  when  he  didn’t 
have  to  go  to  school,  and  when  he  tried 
to  eat  all  he  could,  and  that  was  just 
about  all  till  a  certain  Thanksgiving 
came  and  Teddy  found  out  it  was  a 
great  deal  more  than  just  a  dinner,  after 
all.  Teddy  had  always  spent  his  Thanks¬ 
giving  away  from  home  at  his  aunt’s  in 
the  country.  And  Teddy  was  waiting 
for  the  day  to  come.  But  when  lie  hop¬ 
ped  out  of  bed,  to  his  great  surprise  it 
was  snowing  very  hard.  Poor  Teddy  hur¬ 
ried  to  his  mother.  “Can  we  go?”  asked 
Teddy,  as  he  looked  out  of  the  window 
very  thoughtful  like.  “No.”  replied  his 
mother.  “It  would  be  impossible  to  travel 
out  in  the  country.”  Poor  Teddy  began 
to  cry.  He  said  things  that  made  his 
mother  very  sad.  So  at  last  she  took 
Teddy  on  her  knee.  “Teddy,  you  are 
crying  today  and  you  are  sad  when  every¬ 
one  ought  to  be  thankful.”  “But  what 
have  I  to  be  thankful  for?”  asked  Teddy. 
Poor  Teddy,  he  had  never  been  taught  to 
be  thankful.  “Well,”  said  his  mother, 
“for  one  thing  you  can  be  thankful  you 
have  a  father,  a  mother,  a  good  home  and 
plenty  to  eat.”  “Well,  I  always  have,” 
said  Teddy.  “Yes,  but  there  are  lots  of 
.little  boys  who  have  no  mother  or  father 
and  no  home.  Thanksgiving  is  a  day 
when  the  Lord  wants  every  one  to  be 
thankful  and  happy,  too.”  Now  Teddy 
had  never  heard  this  before.  “Oh.”  said 
Teddy,  “so  that’s  what  Thanksgiving  is 
for.  And  when  did  it  begin?”  “In  1621.” 
said  his  mother.  “It  was  like  this.  The 
first  Winter  the  Pilgrims  came  over  was 
a  hard  Winter,  cold  and  long.  So  many 
of  them  died.  They  were  afraid  of  the 
Indians,  too.  And  the  next  Summer  they 
had  good  crops,  and  so  they  wanted  to 
thank  God  for  his  blessing,  and  so  they 
had  a  great  dinner  and  invited  a  great 
many  Indians.  They  went  to  church  and 
thanked  God  for  His  goodness  to  them. 
And  that  was  the  first  Thanksgiving 
Day.”  “Oh,”  said  Teddy,  “wasn’t  that 
fine!  I  can  be  thankful  we  are  warm 
and  have  plenty  to  eat.  Now  I’m  glad  I 
couldn’t  go  so  you  told  "me  this  story.” 
RUTH  DUDLEY 
Connecticut.  ( 15  years ) . 
Thanksgiving  Day 
November  is  a  gray  old  month. 
He  brings  the  frost  and  snow  ; 
He  turns  to  brown  the  scarlet  leaves, 
November  24,  1923 
And  bids  the  songbirds  go. 
But  underneath  his  sober  coat, 
His  heart  is  blithe  and  gay, 
And  he  it  is  who  brings  the  glad 
Thanksgiving  Day. 
He  shakes  the  nuts  from  woodland  trees, 
To  feed  the  thrifty  squirrels ; 
And  purple  grapes  and  apples  red 
He  brings  for  boys  and  girls. 
He  heaps  the  leaves  for  bonfires  bright 
When  dusk  would  end  our  play, 
And  sings  around  the  firelight  on 
Thanksgiving  Day. 
— Mary  Sanford  Morison. 
Sent  by  olive  biker 
New  York.  (13  years). 
From  a  Boy  Reader 
I  have  not  written  to  Our  Page  for  a 
couple  of  months,  but  I  have  not  forgot¬ 
ten  it.  I  always  look  for  it  the  first 
thing  when  we  get  The  Rural  New- 
Yorker.  I  think  it  is  a  great  thing  that 
we  boys  and  girls  can  have  a  page  all 
our  own  in  such  a  good  paper.  It  not 
only  gives  us  pleasure  in  taking  part  to 
help  make  the  page  a  success,  but  it  also 
gives  us  a  feeling  that  we  are  helping  to 
make  the  world  a  better  place  to  live  in 
by  doing  our  best.  If  everyone  would 
only  “do  his  best”  whatever  he  does  this 
would  be  a  better  and  happier  world.  I 
for  my  part  will  try  to  do  my  best  what¬ 
ever  I  do.  Let  all  of  us  readers  and  con¬ 
tributors  to  Our  Page  resolve  to  make 
that  resolution,  and  keep  is  as  long  as  we 
live.  It  would  be  a  good  plan  if  we 
would  make  small  signs  with  that  resolu¬ 
tion  written  on  them  and  hang  them  in 
our  bedrooms  where  we  would  see  them 
every  day.  Then  we  wouldn’t  forget  it. 
The  answer  to  the  puzzle  is  Winter. 
Winter  is  a  jolly  old  time,  especially  for 
us  young  people.  There  are  coasting, 
skiing,  skating  and  a  variety  of  other 
helpful  sports  that  help  make  Winter  a 
real  enjoyable  time.  We  should  all  look 
forward  to  it  with  great  anticipation. 
We  should  be  very  thankful  to  God  at 
all  times  for  what  He  does  for  us,  but 
especially  at  this  time  for  the  bountiful 
crops  that  wTe  have  harvested.  We  know 
that  it  has  all  been  due  to  His  lovin'- 
care.  We  have  had  rain  to  refresh  the 
growing  things  when  it  was  needed  and 
sunshine  to  help  make  them  grow'.’  411 
in  all,  it  has  worked  a  miracle  by  pro¬ 
ducing  bountiful  crops  of  vegetables  from 
only  little  seeds.  We  know  that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  us  to  accomplish  any¬ 
thing  so  wonderful  without  His  help. 
New  Hampshire.  earl  anderson. 
Thanksgiving  at  Grandma’s 
It  seems  ter  me  if  I  could  have  my  say 
’bout  everything, 
I’d  have  Thanksgiving  Day  come  every 
Fall  an’  every  Spring. 
Drawn  by  Dawn  Wilson  (14  Years),  New  York 
