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Show The Meaning op Thanksgiving Da g) Mary GSm ' I 'WO turkeys in the barnyard fj In were gobbling, and If we had I -tJj? been able to understand their HTjj? language this Is what we would have heard them saying, several days before the last , Thursday in November: "My father was at one of the merriest merri-est of scenes last year," said Mr. Gobbler. Gob-bler. "He was kept for our own jolly farmer, his wife and their four fine children. The farmer's wife dressed him up so well, cooked him until he was brown and tender, and then she seived him on a big platter as the principal part of the meal. To be sure, she had many other goodies, such as soup, stewed corn, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, squash, pumpkin pie, nuts and apple cider, but he was the " main thin?! He was the center of at- "My Father Was at One of the Merriest Merri-est of Scenes Last Year " traction, and when he was brought In on the platter, piping hot, the rosy-faced rosy-faced children screamed with delight and said : " 'Oh, isn't he a beauty !' The two boys ate as much as they could, so did the two little girls with the blue eyes ud the soft brown hair. And so did the mother and daddy. But even then toy father had not entirely vanished, and with one accord they said that they had never had such a Thanksgiving Thanksgiv-ing dinner." The turkeys, as well as the other creatures In the barnyard, had gathered gath-ered around to listen. "You are so proud of being eaten," said the pigs and ducks, "and how can you enjoy being be-ing proud your joy Is so soon over? Why do you want to be fed so much . when it only means that soon you can have no more to eat, because a hungry hun-gry family has eaten you?" "That's because you don't understand under-stand turkeys," said handsome Miss Turkey. "We consider it such a splendid splen-did honor to be eaten on such a notable nota-ble day. We are not eaten any time at all, like some creatures I know of." The other barnyard animals hung their heads. They knew of whom she spoke, and they were suddenly much quieter, clucking, quacking, grunting and squealing In low voices. Mr. Gobble, cousin of Mr. Gobbler, had begun to speak: "Your father was very fortunate In being the one i . IT ili.UMi Z-i- Mr. Gobble, Cousin of Mr. Gobbler, Had Begun to Speak. saved for the farmer's family. And a great treat he was. But listen to my tale of a greater treat." They all drew nearer. "Gobble, gobble, gobble," gob-ble," repeating his own name and the call of Turkey-land, "my father served a fur better purpose. "The farmer knew of a family in the city, far from here, where there are no barnyards and where there are streets and houses everywhere, Instead of hnytlelds and meadows and woods. The daddy of the family had once been a school friend of the farmer, but he had gone to the city to live, and he .had had a very hard time. He, too, had four children, but their faces were pale, and often, often they had not quite as much to eat as they needed. My father turkey was sent to this family." fam-ily." The turkey paused, gobbled three times, then began to talk again. "Ah, when my father arrived, there was such Joy ! The four children looked at the feet peeking out of the box. and there were some feathers left on his handsome legs and around his neck. 'He has fur boots,' they shouted, shout-ed, 'and a fur collar. Oh, what a rich bird he must have been i Isn't he too rich to eat?' "Thoy called him a rich bird they didn't know he was still greater than a rich bird one of the turkeys of the great Thanksgiving day. But their daddy told them how Mr. Turkey had come from the country, and that he would be cooked and would be eaten that day for their dinner as soon as he was nice and brown and while he floated In a little pond of gravy! "Now, wasn't my father the lucky one? He was used for children who had never known a Thanksgiving dinner din-ner before. And weren't they thankful? thank-ful? Oh, weren't they happy! Such a surprise as my father gave them, such a meal as he made for them, and how happy the little pale children were that there was a day In the three hundred hun-dred and sixty-five set aside for Thanksgiving and for turkeys ! "While you creatures In the barnyard barn-yard got so many of the goodies left from the Thanksgiving tnhle. fin did old Dan, the dog, get the bones from my father such bones as he had never nev-er before tasted. Even Dan knew the meaning of the day !" "We were both right," said Mr. Gobbler. Gob-bler. "My farmer's children were thankful because they knew they never nev-er had to long for food. They always had enough. They never needed to long for fresh air and a place for playing. play-ing. And they did not wish for something some-thing they did not have. So were the family to whom your father went thankful. They were happy they had each other and they were delighted to share your father and to have such a meal and treat. For them, too, there was Thanksgiving turkey. And they talked of better days ahead. "Yes," said Mr. Gobbler proudly, "Thanksgiving day is well named a holiday of giving thanks because we are eaten. Our fathers were eaten In both those homes the poor and the rich, and in both made happiness equally great. And so will we make happiness In a very few days." But back of Thanksgiving day, back of the Idea that eating a turkey is the Even Dan Knew the Meaning of the Day. great and important event of the day, there is something else. In 1621 the Plymouth colony In New England set aside one day of thankfulness thankful-ness thankfulness for what they had ; not for what they thought they should have. They had known hard days of self-denial and struggle. Yet they were thankful, for In a new land they saw great things ahead, and it Is our duty to see that their hopes were not in vain. Thanksgiving day the day to give thanks. But are we to be thankful on one day only, and then return to three hundred and sixty-four days of grumbling grumb-ling and of regret for what we don't possess? No ! Let us have one day as simply the first day of many, many others in which we are thankful for all we have. Not only for Mr. Turkey, who Is growing to be an expensive luxury lux-ury these days, but for those many things upon which all the hard times in the world will have no effect. Those things which riches can never buy the old, old gifts of health and laughter, laugh-ter, with the stars smiling upon us by night and the great warm sun beaming down upon us by day trying so hard to reach our hearts to keep them warm and sunny on all the days of the year beginning with Thanksgiving day. (Copyright, 1917. Western Newspaper Union.) |