The record-union., 1896-11-26
A DELAYED THANKSGIVING DINNER.

l
has issued proclamation for a Thanks
giving Day on the same date as the
President has ordained for the United
| States.
! Usually the British Provinces have
theirs the eth of November, or at least
earlier In November than the Goth or
10th, as 1t is here. Now, we cam imagine
them having four hours and some min
utes the start of us in good digestion
which waits an appetite
The day brings a memory of one
Thanksgiving in Nova Scotia some
years ago.
hrssed by the waves of the broad At
IantIc; veiled by the moonlight shadows
OF Aspotogan nestles town guarded by
seven hills like those of Ancient Rome.
The drives from the town were many,
nearly all Of them on the return drive
| giving charming views of rivers and
bay, the last dotted with numberless
green islands. Roads winding around
cool, leafy, shaded lakes, or through
| pine woods where arching boughs met
| overhead, the road of silence being
plentifully covered With tanbark that
silenced every football. Lovers Lane
was another name for this, as a de-
voted pair could hear the faintest sigh
when travelling it. Tho why lovers
should sigh when happy is another
question.
! Autumn tints, brilliant and beautiful
! as they always are here, had faded to
| rusty browns. Only here and there
scarlet maple leaf trembled on the grey
twigs as if loath to leave. The blue
slate roads We're hard and smooth. a
| fine foundation for excellent sleighing
| later on.
1T was a cold, gray day, the 7th of
November, on the Thanksgiving Day Of
winch l write. The route on the is
land reef that always portended storm
filled the air with its booming noise.
| The curlewS We're calling as they ran
swiftly along the cold beach in search Of
stranded fish. A raw wind blew in gusts
from the bay. Some few boats were
out tossing on the gray waters, but
making for shore quickly as sails and
oars would take them.
My sister suggested to Auntie drive
| through the cool air as a bracer and
| antidote to the unusually dreary out
look OF land and sea. So they started
behind a sedate old family horse dubbed
the family ass so stupid was the old
beast and only warranted to go four
miles an hour if urged by strong and
| oft-repeated plyings of whip and rein
JACK, the racer. my pet, was not out
that day, and fortunate it proved, as
the sequel will show for their remains
If any, might have been brought home
| in a sieve.
The mail had just been delivered and
with their letters to read in their pock-
cts the two started off. Up the winding
road out Of town, over the hills, then
away to the left, past cozy farm houses
nesting on the hilliSdes. Over the bridge
that spanned Middle River, whose
waters rushed noisily and trubulantly
over large granite rocks. turn to the
right led through an evenue Of spruce
and pine, a typical forest road sheltered
from the cold winds and scented with
sweet odors OF resinous gums Of pine,
fir and spruce
The horse took his own time. as was
his custom, SO it was easy to read let
ters while giving him the reins.
small brown squirrels scampered
hastily away as the carriage came in
sight. A woodpecker pounded away
like an anxious carpenter trying to
finish job. A porcupine hustled off
| through the dead leaves with every
| quill emphasizing his fretful condition
at being disturbed in his rumaging
quest. Coveys of spruce partridges
new across the road, startling the rab-
bits into rush for safety. AS the car
riage went slowly but surely up the
steep hill. everything in sight seemed
In hurry except the horse
The top of the hill reached before
them was still another long one to
descend that wound in sinuous curves
along the river bank, shaded by a dense
growth of juniper and fir.
Just here my sister looked up from
i her letter to give an impatient little
| flick to the reins and say, "Oh, do get
up; don't go to Sleep but only a few
| steps would the horse take
| Something must be broken" she
said, springing from the carriage to
make an inspection Of the harness
| Everything appeared to be all right
| still the horse would not move a step
but stood trembling like leaf. while
great fiecks of foam stood out on his
| glossy sides
Nan, he must be sick" declared
Auntie, alighting from her seat What
ever will we do If he should drop dead"
And she looked around helplessly. A
movement in the hazel bushes at the
foot of the hill caught her eye. "Oh,
| there is man at the foot of the hilI,"
she said, in relieved tone Then in
ror-stricken voice she said: mo, TO,
Nan, it's bear; turn, turn quickly"
The willing horse backed and turned
neatly. Usually he took ten acre lot
| to turn in, but pure fright assisted the
beast to turn figuratively on a five
cent piece. Crushing tall hazel bushes
| as he turned the carriage, Auntie
| clambered back with more haste than
grace and the horse trotted briskly
down the hill they had just come up.
AS Auntie turned her head to glance
| back at the top of the hill she was
Mortified to see the bear following them
"Oh. Nan, he's coming, he's coming"
she walled.
Get up. get up" replied Nan. whip
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