The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1897-12-08
WHY SHOULD FOLKS BE THANK
Full? .9sr

some pertinent questions Tor the Pros
porous Mr.. Anger on Thanksgiving
Day.
Although the fig tree shall not BIOS
som, neither shall fruit be in the vines;
the labor of the olive shall fall, and the
fields shall yield no meat; the flock
shall be cut Off from the fold and there
shall be no herd in the stalls; yet I will
rejoice in the Lord, I will JOY in the God
OF my salvation"
An old Thanksgiving text, a very old
text, and we know of no loftier or more
sonorous note than this struck by Ha-
bakkul CHE that embraces" "The
| Wrestler"O; Habakkull Of the tribe of
Simeon, native of Bethzacar, carrier of
food to Daniel in the den of lions; Ha-
bakkuk, whose tomb, according to
learned rabbis, was shown in four
places.
His wants were probably few. Ac-
cording to one tradition he was a farm
err and did not disdain to carry to his
reapers their dinner. The guzzling and
gorging of this day in the name of
Thanksgiving would have vexed his
righteous SOUL for their mental and
bodily greed? Probably rude man in
speech and action one that would hard
ly feel at ease in modern church with
parlors and cooking range, one that
would be eyed sharply by the sexton If
he should ask for a seat.
But Habakkuk knew a spirit of
thanksgiving that is not another name
for a spirit of selfshness. You, Mr..
Anger are thankful to-day; you even
so to church, although the historic hab-
it, we regret to say, is fast becoming a
tradition; you will make good cheer this
evening. Why? Because you are alive,
because those nearest to you are still
well-to-do. These facts are of gigantic
Importance to you: they are a compli-
ment to your care of yourself, your
good luck, your fox-like shrewdness,
which you are pleased to call intellect.
1t was only yesterday that you said to
your chief clerk-he is now fifty years
old, and you pay him twenty-five dol
lars a weeaz-"Why do you look so blue?
Man, you ought to be thankful because
you are alive"
o death, how bitter is the remem-
brance of thee to man that liveth at
rest in his possessions, unto the man
that hath nothing to vex him, and that
hath prosperity in all things; yea, unto
lllll lIdL yel dplt " lOSClNC iASoeE
O death! acceptable is thy sentence
unto the needy, and unto him whose
strength faileth. that is now in the last
) age, and is vexed with all things, and
Ito him that despaireth, and hath lost
patience!
Thankful, because you are alive!"
\ Your clerk, Mr.. Anger, has wife. She
is dressmaker. She is not at the
head of an establishment; nor does she
own little shop in an unpretentious
street. She works patiently and hum
bly, with her hands. A year and half
ago she was taken sick, cruelty sick.
There was an operation. There was
weary life in the hospital. The doc
tors sent in bills amounting to $1100.
Mr.. Anger, this is true story We
know the man and the wife, and we
know the doctors. Your clerk is of old
fashioned New England stock he
thinks a debt should be paid. His wife
n is also cursed with an old-fashioned
New England conscience. They scrimp
themselves 'in every way. Your clerk
does extra work at night to pay those
bills Did the doctors consider for a
moment the modest circumstances of
the patient? They not only charged
the regular fee" they also take pleas
ure in sending their regular statements
to jog memory already tortured. Their
rich patients escape more easily al
though a bill may be neglected for a
year or two. The poor support the rich
And you wondered why Mr.. Blotter
looked glum. Did you give him any
thing to be thankful for to-day? There
are big-hearted merchants in town who
give a turkey to each one Of their help.
Did you give poor Blotter even a Cape
Cod turkey? And after his faithful SER
vice of a dozen years, you pay him $22 a
week, as though you were princely in
your dealing with him.
You, Mr.. Anger grumbled year ago
this very day, because your income was
smaller than usual. You said at tine
club, "What farce this day is! Why
should anybody be thankful" And
yet you had not denied yourself the in
dulgnce of whim or a luxury that
year
1t is true that thankfulness is a COM
parative term. 1t is a word defined in
various ways, according to the individ-
uality and the environment of the user.
Thus "the factory belle" in Reading,
Ia, VINO disappeared IiiysteElOuSiy the
day set for her wedding, IS thankful be-
cause she did not make the fatal vow.
my, what load is off my mind. How
sweetly I slept the past two nights. Is
not the country beautiful in all the des-
folation of the dying year" This poet
ical soul is happy and thankful to-day.
And there are women-even in Massa-
Ichusetts-who are not in thankful spirit
because they did not have Miss Good
harris luck or courage.
Nine-tenths of the conventional
thankfulneSs is rank selfishness There
are men and women in this city, who
were born respectfully, who received as
good an education as you did, Mr.. Au-
ger, or better one, who are quick
witted and eager to work; and yet, this
very day, without any fault of their
own, either by cruelty of circumstance
or the fraud Of a trustee, or the avarice
of employers, they are without work,
and without the prospect of work.
This is no new story. The martyrdom
of man is centuries old. This day
might be ironical to them on account Of
old associations, memories Of years
when they themselves were perhaps
little careless in their thought of the