The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1907-11-22
OUR THANKSGIVING GUEST.
b Ka.Io chapIn House.

well remember our first Thanks
giving dinner in our pioneer days
in Kansas. always loved the
gentle story of the Pilgrims first
Thanksgiving, because it suggests the
homely incident / wish to relate.
The cruel unclaimed winds
scourged the barren prairies with vim
dictive fury. My mother, accustomed
to the feasts of New England, must
have felt the difference between the
old life and the new as she placed
the frugal meal for three on the
scant kitchen table. But the linen
was fine and white-we never fell
from white table linen even in those
days. And there was so much more
to eat than usual, that the Child
Afraid of the Prairies thought that
was feast. There was fried quail,
the result of my fathers long tramp
and unerring aim; can of Califor-
mia peaches; simple cake made for
this great occasion, and "broomhan-
die sQuashes," the sweetest and rich
est that ever came from cabin oven!
These were the gift of well loved
neighbor, brought by her all the way
from the next county, and / am sure
that they had no idea when they
were sapping the sun and the rain
on that farm how delicious they
would tastesto the cabin jewellers on
that stern, bleak Thanksgiving Day
II say had no idea, because IL they
had they would have grown larger.
But though they were not large, and
not anything like the sands of the
sea in number, still they were part
of our list of thankful for"
At last expectation and preparation
gave way to mastication, and the
feast was on! We were well settled
to the delights before us, when, in a
lull of the swirling wind, we heard
a strange picking at the door and in
stalked an Indian brave of command
ing presence and picturesque attire
Fear, the worst enemy of appetite,
assailed me and the delights of the
big dinner faded away. BY signs
and gutteral noises the Indian com
municated the fact that he was hun
Sly anu AO W. kAVlLO0 " IAO LdOlC
How fast the slender stock of good
things faded away. l remember no.
ticing that the canned peaches were
especial favorites of his. One thing
that amused us was his putting four
teaspoonfuls of sugar in his glass of
milk. My mother and /, unable to
eat, watched the stranger closely.
My father, too, soon finished his din
ner, but the Indian licked the plat
ter clean in a shot time.
His headdress and ornaments were
gorgeous. My mother, attracted by
the beautiful earrings he wore, de-
termined to count them. There were
fourteen pairs, all long and heavy
and very beautiful. The ear was
slit from the top of the lobe to the
bottom. The weight of such excess
sive jewelry held the slit open and
presented truly grewsome sight to
civilized eyes.
After warming himself thoroughly
he passed out silently into the storm
We bore our spoiled dinner cheerful
ly; thinking we had given to one
who needed it worse. Imagine our
disgust when we learned that our
house was the seventh at which he
had eaten Thanksgiving dinner
There is more than one way for a
gourmand to be rebuked, and out
ragged nature did the work this time
In the bitter night following his big
dinner day, he died in agony, and
there was lamentation in the tepees
of his tribe.
We suppose that he begged his first
dinner that day by chance and found
instead of the usual frugal meal an
extra nice dinner. He tried it again
and the rich food and strange dishes
tempted him to keep-like Billy
Goodwin eatin' an a eatin',"
until he wrought he own undoing.-
Good Housekeeping.