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Updated: May 24, 2025
Alas! alas! ere autumn came How many hearts were weeping For her who 'neath the willow's shade Lay sweetly, calmly sleeping. Slowly the feeble light of a stormy morning broke over the village of S . Lucy's fears had been verified, for Thanksgiving's dawn was ushered in by a fierce, driving storm.
So Nan and Bert went out to find some other way of having fun. They wanted to have all the good times they could, as school would soon begin again. "But we'll have a vacation at Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year's," said Nan, as she and her brother talked it over. "Thanksgiving's a long way off," said Bert, with a sigh.
Let us make it a thanksgiving from the inmost heart." And now may we all, who have aught of ill dwelling in our hearts, go and be of kindly feeling one toward the other again. Let not the coming Thanksgiving's sun go down on our wrath. Let it not be merely a thanksgiving in words a day of feasting but a heart's feasting on peace and good will. The only son of his mother, and she was a widow.
But at length all was ready; the happy day had come, and all the little Novembers, in their best "bib and tucker," were seated in a row, awaiting the arrival of their uncles, aunts, and cousins, while their mother, in russet-brown silk trimmed with misty lace, looked them over, straightening Guy Fawkes's collar, tying Thanksgiving's neck ribbon, and settling a dispute between two little presidential candidates as to which should sit at the head of the table.
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