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j | + TOMMS THANESEITING “They're Thanksgiving boots-” cried Tommy, exultingly, sticking them ovt. Tibbs sniffed scornfully. “It’s three days to Thanksgiving, and the turkey isn't killed yet-” “Don’t care!” stoutly, from Tommy. “Our turkey’s to be at grandpa’s, and they are Tharksgiving boots, for fath- er said so.” Tibbs looked unconvinced, but a hasty call from the powers that be took her into the kitchen to finish wip- ing the dishes. Tommy sat down and adnmived the boots afresh. It was in the days when little boys were granted boots as a proof of their coming man- hood, and Tommy’s were real, long boots, and none of your laced-up, or even buttoned, shoes. They had shiny tops and creaked beautifully. Every- body in the house attested this fact. Tommy had been compelled, within an hour from their purchase, to confine the creak to the barn floor or the gar- den. ys E an make ‘em creak at grand- ” he said, softly, to himself. ell like to hear ’em.” Tommy tramped in the boots all day over the barn and hen house, the gar- den and the fields. Then the boots grew stiff and tiresome to the little feet, unaccustomed to their use. Tom- my took them off and hid them in odd places, while he rested his feet in an old pair of shoes which he managed to smuggle out behind the barn, where he sat down and put them on. He was ashamed of this weakness, however, and went back to the boots again whenever he heard any one coming. But that night, after Tommy was asleep, his mother said, laughingly: “I guess Tonmy’s got tired of those boots, for 1 see hes changed them for the old shoes agair But Tomm far off to hear her. “The little chap’s tired,” said his father, patting Tommy’s curly head. “But how proud he was of those boots!” | ‘The next morning when Tommy woke up it was snowing. A thin sheet of snow covered the ground, and the flakes, thickly falling, looked black as Tommy gazed up into the sky. “Now we can go to grandpa’s in a sleigh!” cried Tibbs, gaily. “Yes,” echoed Tommy, “It'll be grand!” exclaimed who was four years older than Tom- | my. ‘It’s just twice the fun it is to} ride in the old carryal!l” “And grandpa’s never seen Tommy’s Thanksgiving boots yet-” said Tom- | my’s father, looking laughingly down | at bis small son. Tommy was six. Tommy’s mouth drooped, and the was in dreamland, too He Took Them Off to Rest His Feet. piece of corn bread he held in his hand fell upon his plate. “What's the matter, Tommy?” asked | Tibbs, watching biin “Nothing!” frowned Tommy, going | on with his breakfast unconcerned. “Where did you leave your boots?” asked Tommy mother. “I saw you had your old shoes on last night.” “Oh, somewhere,” mumbied Tommy. “I guess he put them in a safe place. Probably they are stif, he new," 1e- plied ‘Tominy’s fatter “But you can’t go out in them to-day, Tommy. You've got 2 cold now, and it’s snowing fast.” ‘fommy looked up in consternation. “All day?” “Yes, all day, if it snows all day. There will be plenty to do in the bouse. Mother has jellies and cakes to make to take over to grandma’s to- morrow.” Tommy's appetite for breakfast was gone. He managed to finish his piece of corn bread, but refused another, and presently he crept silently from the ta- ble and up the stairs to the nursery. “He’s gone to look at his ‘Thanksgiv- ing Boots, as he calls them, I should’nt wonder.” Tibbs laughed, in the wisdom of ten years old, helping mother to clear the table in the great process of cake-n ing. Tommy shut the nursery door, his small chair. He leaned his head on his small chair. He leandehis head on his hand, and the deep waters of afflic- tion came up and overwhelmed him. Where were those boots? It was a grave, an awful question. Casting about in’ his small, troubled mind, Tommy was unable to answer it. He remembered taking them off in the barn and putting them under the hay, He remembered taking them off in the chicken house. He thought that time he had put them in the oat bin, And it seemed to him as if, somehow, he took them off somewhere else, But he couldn’t tell, Where were they? Tom- my looked up at the fast-falling snow. He looked out at the thickly-covered garden, and the pasture, far beyond. He could see the woods, back of that. Who could say where those boots were? ‘Would they be all spoiled if they were out in the snow? Tommy was not afraid of the snow for himself. He liked it. He could stand any amount of it. But how about those Thanks- giving boots? Tommy would have evied, but he was six years old, and he felt, besides, that this was too deep a matter fer tears—not like a bumped head or an insult from Tibbs. And more than that —nobody—must—know—he—had — lost — those — boots—until—he—had—found | sat up straight in bed. Something said heaved a deep sigh. Then a more cheerful notion came to him. “P’raps I did leave them somewhere in the house,” he said to himself. Upon this idea he made a careful search of the nursery and bedrooms, and at in- tervals through the day of the whole house, even to the cellar and the china closets. Tibb’s doll house and his mother’s work-basket. His anxiety and worry deepened at each disappoint- ment, but he kept a stout heart. Lit- tle Trotters, his dog, walked gravely and faithfully after him, and he had faith enough to believe those boots would turn up somewhere. But they didn’t. The family joked Tommy about their non-appearance all day, but his father was too occupied and his mother too abstracted in jelly making and Tibbs too elated by the coming sleigh- He Walked Softly to the Window. ride to insist upon knowing exactly his reasons for not wearing them un- til to-morrow. In fact, when his moth- er had perceived that he was to be about the house all day, she had said sternly: “Tommy, don’t take those boots out of the closet to-day. I can’t stand the noise.” And Tommy had an- swered meekly, “No, ma’am.” His conscience reproached him for that fib when he said his prayers that night. “Well, I believe I did leave them in a closet—the harness closet in the barn,” he muttered. “I’ll get ’em first thing in the morning.” “It’s stopped snowing!” Tibb’s voice came gayly from the next room. “We will have a grand ride to-morrow. Where's Trotters?” “Don’t know,” Tommy grunted. “Never <znind, Tibbs; let him go to sleep,” and mother turned the light down and walked off. How long ‘Tom- my slept he never knew. Suddenly he ly and distinctly: “You left those boots in the old cow- house at the end of the orchard.” “So 1 did!’ answered Tommy’s as- tonished little heart. He crept out of his crib and walked softly to the win- dow. The moon shone brightly. The snow lay white and smooth, with paths broken here and there, as they were wanted. It was all quite familiar to ‘Tommy. He could even see the old cow-house by pressing his face against the pane. “If I could dress myself I could go down and get ’em before anybody waked up!” The room was comfortable. Tommy could dress himself—after a fashion. His trembling little fingers drew on his stockings and shoes, and he got into his clothes, which lay upon the chair. At the door he concluded it looked cold out, and gravely took a small blanket from his bed, drawing it about his shoulders as he had seen his father do ina storm. Then he walked down stairs and through the kitchen door. “They ought not to leave this door unfastened,” thought Tommy as he opened it with grave propriety. “A burglar might get in!” After that it was harder work. The path near the house was broken, but the road down through the orchard had only been walked over a couple of times, and Tommy’s small legs sank deep into the foot-prints. “It’s awful cold,” shivered Tommy. “But I know those boots are there!” Dripping with the soft snow and with chilled hands and half-frozen toes, Tommy pushed open the door ot the old hou As he did so a familiar “Yap, yap!” greeted him. “Why, it’s Trotters! and , yes—he’s taking care of my boots!” Well, so he was! Tommy always as- serted that Trotters knew he was look- ing for those boots, and that he walked off to where he remembered they were to take care of them until Tommy should come. And at the sight of ‘Trot- ter’s devotion Tommy’s brave little el “It's Awful Cold,” Shivered Tommy. heart, that he had carried all day in his hopeless searching, suddenly gave way. Down on the floor of the old cow-house he sat with Trotters in his arms and cried as if his heart would break. ‘Trotters never told anybody about it. He licked Tommy’s face and cud- dled up to him, and Tommy, when his the next morning when Tommy was missed. He was looked for up and down stairs, here, there and every- where. Father, mother, Tibbs, the hired girl, and Peter, the man, and Dolf, the big dog, joined in the hunt. It was Dolf that found the pair. He it was that found Tommy’s smail foot- prints and dashed through the snow down to the old cow-house. There Tommy and Trotters were discovered, just waking up to a realization of the fact that it was Thanksgiving morning and that it behooved him to walk home to breakfast. They didn’t walk home, that is, Tom- my didn’t. He was carried in some- body’s arms, who whispered: “Tommy, Tommy, how could you frighten us so?” “It was for my boots, my Thanks- giving boots, father. Couldn't have Thanksgiving without ’em!” whispered Tommy. “The boots might be safe or not, Tommy. But how could we have a Thanksgiving without Tommy?” And so Tommy and Trotters and the boots and everybody had a 'Thanksgiv- ing together. ' The Hebrews Observed it First—His- tory of the American Day. Of course, the idea of a Thanksgiving Day, is not original with the Pilgrim Fathers. It is as old as mankind. The Hebrews observed it, first, as the festi- yal of first fruits, and then as the feast of tabernacles. The Greeks had it, and so did the Romans. In later times it was a day set apart in the countries of Europe. Long before the Pilgrim Fathers left Holland’ it was a day well known both in Holland and in Eng- land. In “Hudigras” it is spoken of as a day quite well understood. For Hudibras ,who thought he’d won ‘The field as certain as a gun, And having routed the whole troop, With victory cock-a-hoop; ‘Thinking he'd doue enough to purchase Phanksgiving Day among the churches. But, however ancient the origin of the day, our particular observance dates from the Pilgrim Fathers. As a matter of history, they only appointed a Thanksgiving Day when they had something to be thankful for, and in their bad or unfruitful years did not observe the day, and it did not become an annual custom in New England un- til about the year 1689. It took it years and years longer to extend to the other states, though there are in- stances of such a day being set apart in New York prior to the Revolution. During the Revolutionary war the Continental congress appointed a day of Thanksgiving every year, until the war ended, the last being in 1784, and was a day of great rejoicing for the peace. In 1789 President Washington, at the suggestion of congress, appoint- ed Noy. 28 as a day of national thanks- giving for the successful inauguration of the new government. This was the first of the presidential Thanksgivings. Again, in 1795, Washington issued a second Thanksgiving proclamation, on account of the suppression of the whis- ky insurrection. The next presidential recommendation of Thanksgiving was by President Madison, in April, 1815, on account of peace with England. After this, until Lincoln's time, there were no presidential calls for the ob- servyance of the day. Since 1863 the last Thursday in November has been appointed as the day of national Thanksgiving. Before 1863 the gov- ernors of many of the states appointed the day, though it was many years be- fore the custom extended beyond New England and the Middle States. As late as 1858 only eight of the governors of the Southern States issued Thanks- giving proclamations. The Importance of Thanksgiving. “The importance of the Thanksgiv- ing festival lies in the fact that on this day the people of America are called upon to attribute their happiness, peace and prosperity, not to the genius of Washington or Lincoln, not to the victories of Grant, or tne astute states- manship of this or that great president or politician, but to the love and mercy and power of Almighty God. We re- gard the yearly appointment of a day of national thanksgiving as the hap- piest, the most dignified, the best method that a great country could re- sort to in vindicating: itself from the charge of irreligion, andplacing itself on the same plane with other Christian nationalities. The institution of this day proclaims as well to the American people as to the world at large, the reality of that declaration, which is a declaration of dependence ,and is writ- ten on what we must call, after all, the basest, because it is the most ma- terial symbol of American greatness— that declaration which contains in it- self all the essential features of a vow —In God we trust. Through all its political vicissitudes, through all the struggles of class with class, or right with wrong ,of light with darkness, the American people on Thanksgiving Day recognizes the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ as the sole source of all things good, the sole guide which this republic can rely upon toward the righteousness which exalteth a na- tion.”—Churchman. * A Beautiful Custom. Our beautiful national custom of set- ting apart a day of Thanksgiving an- nually must never be suffered to fall into desuetude. The home day, when the clans gather and rally, and bearded men, having traveled for days, arrive breathless and eager at the old thresh- old to keep Thanksgiving among kith and kin, when troops of grandchildren surround the old table, and when all the land is thrilled and moved because of the great feast—this day is so pecu- liarly our very own that we must al- ways hold it dear.. Its religious and its social character should continue to be interchangeable, and the consecration to God should but make the separate- ness of its home joys the more pre | cious. Thankful in spirit, yes, we may be this, though we have our private and personal griefs, our hours of lonliness. Then, to comfort someone else may be our best consolation, to uplift some bowed-down soul, our own signal for exaltation—Mrs. M. E. Sangster. pent-up feelings were relieved, wrap- ped the heavy blanket around Trotters and himself, and in the hay in the cor- ner of the cow-house, with the moon peeping through the window, the little —them—again. Tommy nodded his bead gravely at this thought, then he boy and the dog slept peacefully till morning. There was a great outcry “It May Last. — Uncle Ned—What are you going to be when you grow up, Tommy? ‘Tommy—I'm going to be a soldier in the Guban war.—Puck. ‘ enterprise July 4, 1817. One fact is worth a column of rhetoric. It isa fact established by the testimony of thous- ands, that Hood’s Sarsaparilla does cure scrofula, salt rheum, catarrh, and other diseases and affections arising from impure state or low condition of the blood. It also overcomes that tired feeling, creates a good appetite, and gives strength to every part of the system. Get only Hoods Sarsaparilla The Best—in fact the One True Blood Purifier. Hood’s Pills i 2oy Mints? * Waking Care of the Colts ‘The season has arrived when the weanling colts should be especially cared for and not be exposed to the cold rains and slects of early winter. The foundation laid in the constitution of the colt determines the usefulness and value of the horse. ‘here is too much carelessness among the breeders in their attention to the comfort of the growing colts. If they are exposed to the cold rains and sleets they are lia- ble to contract the distemper and lose their growth during the winter. and the profit in horse-raising, as in cattle- raising, is largely determined by early maturity, and this cannot be accom- plished without liberal feeding and reasonable protection from the incle - ency of the weather. The colt should be taught to eat grain while following de and be given a generous ra- 1 during the first winter, in order to insure permanent growth. 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The hair and coat of cattle are also similarly {m- proved when oil meal is fed.—Farm, Stock and Home. How's This! We offer One Hundred Dollars reward for any of catarrh that cannot be ; Were in good condition when winter set | Noy. 19, was at the rate of 38.5 bushels | ber acre. cured by H Catarrh Cure. F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, 0. We, the undersigned, have known F. J. Cheney for the last fifteen years, and be- lieve him perfectly honorable in all business transacticns and financially able to. carry out any obligations made by their firm. West & Truax, Wholesale Druggists, To- ledo. Ohio. Walding, Kinnan & Marvin, Wholesale Dr Toledo, Ohio. Hall’s Catarrh Cure is taken internally, acting directly upon the blood and mu- cous surfaces of the system. Testimonials sent free. Price 75e per bottle. Sold by all druggis' i St. Moritz, Switzerland, has the champion toboggan slide of the world. i narters of a mile long, aud Physicians Wise in Their Generation above ie class of scientists recognize, hi y borne testimony to the eflicacy of Hostetter's Stomach Bitters as a remedy and preventive of fever and ague, rheumatism, want of vigor, liver complaint, and some oth ailments and infirm condi- em. Experience and obser- vation have taught them its value. They but echo the verd Jong since pronounced by the public and the press. Only the be- nighted n are ignorant of America’s tonic aud alterative. Th Arrangements for the training of British infantry next winter are to be on a more elaborate scale than usual, and especial prominence 1s to be given tc long-distance snatching. An Important Difference. To make apparent to thousands, who think themselves ill, that they are not afflicted with any disease, but that the system simply needs cleaning, is to bring comfort home to their hearts, as a costive condition is easily cured by using Syrup of Figs. Manufactured by the California. Fig Syrup Company only, and sold by all druggists. A Natural Vacancy. “It seems to me,” observed the can- nibal chieftain, as he explored the gravy bowl, “that this roast is a little short on giblets.. Ah-” A sudden intelligence beamed from his face. “This is the one who sobbed her heart out on her father’s shoulder, isn’t it? Yes.”—New York Press. « The revenue of Victoria for the past quar- ter amounted to £1,544,092, showing a de- crease of £7,074, as compared with the corresponding period of the last year. Just try a 10c box of Cascarets, the finest liver and bowel regulator ever made. ‘The Erie canal, in New York, was the first artificial waterway begun in this country. Ground was brok-1: for this A scheme talked of is a company to im- port American cattle, with Cardiff as its distributing port. ‘he capital of the new organization will be £30,000. Of 18,106 persons. arrested for various of- Sowing Spring Wheat in the Fall, | To dcternine the practicability of sowing spring wheat in fall, and also, the time to sow for best results, fifteen sowings of a veriety known as Yellow- stone Fife were made at different in- tervals during the fall of 1894 by the Montana Experiment staticn at Boze- man. Beginning Aug. 9, a small plat Was sown-each week until the ground was frozen and winter began, Nov. 19. Early seedings made a nice growth and in, but later sowings were just coming uy. Early plantings almest wholly | killed out, apd the intermediate only Partially, and the latest showed no | Gamage from the winter-killing, the stand being almost perfect. The plats were irrigated twice and kept free from weeds. The first six plats sown. from Aug. 9 to Sept. 14, gave an aver- age yield of 3.8 bushels per acre. The next five plats, seeded from Sept. 21 to Oct. 10, yielded an average of 12.7 bushels per acre. The average yield of the four plats, sown from Oct. 26 to Cascarets stimulate liver, kidneys and bowles. Never sicken, weaken or gripe. Pushing Him Along. “How much will you give me toward the missionary cause this year?” in- quired the pastor. “Ten dollars,” replied the parisioner. “T am indeed rejoiced at your liber- ality, especially as Brother Cadd, of our church, sails next week as a mis- sionary to China.” “What! the man who wears a silk hat with a sack coat, has a soiled col- lar and a diamond pin, and asks me if it is hot enough you?” “The same.” . “Make it $100, and call on me for more whenever you need it.”’—Texas Siftings. There are thirty-eight letters in the Rus- slan alphabet. He Was Willing. b: ‘There was a little boy whose mother had made a little Lord Fauntleroy ef him, training his hair in curls am}. dressing him in black velvet knicke»> bockers and jacket, ornamented with white lace. One day a large girl thought t» frighten the picturesque little chap by rushing toward hom brandis! as large pair of scissors and excla‘ = “Tl cut off your curls!” The little Lord Fauntleroy was net frightened. He merely replied, n & shrill voice: “Wish you would-’—Pittsburg Chrom- icle Telegraph. The Indiana Farmer says: Inves® the hundred dollars for the boy in @ colt rather than in a wheel. In twe years the colt will have eaten about half as much as the wheel has, and the boy likes him better every day, be cause it is growing in value ,and the idea of profitable investment is im- planted. “Tt will go away after awhile.” That’s what people say when advised to take something to cure that cough. 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The two hemispheres have been explored in’ search of attractive matter, The Youth's Companion In addition to twenty-five staff writers fully two hundred of the most famous men and women of both the Old and the New World, including the most popular writers of fiction and some of the most eminent statesmen, scien- tists, travellers and musicians, are contributors to The Companion. A delightful supply of fascinating Stories, Adventures, Serial Stories, Humorous and Travel Sketches, etc., are announced for the Volume for 1897. The timely Editorials, the ‘‘ Current Events,” the 700 Large Pages in Each Volume. ho ‘and address and $1.75 (the subscription price) FREE— The Youth's Companic ‘from time ceived to January 1, 1897 ; Christmas and New Year's Double Numbers THE YOUTH’S COMPANION, Boston, Mass. 7 its seventy-first birthday, For the Whole Family. and Science” Departments give week. Send for Full Prospectus. Distinguished Writers IAN MACLAREN. RUDYARD KIPLING. HALL CAINE. a FRANK R. 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