. The Boston Cooking School magazine of culinary science and domestic economics. atfirst Thanksgiving day in old Plymouth. Ye governor had appointed a day ofthanksgiving, not as a religious observ-ance, but rather in accordance withthe world-old custom of making merryafter harvest. And then, in the truespirit of hospitality, just as eversince America has kept open house forall nations, the Pilgrims sent out andinvited in the great men among theIndians. And they came, ninety greedy bravessat down at the feast prepared bythose foremothers of ours, at theexpense of days and days of bakingand boil
. The Boston Cooking School magazine of culinary science and domestic economics. atfirst Thanksgiving day in old Plymouth. Ye governor had appointed a day ofthanksgiving, not as a religious observ-ance, but rather in accordance withthe world-old custom of making merryafter harvest. And then, in the truespirit of hospitality, just as eversince America has kept open house forall nations, the Pilgrims sent out andinvited in the great men among theIndians. And they came, ninety greedy bravessat down at the feast prepared bythose foremothers of ours, at theexpense of days and days of bakingand boiling. And all things were sogood to the palate of our untutoredred brother that they one and alldecided to pay the Pilgrim cooks thehighest possible compliment, that ofcontinuing to eat of their cooking. They stayed three days and mighthave been in old Plymouth yet, forall I know, had not our stern fore-fathers given them a polite, but effec-tual hint to take themselves off. This may, perhaps, be reckoned asthe first brilliantly successful socialfunction of the American Autumn Fruit with Wreath of Branches of Fresh Cranberries His Thanksgiving By A. T. Frost WHERES the brook gone,Bijah? inquired the childwistfully. Where s itgone ? Gone, echoed Bijah, with a loudlaugh, and, looking over his ulster-cladshoulder at his small passenger, why,sonny, that brook aint gone. Itsfrozen over tight, and its covered withsnow, too. Daisies all gone too, Bijah? Land, yes, returned the twelve-year-old driver, everythings frozenup. They were waiting in front of thecountry station until grandmothershould emerge from the waiting-roomand join them in the sleigh, and theyhad already waited for some-time. There she is; shes found her bag,announced Bijah triumphantly; Iknew shed get it; and, still holdingher recovered property, grandmother stepped into her place, and, with awheezy creak, they were ofL The child, curled up beside her onthe seat, sighed heavily, and thenseemed lost in thought, a
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjecthomeeco, bookyear1896
