with proper spirit, is most effective.

A THANKSGIVING GROWL.

Oh, dear! do put some more chips on the fire,
And hurry up that oven! Just my luck--
To have the bread slack. Set that plate up higher!
And for goodness' sake do clear this truck
Away! Frogs' legs and marbles on my moulding-board!
What next I wonder? John Henry, wash your face;
And do get out from under foot, "Afford more
Cream?" Used all you had? If that's the case,
Skim all the pans. Do step a little spryer!
I wish I hadn't asked so many folks
To spend Thanksgiving. Good gracious! poke the fire
And put some water on. Lord, how it smokes!
I never was so tired in all my life!
And there's the cake to frost, and dough to mix
For tarts. I can't cut pumpkin with this knife!
Some women's husbands know enough to fix
The kitchen tools; but, for all mine would care,
I might tear pumpkin with my teeth. John Henry,
If you don't plant yourself on that 'ere chair,
I'll set you down so hard that you'll agree
You're stuck for good. Them cranberries are sour,
And taste like gall beside. Hand me some flour,
And do fly round. John Henry, wipe your nose!
I wonder how 'twill be when I am dead?
"How my nose'll be?" Yes, how _your nose'll_ be,
And how _your back_'ll be. If that ain't red
I'll miss my guess. I don't expect you'll see--
You nor your father neither--what I've done
And suffered in this house. As true's I live
Them pesky fowl ain't stuffed! The biggest one
Will hold two loaves of bread. Say, wipe that sieve,
And hand it here. You are the slowest poke
In all Fairmount. Lor'! there's Deacon Gubben's wife!
She'll be here to-morrow. That pan can soak
A little while. I never in my life
Saw such a lazy critter as she is.
If she stayed home, there wouldn't be a thing
To eat. You bet she'll fill up here! "It's riz?"
Well, so it has. John Henry! Good king!
How did that boy get out? You saw him go
With both fists full of raisins and a pile
Behind him, and you never let me know!
There! you've talked so much I clean forgot the rye.
I wonder if the Governor had to slave
As I do, if he would be so pesky fresh about
Thanksgiving Day? He'd been in his grave
With half my work. What, get along without
An Indian pudding? Well, that wo