is very gray, and there are wrinkles on his
honest old face. He is lookin' through the winder at the Holyoke hills
over yonder, and I can guess he's thinkin' of the time when he wuz a
boy like me an' Amos, an' uster climb over them hills an' kill
rattlesnakes an' hunt partridges. Or doesn't his eyes quite reach the
Holyoke hills? Do they fall kind o' lovingly but sadly on the little
buryin' ground jest beyond the village? Ah, Father knows that spot,
an' he loves it, too, for there are treasures there whose memory he
wouldn't swap for all the world could give. So, while there is a kind
o' mist in Father's eyes, I can see he is dreamin'-like of sweet an'
tender things, and a-communin' with memory--hearin' voices I never
heard, an' feelin' the tech of hands I never pressed; an' seein'
Father's peaceful face I find it hard to think of a Thanksgivin'
sweeter than Father's is.

"The pictur' in the firelight changes now," said Ezra, "an' seems as
if I wuz in the old frame meetin'-house. The meetin'-house is on the
hill, and meetin' begins at half-pas' ten. Our pew is well up in
front--seems as if I could see it now. It has a long red cushion on
the seat, and in the hymn-book rack there is a Bible an' a couple of
Psalmodies. We walk up the aisle slow, and Mother goes in first; then
comes Mary, then me, then Helen, then Amos, and then Father. Father
thinks it is jest as well to have one o' the girls set in between me
an' Amos. The meetin'-house is full, for everybody goes to meetin'
Thanksgivin' Day. The minister reads the proclamation an' makes a
prayer, an' then he gives out a psalm, an' we all stan' up an' turn
'round an' join the choir. Sam Merritt has come up from Palmer to
spend Thanksgivin' with the ol' folks, an' he is singin' tenor to-day
in his ol' place in the choir. Some folks say he sings wonderful well,
but _I_ don't like Sam's voice. Laura sings soprano in the choir, and
Sam stands next to her an' holds the book.

"Seems as if I could hear the minister's voice, full of earnestness
an' melody, comin' from way up in his little round pulpit. He is
tellin' us why we should be thankful, an', as he quotes Scriptur' an'
Dr. Watts, we boys wonder how anybody can remember so much of the
Bible. Then I get nervous and worried. Seems to me the minister was
never comin' to lastly, and I find myself wonderin' whether Laura is
listenin' to what the preachin' is about, or is writin' notes to Sam
Merritt in the back of the tune