An extract from: THANKSGIVING: ITS ORIGIN, CELEBRATION AND SIGNIFICANCE AS RELATED IN PROSE AND VERSE,
EDITED BY ROBERT HAVEN SCHAUFFLER, NEW YORK,
MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY, Copyright 1907
THE OLD NEW ENGLAND THANKSGIVING
By HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
The king and high priest of
all festivals was the autumn Thanksgiving. When the apples were all gathered
and the cider was all made, and the yellow pumpkins were rolled in from many a
hill in billows of gold, and the corn was husked, and the labors of the season
were done, and the warm, late days of Indian Summer came in, dreamy, and calm,
and still, with just enough frost to crisp the ground of a morning, but with
warm traces of benignant, sunny hours at noon, there came over the community a
sort of genial repose of spirit, — a sense of something accomplished, and of a
new golden mark made in advance, — and the deacon began to say to the minister,
of a Sunday, " I suppose it's about time for the Thanksgiving proclamation."
