ch the turkey and plum pudding appeared to be treated
almost like divinities. But never did I know, in boyhood, the family
reunion, the turkey or the pudding, so that these gatherings and dinners
are to me pictures and I regard them as I do the feasts of Homer's
heroes, pleasant to read of and to imagine. Some of our neighbors
celebrated the day in the customary manner and no doubt acknowledged the
goodness of the Divine Providence as enjoined by the Governor's
proclamation. But the bounty of the Divine Providence never travelled by
our lonely road, nor left a turkey or pudding at the door of the little
Red House. Saddest of all her sad days I think my mother felt it to be,
seeing the bounties and friends at the tables of others and unable to
make her own worthy of the occasion. She sometimes spared an aged and
unprofitable hen from her scanty flock and made us each a custard in an
earthen cup. For that day she brought out her only silver, six tea
spoons, and spread on her round table her only table cloth, hand-woven
and white as snow. In the evening we parched corn over the hearth fire.
My mother sat at one corner of the fireplace and by her side a tall
light stand, her candle, her Bible and her knitting. At bedtime she read
a chapter aloud, and kneeling, made a low, plaintive prayer, the burden
of which was always thankfulness and trust. I remember not the words,
but the tone still sounds in my ear. Thus returned from year to year my
four holidays until I was old enough to find the road that led from the
town and on which I now love to travel back and indulge a holiday of
memories.

THE AMPUTATION

Aside from the formal and appointed holidays, the events and days that a
country community most enjoyed were not numerous; yet their infrequency
and unexpectedness added a certain amount of zest to its monotonous
annals. A fire, an accident, a death, a raising, an engagement, a fight,
a new minister, even Miss Penniman's new style of gown from Boston were
not unwelcome excitements. They furnished food for talk, for wonder,
discussion and scandal.

Although there was a certain terror connected with the unusual event I
am about to describe, yet this did not deter me from looking forward to
it as a kind of holiday.

For a long time it had been rumored that our neighbor, Amos Partridge,
would have to lose his leg. He had what was called a white swelling on
his knee. Besides his house, Amos Partridge had a large barn