e in advance on the calendar
of life--and the deacon began to say to the minister, of a Sunday, "I
suppose it's about time for the Thanksgiving proclamation."

[Footnote 7: Adapted from "Oldtown Folks," Houghton, Mifflin Co.]

Conversation at this time began to turn on high and solemn culinary
mysteries and receipts of wondrous power and virtue. New modes of
elaborating squash pies and quince tarts were now ofttimes carefully
discussed at the evening firesides by Aunt Lois and Aunt Keziah, and
notes seriously compared with the experiences of certain other aunties
of high repute in such matters. I noticed that on these occasions
their voices often fell into mysterious whispers, and that receipts of
especial power and sanctity were communicated in tones so low as
entirely to escape the vulgar ear. I still remember the solemn shake
of the head with which my Aunt Lois conveyed to Miss Mehitable
Rossiter the critical properties of _mace_, in relation to its powers
of producing in corn fritters a suggestive resemblance to oysters. As
ours was an oyster-getting district, and as that charming bivalve was
perfectly easy to come at, the interest of such an imitation can be
accounted for only by the fondness of the human mind for works of art.

For as much as a week beforehand, "we children" were employed in
chopping mince for pies to a most wearisome fineness, and in pounding
cinnamon, all-spice, and cloves in a great lignum-vitae mortar; and the
sound of this pounding and chopping reechoed through all the rafters
of the old house with a hearty and vigorous cheer most refreshing to
our spirits.

In those days there were none of the thousand ameliorations of the
labours of housekeeping which have since arisen--no ground and
prepared spices and sweet herbs; everything came into our hands in the
rough, and in bulk, and the reducing of it into a state for use was
deemed one of the appropriate labours of childhood. Even the very salt
that we used in cooking was rock salt, which we were required to wash
and dry and pound and sift before it became fit for use.

At other times of the year we sometimes murmured at these labours, but
those that were supposed to usher in the great Thanksgiving festival
were always entered into with enthusiasm. There were signs of richness
all around us--stoning of raisins, cutting of citron, slicing of
candied orange peel. Yet all these were only dawnings and intimations
of what was coming during the w