A great many people who are skeptical on other subjects swallow
Thanksgiving Day without questioning the validity of its title.
There are plenty of people in Houston who will sit at the table today,
with their mouths so full of turkey and dressing that they will be
utterly unable to answer the smallest question about the origin of
this National festival.
The United States is the only country in the world that has a day of
National thanksgiving in commemoration of one special event. Among the
earliest settlers in this country, with the exception of cocktails,
were the Pilgrim Fathers. They were a noble band of religious
enthusiasts, who sailed from England to America in a ship called the
_Mayflower_ after a celebrated brand of soap by the same name.
By good fortune and fast sailing they managed to reach America before
Thanksgiving Day. They landed at Plymouth Rock, where they were met by
Hon. F. R. Lubbock and welcomed with an address. It was a very cold,
and not a good day for speeches, either.
This heroic little band of refugees were called Puritans in England,
which is French for abolitionists. As they stood upon the bleak
inhospitable shore, shivering in the biting blast, Captain Miles
Standish, who had the stoutest heart and also the most jovial temper
in the party, said: "Say, you fellows, can't you stop chattering your
teeth and shaking your knees? There don't any of you look like you
wanted to pass resolutions against burning anything just at present.
You're a jolly-looking lot of guys."
Among the distinguished members of this band were William Bradford,
Edward Winslow, John Alden, John Carver and Marc. Anthony, a nephew of
Susan B.
According to the habits of true Americans, they had not been on land
half an hour till they went into caucus to elect a governor.
John Carver carried around the hat and collected the ballots, and
consequently was elected.
"Now," said Governor Carver, "I hereby announce my proclamation that
next Thursday shall be Thanksgiving Day."
"What for?" asked Captain Standish.
"Oh, it's the proper thing," said the governor. "You'll find it in all
the school books and histories."
Governor Carver then appointed a committee with Captain Standish as
chairman to explore the country around.
Captain Standish set forth at the head of his devoted followers
through the deep snow, while the others went to work erecting what
rough shelter they could out of logs and pine boughs. Presently
Captain Standish and his band returned, making tracks in the snow
about ten feet apart and closely pursued by a large, brick-red,
passionate Indian, who was remarking, "Waugh-hoo-hoo-hoo!" at every
jump. Governor Carver advanced to meet the untutored child of the
forest, and said to him in simple words:
"How! Me heap white chief. Gottee big guns. You killee my soldiers, me
heap shoot. Sabe?"
"I am charmed to meet you, governor," said the Indian. "My name is
Massasoit. I also am a great chief. My wigwam is down there" (pointing
with graceful gesture to the southwest)--"I have just come back from
slaying the tribe of the Goo-Goos. You may not have heard, governor,
that the cat came back."
Governor Carver grasped the hand of Massasoit, and said: "Welcome,
thrice welcome to our newly discovered continent, sir. Colonel
Winthrop, give Mr. Massasoit your hand."
"I'll keep mine, and deal him another if it's all the same to you,"
said Colonel Winthrop.
Massasoit took his place at the side of the blanket that was spread on
the snow, and the pasteboards were shuffled.
Two hours later the Pilgrim Fathers had won from the Indian chief 200
buffalo robes, 100 pelts of the silver fox, 50 tanned deer hides, 300
otter skins, and 150 hides of the beaver, panther and mink.
This was the original skin game.
Later on in the game, Governor Carver called a bet of $27 worth of
wampum made by Massasoit, with his daughter Priscilla, and lost on
eights and treys.
Longfellow, in his beautiful poem, describes what followed:
Then from her father's tent,
Tripping with gentle feet,
Priscilla, the Puritan
Maiden, stepped. All that she
Knew was obedience;
Ready to sacrifice
All for her father's word,
Priscilla, the dutiful,
Gentle and meek as the
Dove. As the violet
Modest and drooping-eyed,
Up from his poker game
Gazed Massasoit,
Chief of the Tammanies,
Brave as a lion. Up
Gazed Massasoit.
Then, as a roebuck springs,
Swift as an arrow, or
Leapes Couchee-Couchee, the
Panther, or Buzzy the
Rattlesnake springs from his
Coils in the sumac bush,
So Massasoit got a
Move on his chieftainlets;
Got to his Trilby's and
Fled to the wildness.
Rushing through snowdrifts, and
Breaking down saplings, till
Far in the distance he
Looked back and saw that she
Followed not far behind;
Priscilla the sprinter was
Not very far behind;
Cutting a swath through the
Snow with her number fives;
Right on his trail was she;
Right on his track with a
New-woman look on her;
Longing and hungry look,
Look of a new-born hope,
Hope for a man that might
Be her own tootsicums.
Then Massasoit, the
Chief of the Tammanies,
Gave a loud yell that woke
Wise-Kuss the owl, and woke
Kat-a-Waugh-Kew-is, the
Ring-streaked coon, and woke
Snakes in the forest.
Then Massasoit was
Gone like an arrow that
Speeds from the hunter; he
Only touched ground on the
High elevations; he
Fled from the land of the
Pilgrims and Puritans,
Fled from Priscilla the
Puritan maiden;
Fled from Priscilla who
Wanted to tickle him
Under the chin and call
Him her sweet toodleums.
Thus Massasoit, the
Indian warrior,
Laid down four aces and
Took to the wilderness,
Bluffed by a maiden.
Laid down a jack-pot, and
Lost his percentage.
Lost it to treys and eights,
And to the forty years
Lived by Priscilla;
Priscilla, the maiden.
(_Houston Daily Post_, Thursday morning, November 28, 1895.)