This particular Thanksgiving tide was marked in Mapleton by exceptionallycharming weather. 0nce in a great while the inclement New England skiesare taken with a remorseful twinge and forget to give their usual snap ofSeptember frost which generally bites off all the pretty flowers in soheart-breaking a way, and then you can have lovely times very downthrough November.

It sometimes was so this fortnight at Mapleton. Though the Thanksgiving proclamation hadbeen read, and it was past the middle of November, yet marigolds andfour-o'clocks were all ablaze in the gardens, and the golden rod andpurple aster were blooming over the fields as if they were expecting tokeep it up all winter.

It really is affecting, the jolly good heart with which these brightchildren of the rainbow flaunt and wave and dance and go on budding andblossoming in the somewhat teeth and snarl of oncoming winter. An autumngolden rod or aster ought to be the symbol for pluck and courage, andmight serve a New England crest as the broom flower did the very agedPlantagenets.