"Thanksgiving morning came at last, and after a good breakfast everyone went to church. In those days not even the babies were left at home, but were carried to church in their mothers' arms.
"There was a long service in the church. A very long one it must have seemed to the children, who kept thinking of the great dinner to come soon. The last hymn was sung, the last prayer made, and all turned their steps to the tables loaded with good things to eat and drink.
"The Pilgrims had invited Massasoit and some of his people to share their feast. The Red Men were pleased when they received the invitation.
"'We will do our part,' they said.
"They took their bows and arrows and went out into the forest. They shot some red deer. Early on Thanksgiving morning they arrived in Plymouth, bringing the game they had killed.
"When the great dinner was ready at last, one hundred Indians with hungry stomachs were ready to share it with the white people.
"It must have been hard to entertain the visitors. They could speak and understand only a few words of English. Now and then they would give a deep grunt to show they were well pleased.
"They stayed not only to dinner, but to supper, also. Even then they were in no hurry to go home. Many of them spent the night with their white friends. They seemed to think Plymouth was a very pleasant place."
It was quite dark outside before Uncle Sam finished the story of the first Thanksgiving Day. But big logs were burning in the fireplace and giving a soft light all over the room. The old man could see the children's happy faces. He knew they were having a good time, though they had kept so quiet.