When we were settled Mr. Locke arose and asked a blessing. I don't exactly remember his words, but I do remember the reverent hush that swept over our little throng, and the wonderful dynamic quality of the man which lifted us in an instant from the commonplace into the infinite. He gave thanks for the food before us; then asked a blessing upon the principals in the day's events. Might their lives be prosperous and fruitful; might they be useful and glad in all their days; might they enter the crimson glow of life's Indian Summer with the same high purpose and romantic love as crowned them in the yellow dawning at the thresholds of their career. And might the little community now gathered in neighbourly kindness about our table thrive and prosper and bring forth food for the sustenance of the world and souls for the Kingdom.
The serious words sobered us for a minute, but it was only a minute. The stimulus of turkey with cranberry sauce and scalloped potatoes and boiled turnips and creamed carrots would have stirred to gaiety hearts much heavier than ours, and it soon developed into a noisy and frolicsome meal. The turkey was an enormous bird; the attack of all our hungry party left the skeleton not entirely stripped. I remember that one of the little Hansens, venturing up like Oliver Twist with a demand for more, was soundly rapped on his yellow head by a drumstick in the heavy hand of Ole, but the children as a whole were well behaved, allowing for the example set them by their elders. Then we had plum pudding and sauce and apple pie and cheese, and nuts and candy for everybody. Jean and I mentally ricocheted between amazement at the generosity of the meal and speculation as to whence it had come. No one ever told us the secret, but we did learn that Spoof had a fat cheque from England just before Christmas, and that Mrs. Burke's cooking of turkey and apple pie was the talk of Humboldt county in Iowa, and that Mrs. Brown positively refused first place to anyone when it came to making plum pudding, and so we formed our own conclusions.
After the meal the table was knocked to pieces and carried out so that there might be more room, and as the bridal couple stood about wondering what was to happen next they suddenly found themselves the objects of a number of presentations. Mrs. Brown made hers first; six wonderful pieces of Limoges china, hand painted by the squire's daughter herself, and presented to Mrs. B. on her departure for Canada.
"The dear miss—she were a good soul, if I say it—said as 'ow she 'ad read in a book that they drank tea in Canada, just like real people and may be these would be useful as well as hornamental, but love me, dearies, I need the room more. I suppose I should 'ardly give 'em away, but if the squire's daughter hever comes a-visiting me I'll 'ave to borrow 'em back." Her lips were smiling as she made this little speech, but a tell-tale splash fell on one of the pieces as she handed it over.
"Our present is outside, and I'm a-goin' to bring it in," said Burke, putting on his cap and coat.
"Oh, I wouldn't bring it in, Tom," his wife suggested. "Let them see it out there."
But Burke was bound to do it in style. "In it comes," he insisted, and plunged into the night. In a few minutes he returned with a heavy sack of his back, which he set in the middle of the floor. Again and again he made the trip until five sacks were in the pile.
"Ten bushels of seed wheat," he exclaimed proudly, "and may every kernel yield a hundred-fold!"
"Pretty good speech, Tom," said his wife. "I was sure you'd forget it."
"Forget nothin'!" Tom retorted. "I made that up, right off the bat."