The Normal Record. November 1904

              THE NORMAL RECORD.
little band had lost, through death, nearly half
of its members. Mary's father had been one
of the first to be stricken, and the poor girl,
left alone in her sorrow, had tried to bury it
by filling her life full of helpfulness to others.
Not a home in the Colony but had known her
sweet presence and looked eagerly for her
"coming and going, now to the grave of the
dead, and now to the bed of the dying." One
heart at least had grown stronger in its love
of the Puritan maiden. John Allerton had followed Mary over the sea from "bonnie England',
to bleak Plymouth Colony. The girl had only
shown a friendly interest in the handsome,
genial young fellow, and his words of love,
although often in his heart, had never been
spoken. During the siege of sickness and sadness, John had often helped Mary in her loving
ministerings, but in the spring he, too, was
taken and lay for many weeks near the Valley
of the Shadow. Mary patient, courageous and
strong, had taken her place as a friend by his
bedside. Every home was in such great distress, that all those in health found it their
duty to do all they could to relieve th suffering. Even rough Captain Standish, and
godly Elder Brewster took their places in the
saddened homes, nursing and caring for the
sick, tending to the little ones, and even burying the dead. Therefore, Mary took her place
by John's bedside, and it was through her
ceaseless caring and watching that health was
now slowly returning. But new feelings had
entered the heart of Mary. Just when John
seemed to be drifting away from her, she began
to realize her love for him, and what it would
mean to her if he were taken. So as soon as
he was on the road to recovery, she left him
to the care of others, and had not seen him
since. Now, on this Thanksgiving Day, John
was to come out into the sunshine for the first
time since his illness, so Captain Standish had
told her as he stopped on his way to the
Governor's house. No wonder her heart jumped
at the news of the festival.
Such bustling about as there was in the village! Such a harvest those grave men garnered in, and such great preparations were made
for the feast day! The great golden pumpkins
must be cut into rings to dry. the corn husked,
the home-made beer brewed, so each one had
his own part to do. They were to have guests,
too, for, to show how great was the friendship
between   the   white   man   and   red   man,     the
Governor had desired that Sachem and his
broves be invited to the feast.
At last, the anticipated day arrived. In
Mary's heart particularly, the thanksgiving
spirit dawned pure and bright. She was up
early, and after a few hours, took her little
offering over to the Elder's home. As she
walked along, she thought of what the day
meant to her,—John out for the first time, soon
again to be as strong and brave as he had
ever been,—and her cheeks glowed and her
eyes sparkled with the thought. She met a
number of people going to and from the Elder's
house, and she looked so bright and gave such
cheery greetings that the grave Puritans smiled
to one another saying, "Mary seemeth like her
old self again. It were time she forgot her
sorrow."
At the Elder's, Mary found Goodman White
sitting awkwardly with baby Peregrine on his
knee. After depositing her burden, Mary rushed to the child and, with a laugh, said, "You
don't know how to hold him, poor little thing,
he does look so uncomfortable! Do please give
him to me!" The Goodman willingly relinquished his charge, and Mary tossed Baby Peregrine up with a happy laugh, talking to him
alt the while in such a bringht, sunny way that
the sober little fellow was obliged to laugh
back at her. Out in the kitchen the women
looked at one another as the strains or laughter
and baby talk drifted in upon them.
"That is Mary Chilton."
"Yes. Does it not remind you of the days and
nights on the Mayflower when she was the only
one who could quiet the children with her
bright stories and sweet ways?"
"It does. I suppose the girl is, at last, forgetting her sorrow. It is mrny days since she
has been as bright as this."
Mary played with the baby until the women
were ready to go to the church. Then she gave
him to his father, and, meeting Priscilla Alden,
walked on with her.
"It will seem good to see John out again,"
said Priscilla, slyly glancing at Mary, for her
own love story was very fresh in her
memory.
"Yes, it will be nice," said Mary, evading
the question by dancing away from Priscilla's
side to peek at the baby in his father's arms.
Priscilla smiled, and said softly to herself, "I
understand."
Just then, at the turn of the road, the little
party met two men going to the church.    One