The Wilmingtonian, And Delaware Register

THANKSGIVING.--A TALE.

"Laughter, holding both his sides."

In one of the small interior towns of New-England, where the superstition of our ancestors still possess a strong hold on the minds of the people, the facts occurred a few years since, on which the following tale is founded.

An honest farmer and his family, preparing to celebrate Thanksgiving at his wife's father's in an adjacent town, were hurried and confused extremely on the day preceding that festival, by the multiplicity of things which must be done before they could leave home with safety. The house was to be banked up, and the gleanings of the harvest, cabbages, turnips, &c. put into the cellar, that the external entrance thereto might be closed for the season. Having carried in the vegetables, the boys were despatched to the barn for straw to fill the passage-way, while the good man himself was busied on the opposite side of the house. An old ram, the horned patriarch of a large flock of sheep kept on the farm, having got a taste of some of the scattered leaves of the cabbages, unobserved entered the cellar, and silently continued his feast. The avenue through which he had entered was immediately closed up, and all the necessary work and arrangements being completed, the larger boys and girls, set off on foot in high glee, the dog running and barking before them, apparently as well pleased with going to Grandpapa's as any of the happy group. Soon after, the parent pair and their little ones, having put out the fire and fastened the doors and windows, by many curious contrivances, to keep out thieves, started on the same destination.

In the afternoon of the day following the festival, which had been kept under the paternal roof with many devout and jovial exercises, the family returned home, accompanied by some of their young cousins. Some of their youthful neighbours of both sexes were invited in, and a merry thanksgiving carousal was in the full tide of successful operation, when one of the boys, who had been sent into the cellar with a little tallow dick'd candle, which gave just light enough to make darkness visible, to draw cider, ran back into the room, with eyes glaring wildly, uttering a half suffocated exclamation--the Devil is in the cellar! "Poo," said the father, "you have only been frightened by your own shadow--give me the light." On which he seized the candle, leaving the candlestick clenched fast in the shaking hand of the boy, and boldly rushed to the cellar stairs; but ere he had descended half the steps, the large saucer eyes and enormous horns of the beast caused him to retreat as his son--"Sure enough the Devil is in the cellar!"-- The utmost confusion and uproar now prevailed in the house.--The good man seized a great bible and attempted to read, but the candle fluttered, burnt blue and threw so feeble a light on the sacred page, and the book trembled so much in the hands of the reader, that he could not distinguish one word from another.--The little children cried and clung to their mother--the lasses nestled close to their favorite swains--and the whole house shook with the agitation of its half demented inhabitants.--One bright thought however occurred--a messenger was despatched for the minister to lay the Devil.
The parson, a man more celebrated for good nature, piety and credulity, than for talent or heroism, slipped the small bible into his pocket, put on his band and surplice, that he might appear as formidable to his great adversary as possible, and hastened to the relief of his distressed parishioners.

On coming to the house, the reverend man was hailed as a deliverer, and implored by at least a dozen voices at once 'to drive the devil away.'--But few moments were lost in asking questions, which no one could answer, before the Parson was pushed forward as a leader, lighted by the same penurious candle, into the cellar, the courageous of the company keeping close behind him.

When he reached the foot of the stairs, the eyes of fire and the shadowy outline of enormous horns, magnified ten-fold at least by the terrors of those that beheld them, removed all doubt, if any had previously existed in his mind, as to the infernal nature of the being; with whom he had to contend. The divine instantly fell on his knees, and with uplifted hands began to pray in his most fervent manner. The ram not understanding the good man's motives, but supposing by the motion of his hands, that he was daring him to a butting contest, made a pass with all his might at his supposed adversary; but deceived by the swelling dimensions of his drapery, missed the slender body of the priest, and drawing hastily back to renew the assault, hooked one of his horns into the belt of his surplice, and pulled the Parson with him into the cellar! While thus in the power of his victorious foe, lost to hope as it regarded himself, the natural benevolence of his disposition burst forth in the exclamation, "Brethren, take care of yourselves, the Devil has got me!" This exhortation was better obeyed than any he had ever delivered from the pulpit, his friends fled and left him to his fate.

Among the company was a shrewd young farmer, who had from the first supposed the fiend to be nothing more than some domestic animal, but being a lover of fun and willing to see a comedy, he kept his thoughts to himself and pretended to sympathize with the others in their fears.--He now thought it time to interfere, and snatching a pitch-pine knot blazing from the fire, expressed his determination to rescue the priest, or perish in the attempt.

A lovely young damsel laid hold of the skirts of his coat--and the cry of "don't, don't" proceeded from every part of the room. Unheeding this kind concern for his safety he rushed into the cellar, seized the ram by one of his horns and dragged the struggling animal up stairs, calling to the astonished parson 'follow me.' The horned devil was led in triumph, followed by the vanquished Ecclesiastic, into the midst of the company.

A momentary silence and hanging down of heads ensued. The past scene however was too ludicrous to admit of sober reflection, and loud peals of laughter burst from every side, during which the ram was turned out at the door, the parson absented himself without ceremony, and the sports of the evening were resumed with better spirits than before.