Prefatory Materials

This is a modified etext created by GutenMark software.   Any comments below about etext preparation refer to the original, and not to this modified version of the etext.  No individuals named below bear responsibility for changes to the text.

Project Gutenberg EBook, John Inglefield’s Thanksgiving, by Hawthorne
From “The Snow Image and Other Twice-Told Tales”
#68 in our series by Nathaniel Hawthorne

Copyright laws are changing all over the world.  Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.

This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.

Please read the “legal small print,” and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.

**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**

*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers*****

Title:  John Inglefield’s Thanksgiving (From:  “The Snow Image and Other Twice-Told Tales”)

Author:  Nathaniel Hawthorne

Release Date:  Nov, 2005 [EBook #9241] [This file was first posted on September 18, 2003] [Last updated on February 6, 2007]

Edition:  10

Language:  English

Character set encoding:  ASCII

*** START of the Project gutenberg EBOOK, Inglefield’s Thanksgiving ***

This eBook was produced by David Widger

The Snow-image

And

Other twice-Told Tales

John Inglefield’s Thanksgiving

By

Nathaniel Hawthorne

On the evening of Thanksgiving day, John Inglefield, the blacksmith, sat in his elbow-chair, among those who had been keeping festival at his board.  Being the central figure of the domestic circle, the fire threw its strongest light on his massive and sturdy frame, reddening his rough visage, so that it looked like the head of an iron statue, all aglow, from his own forge, and with its features rudely fashioned on his own anvil.  At John Inglefield’s right hand was an empty chair.  The other places round the hearth were filled by the members of the family, who all sat quietly, while, with a semblance of fantastic merriment, their shadows danced on the wall behind then.  One of the group was John Inglefield’s son, who had been bred at college, and was now a student of theology at Andover.  There was also a daughter of sixteen, whom nobody could look at without thinking of a rosebud almost blossomed.  The only other person at the fireside was Robert Moore, formerly an apprentice of the blacksmith, but now his journeyman, and who seemed more like an own son of John Inglefield than did the pale and slender student.

Only these four had kept New England’s festival beneath that roof.  The vacant chair at John Inglefield’s right hand was in memory of his wife, whom death had snatched from him since the previous Thanksgiving.  With a feeling that few would have looked for in his rough nature, the bereaved husband had himself set the chair in its place next his own; and often did his eye glance thitherward, as if he deemed it possible that the cold grave might send back its tenant to the cheerful fireside, at least for that one evening.  Thus did he cherish the grief that was dear to him.  But there was another grief which he would fain have torn from his heart; or, since that could never be, have buried it too deep for others to behold, or for his own remembrance.  Within the past year another member of his household had gone from him, but not to the grave.  Yet they kept no vacant chair for her.

While John Inglefield and his family were sitting round the hearth with the shadows dancing behind them on the wall, the outer door was opened, and a light footstep came along the passage.  The latch of the inner door was lifted by sonic familiar hand, and a young girl came in, wearing a cloak and hood, which she took off, and laid on the table beneath the looking-glass.  Then, after gazing a moment at the fireside circle, she approached, and took the seat at John Inglefield’s right hand, as if it had been reserved on purpose for her.

“Here I am, at last, father,” said she.  “You ate your Thanksgiving dinner without me, but I have come back to spend the evening with you.”

Yes, it was Prudence Inglefield.  She wore the same neat and maidenly attire which she had been accustomed to put on when the household work was over for the day, and her hair was parted from her brow, in the simple and modest fashion that became her best of all.  If her cheek might otherwise have been pale, yet the glow of the fire suffused it with a healthful bloom.  If she had spent the many mouths of her absence in guilt and infamy, yet they seemed to have left no traces on her gentle aspect.  She could not have looked less altered, had she merely stepped away from her father’s fireside for half an hour, and returned while the blaze was quivering upwards from the same brands that were burning at her departure.  And to John Inglefield she was the very image of his buried wife, such as he remembered her on the first Thanksgiving which they had passed under their own roof.  Therefore, though naturally a stern and rugged man, he could not speak unkindly to his sinful child, nor yet could he take her to his bosom.

“You are welcome home, Prudence,” said he, glancing sideways at her, and his voice faltered.  “Your mother would have rejoiced to see you, but she has been gone from us these four months.”

“I know it, father, I know it,” replied Prudence, quickly.  “And yet, when I first came in, my eyes were so dazzled by the firelight, that she seemed to be sitting in this very chair!”

By this time the other members of the family had begun to recover from their surprise, and became sensible that it was no ghost from the grave, nor vision of their vivid recollections, but Prudence, her own self.  Her brother was the next that greeted her.  He advanced and held out his hand affectionately, as a brother should; yet not entirely like a brother, for, with all his kindness, he was still a clergyman, and speaking to a child of sin.

“Sister Prudence,” said he, earnestly, “I rejoice that a merciful Providence hath turned your steps homeward, in time for me to bid you a last farewell.  In a few weeks, sister, I am to sail as a missionary to the far islands of the Pacific.  There is not one of these beloved faces that I shall ever hope to behold again on this earth.  O, may I see all of them—yours and all—beyond the grave!”

A shadow flitted across the girl’s countenance.

“The grave is very dark, brother,” answered she, withdrawing her hand somewhat hastily from his grasp.  “You must look your last at me by the light of this fire.”

While this was passing, the twin-girl-the rosebud that had grown on the same stem with the castaway—stood gazing at her sister, longing to fling herself upon her bosom, so that the tendrils of their hearts might intertwine again.  At first she was restrained by mingled grief and shame, and by a dread that Prudence was too much changed to respond to her affection, or that her own purity would be felt as a reproach by the lost one.  But, as she listened to the familiar voice, while the face grew more and more familiar, she forgot everything save that Prudence had come back.  Springing forward, she would have clasped her in a close embrace.  At that very instant, however, Prudence started from her chair, and held out both her hands, with a warning gesture.

“No, Mary,—no, my sister,” cried she, “do not you touch me.  Your bosom must not be pressed to mine!”

Mary shuddered and stood still, for she felt that something darker than the grave was between Prudence and herself, though they seemed so near each other in the light of their father’s hearth, where they had grown up together.  Meanwhile Prudence threw her eyes around the room, in search of one who had not yet bidden her welcome.  He had withdrawn from his seat by the fireside, and was standing near the door, with his face averted, so that his features could be discerned only by the flickering shadow of the profile upon the wall.  But Prudence called to him, in a cheerful and kindly tone:—

“Come, Robert,” said she, “won’t you shake hands with your old friend?”

Robert Moore held back for a moment, but affection struggled powerfully, and overcame his pride and resentment; he rushed towards Prudence, seized her hand, and pressed it to his bosom.

“There, there, Robert!” said she, smiling sadly, as she withdrew her hand, “you must not give me too warm a welcome.”

And now, having exchanged greetings with each member of the family, Prudence again seated herself in the chair at John Inglefield’s right hand.  She was naturally a girl of quick and tender sensibilities, gladsome in her general mood, but with a bewitching pathos interfused among her merriest words and deeds.  It was remarked of her, too, that she had a faculty, even from childhood, of throwing her own feelings, like a spell, over her companions.  Such as she had been in her days of innocence, so did she appear this evening.  Her friends, in the surprise and bewilderment of her return, almost forgot that she had ever left them, or that she had forfeited any of her claims to their affection.  In the morning, perhaps, they might have looked at her with altered eyes, but by the Thanksgiving fireside they felt only that their own Prudence had come back to them, and were thankful.  John Inglefleld’s rough visage brightened with the glow of his heart, as it grew warm and merry within him; once or twice, even, he laughed till the room rang again, yet seemed startled by the echo of his own mirth.  The grave young minister became as frolicsome as a school-boy.  Mary, too, the rosebud, forgot that her twin-blossom had ever been torn from the stem, and trampled in the dust.  And as for Robert Moore, he gazed at Prudence with the bashful earnestness of love new-born, while she, with sweet maiden coquetry, half smiled upon and half discouraged him.

In short, it was one of those intervals when sorrow vanishes in its own depth of shadow, and joy starts forth in transitory brightness.  When the clock struck eight, Prudence poured out her father’s customary draught of herb-tea, which had been steeping by the fireside ever since twilight.

“God bless you, child!” said John Inglefield, as he took the cup from her hand; “you have made your old father happy again.  But we miss your mother sadly, Prudence, sadly.  It seems as if she ought to be here now.”

“Now, father, or never,” replied Prudence.

It was now the hour for domestic worship.  But while the family were making preparations for this duty, they suddenly perceived that Prudence had put on her cloak and hood, and was lifting the latch of the door.

“Prudence, Prudence! where are you going?” cried they all, with one voice.

As Prudence passed out of the door, she turned towards them, and flung back her hand with a gesture of farewell.  But her face was so changed that they hardly recognized it.  Sin and evil passions glowed through its comeliness, and wrought a horrible deformity; a smile gleamed in her eyes, as of triumphant mockery, at their surprise and grief.

“Daughter,” cried John Inglefield, between wrath and sorrow, “stay and be your father’s blessing, or take his curse with you!”

For an instant Prudence lingered and looked back into the fire-lighted room, while her countenance wore almost the expression as if she were struggling with a fiend, who had power to seize his victim even within the hallowed precincts of her father’s hearth.  The fiend prevailed; and Prudence vanished into the outer darkness.  When the family rushed to the door, they could see nothing, but heard the sound of wheels rattling over the frozen ground.

That same night, among the painted beauties at the theatre of a neighboring city, there was one whose dissolute mirth seemed inconsistent with any sympathy for pure affections, and for the joys and griefs which are hallowed by them.  Yet this was Prudence Inglefield.  Her visit to the Thanksgiving fireside was the realization of one of those waking dreams in which the guilty soul will sometimes stray back to its innocence.  But Sin, alas! is careful of her bond-slaves; they hear her voice, perhaps, at the holiest moment, and are constrained to go whither she summons them.  The same dark power that drew Prudence Inglefleld from her father’s hearth—the same in its nature, though heightened then to a dread necessity—would snatch a guilty soul from the gate of heaven, and make its sin and its punishment alike eternal.

*** END of the Project gutenberg EBOOK, Inglefield’s Thanksgiving *** By Nathaniel Hawthorne

******* This file should be named haw6810.txt or haw6810.zip ********

Corrected editions of our etexts get a new number, haw6811.txt VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, haw6810a.txt

This eBook was produced by David Widger [widger@cecomet.net]

Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the us unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.  Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, even years after the official publication date.

Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.  The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment and editing by those who wish to do so.

Most people start at our Web sites at:  http://gutenberg.net or http://promo.net/pg

These Web sites include award-winning information about Project Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).

Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.

http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03

Or etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90

Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, as it appears in our Newsletters.

Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)

We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.  Our projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 If they reach just 1-2% of the world’s population then the total will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year’s end.

The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!  This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.

Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):

eBooks Year Month

1 1971 July
10 1991 January
100 1994 January
1000 1997 August
1500 1998 October
2000 1999 December
2500 2000 December
3000 2001 November
4000 2001 October/November
6000 2002 December*
9000 2003 November*
10000 2004 January*

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.

We need your donations more than ever!

As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people and organizations in:  Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.

We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones that have responded.

As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.  Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.

In answer to various questions we have received on this:

We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, just ask.

While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to donate.

International donations are accepted, but we don’t know ANYTHING about how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they can be made deductible, and don’t have the staff to handle it even if there are ways.

Donations by check or money order may be sent to:

Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
PMB 113
1739 University Ave.
Oxford, MS 38655-4109

Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment method other than by check or money order.

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by the us Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.

We need your donations more than ever!

You can get up to date donation information online at:

http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html

***

If you can’t reach Project Gutenberg,
you can always email directly to:

Michael S. Hart hart@pobox.com

Prof.  Hart will answer or forward your message.

We would prefer to send you information by email.

**The Legal Small Print**

(Three Pages)

***START**the small print!**For public domain EBOOKS**start*** Why is this “Small Print!” statement here?  You know:  lawyers.  They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from someone other than us, and even if what’s wrong is not our fault.  So, among other things, this “Small Print!” statement disclaims most of our liability to you.  It also tells you how you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.

BEFORE! You use or read this EBOOK By using or reading any part of this Project gutenberg-tm eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept this “Small Print!” statement.  If you do not, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person you got it from.  If you received this eBook on a physical medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.

ABOUT Project gutenberg-tm EBOOKS This Project gutenberg-tm eBook, like most Project gutenberg-tm eBooks, is a “public domain” work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association (the “Project").  Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules, set forth below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook under the “Project gutenberg” trademark.

Please do not use the “Project gutenberg” trademark to market any commercial products without permission.

To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain works.  Despite these efforts, the Project’s eBooks and any medium they may be on may contain “Defects”.  Among other things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER of damages But for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described below, [1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may receive this eBook from as a Project gutenberg-tm eBook) disclaims all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees, and [2] you have no REMEDIES for NEGLIGENCE or under STRICT liability, or for BREACH of WARRANTY or CONTRACT, including but not LIMITED to INDIRECT, consequential, PUNITIVE or INCIDENTAL damages, even if you give notice of the POSSIBILITY of such damages.

If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that time to the person you received it from.  If you received it on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement copy.  If you received it electronically, such person may choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to receive it electronically.

This EBOOK is otherwise PROVIDED to you “As-is”.  No other warranties of any KIND, express or implied, are made to you as to the EBOOK or any medium it may be on, including but not LIMITED to warranties of MERCHANTABILITY or FITNESS for A particular purpose.

Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you may have other legal rights.

INDEMNITY You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook, [2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, or [3] any Defect.

DISTRIBUTION under “Project gutenberg-tm” You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this “Small Print!” and all other references to Project Gutenberg, or:

[1] Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
eBook or this “small print!” statement.  You may however,
if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
including any form resulting from conversion by word
processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
EITHER:

[*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
does not contain characters other than those
intended by the author of the work, although tilde
(~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
be used to convey punctuation intended by the
author, and additional characters may be used to
indicate hypertext links; or

[*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
the case, for instance, with most word processors);
or

[*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
or other equivalent proprietary form).

[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
“Small Print!” statement.

[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
don’t derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
payable to “Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation”
the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
let us know your plans and to work out the details.

WHAT if you WANT to send money even if you don’t have to?  Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine readable form.

The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
Money should be paid to the:
“Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:  hart@pobox.com

[Portions of this eBook’s header and trailer may be reprinted only when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be they hardware or software or any other related product without express permission.]

END THE SMALL PRINT!  FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKSVer.02/11/02*END*