This done he vanished
as suddenly as he had appeared.
Our knight, overjoyed at his victory, returned
in triumph to the castle, where the household
crowded around him and praised his bravery. But
when he put off his armor he found the cuish
from his right thigh filled with clots of blood
from an angry wound in his side. The family,
alarmed, hastened to apply healing herbs and
bandages.
The captured horse was then brought forward.
He was prodigiously large, and black as jet. His
eyes were fierce and flashing, his neck proudly
arched, and he wore a glittering war-saddle upon
his back.
As the first streaks of dawn began to appear,
the animal reared wildly, snorted as if with pain
and anger, and struck the ground so furiously
with his hoofs that the sparks flew. The black
cock of the castle crew and the horse, uttering a
terrible cry, instantly disappeared.
And every year, on the selfsame night, at the
selfsame hour, the wounds of the knight Albert
broke out afresh, and tormented him with agony.
Thus till his dying day he bore in his body a
yearly reminder of his encounter with the Phantom
Knight of the Vandal Camp.
THANKSGIVING DAY
(LAST THURSDAY IN NOVEMBER)
THE FIRST HARVEST-HOME IN
PLYMOUTH
BY W. DE LOSS LOVE, JR (ADAPTED)
After prayer and fasting and a farewell feast,
the Pilgrim Fathers left the City of Leyden, and
sought the new and unknown land.
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