Over the river and through the wood, To grandfather's house we go; The horse knows the way To carry the sleigh Through the white and drifted snow. Over the river and through the wood-- Oh, how the wind does blow! It stings the toes And bites the nose, As over the ground we go. Over the river and through the wood, To have a first-rate play; Hear the bells ring, "Ting-a-ling-ding!" Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day! Over the river and through the wood, Trot fast, my dapple-gray! Spring over the ground, Like a hunting hound! For this is Thanksgiving Day. Over the river and through the wood, And straight through the barn-yard gate. We seem to go Extremely slow-- It is so hard to wait! Over the river and through the wood-- Now grandmother's cap I spy! Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done? Hurrah for the pumpkin pie! GRANDMA'S MINUET Grandma told me all about it; Told me so I couldn't doubt it; How she danced--my grandma danced, Long ago. How she held her pretty head, How her dainty skirt she spread, How she turned her little toes, Smiling little human rose! Long ago. Grandma's hair was bright and sunny, Dimpled cheeks, too--ah, how funny! Really, quite a pretty girl, Long ago. Bless her! Why, she wears a cap, Grandma, does, and takes a nap, Every single day, and yet, Grandma danced a minuet, Long ago. No--they moved with stately grace, Everything in proper place; Gliding slowly forward, then Slowly courtesying back again, Long ago. Modern ways are quite alarming, Grandma says; but boys were charming-- Girls and boys, I mean, of course-- Long ago. Bravely modest, grandly shy-- Now she sits there rocking, rocking, Always knitting grandpa's stocking, Every girl was taught to knit, Long ago. Yet her figure is so neat, And her smile so staid and sweet, I can almost see her now Bending to her partner's bow, Long ago. Grandma says our modern jumping, Hopping, rushing, whirling, bumping Would have shocked the gentlefolk, Long ago. What if all of us should try Just to feel like those who met In the graceful minuet, Long ago? With the minuet in fashion, Who could fly into a passion? All would wear the calm they wore, Long ago. In time to come, if I perchance Should tell my grandchild of our dance I should really like to say: "We did, dear, in some such way, Long ago." AUNT JAN BY NORMAN GALE