Before daylight the next morning the Goodwife stood in the door of the new house and watched her husband set forth with the men of Cambridge to search the forest for Zeb, and to punish his captors if they should catch them.  She had given him a good breakfast and filled his pockets with bread for the journey, and when the men came from the village, she cut Nancy’s pies and gave them each a generous piece to eat before starting.  There were eight men in the party, all armed.  The Goodwife’s lip trembled a little and then moved in prayer as she saw them disappear into the dark forest.  “God grant that they may all return in safety,” she murmured, and then, giving herself a little shake, she turned back into the house and resolutely set herself at the duties of the day.

Nimrod whined and tried to follow his master as the men marched away with their guns on their shoulders, but, finding himself too weak, lay down again on the hearth and went to sleep.  The Goodwife cleaned the kitchen, removing the last traces of the intruders, and then began a patient march back and forth, back and forth, beside the whirling spinning-wheel.  Now that the harvest was over and their food provided for the winter, her busy hands must spin the yarn and weave the cloth to keep them warm.  Though she had meant to let the children sleep after the excitement of the previous day, it was still early when they were awakened by the whir of the wheel and came scuttling down from the loft as bright-eyed as if the adventures of the night before had been no more than a bad dream.  They helped themselves to hasty pudding and milk and took a dishful to Nimrod, who was now awake and looking much more lively, and then their mother set them their tasks for the day.

“Nancy,” said she, “I gave all thy pies to the men who have gone with father to hunt for Zeb.  To-morrow will be Thanksgiving Day and we shall need more.  The mince pies are already prepared and put away on the shelves, and thou canst make apple and pumpkin both to set away beside them in the secret closet.”

“That makes me think,” said Daniel, and, touching the secret spring, he opened the door and rescued the jack-o’-lantern from the window-sill.

It was only a wilted and blackened old pumpkin that he brought to his mother, but she smiled at it and patted the hideous head.  “He hath been a good friend to us, Dan,” she said, “e’en as say the Scriptures, ‘God hath chosen the weak things of the earth to confound the mighty.’  David went out against Goliath with a sling and a stone, and thou hast overcome savages with naught but a foolish pumpkin.”

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Nancy took the grinning head and set it on the chimney-piece.  “Dear old Jacky,” she said, “thou shalt come to our Thanksgiving feast.  ’T is no more than thy due since thou hast saved us from the savages.”

“Nay, daughter,” said her mother.  “That savoreth of idolatry.  Give thy praise unto God, who useth even things which are not to bring to naught the things that are.  ’T is but a pumpkin after all, and will make an excellent feast for the pig on the morrow.  Daniel, go to the field and bring thy sister a fresh one for the pies and then hasten to thine own tasks.  They wait for thee.  While thy father is away searching for Zeb, thou must do his work as well as thine own.”