[s-cars] Le Jour de Merci Donnant ...

[Charlie Smith]

To help out with the learned discussions of various French foods, have
you ever wondered how the French are involved with Thanksgiving?

below is Art Buchwald's classic "Thankful for French Dressing" (a.k.a. "Le
Jour de Merci Donnant").

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Thankful for French Dressing

One of our most important holidays is Thanksgiving Day, known in France as
le Jour de Merci Donnant.  Le Jour de Merci Donnant was first started by a
group of Pilgrims (Pélerins) who fled from l'Angleterre before the McCarran
Act to found a colony in the New World (le Nouveau Monde) where they could
shoot Indians (les Peaux-Rouges) and eat turkey (dinde) to their heart's
content.

They landed at a place called Plymouth (a famous voiture Americaine) in a
wooden sailing ship called the Mayflower (or Fleur de Mai) in 1620.  But
while the Pélerins were killing the dindes, the Peaux-Rouges were killing
the Pélerins, and there were several hard winters ahead for both of them.
The only way the Peaux-Rouges helped the Pélerins was when they taught them
to grow corn (mais). The reason they did this was because they liked corn
with their Pélerins.

In 1623, after another harsh year. the Pélerins' crops were so good that
they decided to have a celebration and give thanks because more mais was
raised by the Pélerins than Pélerins were killed by the Peaux-Rouges.

Every year on Le Jour de Merci Donnant, parents tell their children an
amusing story about the first celebration.  It concerns a brave capitaine
named Miles Standish (known in France as Kilometrès Deboutish) and a young,
shy lieutenant named Jean Alden. Both of them were in love with a flower of
Plymouth called Priscilla Mullens (no translation). The vieux capitaine said
to the jeune lieutenant:

"Go to the damsel Priscilla (Allez très vite chez Priscilla), the loveliest
maiden of Plymouth (la plus jolie demoiselle de Plymouth).  Say that a blunt
old captain, a man not of words but of action (un vieux Fanfan la Tulipe),
offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier. Not in these
words, you know, but this, in short, is my meaning.

"I am a maker of war (Je suis un fabricant de la guerre) and not a maker of
phrases. You, bred as a scholar (Vous qui êtes pain comme un étudiant), can
say it in elegant language, such as you read in your books of the pleadings
and wooings of lovers, such as you think best adapted to win the heart of
the maiden."

Although Jean was fit to be tied (convenable à être emballé), friendship
prevailed over love and he went to his duty. But instead of using elegant
language, he blurted out his mission. Priscilla was muted with amazement and
sorrow (rendue muette par l'étonnement et la tristesse).

At length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence:

"If the great captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he
not come himself and take the trouble to woo me?" (Ou est-il, le vieux
Kilometrès? Pourquoi ne vient-il pas auprès de moi pour tenter sa chance?)

Jean said that Kilometrès Deboutish was very busy and didn't have time for
those things.  He staggered on, telling what a wonderful husband Kilometrès
would make. Finally, Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous
voice,

"Why don't you speak for yourself, Jean?" (Chacun à son goût.)

And so, on the fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a
large table brimming with tasty dishes, and for the only time during the
year eat better than the French do.

No one can deny that le Jour de Merci Donnant is a grande fête, and no
matter how well fed American families are, they never forget to give thanks
to Kilometrès Deboutish, who made this great day possible.

© 1999, Los Angeles Times Syndicate