The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1845-01-17
BY HISE & OSMAN
From the Boston Mercantile Journal.
a Thanksgiving Story.

1t was bleak day in the month Of No
vember. The north wind howled mourn
fully through the lealess irees-the bro
ken clouds aiiting rapidly across the face
of the heavcns-and the whole face of ma
ture assumed an aspect, cherries and un-
Omioriable-well calculated TO remind
the moralist Of the closing scenes in the
great drama Of lfe--as a traveller, " ilh
weary steps, wendell his solitary way
through one of those beautiful hamlels
which abound in New England. and
which constitute the noble ornaments,
omblems of freedom, peace and happiness,
of which she is justly proud.
To Judge from his costume, this travel
Ter belonged to the humbIest walks of life,
or had been singled out as victim by
misfortune. His coarse straw hat his
patched doublet, and his canvass trousers,
soled by tar in many places, while they
proclaimed his occupation, and his power
ty, seemed but poorly calculated to pro-
tect him from the inclemency of the weath-
or. His form. cast in a noble mould, de-
noted great activity and strength. His
manly features, bronzed by exposure to
the tropical sun, and partly conce aled
from view by his luXuriant locks of coal
black hue, showed that he was still in the
dawn of manhood. And his eyes seem.
ed lighted up with an intelligent spirit
by lean of expectation and hope,
which showed that his humble fortunes
did not accord with his noble nature--and
that however severely fate had dealt with
him, his energies were sill unbroken-
and that maugre The chill northern blast,
and the fatigues il was evident he had re-
Gently undergone, he was resolved to push
onward until the object which he had in
view, was accomplished.
1t is now three years said he to him
self, as he plodded along the road, since
very loolishly left my happy home, ur-
ged by a .pique, and love for life OF
adventure, to brave the hardships and per-
lis Of the ocean. Since then my life has
been constant series of misforlunes. |
have met with storms on every tack. But
thank Providence, although my canvass
is sadly reduced and pretty well worn out,
and my pockets destitute Of balast--my
hull is unimpared and my spirits are I'M
broken and buoyant as ever | hope my
parents are still living, and prosperous and
happy-l was fool to leave them. And
my brothers and ssters--how happy we
were togc,her-and cousin Mary, that
brigh, little Mary, whom loved with
love surprising that Of cousins--in whose
company | have passed so many raplur-
Gus hours Oh, was fool to leave
such blissful scenes. And believe after
all, that the little fairy loved me Iknow
she did-she all but told me so. But it
is too late now to rerace my steps--I can
only retrace my folly. l dare say the
bright and joyous young thing has forgot
ten Ned Willis, and was married to some
woIthier fellow than | am long since.
For her rosy cheeks, laughing eyes, and
sweet disposition, 10 say nothing Of the
CIV was w "UtU Sue
came of age, attracted many admirers, and
made sad havoc among the hearts of the
youths Of the village. Well, if she is
married, there is no more to be sad-I
have no right 10 complain. But hope
she has chosen good husband. will
see her once morc-wish her long life
and happy one--and away TO sea again.
But if she is not married---.' He did
not finish the sentence, but change came
over the countenance Of the ill-clad and
weather beaten mariner, as G he was in
dulgiug in vision of rapture, and he in.
voluntarily quickened his pace.
AS Edward Willis journed onward to-
wards his home, anticipating by turns
happy and adverse fortune, he was sur
prised to find that although it was in the
middle Of the week, there were no signs
OF labor among the inhabitants. All was
quiet; even the oxen were browsing con-
tentedly IN the pastures, the school-houses
were closed, and the meeting houses were
open-the people whom he met were
neatly arrayed in their Sunday clothes
and their countenances were wreathed
with smiles OF gratitude and JOY. On en-
qury, he learned that it was THANKsGIv-
ING DAY. lie hailed the information as
a glad omen.
On the dy when this poor forlorn
looking traveller after years of wandering,
was pursuing his way towards his native
village, the fire burned brightly on the
hear,h-stone of his parents. Deacon Will
lis was Ne'c England Farmer-a man
who, by cherishng the virtues of indus.
try and frugali'y, had become possessed
of a handsome property, and who, enjoy