The Placer herald., 1855-11-03
A Sketch from Life.
BY FRANCIS DURIVAGE.

AT five o'clock on Thanksgiving morning,
Deacon Wilson arose as was his wont. No
holiday made any change in his hours. Yet
now he no longer sprang from his bed with
the alacrity which changed duty into plea
sure; he rose because imperious necessity
commanded it. There were the cattle to be
fed and watered, and the poultry to receive
the same attention. and there was, moreover.
a fire to be made in the huge old kitchen
fire place; for the deacon had now no SER
want or helper, and in the gray winter of his
life, the whole burthen of managing his place
had fallen on his shoulders. Fortunately
they were broad and strong-fortunatel his
constitution was good, his spirits elastic and
his piety sincere, for his burthens and trials
were indeed weighty. He had been COM
paratively rich-he was now in embarrassed
circumstances. He had looked forward to
the time when son should relieve him of
the most laborious of his tolls, while a
daughter performed the same kind office
for his wife. Both had been disappointed
and now the old couple were the solitary
tenants of that lone New England farm house.
The deacon went mechanically about his
morning labors; he drove the cattle to the
water tank; he supplied them with fresh fod-
der, and after seeing that they were comfort
able, returned to the old kitchen. BY this
time the good wife had prepared a breakfast,
and genial fire of walnut was ditfusng its
heat through the apartment
The old couple sat down to breakfast, af-
ter blessing by the farmer, but the meal
passed in silence. 1t was followed by fervent
prayer and the reading of portion of the
Scripture. After this they adjourned to the
sitting room, where good fire was burning,
and where the old dame assumed her knit
ting, one of those incomprehensible pieces
of female industry which seem to have nei-
ther beginning nor end.
SWELL" said she, with sigh, ''this is
Thanksgiving day. 1t doesn't seem like old
times at ALL We used to have a house full
of company, frolicksome young folks, and
cheerful old people; and now we are alone,
alone"
"Last Thanksgiving" said the old man,
"there was one with us, who seemed, to my
old eyes, like an angel of light, with her
fairy golden hair floating like glory on her
shoulders, and her little foot making music
as she moved about the old house. But even
then there was hectic flush upon her cheek,
like the red upon the maple leaf in autumn.
When the January SHOWS lay deep on the
hills and in the holows, we carried hre to her
last home-but Gods will be DONE"
"You forget we have another child alive"
"No, do not forget it," said the old man,
bitterly. "There is one living somewhere,
who has brought disgrace upon our name,
who has forgotten his parents and his God;
who has drunk deep Of the cup of iniquity,
and who has brought ruin and woe upon his
name and family"
"Do not speak so harshly of poor Will
liam," pleaded the mother.
"Why should not? Was he not insensi-
Bile to kindness-steeled against affection?
Did he not scatter my hard earnings to the
wind9 Is it not to him that owe the pros
pect of beggary and destitution9 Remember
the first Of February. That is the last day
of grace. If the money comes not then,
and God knows whence it is to come, we are
driven from beneath this roof-tree-a pair of
houseless beggars. Who will care for us
then?'
| "God will care for us" said the aged wo-
man, raising her eyes reverently to heaven
The old man made no reply, for his utter
ance was choked. At that moment the old
clock that stood ticking in the corner, struck
the hour of nine. The deacon rose.
'It is time to harness up old Dobbin, said
he, ''for we have long way to ride to meet
ing, and the roads are in a bad condition"
Their preparations were soon made, and
the old couple, poorly, but decently attired
sailed forth to their public devotions. The
services ended, the deacon and his wife, as
they issued from the porch, were kindly
greeted by many old friends and neighbors
more than one of whom pressed them tc
come and partake Of their Thanksgiving
cheer. But the deacon shook his head.
"Many thanks, friends" be said, "but evei