The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1856-08-07
A Dark Morning and Light Evening

holiday made any change IN his hours. Yet
now he no longer sprang from his bed with
the aacrity which changed duty into pleas
ure; he rose because imperIous necessity com
manded il. There We're the cattle to be fed
and watered, and the poury to receive the
same attention. and was, moreover. a fire to
be made in the huge old kitchen fire place;
for the deacon had now no servant or helper.
and in the grey winter of lis lite the whole
burden OF managing his place had fallen on
his shoulders. Fortunately, they We're broad
and strong fortunately his constitution was
good, his spirits elastic. and his picty sincere,
for his burdens and trials We're indeed weigh
ty. tie had been comparatively rich. he was
now in embarrassed circums an"es. He had
looked forward to the time when a son should
relieve him of the most laborious of his tolls,
while daughter performed the same kind
office for his wife. Both had been disappoint-
ed-and now the old couple We're the solitary
occupants of that lone farm house.
The deacon went mechanically about his
morning hbors; he drove the cattle to the
water tank he supplied them with fresh fodder.
and after seeing that they were comfortable
returned to the old kitchen. By this time the
good wife had prepared a breakfast, and a
genial fire diffu>lng lis heat through the
apartment.
The old couple sat down to breakfast. after
a blessing by the old farmer. but the meal
passed by in silence. II was followed by a
fervcnt prayer and the reading of a portion
of the Scriptures. After this they adjourned
to the sitting room, where good fire was
burning, and where the old dame assumed her
knitting, one of those incomprehensibe pieces
Of female industry which seems 10 have
neither beginning nor end.
well" sal she. with sigh, "this is
Thanksgiving day 1t doesn't seem like old
times at all. We used to have house 'ull Of
company, froiicksome young folks, and cheer
ful old people; and now alone"
Last Thanksgiving day, s" said The old man.
''there WAS one with Us who seemed to my
eyes like An angel of light, with her fairy gol
den hair floating ike Z lory 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 hollows. we carried her to her last home -
but God will be DONE
You forget that we have another child
alive"
mo. l do not forget it," said the old man
bitterly. There Is one living somewhere,
who has brought disgrace upon our name;
who has forg tten his parents and his God; /;
who has drunk deep of the cup of iniquity,
and who has brought ruin and woe upon his
name ana his family
DO not speak harshly of poor William"
pleaded the mother
Why should | noto Was he not nsensi-
bic TO kindness-steeled against affection?
DID he not scatter my earnings to the wind?
l. it not to him that | owe the prospect of
be-garv and destituton? Remember the
first day of February. That is the last day
of grace. 1t the money comes not then. and
Col knows whence it is to come, we are
driven from beneath this roof-a pair of house-
hold beg-ars. Who will care for Us them"
God will care for u.s." said the aged wo-
man, raising her eyes reverently to heaven.
The old man made no reply, for utterance
was choked. Al that moment the old clock,
that stood ticking in the corner, struck the
hour of nine.
The deacon rose.
1T is time to harness old Dobbin," said he,
''for we have long way to ride to meeting,
and he roads are in a bad condition.
Their preparations were soon made. and the
old couple poorly but decenly attired, sailed
forth to their public devotions. The services
ended, the deacon and his wife, as they issued
from the porch, were kindly greeted bv many
old friends and neilhbors, more than one of
whom pressed them to come and partake of
their Thank sgivinI cheer. But the deacon
shook his head.
Many thanks, nv friends" he said. ''but
ever since | have been a householder | have
KEEP. my Thanksgiving at home, AMI | shall
con Inue to do SO. as long as | have a house
rem aiming over my head"
s. they rode home together While the
deacon drove up to the barn to put up his
horse the old lady opened the back door,
which was always on the latch, and entered
the kitchen. As she did so she started back
\ stranger w..s seas ed by the kitchen FIRE
who rose nj her entrance He was tall
stalwart man. dressed in a rough suit, with
bro d leated hat his countenance embrowned
bv exposure to the sun and wind, and his
upper lip almost concealed by heavy and
luxurient moustache.
Good morning. ma'am," he said with
some embarrassment. Finding no one ans
ing in | believe | owe YOU no apology. for
have cffieiated as turn~pit and saved Your
Thanksgiving turkey from burning
Il am very much obliged TO you. | am
sure" answered the old lady, pulling off her
mit,ens. Bat did you want to see NE. or
the deacon9"
Both of you answered the stranger
You have a son | believe?
Yes, replied Mrs Wilson, with hesitation.
and casting lown her eyes.
Il have seen him lately"
"Whe e?'' inquired the mother. with in
erea.in agitation.
In California"
WAS he doing well?'
admirably. Mother! mother" he added
impe,uouSly. t. rowing back his hat, don't
YOU know me--don't you know your William
He rushed in.o his mothers arms. and was
clasped TO her beating heart. while the tears
sireamed freely from the eyes of both After