Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1856-03-20
A SKETCH FROM LIFE.


A SKETCH FROM LIFE.
At o'clock on Thanksgiving morning,
deacon Wilson arose as he was wont, no hol-
iday making any change in his hours. Yet
now he no longer sprarg from his bed with
the elacrity which changed duty into pleas
ure; he rose because impcrious necessity
commanded it. There were the cattle to be
fed and watered, and the poultry to receive
the same attention, and there was moreover
n 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 his life, the
whole burthen Of managing his place had fall
len on his shoulders. Fortunately they were
broad and strong-fortunately, his constitu-
tion was good, his spirits elastic, and his pi-
ETY. sincere, for his burthens and trials were
indeed weighty. He had been comparative
ly rich-he was now in embarrassed circum-
stances lie had looked forward to the time
when a son should relieve him of the most
laborious of his tolls, while daughter per-
formed the same kind office for his wife
Both had been disappointed-and now the
old couple were the solitary tenants of that
lone 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 comfor-
table, returned to the old kitchen. BY this
time the good wife had prepared breakfast,
and genial fire was diffusing its heat thro'
the apartment.
The old couple sat down to breakfast, af-
ter blessing by the old farmer, but the meal
passed by in silence. 1t was followed by a
fervent prayer and the reading of portion
of the Scripture. After this they adjourn
ed to the sitting room, where good fire was
burning, and where the dame resumed her
knitting, one of those incomprehensible pie
ces of female industry, which seems to have
neither beginning nor end.
"Wcll," said she with sigh, "this is
Thanksgiving day. 1t does mt seem like old
times at all. We used to have house full
of company, frolcksomc young folks, and
cheerful old people; and now We are all a.
lone, alone,"
"Last Thanksgiving day." said the old
man, "there was one with lis 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 mu-
sic as she moved about the old house But
even then there was hectic flush upon her
check, 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 Gods will be
DONE"
"You forget we have another child alive"
"No, I do not forget it," said the 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 upon his name
and family.
"Do not speak harshly Of poor William"
pleaded the mother.
Why should I not? Was he not insen-
sible to kindness-steeled against affection ?
Did he not scatter my hard earning to the
wind? Is it not to him that I owe the pros
pect of beggary and destitution Remem-
ber 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 houseless beggars. Who will care for
us then ?"
nGod 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.
nIt is time to harness old Dobbin," said
he, "for we have a long way to ride to mee-
ting and the roads are in 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, we're kindly
greeted by many old friends and neighbors,
more than one of whom pressed them to
come and partake of their thanksgiving
cheer But the deacon shook his head.
"NIany thanks, my friends" said he, "but
ever since have been householder, I have
kept my thanksgiving at home, and shall
continue to do so, so long as I have house
remaining over my head"
So 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. A stranger was seated by the kitch-
en- fire, who rose on her entrance. lie was
tall stalwart man, dressed in roug III suit,
with a broad-leafed hat; his countenance
enlbrowned by exposure to the sun and wind,