Fremont journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County [Ohio]) 1853-1866, 1856-02-01
9nistGllanGons.
AFTER MANY DAYS. "
BY VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.

BY VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.
"Cast thy bread upon the waters for thou shalt find it
after many days.
wont John be surprised, though and to
think l earned it myself, too. ELL strike his
eve the first moment he comes in, for I shall
have it stand right under the looking-gIass; J;
and little Mrs. Strong rested the handle of
her tin dipper on the edge of large earth
en- bowl, halfflled with rich pumpkin Ii
quied, and glanced towards anopposite door
which led into small front parlor. You
would have known at once that the thoughts
of the little woman were very pleasant ones
by the happy twinkling of her blue eyes,
and the smiles that every now and then re-
vealed the two dimples hidden just above
the curing of her fair, smooth cheek.
1t was bright morning on the hither
side Of November, and the sunshine. looked
with real Juae smile into the pleasant lit
tie kitchen, and wrote golden ballads on the
striped carpeting, and laid its bright stereo-
typing upon the newly white-washed walls
but after all, the little woman by the table,
with her checked apron and happy, beam
ing face, was the sweetest picture there
4 'spose all the ncighbors will stare dread
fully when they see It, continued Mrs. Strong,
as She deposited the contents of her ladle
in the heart of rich pie-crust 'but Tn sure
they can't say that Tn extravagant, rs 1
earned the whole sofy with my own lands,
taking in those plain shirts from Williams.
always thought the parlor looked dread
G,I1,- lo-o Zoo ,,-;tl, ,,c4biro. I,,+ 4bo 4oL1o
and the chairs, and those pictures over the
mantle l must hurry along with this bak-
inc to ride over to town with farmer VIII
liams, and engage them to send it over to-
morrow. How cheap it was-with that
carving on top too! It was as much as I
could do to keep from telling John what I'd
set about doing when he was here in Sep
tember; but I'm so glad now that contrivcG
to hold my tongue. Bless me, there's the
baby waking up, in Just the wrong time too?
The low cry of the half-awakened child put
all Mrs. Strong's dreams to flight, as she hur-
ried into the bedroom.
They were poor peoplc-the Strongs.-
You must have guessed that already, reader;
but the sunshine looked into many a gor-
geous parlor, and lay in rosy fanks about
the crimson drapery of many palace home,
and found less of real happiness and heart
light than dwelt behind the chintz curtains
of John Strongs cottage, in the suburbs of
the little village Of L..
He was a journevman carpenter, it is
true; and his wages were low, and his en-
ployment often called him, for months, from
his Young wife, and the sweet child that of
late had come to gladden. his home; but
their memories always lay like dew and
sunshine about his strong, honest heart, ner-
wing it for his daily toll, and gathering round
his pillow sweet home dreams, which many
a rich man might have envied.
John had been absent from home since
the late summer, and the days were now
hanging on the skirt of winter. No -Mon-
derthe wite's heart quickencd at his return
There I've got just tart enough left for
another pie said Mrs. Strong-it was a
strange habit she had of talking to herself
as she scolloped with her thumb and fore
finger the rim of her last pic. I'm sure 1
don't know what to do with it. We've got
enough 10 last whole week after thanks
giving, and-dear me, why didn't | think
of it before continued the amiable little
woman, as she achieved the first crust cir
Gle, I'll fix it as nice as l know how, and
give it to that little boy across the street
Poor little fellow. l don't believe he or his
mother have had any thanksgiving, for I've
seen her in the garden, and her larpe ewes
and pale, mournful features always made
my heart ache, though somehow L never
yet could find courage to speak to her
The boy shall have the pie though, that's
certain. I'll call him across the street and
give it to him, may be will open the way
to make acquaintance.
Little boy, little boy! Just come across
the road here, I've got something for YOU
The child was standing in the front door
of the old brown building, and the Novem-
Der wind was sitting through the long gold
en- curls that dropped like bright cloud
about his fair child-face, as he looked wist-
fully up and down the road, when Mrs.
Strongs voice arrested him.
She was leaning over the little white gate,
and there was something in her face that
would have brought most any child to her
side. The boy did not wait for a second in
vitation.
Come in, just minute, said Mrs. Strong,
in her kind, motherly way, as she took his
hand and led him into the kitchen, 'herc's a
a nice thanksgiving tart pie I've been max
ing for you to-day. Don't you love pie, lit
tIo mon