The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1865-12-01
Mistellaueoas.
FROM HlRPER's NAGAzlsll
OUR THANKSGIVING.

81 don't believe We shall have bit of fun. '
said Susy.
"why, amt she going to have pudding?'
That WAS Harry all over.
"0h. suppose there'll be pudding, cause
Mr.. Smith he sent up some raisins this mornin
II peekcd into the paper. But there isn't a
single sign OF a evergreen trimmin' put up, nor
a flag, nor any thing. And mother she just
looks 50 sober, and she hain't laughed oil day
long. Oh. think it's real horrid." '
- saw her cry too. She sent me after Il
clean handkerchief"
"Shc did! Well, s'pose lisa about Will
You know he came home last Thanksgiving
I" WiH alters laughed Thanksglvin'. Sue
nv didn't he put into the nuts and raisings
and string up the wish. bones ~
"IIarry why how you act Wills dead,
you know"
~ can't help it," said Harry alphabetically
~ alters had good times with him. wish he
wasn't dead. Didn't he look Iunny in mother''
bonnet aiterdinner ?" ~
Z" wish he wasn't dead too, Harry; but
then he is, you know. tried to cry this
mornin' when mother KEEP wipin' her eyes, but
didn't after all. wish she wouldn't look 80
horrid sober. You zee IL we have nice time
II know we shan't." .- .a s.
"Well," said Harry after moments con.
siieration, Z" there's the turkey, any how"
The sitting room door closed then, and little
feet pattered up stairs on their way to bed.
The parlor was cold, and the twilight hung
and deepened in tho room. just in front OF
me the frosts had ircscoed the window, and the
light OF faint rising moon struck through
them. In one little spot the children had dim
ned away the silver traccry by their warm
breath hut few mopents ago. Through 1t,
in the shadow of the church, something stood
out alone and still-something which had
drawn me into this lonely room, and fastened
and held my eyes on the cold, cruel window
something which no close-closed curtains OF
warm bome-light could ever shut out |; which
the width of world could not separate from
me: whose shadow fell across my very prayers,
and darksned the face Of God-the grave.
This night was 80 cold. The frosts, weaving
and weaving their pattern on the window,
chilled it So. What did those children mean
How merrily they were romping into bed up
stairs l wished they would not--to.nght--
tonight.
Tue fros,s. weaving and weaving their pat
terms on the window, weaved out OF sight the
church shadow and that within it. Only the
glitter Of the silvored picture was left, with the
moon faint behind il. drew my shawl over
nv shoulders and went into the other room.
bright fire was cracking on the hearth; the
curtains were drawn, red and warm and cozy,
behind the ivies; my rccking-chair was in its
place, with the cricket pushed up beside II
that was Susy. She was always thoughtful
more like
I found was chilled through, and sat down
by the FIRE. Then I covered my face with my
hands. . .r..,.a.
God knows how had dreaded this day
which was coming; how for months l had
shrank from it, and pleaded with It to pass me
by how had talked with 1t in dreams. and
been wakencd by my tears. and prayed Tor
strength to live it through; how like phan
tom II had confronted me, and haunted me,
and dogged my steps, and the strength had mol
come. And now IL was upon me.
Our Thanksgiviugs had ben no more, sup
pose, to us than to any who love the day; the
tender household memories clustering around
them no sweeter and no dearcr than thousands
and thousands; nor was my grief more than
any other mothers grief. But what was that
to me or mine? Our loss was rs irreparable,
my grief as solitary, as II the universe held no
other. For the heart knowcth its oWn bitter
ness.
lie loved these days SONY boy: he loved
them 50. For him and because Of him they
had always been 80 bright. And it was only
the last-only the last one that he was with
us. Just for u few days the short, happy fur
Tough lasted-days that brighten rs tho dis
tance between me and them grows wider and
darker. remember his face rs ! met him ut