Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1868-03-11

then accepted the invitation without anoth-
er word
What a cheerful change it was, from the
frosty air chill twilight of the lonely road to
that bright kitchen with its spotless board
floor and resinous pine logs. And when
Melinda Carey drew a hump backed rock
ing chair to the hearth for him, and spoke
a word or two of welcome. John Siddons
wondered if the eyes of his mother who
died when he was babe had not beamed
upon him then.
L told mother so, this very morning,
said Zeuas, with a triumpant flourish OF his
hand, as he stirred up the logs to waving
glorious sheet of fame. Says | Melinda,
We II kill the biggest turkey, and I'll pick
out The yallerest pumpkins on the barn
floor And says she w hat tor Zenas when
| there only two to eat EN- 2 and says L
Mother David was here last Thanksgiv-
ing, with his new uniform, as brave aud
handsome as you II often see-now mother
don't cry.
Zenas interrupted himself to stroke his
wife's gray hair with a strangely tender
touch and went On:
Says [ He's gone where its Thanks
givin all the year round now, my poor boy
my brave boy but says |, well make
somebody welcome for David sake; won
We mother? And now, sir. you'll spend
| the morrow with US, and tell US about the
battle Of Gettysburg, where David died, cry
ing with his last breath not let the flag be
captured
| Zenas' voice died out into choking gas
ping sob. John Siddons laid his hand soft
| ly on the rough toll hardened hand of the
old farmer, whilea pangof envy shot through
his heart. All it was almost worth while
to be shot down in battle to be missed and
mOurnpd El-N dead David fiaray
''Oh, wife walled Zenas, when John
Siddons had fallen asleep in the little corn
er room that had been the lost boy s, it is
almost like having David back again
WIFE, L light my great sorrow down every
night, but every morning 1t comes up again
more than ever God help those whose
home Is made desolate by the field of bat
tie |"
Thanksgiving dawned with white whiri-
wind of driving snow that eddicI, among the
gnarled boughs of the apple trees in their
mad froIlcs, and edged the old stone wall
with dazzling ermine. And the fiery sparks |
e6m5ey meE sYEtfffty tfy sleaay Snow af
way aud gave battle, while the hearth glow,
ed with ruddy brightness, it 1t knew all |
about the Governor Proclamation and ap: |
proved of it.
.sYou have a cozy little farm here, MIR.
Carey, said John, as they walked through |
the snow storm to the church, whose spire
nestled among the everlasting hills beyond.
''If [ were only sure of it, sir, said lie
mas with sigh But | We been hard put
to it to get a long these times. Taxes and
such like come heavy on poor men, ana We
had a run of i'll luck so that the place Is
mortgagel to Its full value, and TO hard
man-one that will sell the home you We
been brought up in as soon as eat his break
n
be a black day when Melindy and me have
to leave Rock farm /; but it must come soon,
and don care what becomes of me after
wards | tell you sir, when man has liv5
ed to my age under one roof tree he don
take very kindly TO beiu' moved. Men are
like forest trees SIR you can take young
Que and do as you please, with 1t, but II you
transplant an old un it dies. Let 5 talk OF
something else, Mr.. Siddons | oughtu't to
complain Thanksgiving day.
John looked with feeling of actual rev.
erence at the hard featured old man whose
simple soul borne down as he was by debt,
and grief, and age, could still lind some
thing to be thankful for.
The turkey and pumpkin pies were smok-
ing on the round table when John and Ze-
mas returned from church and Mrs. Carey
had brought out her flowing blue plates
anu HtF CuOlCcSG Olu tlllIC Sll'Ci SPophS i'i
honor of her guest. There was no bever-
age but coffee that never knew the shores of
Java, and a pitcher of cold sparkling CIDER
but champagne could not have been more
cordially dealt out by Zenas: and Mrs. Ca
rey's smiling kindness gave flavor to the
chickorized rye that is sometimes lacking In
egg shell china
The table was cleared away, and they
were sitting around the fire, when the door
was opened, and Deacon Evarts entered,
| bringing small snowdrift en the shoulder
of his shaggy overcoat.
We'll | am beat T. quoth Zenas Take
chair, Deacon. Let me hang your eeat
afore the fire to dry"
Cant stay," said the Deacon, giving
| himself shake, like black water-deg on his
hind legs, Il thought you would like to
| hear the news, so [ jest dropped IN on my
way to my darter's Thanksgiving dinner.
News what news?'' exclaimed Zenas,
while his wife dropped her knitting
| ''Do tell then you haint heard ?"
| Il hain't heerd nothin' but the wind
howlin' down the chimbly,, and Elder
| Smith sarmon this mornln SAID Aenas.
a little impatiently.
1.-THE 'Squire's dead, up to the great
house ~
Dead You don't tell me so. That's
the man L was a speakln of as holding my
mortgage" explained Zenas, turning to
John Slddons, And when did it happen,
Deacon
DIED last night, sir, just about night
fall. as Quiet as a lamb. There wa MT no.
bodv with him but the old housekeeper-
folks didn' pose he was dangerous. And
4 LAWYER Ovid says there regular will, and
he's left all his property to the only rela,
t;ro ba had Twin: a soldierin teller he d