Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1870-12-21
HuIdah the Help.
A TuASKsGuING LOVE STORY.


THASKsGvING LOVE STORY.
| remember a story that Judge Bsicod
told a few years ago on the afternoon Of
Thanksgiving Day. | do not feel sure
that it will interest everybody as it did
me. Indeed, [ am afraid that it will not
and yet | cannot help thinking that it i:
just the sort of trihe that will 20 wei
with turkey, celery, and mince pie.
1t was in the Judges own mansion on
Thirty-fourth street that | heard it. Il
does not matter to the reader how !, a
stranger, came to be one of that family
party. Since l could not enjoy the socie
ty Of my own family, it was an act O.
/ Christian charity that permitted me tc
share the joys Of others. We had eaten
dinner and had adjourned TO the warm
bright parlor. l have noticed on such
occasions that conversation Is apt to fag
after dinner. Whether it is that digestion
absorbs all Of ones vitality, or for some
/ other reason, at least 30 it generally fall,
out that people may talk ever so brilliant
! ly at the table, but they will hardly keeT
it up for the first half-hour afterward
And so it happened that some Of the party
fell TO looking at the books and some tC
turning the leaves of the photograph al
bum, while others were using the sterco-
scope. For my own part, l was staring
at an engraving in a dark corner OF the
parlor, where l could not have made out
much Of its purpose if | had desired
but In reality i was thinking of the joyou,
company of my own kith and kin, hundred,
of miles away, and regretting that | could
not be with them.
What are you thinking about, papa -?
asked Irene, the Judges second daughter
She was a rather naughty looking giri
of sixteen, but, as | had noticed, very
much devoted to her parents At this
moment she was running her hands through
her fathers hair, while he was rousing
himself from his revery to answer her
question.
Thinking of the old Thanksgivings
which were so different from anything We
have here. They were the genuine thing
these are only counterfeits.'
Come, tell Us about them, pleato.
This time it was Annie Balcom, the older
girl, who spoke. And we all gathered
round the udge. For | notice that when
conversation does revive, after that period
Of silence that follows dinner, it is very
attractive to the whole company, and in
whatsoever place it breaks out, there Is
soon a knot Of interested listeners
don't just now think Of any particu-
lar story of New England Thanksgiving
that would interest you, said the Judge
Tell them about Huldas mince-pie,
said Mrs. BalcOm, as she looked up from a
copy Of Whittier she had been reading
1 cannot pretend TO give the story which
follows exactly in the Judges words, for
it is three years since | heard it, but near
ly as | can remember it was as follows
There was young lawyer by the name
Of John Harlow, practising law here in
New York twenty odd years ago. His
father lived not very far away from my
father. John had graduated with honors,
had studied law and had the good fortune
to enter Immediately into 4 partnership
with his law preeeptor, Ex-Gov. Blank
So eagerly had he pursued his studies that
for two years he had not seen his country
home. | think one reason why he had
not cared to visit it was that his mother
was dead, and his only sister was married
T.
folks out Of house, and it never seem.
much like home to a young man.
But now, as Thanksgiving Day drew
near he resolved TO give himself a briei
release from the bondage Of books. He
told his partner that he wanted to 20 home
for a week He said he wanted to see hi,
father and the boys, and his sister, who
was coming home at that time, but that he
especially wanted to ride old Bob to the
brook once more, and to milk Cherry
again, Just to see how it felt to be farm.
er's boy.
john said the old lawyer, be sure
you fix up match with some of those
country girls no man is fit for anything
till he is well married, and you are now
able with economy to support wife. Mind
you get one Of those country girls. These
paste and powder people here arn't fit fol
a young man who wants woman
Governor, said the young lawyer, lay
ing his boots gracefully up on top of pile
of law-books, as if to encourage reflection
by giving his head the advantage of the
lower end of the inclined plane, Govern
or, don't know anything about city girls
l have given myself to my books. But
must have wife that is literary, like my
self,-one that can understand Emerson
for instance.
The old lawyer laughed. John, he
answered, the worst mistake you can make
is to marry a woman just like yourself IN
taste You don't want to marry a wo'
mans head but her heart
John defended his theory, and the Gov
ernor only remarked that he would be
cured of that, sooner or later, and the
sooner the better.
The next morning John had letter
from his sister. Part of 1t ran about
thus
I've concluded, old fellow, that if you
don't marry you'll dry up and turn tc
parchment. m going to bring home with
me the smartest girl | know. She read;
Carlyle, and quotes Goethe, and under
stands Emerson. OF course she don't
know what l am up to, but you must pre-
pare to capitulate.'
John did not like Amanda S assuming tc
pick wife for him, but he did like the
prospect of meeting a smart girl, and he
opened the letter again to make sure he
had not misunderstood. He read again
understands Emerson. John was pleased
Why? l think can divine. John wa:
vain of his own abilities, and he wanted a