The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1870-12-01
RUTII'S THANKSGIVING.

Deacon Obed Carey to Mrs. Elan Skin
ner. The gray November twilight was
closing, like the misty shadows of a
dream, over the desolate valley that lay
between the rock-crested hills, fringed
with hemlocks and white pines, while
the gray green foliage of cedar copses
gave a ghostly simmer to the distance.
just at the mouth of the valley, the
mirror-like CLEAN of Lake Champlain
reflected the dull armament, and be-
yond, the peaks of far-oF mountains
lost their outlines in the low-hanging
vapors of the sky-the Adirondacks
themselves.
But Deacon Carey, who had been
graded, as it were, among their gran
deurs, never thought of the Adirondacks,
except as a very Improbable investment
of land. Familiarity breeds contempt,
and even the Colossus of Rhodes, or
Niagaras self, cease to inspire awe to
their next door ncighbor.
"Folks come dreadful ways to look
at them hills" said the deacon, irrever-
emily, land, arter all, they amt no
great shakes. Give me good medder
lot, or field where the yaller punkins
is a-shinin' out among the shocked corn
That's my notion of beauty! Guess it
would be pretty long while afore any
body raises crop o rye out o the Adj
rondacks."
And, after all, there was an inkling of
common sense in the deacon's view Of
things.
Mrs. Elan Skinner lived in brown
farmhouse, whose overhanging caves
made you think of boy who has pulled
his cap too far over his eyes-a farm
house upon whose shinglod roof the gold
and scarlet maple-leaves rained do wn in
rustling drifts at every sough of the
melancholy wind. There were not two
such maple trees along the whole shores
of Champlain as those Mrs. SINNERS
grandfather had planted in the Revolu-
tionary days, when he never knew, COM
ing home at night with his axe over his
shoulder, whether he should not find
his home heap of smoldering cinders,
with the cry of the savage redskin where
his babies cooling voices had sounded at
the morning tide He was in his grave,
dust and ashes, long ago, but the naples
renewed their youth with every year.
Within you saw -ceiled room,
with colored prints hanging on the wall,
Il mist of asparagus over the clock-shelf,
and white and yellow chrysanthemums
blossoming between the net-tringed cur
tains of the three little windows. A
rag-carpet, woven in dazzling stripes of
red and blue, covered the floor, while
the bricks of the clean-swept hearth
could not have glowed brighter if they
had been carved in Neapolitan coral,
and fire of splendid chestnut logs
blazed and cracked, wreathing the pol
ished brass tire-dogs as if they had been
a pair of John Rodgers at the stake, suf-
fering continual martyrdom. Mrs.
Skinner herself, wiry, compact little
woman, in a green gingham dress and
winking spectacles, sat darning stockings
! by the blaze, for she was thrifty dame,
and while she begrudged the wasted
moments of twilight, she had no idea OF
lighting candle until it was fairly and
Squarely dark.
Obed Carey occupied the cushioned
focker opposite, tail and brown and
loose -jointed, with here and there sill
yer thread in his dark hair, and hands
where the veins stood cut like cord. A
hard working man, and man who ac-
cepted his inheritance OF toll with sort
OF grim satisfaction, he would have
afforded no inappropriate type OF the
New England Farmer OF the past gen
eration, US he sat there, erect and thin
and uncompromising.
And while her elders talked, Ruth
Skinner sat close against the chimney
jamb, tin-pan full of apples in her lap,
pairing diligently away, with the fire
light glinting on her sunny brown hair.
and tonching her eyelashes with the rich
aureate auburn which old artists de-
light in.
Ruth was small and dimpled, and ex-
quisitely fresh, like the rosy peach which
hangs on the south wall after the first
frosts, and she had violet gray eyes,
|darkening into blue around the edge of
the irids, and dewy scarlet lips, and
slender throat, cireled with a string of
red wood berries; and, as she worked,
there was an unconscious grace in her
motions that made you like to look at
her.
"Yes," said Mrs. Elan Skinner, an
swering the deacon's remark; 81 see.
1t was dreadful unfortunate dispense
ton that Mrs. Carey should be took
away"
"Four year ago this very month"