The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1871-12-02

are other ways OF keeping the feaStS than
with stutfiing the stomach, you KNOW
thought to myself it would he as well
if the stomach had it's share of rejoicing.
Tanner, cheerful and chirrupy as he was,
looked meagre and hunger bitten. Four
people could not grow fat on eight dollars
a week, which l found was his salary
He hired vacant house for MONTH
There it is-that one behind the hill. The
family went to housekeeping in some sort
of way in it, and he used to run on Friday
evenings to stay with them over Saturdays,
which is the newspaper mems Sunday, as
you know. We grew to he very friendly.
fell into the habit of watching with him
for Dan, who always came out on the porch
to wait for him, his mother holding him by
the hand. l used to wonder if the poor
little widow ever let 60 her hold of the
child day or night, and once remember
thinking what she would do if the child
should die. One has those queer, idle fan
cies, you know. But Dams mother was
one of those women who seem to have no
life outside of the one or two people they
love.
Well. Thanksgiving eve came, and Tan
ner was aboard going home, but had no
time to talk to him, as the train was crowded
with people who had been up to Whining
ton laying in supplies for the holiday
Even the passenger cars were heaped with
baskets and bundles. Tanner had his lit
tie package, too-something for Dan.
saw him peeping into it with his eyes twin
king once or twice. / remember how
pleased he was when brought him mon
ster turkey for Mrs. Tanner. The old
lady, although she had only seen me on the
train as it whisked by, had taken an anx-
ious interest in a sore throat l had, and
sent me bottle of myrrh-tea by the old
gentleman.
don't know whether it was because l
had come from part of the country where
they don't keep Thanksgiving, or because
of the horror that followed, but remem-
Der that afternoon as one of the brightest
and cheerfullest of my life. The air was
cold and Grip. There was a red mist over
the hills; in the cars and the stations there
was nothing but good humor and friendly
good wishes. I don't think much of seri-
Gus things, yet it seemed to. me that day
that the people came with one accord nearer
to God because of Thanksgiving. One old
gentleman on board had the same idea, l
suppose: for, as / sat down behind him to
count my change, l saw him watching the
passengers ard houses we passed with an
amused smile, and, turning to his compan-
ion, he said:
"There's something very wholesome in
the effect of these holidays, Colonel. They
awaken men to sense of dependence and
gratitude, as year sermons can not do"
The other was so long in replying that l
looked up at him.
"When a man has home or home ties
to give thanks for, the holiday is useful, no
doubt
1t was so queer and cold an answer that
felt curiosity about the man. He went
back to his newspaper (Which was an Eng
fish one, noticed and began to talk
Immediately about the duties on silks and
linens. soon found that he was largely
interested in both; had travelled over a
good part of the world, traded in China
and Japan, and, as guessed, successfully.
He had the air of a man accustomed to
command, and to life of ease. He was a
middle aged, stoutly-built man, with a
clean shaved, powerful face, and shrewd,
pleasant eyes. l noticed that through all
his conversation he tried to avoid seeing
the happy groups Of people who were inces-
sanity getting on or off the train; and
once, when child in passing pulled at his
cane, he turned his back roughly on it.
Yet had fancy-I don't know why
that the people and Thanksgiving mattered
more to him than any of us.
His friend said to him presently, "You' re
not well, Celonel?" "Never was better.
But the truth is, Eenn, this country is all
familiar to me, and anything which recalls
old times makes me nervous and irritable.
It's a weakness which will outgrow, pro-
badly. If you'll excuse me, I'll go for
ward He saw me just then, and touch
ing his hat asked leave to ride on the
, engine, in order to see the scenery.
Now the rules of the road were slip-shod
enough but that was thing never had
allowed. However, had taken curious
interest in the man, and liked his corteous
manner, so nodded and went before him
through the baggage-car, and over the ten
der to see him safely across. To my sur
prise, Joe Fenton, our engineer, met him
as an old acquaintance. Joe had been a
private in his regiment during the war
They shook hands again and again, and
Fenton was in such a hurry to tell that he
was married, and the father of twins, that
he stammered. The Colonel laughed, and
looked as pleased as Joe. He was differ
waited moment to point out Brock S
model farm to him, when Joe said:
| You used to come down to these parts
/
for fishing, often, l remember, Colonel
| eyes"
"Where is your good lady now, sir p
| And the child? He was as peart young.
ster as ever knowed.''
The gentleman replied but by gesture
with his hand.
What! both? ?" gasped Joe. "Both ~
The Colonel did not sp eak for minute,
and then he said quietly: "My wife was
with me in China. She sailed with tb
child for home on the Petrol. was to f j
low six months later. The Petrol W en-
down. There was no one saved.'
Joe said nothing; but presently he pu
out his hand and smoothed the otf. er nan
sleeve. 1t was just such thing as
woman would do.
The Colonel added hastily. as if afrai
he would betray any emotion. "rm o
my way West now, in search of nv father
who has left New England. People al
easily lost sight of in Amer ica.'
"That's a fact, SIR So id Joe, I'D the
he and began to talk about the engin,
glad to get back to her. We had no rigl
| ri