Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1871-12-21

Very we'll, Rachel he made answer,
sadly. can't press you any more !;
but Rachel
sYes|
You'll come to our house tomorrow !?
Your father and mother have promised
Hepsy TO eat their Thanksgin' dinner
with us. You'll come, Rachel, just to
show you don't bear any malice for the
foolish works I've spoken
Yes, Elan, I'll come !
SO Elan BaIstow left her. where the
red light from the brown cottage under
Beech Mountain shone out across the
lonely road, and Rachel went home
alone.
The light from the great wood-fire
CLEANED cheerfully upon her as size
opened the door. disclosing quaint
little room, low-ceiled. and fragrant
with the resinous sap which was bub-
bling out at the end of the blazing logs
"A room wainscoted half the way to
the ceiling, and covered with well
worn rag carpet. woven by Mrs. Riv-
crs' own thrifty hands. There were
two rockers, cushioned in rainbow-col-
ored patchwork an old clock all fas-
tened with red bcrried asparagus, a
spindle-legged table. and fat copper
tea kettle swinging from the crane, and
cat purring softly on the tirebrick.
the various elements of the picture
which constituted home in Rachel
Rivers eyes.
Mrs. Rivers glanced up from her
work--a fat, rosy little woman. with
checks like winter apples, and eyes
that still sparkled brightly behind their
spectacle glasses.
Seems 10 me you're early tonight
Rachel
No, Mother, I'm little late.
DO tell and I've been so busy try
in 10 cut vest out of your fathers old
bnttcrnut coat that somehow haven't
even heard the clock strike =
Mr. Rivers chuckled from his station
at the right hand corner OF the hearth
Mothers dreilul smart at contriyin
Nv 0A4'is 'N't TAlt Attt llitSt Spilfliilil
out . nothin' and old buttcrnut Goa,
canes the nearest 10 nothn' Of any
created object know Of. Mays well
put up your shears, mother-you won't
make it 60,
I'll bet big apple will, then re,
tortei the plump little matron briskly,
Look Rav--a cross piece here, witt
the fronts right off the tails. ant
ihcrell DC enough for lapels ani t
cover buttons without touching then
worn spots =
Rachel looked down Mt the inelan
cho.y remains of the old butternut coat
Oh mother, she said, with suddcr
Impulse u Ioathing At the petty trial,
and pinchings Of their lives, Il wish w,
wcrt not poor
'Praps we shan't he always sale
Mrs. Rivers, regarding her daughter
kccnly over the tops OF her spectacle
There's EIam Barstow, says
Don't, mothcr-don't !, iutcrrupte,
Rachel, throwing oil her shawl AN,
hurrying 10 the fire, 4, if to warm he
/ slender little hands Elan Bar,tow i
/ nothing 10 me =
Mrs. Rivers smothered the ,harI
I panI Of disappointment at her heart
4 ou take me up so quick, RAY sh
| saiu petulantly. i was only a sayin.
/ Elam's folks have invited us all To thci
home To Thanksgiving, and I'm gIa,
ont. for somehow our turkeys don
/ grow fat, and Lyme Dartmouth ha
sold every one Q them pumpkins upol
the mountains, and-aud-'
And we're poor, mother, and cant
afford to set Thanksgiyln' dinner ilk
We used-why Don't you speak ont a
once demanded Seth Rivers, with
tremulous motion of his poor old par
Alvtc hands. Come darter, lets nav
supper-the kettles billed over lon!
ago.
And Rachci moved about the littl
room with a sinking at her heart
vague sense ofuncertalnty as to whcth
cr she were doing wholly and alto.ctl
Y her duty.
Il will work all day in the factory
| Will bind shoes IN tn. evening" sii
thought, within herself Il will SCI
my time and my strength, and INV toi
but | will not sell my heart
She sat up late that night, long attc
old Seth and hi, wife were III bed an
asleep, working at her needle bv til
sickly light of the solitary tallow can
die. TO try and earn little more money
For mothers bonnet cannot b
bleached again without falling To piece
she mused. and fathers oyercoat is to
shabby To wear another winter =
50 Rachel stitched on AT the heap q
shoes she was binding, and tried t
disguise from herself how weary an,
sleepy she was, while the cricket chr
ped shrilly underneath tine hearthstoue
and the fire simmered and crackle
through the silence.
The clock struck eleven. when a
last she rose up and glanced out of th
window.
How dark ii is. and how the win
howls " she murmured TO herself, wit
an instructive feeling of pity for stra
travellers toiling along the solitary roao
THANK Heaven we are not 50 poor a
some in this world
And when Thanksgiving mornin
dawned, the chill gray air was full I
lazily falling dakes Of starry snow.
i knowed 1t was goip' to snow,' sal
old Seth Rivers i felt it in my bone
last night. We'll, do like seasonabl
weather.
The same snow, falling faster now
and vito persistency which threat
ened a prolonged storm, clinked agains
the window panes Of the huge kitche
in Elan Barstow's hospitable faru
house, and fringed the boughs OF tn
hemlocks in the door-yard with ermin
whiteness; while Miss Hepsy, spar
maiden lady somewhat about forty
hurried back and forth. intent upo
festive preparation.
The Thanksgiving table, already st