Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1872-05-25
AUGUSTA. ME. SATURDAY MORNING. 25 1879
Miseellatteous.
CONTENTS THMKGIvING,
EI AT GlSTA IARNED.


drew up to the fire. united his comforter.
and rubbed his hands together with a
gentle motion.
I'm so glad YOU called said Mrs.
Whitaker, setting her cap straight and
smoothing her apron, to which little fra
grant particles clung in memory Of the
mlnce pies she had that day been con-
coctiGg. ''lt will save Joshua Journey.
for the turkey you see is all pinned up in
towel. and it will 90 right in under your
wagon seat. Away back in September
Josh named that bird parson s turkey; it
did so well and plumed up SO fast There
was another we agreed should be called
JOBS turkey; it was naturally lean like
some folks with big appetite Nothing
PUT away made any fat on its bones"
The parson laughed soft, oily little
laugh. and then, as il remembering that
something was due. he said You are
very kind sister Whitaker. | hope the
Lord will make us thankful for all his
mercies. How is contento"
"Content,' repeated the good dame
80 She keeps around, but she aint worth
cent to eat, and comes down in the
morning dreadful slim. If there was con-
sumption in the family, should think she
was going into decline; hut there aint ::
and tell father something's weighing on
that girls mind. should like 10 have
You talk with Content. and draw her out.
shes dreadful close mouthed, Ike all the
Nhittakers; but I've a notion that since
she united with the church there's some
'n"trinal point that don't set well on her
mind. 1t might be election YOU know.
Father ha. bad spell every now and
then over free will and necessity. It's
Kind of kctchin', but don't believe ever
was broke of my rest over point of doc
trine in my life. They're ali as clear to
my mind as daylight. If i; aint doctri-
nal point. | mistrust George Baker has
got something to do with il. He used to
come here sight after he got back from
college. but latterly he's dropped off and
Content is so proud you'd never know
whether she cared the snap Of her finger"
Mrs. Whitaker ceased almost from want
OF breath, and the parson : voice broke in
soft and unctuous: The human heart is
desperately wicked, sister Whitaker;
/ perhaps it would be we'll to have a season
OF prayer
1T would be rctreshin )" returned the
/ good woman, with an anxious wrinkle
gathering in the middle of here forehead;
'but you see my pies are just on the
tuln, and all the irons are in the fire, and
j every minute I'm expecting brother
john folks over to spend Thanksgiving.
You might go into the keeping room
there's a fire thcre-and see Content
alone. think it would do her Il sight of
good to have talk on spiritual things"
Content, up stairs in her chamber.
which communicated with the sitting-room
through stove-pipe hole, had overheard
every syllable of the foregoing converse
ton. 1t made her cheeks burn hot, and
filled her with dismay. She did not want
to be prayed for, and her whole being re-
belled against affording an occasion for
mechanical religious exercise To be
sure she felt sore-hearted aud miserable
enough; she needed the consolng touch
ola tender hand but the idea that help
| out of her peculiar trouble could come
through the parson never occurred to her
mind. She loved 4 man who, she be-
leved. had sought her company for his
own amusement, and when it pulled upon
him had gaily left her to find fresh fields
and pastures new. Love had stirred the
deep places in Contents soul, and now
She was slowly freezing over. turning
hard, bitter, and unthanktul, except when
a sharp pang broke up the surface and
left her prey 10 acute anguish.
This year all thanksgiving preparations
seemed to her mockcry. She longed to
escape from the prying eyes of inquisitive
relatives, to avoid the great dinner in
which her mothers soul delighted, and
get away by herself where she could be
undisturbed. Now, as she heard her
kind, well-ntentioned mother expatating
on Contents ailments and want of spirits.
nd ,rin ,n, ,la ~.
places, it seemed as though she must take
wings and fly away. She looked out of
the window, up the steep hillside to the
woods, where all day she had at intervals !
heard the cracking of some hunters rifle.
for a light snow had fallen. aud the sport
was good. 1t was Il bushy hill, with gray
boulders lying about, and beyond the bare
scattered trees at the top low red sunset
was beginning to burn like fire, lighting
up the snow with hectic CLEANS. The
sun, in those short days, appeared to 90
down in the middle the afternoon.
Content, feeling that she must escape.
and not stopping to reflect how late it was
tied on her hood lined with pale blue silk,
which was becoming to her fair skin. and
pinning an old shawl around her shout |
ders, noiselessly slipped down the back
stairs, out of doors. She heard her moth
er calling Content, where are you ?n but
the sound only made her feet fly the fas-
ter through the barn-yard and up the hill
They slipped on the dead grass and leaves
under the treacherous snow, but she clung
to the bushes and rocks, and when she
had pulled herself up to the top her shoes
were half full of slush, and her breath was
gone. She looked back and saw that the
red sunset had faded to concentrated
glow along the horizon. The door of the
farm house was plain in sight from where
she stood; she witnessed the departure
of the parson, and the arrival of Uncle
Johns family, with feeling of exultation
at her escape. The cold air, bracng and
crisp with frost, seemed to allay the fever
tha! throbbed along her pulse. She went
on hall running into the woods, without
amy other purpose than to brace and stea-
dy herself by Il little interval of quiet un-
der the sky. Every step Of the way was
familiar; and her feet kept on threading
their path through the trees, while the
dusk deepened and the scattered rays OF
dayliUht fell in phOstiy fashion on the