American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1874-11-28
A SILVER CUP.
BIT KATE W. HAMILTON.

"A O1Av In CUIs
BIT KATE W. HAMILTON.
IT was a dark November day, with a
slow, cold rain falling steadily from the
gray sky, chilling the unclothed, SILVER
ing trees and beating piteously upon the
dead leaves where they lay. Its cold,
damp fingers kept monOtonously tapping
against the windows of q room which
but for that sound would have seemed
bright and cheerful A fire of Goals
glOwed in the open crate, delicate cur
tains half hid the windows, and flowers
roses and geraniums-grew there unter-
rified by the storm. Carpet, cushions,
and lounges were soft and fine in texture,
rich and warm in coloring; but Prissy's
eyes, wandering YEARLY from her book,
wore a decidedly discontinued expression
as she glanced about her, and Rowena,
in a far-away corner by the piano,
played snatches of sad, low music in a
fitful, distracted way.
do, Wene, stop that doleful medley
of walls, bowls, and funeral marchesn'
broke in Prissy's impatient voice at last.
Tomorrow will be Thanksgiving"
well, it doesn't seem much like it. "
said Rowena, facing about. "That ought
to mean sunshine and gay family gather
Her voice dropped little there, and the
shadow in Prissy's young eyes deepened
but softened
"Ay, we appoint a day in which to
give thanks for the years common,
countless mercies, and then feel ag-
grieved if some new, peculiar blessing
does not come to crown the day." said
grandmother softly.
She sat in her easy-chair before the
fire, yarn and needles in her busy hand,
knitting IN old-time thoughts with her
thread maybe, and taking up strange
memories with her stitches, but the brow
underneath the smooth gray hair was
beautifully peaceful.
Prissy noticed that more than she did
the remark, for she exclaimed suddenly:
What q dayi There is nothing bright
to be seen but the fire and grandmother's
facew
Nay" smiled the old lady, lifting
her eyes, as she had done often during
the last hour, to a tiny bracket where q
silver cup reflected the CLEAN of the fire.
light-an old cup, massive, richly chased,
odd in shape, and craven with a quaint
motto, II was watching how cheerily
brightness yet. 1t has seen the coming
and going of SO many, many Thanksgiv-
ing days." she added, lingering some
thing, almost tenderness, in her glance,
as if the polished silver had been the face
of friend.
Grandma" said the watchful Prissy,
as the gaze wandered thoughtfully back
to the bed of cleaning Goals, there is
a picture in your eyes now; l can tell
that, even through your spectacles.
What is it ?"
Is there?" answered the old lady q
little dreamily. "Then it must be of a
small log cabin standing alone in lone
~ country place, with the white snow
lying all around it."
yes; tell me about it." said Prissy,
moving her low seat nearer, and nesting
down upon it, with her tumbled brown
curis where the withered hand could
smooth them.
was young when we went there"
continued grandmother, still somewhat
abstractedly, and scarcely conscious that
she was being beguiled into a story. at
was hard to leave the old home and
friends, but there had been some trouble
and losses on the family place, and when
the estate was divided Roberts portion
didn't amount to a great deal. He
thought we could do better by going
West, and when, after looking about, he
found this faYm-the one with the little
log cabin upon it-for sale at remark
ably reasonable price he was very glad
to take it, and only wondered that with
farms all around it and the land SO rich
and valuable it had remained idle SO long
great distance then, though, after all,
it was only in Western New York. But
that was no day of railroads or tele-
graphs, you know, and felt almost as if
it were the other side of the globe
when the journey was over, and we were
fairly in our new home-my husband, the
children and l.
1--WE were very fortunate to get it as
we did, Robert often said during the
first few weeks, as he went about the
place, working and planning improve
ments here and there.
Il thought so too, and tried to comfort
myself with visions of the fair, pleasant
homestead it would some day become
when l felt tired or hOmesick. There
was work enough to keep us busy in get
ting comfortably settled and fair
chance to patrOniZe home manufactures,
and exercise our ingenuity too, for we
had taken but few articles of furniture
with us, and the nearest town was twelve
miles away. All! you girls have but lit
tie idea of that style of housekeeping.
There were only two rooms-One
large, one with tiny bedroom off it.
The last hadn't space for much embel-
fishing, and for the first, it's gas, pictures,
and ornaments were all gathered in the
large open fireplace at one end. After
all, a great, blazing, cheerful fire is a
beauty in itself, and stones for the want
of many other things. And when, one
day, had finished putting up curtains
at the odd little windows and gathered a
few stray hardy blossoms for that old
cup-mother's and grandmother's before
it was mine-and set it where it shone in
the fire blaze, as it does now, l thought
the old room looked cosy and pretty
notwithstanding it's rough walls and
scanty furniture
1.-The place was our own, all paid for;
that added something to its attractive
ness, no doubt. And though we had but
little ready money left that did not
trouble us much we had q large stock
of hopefulness. Robert was strong and
courageous. After the first year our
land would support US nicely, he said,