The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1874-12-25
MY THANKSGIVING.
BY ]. c. 7


think it one of the noblest works of
nature and most stnpendous creations
of art but, strange to say, do not.
My Aunt Miranda lives in the coun-
try, where the grass grows green, the
woodbine twineth, and where 'fMary had
a little lamb, )" is seen in all her glory.
To sthis rural paradise / was invited
to transport myself, and participate
in the Thanksgiving ceremonies. For
two weeks I feasted upon anticipa-
tions of mighty turkeys and pyramids
of pumpkin pies; surprising Mrs. Green
and my fellow-boarders by not devour-
ing more than three fourths of the daily
food. If my reputation suffered among
my associates, and Miss Green anxious
ly inquired, g Are you well, Charles
Henry ?'-she always calls me thus
would at least surprise Aunt Miranda
and herturkeys.
Tom Jones kindly proffered his SER
vices in regard to watching over me
during our journey, torturing me with
his melancholy attempts at joke, and
helping to annihilate the provisions.
For the past three years, Aunt
Miranda has, in connection with her
pumpkin pies, exhibited to my admir-
ing eyes the country daughters for
miles around. hoping that some red
checked lassie would make the wished
L
her of Toms coming, and limited mys-
teriously at certain thousands that
might become his, / was assured that
he would be at once the recipient of
smiles from inuumerable rustic maid
ems.
Our landlady seemed oVerjoYed at our
departure, and, with the parting advice
that she gave us, she asked if we would
take our trunks. Flinging back the in
=
retorted that our finances had not fully
recovered from the effects of the panic,
and therefore our trunks would be left
behind Arabella tearfulIy bade us
farewell, and hoped that we would soon
return, for they would be SO lonesome.
Who could resist such entreaties :?
Surely not I, and I said I would.
person who has not an Aunt
Miranda who concocts famous Thanks
giving banqaets, cannot not imagine
the joy that thrilled our souls as Tom
and L presented ourselves at the depot,
preparatory to taking the cars for Bang
town, which historical locality was our
destination.
Upon arriving at the depot, we found
as is usually the case, that TIE train
would not leave for an hour. Joining
the multitude of unfortunates who, like
ourselves, were waiting to be conveyed
70 oOL4O 4OIS1SA SAOI0t We GdgGT1F TGdO
the time tables, posters and tracts that
congregate about depot. Then we
tranped up and down, counting the
windows, and gazing upon our fellow
sufferers, who, with their faces wearing
the lugubrious look incident upon such
occasions, were soleInnly pulling out
their watches every seventeen seconds,
and, after inwardly Quoting passage
from Robinson Crusoe, sadly replacing
them.
Tom, with his usual modesty, was
fast inRratiating himself into the good
graceSaCf q certain nnatron whom he had
once met, and who was accompanied by
her daughter, when the train started,
and once more7Visions of murmuring
brooklets, big beets and Thanksgiving
floating before our eyes, until BangtCWn
was announced. On the platform I
beheld my terror-'e.T That boy Jim -
who, for three successive years, had
practiced his demoniacal arts upon me,
from the moment stepped into his
chariot to be conveyed to the farm
house. until bade farewell to Bang
town. Upon his face rested look of
sadness as he contemplated how much
more opportunity for the display of his
evil genius two SO city chaps " afforded
than one. He was unusually communi-
cative, and, ere we had ridden far, com
pletely won the heart of Tom.
Upon reaching particularly muddy
part of the road, Jim anxiously shouted,
Sc Whoa u and, with seductive smile,
whispered
eThat strap has broken, and you will
have TO get out"
We descended, only TO hear him utter
shrek that would havedone justice to the
ghosts of the departed NIodocs, and at
which the horses started off like mad,
only stopping when the farmhouse was
reached.
Tom looked down upon his faultless
bootsy and shuddered as he contem-
plated the two miles of mud before us.
Gould words have slain that angelic in
fant, James Thomas would have slept
with his fathers ere we reached the
house.
Arriving at the farm house we were
made happy by learning that little
James had reached there an hour be-
fore. and informed them that we pre-
ferred walking to riding.
Tom soon forgot his sorrows in the
contemplation of half dozen buxon
lassies among whom was the school
teacher whom the reference to the
thousands had cansed to visit the farm
house. looked in vain among the
group of damsels for my peculiar in
diction, Miss Chpker. who, with her
green alapaca, and auburn ringlets, was
always waiting to pounce upon me when
ever Thanksgiving and my visit to
Aunt Miranda,s occurred. At length,
when I was about to inquire whether
she had died, or had married some poor
innocent, the door opened and she at
once rushed MP to me with a hearty
welcome. Attempting to turn her upon
Tom, who was enjoying aconddentlal
ch Il with the es school InaFm.O met