Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1878-11-29
A ROUGH DIAMOND
Or, Farmer Jones, Thanksgiving.

Or, Farmer jones' Thanksgiving.
The cold northern blasts had settled
themselves down into legitimate winter
business, bridging streams and locking
up nature in fetters of ice. Everywhere
through the broad and fertile land huge
graneries were stored with the golden
harvest, cellars actually groaned with
their rich stores of fruit and vegetables,
and the thrifty and industrious inhab.
itants were about to celebrate their an
nual thanksgiving to the great and
bountiful Giver of such plenty, pros
perity and dpeace.
But nowhere did greater bounty pre-
vail than in the homestead of farmer
Joel Jones. His broad acres lay but a
mile from the thrifty village of Center
vile, where he found an easy market
for all his produce, and where every
Sabbath his round and ruddy face
might be seen alongside of the thin and
sallow one of his spinster sister Betsy,
in the old family carry-all on their way
to the village church, which ever found
a willing heart and ready hand in the
unsentimental Joel Jones, as its thrifty
aspect fully attested.
A few days previous to the one ap-
pointed as Thanksgiving he came into
his ample kitchen with huge golden
pumpkin in his strong arms.
Here, Betsy" he said, sis one of
the real Yankee pumpkins, and want
We to spread yerself a maxim batch of
pies. And jest say when We want that
air turkey killed"
"What fur, I'd like to know, Joel ?
You talk as ef yer war 'goin' ter feed a
regiment, when thar is only you and
me and the hirr d man to eat the best
Thanksgiving dinner ever invented"
81 know as we'll as ye, Betsy, we
hain't got no folks to speak of, but that
amt no sign we hain't ter eat like other
Christians on Thanksgiving day,
'specerly when I've worked the hull
year like everything, and been pros
pered beyond my desarts."
An hour later~he looked in upon Bet
sy and her sullen preparation for the
coming feast
I'm goin' ter town with er load of
oats, and I'll bring you some cranber-
ries to go erlong with yer turkey, Bet
sy," said he, " an if yer want anythin'
else speak quick, fer I'm off,"
The answer of the spinster was a
grunt of dissatisfaction as she continued
kneading the snowy bread, while pump
kin stewed and sputtered on the stove
in the most savage manner.
Betsy grows groutier every day of
her life, poor thing. She's gittin' old,
and the work is tew heavy for her. But
it hain't no use of speakin' of gettin'
help. She'd fight me down on that
forever" soliloquized the old man as
he drove along. "Hey, bub, want ter
ride" he called out to a small speci-
men of humanity. who was trudging
along under heavy load, and who
most gladly accepted the kind offer.
" Yer Widow Burton's boy, hain't ye?'
he asked in continuation, after the bov
had scrambled up behind, and perched
himself upon a bag of grain.
Eyes, sir"
What ye got in yer sack, bubP"
Coal, sir, that have been picking
up along the track"
" Dangerous piece O. business, and
it's strange yer ma should send yer out
on sich er errand. Their cars will come
erlong some day and chop yer into
mince-meat.n
The poor, little, pale-faced lad made
no reply. He was too happy in the en-
loyment of the unexpected ride to care
for any anticipated danger. At the
door of his humble home the farmer
stopped, and, to the surprise of the lad,
got down from the wagon and hitohed
his horses.
" want to see yer ma. So I'll Jest
run in fer mint, if yen mind the
team.n
One of the children answered the
summons, and conducted him into the
little kitchen, where the widow sat sew.
ing with her brood of little ones about
the scanty fire.
Don't get up, Miss Burton. can't
stop but mint. l give yer boy lift
as l come along, and he told me he
goes over on the railroad to pick up
coal, and | thought, maybe, We didn't
know IT was dangerous. Their lad is
tu small for sich work, and some day
nell git killed. So l hope We won't
take it amiss that / named it ter YOU"
Tears were in the good woman's eyes
long before he had ceased speaking, and
she answered:
You are very kind, sir, but what
can doP 1t is hard for me to keen
my little family together simply with
my needle, and the coal the children
gather from the track keeps one com
Portable, and leaves my scanty earnings
for other needs"
Yer girls hain't any on 'em old
enutf ter work out, be they, Miss Bar
tonP If so, I'd take one 'em ter help
sister Betsy. That would be one
less mouth to feed, at any rate, and
the'd fare we'll"
clancy is twelve years old, and has
been brought up to be useful, can
wash dishes, sweep and do a great
deal of ordinary work of household"
- All right, Miss Burton. Have the
girl ready when come along back
from town, and I'll take her home with
me-"
Again in his wagon. farmer Jones
communed with himself.
"Don't seem to be much of a show
for Thanksgivin' dinner at Miss Bur
tons. Poor thingl It's agin natur
that such a pretty girl as she used 70 be
should have married that shiftless.
drunken rake, Jim Burton, only TO be
left with lot of young ones ter slave
for"