Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1878-12-14
~ WISH I'D REMAINED AT
HOME"
a Thanksgiving story.

spend Thanksgiving!' said Mrs. |
Nettingley. Not if know it,
Mrs. Nettingley was close-fisted
and calculating matron' who lived
in a handsome house in a stylish
neighborhOod in New York, and
was one of those who, as her maids
of-all-wOTk expressed it, would
skin a flea to save the hide and
tallDw.' Mrs. Nettinglev liked to
make a show. but she had a deep
rooted aversion t.. spending money.
And entertaining company on
Thanksgiving day was one OF the
things that could not be accomplish
ed without the latter cOncomitant.
Mr.. Nettingley, a little, weak
minded man, who viewed his big
wife with respectful admiration,
looked obviously at her. But, my
DEAR said he, 'how are you going
to helpit? They've sent word they
are coming"
'I'll go to your sister Belinda's,
up in Saugatuck country
Mr.. Nettingley felt of his chin.
'They haven't invited us, said
ae-'that is. not especially
'Oh, fiddlestick = said Mrs. Net
tingley. "Belinda's always glad to
see me and the children. As for
staying at home to gorge Mrs. Bad
gerly and her six children, and Mr..
Badgerley's two sisters, L won't do
it Why, such a turkey as they
would expect would cost 50, at the
very least. Give me a timetable,
Nettingley. Send word to Mrs.
Badgerley that I've gone away to
spend THANKSGIVING
Mr.. Nettingley, who never dream
ed of opposing his Wife's will in this
or any other matter, wrote the let
ter accordingly, and put tin his coat
tail pocket, where it remained. For
ne forgot all about it. Mrs. Net
tingley packed up her own things
and the things of the four little
Nettingleys, and took the afternoon
train to Scrag Hollow, in Sauga-
tuck county.
Mamma, said Theodore Netting
| ley-the juvenile scions of the house
of Nettingley all had high-sounding
appellatiOns-'it looks all shut up
and lonely. don't believe any one
it at hOme.'
Pshawr said Mrs. Ncttingley,
| people in the country always live
| in the back Of the house,
And carrying Il heavy caTbet-bag
in her hand she trudged around to
| the rear door, followed by Theodo-
ra, Lavina, Evangeline and Ger
vase, each Juggling along smaller
bag
Nobody responded to her repeated
volley of knocks, but presently a
little old woman, who had come
from a neighbOring cottage to the
well for water, was made to under
stand what was wanted.
Mrs. Peckfield? p said the little
old woman, in a high-pitched, shrill
voice, which SO often accompanies
deafness. You're her cousin from
the city, come to spend thanksgiv-
| ing? Well, if that amt too bad
Mrs. Peckfeld started this very af-
ternoon for Ladd's depot; got some
relations as lives there
That's very strange said Mr..
Nettingley. i telegraphed to her
that | was coming
Couldn't got the telegraph, l
guess, said the little old woman.
But Mrs. Nettingley knew better
than that, for under the corner of
the pizza there lay torn envelope
of the Western Union Telegraph /!
And she knew that Mrs. Peckfeld
had fed from her, just as she, Mrs.
Nettingley had fed before the Bad
gerley family.
But I'll be even with her. said
Mrs. Nettingley, grinding her false
teeth. 'Pll go to Ladd's depot.
What are the names of her relations
| there?'
The little old woman, after some
meditation, said that it was Jones.
At least she thought it was Jones.
| She wasn't quite certain. 1t might
be Smith, or it might be Thompson.
! But she believed it was Jones, and
she believed they lived on Thorn
street.
1t was a long walk back to the
] railroad depot, and the four lite
! NettingleyS were tired and cross,
but they fortunately succeeded in
reaching it before the last north
ward train started. But it was an
express, and didn't stop at small
places like Ladd's depot, as Mrs.
/
she paid five dollars for a hack to
tage her back to Ladd's depot.
On inquiry, it was found that
there were abOu; dozen families of
the names of Jones at Ladd's depot.
! The first place to which they drove,
on Thorn street was a tenement
house, where they all had the scar
let fever.
ooh, myr said Mrs. Nottingley.
Drive on, quick. This isn't the
placer
The next was a clergyman's
house, where a full-fledged prayer
meeting was going briskly on.
This isn't the place, ether said
poor Mrs. Nettingley, waxing more
and more in despair.
And the third was vinegar-faced
old maid, who lived with her mar
ried sister and never had heard the
name of Peckfeld in her life.
What shall do p said Mrs. Net
tingley.
Better go to a hotel, ma'am,'
! said the hackman, who himself was
beginning to get out of patience.
But it costs so much, said Mrs.
] N6LlllSlGys ma tO-illOTTOW Is
Thanksgiving day Is there train
goes back tonight? p
'TO-night?' said the hackman.
why, it's past IL already! And
my horses has got the epizOotic, and
l couldn't keep 'em out no longer,
not for nobody. But / s'pOse |
could take you to the 1870 night
express, for little extra
| And this moderate specimen of
the tribe of hackmen consented to
be satisfied with eight dollars.
Ma whispered Gervase, where
are we going?'
Home said Mrs. Nettingley,
/ pronOuncing the word as if it were
a peanut shell she was cracking.
There was one comfort, though
the Badgerley family would have
been repulsed by that time; and,
after all, cold beef was a cheaper
way Of supplying the table than
turkey at thirty cents pound.
1t was or 2 O'Clock the next day
when she reached her own door,
having paid in hack and car fare
enough to buy half a dozen twenty
pound turkeys, and with jaded and
fretful children, a violent headache
on her own score, and one of the
traveIing-bags lost.
'pll stay at home after this said
Nnftippr1nvv fA