Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-11-24
A THANKFUL THANKSGIVING.
PART I.
ON THE HILLS.

ON THE HILLS.
"But, Harry, you surely do not think
Harry took his mothers face between
his hands.
This is what l think, you most precious
Of all mothers. There is no game in the
woods there IS nothing, or next to moth
ing, to eat here in the house. Hector
knows the first as well as 1: and you the
rest; 80 we make very respectable ma
jority, you see."
Hector, hearing his name called, lifted
his huge self from the floor and can G
over to Join in the conversation. If YOU
will ada together all the best dogs you
ever saw or heard of, and tben multiply
by two, you have Hector to the life.
It was going to be an early winter,
even for Upper Highlands. The leaves
said so, as they tumbled and rustled
through the long gullies of the wood and
the wild geese said SO. too, as they focked
southwark in long, wavering lines, look,
ing like black, crooked arrows, high up
in the sky. But, surest of all, the child.
rem in the valley said so, as they bun
died off to school. trying to think of les
sons which, somehow or other, wouldn't
stay lessons, but would changeinto skates
and sleds before they knew it. Back on
the hills, where Harry and his mother
lived, winter was surely coming. The
bleak wind whistled about the little
house and roared down the large Chin
ney. The forest gave up plenty of
branches, which the trees generously
shook down, so that the fireplace was al
ways roaring with plenty of warmth and
tn spare. But food was scarce. The lit
tie farm had refused to do its share, and
the harvest had been small, indeed. In
the woods, too, where game had always
been so plenty, this year it had failed,
and the little household was sorely pressed.
''There is no help for it, my boy" said
his mother. You must go to the village
for assistance"
"Not to beg?'
mo, no. Not to beg answered his
mother, cheerfully. "But, see here"
Harry took in Lis hand the little white
box. In its soft nest Of pick lay pair
Of tiny diamond earrings. The setting
of gold was old and dingy, but the stones
sparkled brilliantly as ever.
II bought those, Harry, when quite a
young girl, and wonder I've never
thought Of them before"
"And you shall not think of them
now, darling. Why will you not let me
60 to the village and get work2 Hector
shall stay with you, and every night I
will come back"
'No, Harry, no. You couldn't come
back over the hills at night, and
couldn't have you away. There must
surely be game in the forest,my boy; and
in the meantime we will bridge over the
little Improbable season with supplies
from tie village below Why, all the
associations of these earrings have been
fearful. l cried before got them, and
cried afterward to think how foolish I
had BEEN"
They sat and talked far into the night.
With bedtime came the bringing in of
wood for the mornings fire, and the rath-
er unnecessary precaution of locking the
roush-hewn doors.
whats the matter, Hectorl Want to
have little racing before turning in for
the night?'
The dog was standing with his fore
paws upon the latch, snuffing at the crack.
Harry opened the door. Whew! They
had been so busy talking that they hadn't
noticed the rising wind nor suspected the
snow, that now whirled into the room.
Mother" said Harry, with his arm on
her shoulder-"Mother, the snow has
come"
"Yes."
That was all they sale. It wasn't a
question of snow-balling and coasting
with them. It meant bitter struggle
against pover.y-this coming of the snow
before its time. But, whatever the others
thought Of it, Hector was as Jolly as
scheolboy. A whistle brought him back
to the house. His shaggy coat was COW
cred.
Perhaps, Harry, its only another fur
~"
"Flurries don't take three days to gath
er, dear; and when they do come the
SNOW isn't like this.''
He rubbed his hand across Hector,s
back, and the fine, dry snow tloated out
as light as wool. Next morning the
storm was still raging. All day long it
showed, beating up against the low doors
and windows. Now the fence is uD to
its neck in the drifts, and now there is no
trace of the rails. Hour after hour the
biting wind whlstled around the cottage.
Inch by inch the snow crept up its side
high above the record of any former year
and the .ong afternoon wore on.
Mother, I'm going to the valley.''
mot to night, Harry; not tonight.
Wait! See. we have plenty"
1t Was loving mothers "plenty."
Enough for one, and that one not herself.
For the first time since early morning