Stevens County tribune. (Morris, Minn.) 1877-1880, 1878-11-28

restaurant has been discontinued, and til
hotel burned down week ago or so. Yo'
can see the ruins just over the brool
| there"
A glance at the ashes and embers o
what was once hotel was not very salts
flying to five hungry Juveniles, and mann
ma, for the first time since she babe he
husband good-by, with almost cloud o,
her brow, said:
"Wo will play We have got to grand
pas, and see how nearly our real getiins
there will be like our pay. / will begir
-now-'What would l like for supper
Sister Harriet! Oh, cup Of tea for me
and plenty of milk and bread for the
children wall, l declar' fort, Sister
Susan. guess these children won't eat
! bread and milk at grandpas, Thanks
givin' after travelin' three mortal days
and nights"
And the plump little mamma chang d
her voice in the last clause in droll
nasal imitation of her sister, which made
the children laugh.
what wonld you like, my dearsS'
81 can smell all sorts of goodies" said
Mary, shifting until her little pert nose
grew red, "and should like pumpkin
pie, if its agreeable"
"Chicken for me, put in Johnny,
promptly.
"Mince pie, j" said quiet Jane.
Pudding, cake, cookies, apples, nuts,
popcorn balls, roast beet, roast pork,
spare ribs, quail, ham, ducks; most any
thing you have in the honse," cried
Charlie uproariously-while they all
laughed, and little Hat shouted, 1000,
goo" and made her little fat hands fly in
a patty cake, patty-cake, bakers man, !"
The three or four passengers in the far
end of the car looked up from their
books and papers and smiled at the mer-
ry little group.
Meanwhile Aunt Harriet, in the great
old ark of a farm-house by herself, talked
to the dog and the cat. She had loaded
the hired man off home to his father
with big basket packed full Of Thanks
givin' fixin's. Eli see" she said as she
ut in the last mince pie and loaf of cake
IF can't have just as thankful heart
as could if the house was full of good
les. mean to try it for once, and eat
pudden' and milk, as I have so often
wished could. and see if l don't enjoy
it just as we'll"
So she sifted great quantity of corn
meal OF the kind that southern people
call hominy and New England folks call
samp, and putting on the big dinner.pot,
proceeded to make pudding. Ii re-
| quired a good deal of stirring and skim
ming. and kept her pretty busy for two
or three hours. The meal swelled and
swelled until the kettle was nearly full.
~ declar fort" said she to the cat, 81
don't know what possessed me to make
such lot of puddin'. But if I don't
want it all myself the hogs will; 'twon't
be wasted" and, fetching bowl of milk
from the pantry, she sat down in the
Split-bottomed rocking chair, set her felt
slippered feet on the fore piece of the
stove and proceeded to eat her supper.
Il declar fort" said she to the dog,
who lay on the rug at her feet, Il feel ex-
| actly as if sumbudy was dead, or as if
! ev'rTbudy was dead, and I was left on
airth alone to keep tarvern. should
like q little bite of sunthin' to top off
with, but wouldn't own it to anybudY
that could talk; but you won't tell no
tales. I'm as ashamed as whipped dog
and feel as cheap as dirt every time 1
think what day it is, and how we've been
prospered in every way through The year,
and yet here be, no cump'ny in the
house and none likely to come, and nuth-
in cooked up, and no Thanksgivin' smell
about the house, and, worst of all,
father'n mother sent off cut from under
their own ruff. Harriet, you're a sour,
selfish, Grabbed old maid, nd I'm
ashamed on ye. Take the Bible and see if
vc can't find sumthin' to git We inter a
better state o. mind.
SO she str.de into ''mother's room"
after the family Bible, and behold it was
gone. They've taken it with 'em to
Johns, and all the Thanksgivin' feelin'
along with it." She took look at the
made up bed, with its pieced- up quilt. and
said again, ut seemo as if evrybudy was
dead" and went out and shut the door
softly behind her.
"What if sumbudy should come, she
soliloquized next, taking up the Cat, 'but
there won't. There amt nobody to
come, only what's invited to Johns, ex-
cepting Sister Susan, p>or dear, prec1-
Gus child, away off there in the wilds
she'll never come home again, presume, y
and Harriet laid her head on his knees
and thought of the day Susan was born,
and of the day she was married, and cried
little. and then dropped OFF into nap,
from which she was aroused by sub
dued hustle near the back door.
Gettin up and lifting corner If the
curtain she peeped out, and saw, by the
light of the tull moon, wagon driving
out of the yard, a trunk-or basket-a
tallish boy, a shortish girl. two more
children coming up the walk. and a
plump, little woman, with baby in her
arms, just stepping upon the doorstone.
Susan gasped Harriet, quickly IN
buttoaing and opening the door, and
catching the surprised, rosy little woman
in her arms. They both cried little
but Harriet meanwhile put Susan into
the splint- Dottomed chair, took of her
bonnet, and smoothed her hair. Then
she wiped her eyes, kissed the children
took off their Things, making mental
calculation Of how she should manage to
get them all dressed before Sunday.
II knew we should find you up" SAID
Susan, looking aroun the familiar kitch.
en-. 81 remember how the baking used
to drag the night before" and she gave &
little sniff. Smelling nothing suggestive
offancy cookery, she said che believed
she had managed to take little cold il
} some way. At this the children. each il
J turn. shifted and looked curiously al
Leach other. -vssssse sfse
We won't let anyone know that yot
have come until morning." said Harriet
Ia her decided way, "and then we viii
have general surprise at breakfast"