The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1878-12-21

where SIX OF UnelH were W TAKE G16 CdIS
for the East to spend Thanksgiving,
while the father retraced his wearisome
way to the lonely log cabin on the for
est prairie.
1t was rather dowdy and old-fash-
toned company, as might have been
expected, so far as clothes were con-
cerned, but attractive in their rosy,
healthy, buoyant good-nature. They
were all as happy as happy could be
from twelve-years-old Johnny to baby
Hat-for were they not journeying to
the wonderful homestead where man.
ma lived when she was little girl?
and where the scenes of all mamma S
stories were laid" mammals splendid
stories, which were better than any
fairy stories, or any stories printed in
books or papers.
On, on they whirled, and it was
Wednesday afternoon; yet these chill
dren, who had never in their lives been
five miles from their own clearing, were
not cross, or sour, or out of patience,
although they were dreadfully tired,
and oh, so hungry, for the sizeable
lunch basket, well filled when they
started from home, had quite given out,
and the reinforcements bought in haste
at wayside restaurants not very filing.
"Only fifty miles from grandpa s
now," and the plump little woman
marshalled her brood about her as they
made the last change Of cars. ''Only
two hours Of precious time" But, alas
for human calculations, there was a
connection to be made at an out-of-the-
way junction on the line. The eastern
train was late. Trains always are late
the night before Thanksgiving, there
are so many happy souls going home
"Ihese trains are mail trains, they must
meet, and our train must watt
"'Iwill make pretty late supper
time" said Charlie.
81 should think it was supper time
now" cried Mary, poking around in
the bottom of the empty hamper.
81 suppose there is some place near
by where [ can get lunch for the chill
dren, said the pleasant mamma to at
fable Conductor Carroll, who came
through the car Just then.
"Im sorry to tell you, madam, that
the restaurant has been discontinued,
and the hotel burned down a week ago
or so. You can see the ruins Just over
the brook there"
A glance at the ashes and embers of
what was once hotel was not very sat
isfying to five hungry juveniles, and
mamma, for the first time since she
babe her husband good by, with almost
a cloud on her brow said:
" We will play we have got to grand
pas, and see how nearly our real get
ting there will be like our play. will
begin-now-'W What would / like for
supper, Sister Harriet? O, a cup of
tea for me, and plenty of milk and
bread for the Children wall, | de-
clar' fort, Sister Susan, guess these
children won't eat bread and milk at
grandpa's, Thanksgivin', after travel
in three mortal days and nights"
And the plump little mamma changed
her voice in the last clause in droll
nasal imitation of her sister, which
made the children laugh.
"What would you like my dears?"
g L can smell all sorts of goodies
said Mary, smiling until her little pert
nose grew red, ''and should like pump
kin pie, if its agreeable"
"Chicken for me-" put in Johnny
promptly.
"Mince pie" said quiet Jane.
" Putting cake, cookies, apples, nuts,
popcorn balls, roast beef, roast pork,
spare ribs, quail, ham, ducks; most any
thing you have in the house." cried
Charley uproarously-while they all
laughed and little Hat shouted: GOO,
GOO" and made 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
merry little group.
Meanwhile Aunt Harriet, in the
great old ark of farmhouse by her.
self, talked to the dog and the cat.
She had loaded the hired man off home
to his fathers with big basket packed
full of Thanksgiven' ixins'. "ril see,"
she said as she put in the last mince-
pie and loaf Of cake, eff | can't have
just as thankful a heart as could as
though the house was full of goodies.
| mean to try it for once, and eat pud-
den and milk, as | have so often
wished could, and see if | don't en-
joy it just as we'll"
So she sifted Il great quantity of corn
meal of the kind that Southern people
call hominy and New England folks
call samp, and putting on the big din
ner-pot, proceeded to make pudding.
1t required good deal of stirring and
skimming, and kept her pretty busy
for two or three hours. The meal
swelled and swelled until the kettle
was nearly full.
81 declar fort" said she to the cat,
81 don't know what possessed me to
make such lot of pudden'. But if |
don't want it all myself the hogs will;
'twon't be wasted, and fetching a
bowl of milk from the pantry, she sat
down in the splint-bottomed rocking
chair, set her felt-slippered feet on the
forepiece of the stove and proceeded
to eat her supper.
81 declar fort" said she to the dog,
who lay on the rug at her feet, al feel
exactly as if sumbudy was dead, or as
if ev'rybudy was dead, and | was left
on airth alone to keep tarvern. should
like a little bite of sunthin' to top off
with, but | wouldn't own it to anybudv
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 | think what day it is, and how