The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1878-01-25
BREAKING THE NEWS.
BY SHERWOOD BONNER.

getting ready for party.
To be sure, it was in war times, anC
our larder was nearly empty. Besides
father was away, and the raid from the
enemy might interrupt the festivities
but for all that, we were determined OF
merry Christmas.
Some of "thc boys" were home from
Virginia on furlough, and the dashine
guerilla captain who lowered around
Holywell with his intrepid "frce Ian.
ces," had promised to come, escorted
by half-a-dozen of his handsomest pri.
Yates.
In case they failed us, our small
brothers were always at hand, and very
serviceable we had already learned to
make them as knights and esquires. In
the pantry "gran' nanny" was busy
preparing such delicacies as the times
allowed, with mother and Aunt Sarah
to assist her.
Aunt Sarah Edmandson was an old
lady of sixty, whose home had been
burned the first year of the war, and
who was living with us until the dawn
of brighter days. Her two SONS were
in the army.
OF these sons, one, Herbert, was a
dissipated young fellow,-a constant
grief to his mother and friends; but
the other, Allan, was the pride of her
heart. Noble, generous and true, it
was not strange that upon him her every
hope for the future should centre.
lie was in the Virginia army, and it
was only at rare intervals that Aunt
Sarah heard from him, as Hollywell
was almost entirely cut off from com
munication with the outside world. 1t
had now been more than two months
since letter-only q few lines, written
OH the eve of an engagemeDt-had been
received.
For long time past Aunt Sarah had
been so low spirited as to distress us
all; but to-day she seemed to have laid
aside her gloomy thoughts, and could
hear her merry laugh mingling with
the soft tones of my mothers voice, as
they contrasted the somewhat meagre
preparations for the coming entertain
ment with the magnificent ones of
olden times.
"Jes' to think" / heard gran'mammy
say, sat de housewarmin' when Miss
Mary was married, we was one solid
week a-bakin' an a-brewin', gittin'
ready for the company. Oar was poun
cakes. an fruit cakes, an silver cakes,
as big roun' as barrel tops, am pigs
an turkeys. an Chickens s,-lor, you
couldn't begin to count 'em!
can as for de syllabub, an custard,
an egg-nogg, why, dey was jes' as COM
mon as water. Dat was party wuth
talkin' about; but look a-here, now,
here's loaf o'cake with dried cherries
in it for raisins, an sliced apple for cit
ron,-hc, he, hew
could imagine how gran'mammy's
fat sides were shaking, as mother and
Aunt Sarah joined in her laugh.
can as for meats" she went on,
"hcre's only jes' two rabbits dat blessed
boy Sam caught in his traps, an one
tough ole turkey an boiled ham,"
Sakes alive! sich times, sich times"
In the sitting-room, Ruth, Sam and
were busy with Christmas decorations.
Huge masses of evergreen had been
brought in, and long wreaths hung in
graceful festoons from the walls. In
vases and baskets were the last flowers
that the frost had spared.
Chrysanthcmums, purple, yellow and
white, were mixed with sprays of hol-
lN, WnOSc Tcu DcIIlcS SlOWcu llhe DloOu
drops among the prickly leaves. There
were Christmas roses that had grown
in sunny corners, and violets--as many
as we could gather.
| had mounted high table between
the folding doors to hand n fancy bas-
ket, when, looking towards the gate,
saw Mr.. Pennett coming in.
Mr.. Pennett was our minister, tall,
grave man, very digniiied and learned,
but with faculty of winning love that
endeared him to all.
"Here comes Mr.. Pennett," | cried.
"Rm and open the door for him,
Ruth"
"Just look, Mr.. Pennett," said gay
ly, as he entered the room; 'isn't this
gorgeous? We are to have party to-
morrow night. Ny arm isn't quite
long enough to hang this basket. Can't
your reverence help meT
"Don't hang it now, my child" said
he, gravely.
Something in his voice startled me.
felt quick thrill of apprehension as
looked at him, standing by the crack
ling wood fire, his hands crossed behind
him, his head bowed on his breast.
The day had been warm and sunny;
but at this moment, through the open
window there came gust of sharp win
try wind, and the door between the
sitting and dining room closed with n
slam, shutting out the cheerful sound
of voices.
Then Mr.. Pennett spoke.
81 have very sad news for Mrs. Ed
mandson," said he. "Allan was killed
in battle nearly six weeks ago."
We were dumb with horror, stunned
by the awful calamity.
"Harry Oliver saw him fall" contin-
ued Mr.. Pennett ellis last words
were, Tell my mother died trying TO
do my duty"
AT this instant Aunt Sarah entered.
Her face was still radiant with smiles,
and she greeted Mr.. Pennett with un.
usual warmth.
The others crept out of the room. |
crouched down in the corner, chained
TO the spot by strange fascination.
They talked for a few moments on
Indifferent subjects, then,-
"Have you any news from the
frontr asked Aunt Sarah. 'It's been
over two months now since I've heard
from Allan. know he has written;
he was never one to neglect his mother.
All, Mr.. Pennett, if | could only tell
you tho JOY and comfort that boy ia to
me-"
If she only knew what was coming.
oh, how could she bear i'll | sat there
with clenched hands, sickening faint
ness creeping ovei me.
"My dear madam" said Mr.. Penmett,
in a low, unsteady voice, "whatever
happens, he is in Gods hands-let us
not forget that-and He doeth all things
WELL"
The mothers quick ear caught the
solemn significance of the tono and
words, and she turned sharply upon
the speaker.
"Mr. Pennett, why do you answer
me in that way?-you who have always
been so cheerful and full of hope? Have
yon heard anything of my boy"
"There has been battle" was the
slow reply; and then the gond minister
l.rnl. .lnu-n o..l In