The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1878-11-14


The sun rose slowly over the great
city that Thanksgiving morning, and
saw it covered with a pure, white man
tie. Every sharp corner was rounded,
and every dark and unsightly object
heaped with the feathery flakes that fell
thickly during the night. The smoke
curling up from a thousand chimneys
was tinted with rose and purple by the
bright sunbeams, and altogether the
picture was beautiful one to look
upon, if one might see it through
plate-glass windows and from beside q
bright fire. But in the street it was
bitterly cold.
Little Terry sat up and rubbed his
eyes. He had been sleeping, and where
think you? In an old wagon filed with
straw, which had been pushed under
shed, and the straw had been his only
covering on that stormy night. But
Terry had slept in many worse place,
and would have been only too thankful
to be as luxuriously accommodated every
night. The clear tones of bell ringing
through the frosty air aroused him, and
he sat up, then nestled back into his bed
of straw for a few minutes to think.
And when Terry did think he thought
OF pleasant home, which had been his
four years ago-pleasant, if it was only
in one poorly-furnished room, for in that
room Terry and his mother had lived.
and Terry had known love and happi-
ness until he was years old Then his
mother died, and the little boy was left
alone. A sad story but one all too COM
mon among the little newsboys of any
Of our great cities.
" It's Thanksgivin' day." said Terry
to himself. g saw it in the paper YES
terday. Mother told me about it once,
and we had chicken for dinner [
don't remember what it's about, but it's
good time, an it's something about
God. [ am glad [ know about God.
Some O the other fellers don't That's
cause they never had no mother like
me, to tell 'em. Thanksgivin', yes, I
remember little of it now. It was
day to thank God in, mother said, an
we went to church. [ don't mean to
sell papers to-day; I've got so cents that
| earned yesterday. I'll have somethin'
good, an thank God, too. Guess I'll 90
to church, if [ don't look too bad" And
Terry sprung from his nest, and shook
himself out.
pretty ragged" he soliloquized, "but
maybe | can get in behind somebody
where they won't see me-" and he rubbed
his benumbed fingers and made his way
out to the street. AS he approached the
great church on the corner, man came
from the basement floor and hurried
away in the opposite direction, swinging
his arms to keep himself warm.
"He forgot to lock the door, said
Terry to himself.
let me go in and get warm the other day,
and [ guess he would again" So Terry
opened the door and went in. It was a
little dark room, but the big furnace was
throwing out great waves of heat, and
Terry rubbed his hands in delight.
After he was well warmed, he looked
around him. A door was in the corner.
Terry opened it. A dark flight of steps
appeared, and, boy-ike, he proceeded to
explore. He climbed to the top, opened
the door, and, to his amazement. found
himself in the body of the church. The
morning sun streamed brightly through
the stained-glass windows, and the Or
ganist was playing softly, practicing for
the morning service. The stiffness and
the summer warmth of the great place
emboldened Terry, and he stole along
over the soft carpet, up the broad mid
die aisle, seating himself, finally, in one
of the crimson velvet-cushioned news
Terry had special liking for this church.
for he thought he could remember com
ing here with his mother. Of this. how
ever, he was not quite sure. Soon the
soft music and the warm air made him
drowsy, and the black curly head dropped
lower and lower until it rested upon the
cushions, and Terry listened dreamily to
the music which still throbbed in low
waves through the church until he fell
fast asleep. The sun rose higher and
higher, the bells chimed, the organist
played louder and louder, but Terry did
not hear People began to enter the
church, but still he slept on. The mu-
sic swelled forth gloriously, and then
ceased, as the minister entered the pull
pit Still the pew where Terry Law was
unoccupied, save by the slumbering
child. The vast congregation bowed in
prayer, and the lady in the next pew
saw Terry lying on the cushions. Mrs
Gray was fashionable lady, and was
greatly shocked by the sight, but she
had on her new bonnet, and considera-
ton for her plumes would not allow her
to faint. So she only sank gracefully
back IN her seat, and took out her
vinaigrette of cut glass and gold. Then
it was that tall, graceful lady, followed
by tiny little girl wrapped in SNOWY
furs, walked slowly up the long aisle. and
entered the pew where Terry lay. He
started up in fright, just as the congre-
cation rose, and the choir and organ
burst into grand Thanksgiving an
them. Mrs. Evans and little Lille were
| of course not little surprised To Hn5