The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1879-12-19

'he put in the last mince pie and loaf
of cake, eff can't have just as thank
ful heart as if the house was fall of |
goodies. mean to try it for once, and
eat puddin' and milk, as have often
wished / could, and see If don't enjoy
it just as WELL"
So she sifted great quantity Of corn
meal of the kind that eoatheru people
call hominy and New England folks
call samp. and putting on the big dirl-
ner pot, proceeded to make pudding.
It required q good deal Of stirring and
skimming and kept her pretty busy for
two or three hours. The meal sweIled
and swelled until the kettle was nearly
full
e declar for't," said she to the cat.
s. / don't know what possessed me to
make such lot of puddin'. But if I
dou't want it all myself, the hogs will ;
'twon't be wasted'-and, fetching q
bowl of milk from the panty she sat
down in the split-bottom rocking chair,
set her felt slippered feet on the fore
piece of the stove and proceeded TO eat
her supper.
I declar fort" said she to tho dog,
who lay on the rug at her feet, =" feel
exactly as if sumbudy was dead, or as
ii everybody was dead, and / was left
on airth alone to keep tavern. /
should like little bite of sunthin' to
top off with, but wouldn't own it to
anybudy that could talk hut you
won't tell no tales. Pm as ashamed as
a whipped dog, and feel as cheap as
dirt every time think what day it is.
and how we've been prospered in every
way through the year, and yet here /
be, no comp'ny in the house and none
likely to come, and nothin' cooked up,
aud no Thanksgivin' smell about the
house, and, worst OF all, father'n mother
sent off out from under their own ruff.
Harriet, YOU'RE sour selfish old maid
md Pm ashamed on ye. Take the
Bible and see if you can't find sunthin'
to get yer into better state o. mind" !"
So she strode into her s' mothers
room" after the family Bible, and be-
hold it was gone. They've taken it
with 'em to Johns and, all the Thanks
givin' along with It," She took look
at the made up bed, with its pieced-up
quilt, aud said again, " It seems az If
everybody was dead," and went out
aud shut the door behind her.
!" What if somebudy should come ?''
she soliloquized next, taking mp the cat,
:" but there won't. There amt nobody
to come, only what's invited to Johns,
excepting Sister Susan, poor, dear, prec-
ious child, away off there in the wilds !;
she'll never come home again, / pre-.
sumo )" and Harriet laid her hands on
her knees and thought Of the day Susan
was born, and of the day she was mar
ried, and cried little. and then drop
ped off INTO nap, from which she was
aroused by a subdued hustle near the
back door.
Getting up and lifting corner OF the
curtain she peeped out, and saw, by the
light of the tull moon, a wagon driving
out of the yard, q trunk--or basket
tallish boy, q shortish girl, two more
children coming up the walk, and
plump. shortish little woman, with
baby in her arms, just stepping upon
the doorstone.
Sc Susan,'' gasped Harriet, quickly
unbuttoning and opening the door, and
catching the surprised, rosy little wom-
an in her arms. They both cried a
little, but Harriet meanwhile pnt Susan
into the splint-bottomed chair, took off
her bonnet, and smoothed her hair.
Then she wiped her eyes, asked after
the absent husband, kissed the child.
rem, took off their things, making
mental calculation of how she should
get them all dressed before Sunday.
g knew I should find you np," said
Susan, looking around the familiar
kitchen. IS / remember how The bak-
ing used to drag the night before" and
she gave q little sniff. Smelling moth
ing suggestive of fancy cookery, she
said she believed she had managed to
take cold in some way. At this She
each in turn, shifted AMI look
ed curiously ct each other.
We won let anyone know tha.
You have come until morning." said
Harriet, in her decided way. g and
then we will have . general surprise at
breakfast =
s They are all well--father and