Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1879-11-27
Aunt BetseY's Thanksgiving.
CHAPTER 1.

CHAPTER 1.
1t was golden November day: the
day before Thanksgiving. Aunt Betsey
was busy as bee in her neat though
somewhat primitive kitchen, where
| most of the modern improvements -
were unknown; and the sun shone
broadly in at the shutterless window, on
whose open easement sat box of Jeru-
salem cherry, full of red berries and
glossy leaves, making photograph of
the same on the spotless kitchen floor.
Out of a large pot that she had Just
lifted to the hearth from the blackened
crane in the yawning kitchen fireplace,
she had dished out generous supply of
golden pumpkin sauce.
Here, Margaret" she called to a
little apple-cheeked girl in the doorway.
"just step over with this dish of stewed
'punkin to poor Mrs. Linn, for it will
be sorry enough Thanksgiving to her
at the best, with her husband all out OF
his head with whiskey. Well, he is
good husband when he is sober; and
that is more than some women can say
whose husbands never touch a drop.
Tell her to send over this evening after
milking time for the milk and eggs to
make it up with too"
MAY l take Billy and Barbara each
one of your cookies, map" asked the lit
tie girl, her bright eyes dancing at the
thought of the kindly errand she was to
do, for already she had caught some
what of her mothers benevolent spirit,
and her young heart often felt how
much better it is to give than to receive.
81 guess nG, daughter" answered
Aunt Betsey, refectively. "You know
poor old Lawson always smells them
baking when he is saving the wood, and
to carry home; and / did not feel able
to afford many this week, as we are to
have so many other things"
Yes. we will have quite feast, even
if the famine does follow. But oh, ma
you would think our dinner was lust
nothing at-all, if you only saw the nice
things Mrs. Carpenter is getting. Marcia
says they are to have two turkeys and
the greatest quantity of mince pies;
just think of that" And the bright eyes
danced more than ever.
"Ah, child! we must not let our
neighbours happiness dazzle our eyes
till we are blind to our own blessings.
If we cannot have turkey, roast beef is
very good indeed; and we can have all
the spunkin pies we want, for we have
a whole load of 'punkins under the
fodder, and bucket of bran-slop every
morning for old Rose keeps us in oceans
of milk; and you know, my dear,
Thanksgiving would be no Thanksgiv-
ing at all without them"
"That would be the play of Hamlet
with poor Mister Hamlet left out.
wouldn't it, map"
"Never do you mind about such
heathenish things, Margaret; but when
you feel like grumbling at our lot, think
of Mrs. Linn"
"Yes'm. / didn't mean we were not
to be thankful at all, only just little
mite less, you know, than the rich peo-
ple;" and the bright eyes ceased dancing
ust long enough to twist out little
leer at mothers hobby" as she and
her bro her Bob styled Aunt Betsey's
ccntentment.
Aunt Betsey was a widow who lived
in thriving Western town, and main
tanned herself and her children chiefly
by her own labor. She. was not above
any honest work either that came to her
hand. She was notable shirt-maker,
however, and in those days a shirt front
was a wonder of tueks and stitching,
and all done by hand, too. She had
but just completed half dozen for John
Unyet, the builder, to whom she still
owed a small sum on the cottage which
she b d earned by her own industry.
She had carried them home only the
day before, and somehow sad face she
saw there then had haunted her ever
since. 1t was the face of a young widow
Just from England, and this Thanksgiy-
ing eve, as Aunt Betsey made her pump
hin T,inc ifc non, ivor, occ no ,,,o I1n
fore her ike prayer.
II do wonder why cannot get rid Of
that lady's looks. | never exchanged
more than dozen words with her at
any time that / have met her there, and
yet it seems to me like / ought to go
right straight and sec after her-kind of
as though she was a-calling me. Iwon-
der what made her ask me so particular
where lived? And / believe she was
Just about saying something that she
didn't say when Mrs. Unyet came in, y
soliloquized she, beating her eggs with
unusual vigor, as the suspicion entered
her mind that perhaps that lady was not
as great q consolation as she might be
to the stranger within her gates
Law sakesl How you frightened
meW she exclaimed, as the veri.abie
object of her thoughts stepped upon the
threshold, with her two babes, a girl
and boy, clinging to her skirts. "But
come right in; why how stupid of me
t, leave you standing there for me to
stare at. There, let me take off your
bonnet" she went on, as she discovered
by the swollen eyelids OF her visitor that
she had been weeping. Then, never
seeming to notice anything unusual, she
hustled about, making her visitors COM
| Portable, getting her own childrens'
small chairs for the little one to sit in,
and waiting till the lady chose to un-
burden herself, as she knew she would /;
and while she is doing so, we will tell
| the same story. in snmawhat faHer and