Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1879-11-27

The next was clergyman's house,
where full fledged prayer meeting was
going briskly on.
This isn't the place, either" said poor
Ms. Nettingley, waxing more and more IN
dispair.
And the third was a vinegar-faced old
maid, who lived with her married sister,
and never had heard the name Of Peck
field in her life.
"What shall dop" said Mrs. Netting.
ley.
"Better go to hotel ma am" said the
hackman, who himself was beginning to
get out of patience.
"But it costs so much" said Mrs. Net
tingley. "And tomorrow is Thanksgiy-
ing day: Is there train goes back to-
nightF"
"To-night?" said the hackman. "Why
it's past II already! And my horses have
got the epizootic, and couldn't keep EN-
out no longer, not for nobody. But |
s'pose could take you to the 1890 night
express, for little extra!"
| And this moderate specimen Of the
tribe of hackmen consented to be satisfied
with eight dollars.
"Ma!" whispered Gervase, where are
we going?"
Home" said Mrs. Nettingley, pro-
nouncing the word as if it were peanut
shell she was cracking. There was one
comfort, though-the Badgerley family
would have been repulsed by that time;
and, after all, cold beef was a cheaper
way ofsupplying the table than turkey at
thirty cents a pound.
| 1t was one or two o'clock the next day
when she reached her own door, having
paid in hack and car fare enough to buy
half dozen ten pound turkeys, and with
jaded and fretful children, violent head
ache on her own score, and one of her tray
cling bags lost!
III stay at home after this" says Mrs.
Nettingley to herself, "Ah! Parlor win
dow blinds open! People talking | do
believe Nettingley's got company to
Thanksgiving, after all "
And her heart sank down into the sOlns
of her boots. 1t was quite true; the SER
want maid, with red and furried face,
opened the door.
"Abby!" said Mrs. Nettlngley, "who's
hern?"
Lots of people, ma'am," :" said Abby,
looking guilty over her shoulder.
"Where are they?" demanded her mis-
tress.
"In the dining room, ma a'am."
And Abby threw open the door, thereby
disclosing a large table with three huge
turkeys well Drowned and savory, chicken
pie that was a small mountain itself, and
a glass reservoir Of cranberry sauce, that
set Mrs. Nettingley calculating at once as
to the probable amount of dollars sunk in
its crimson pillows; while, seated in hos
pitable array around the board, were Mr..
and Mrs. Badgerly, the two sisters and the
six children, Mr.. and Mrs. Smithers, and
seven little Smitherses and the six Leon
ards of Maine, second cousins of her hus-
band-twenty-six in all-including her
husband
Mrs. Nettingly and her children sat
down and ate their Thanksgiving dinner
with what appetite they might. But Net
tingley had rather hard time of it that
night.
my dear" said the sacrifcial lamb,
what was to do? They didn't get the
letter. They said they had Come to spend
Thanksgiving, and of course had to order
dinner. What else could | do?"
"Do?" repeated Mrs. Nettingley, in ac-
cents of bitterest scorn. Couldn't you
close all the blinds and lock the front
door and go down stairs and pretend not
to be at home? I've no patience with
youl"
Three days atterward the three youngest
Nettingleys broke out with scarlet fever.
The seven little Smitherses took it of them
the maid took 1t of the Smitherses, and
Mrs. Nettingley had her winters work
before her.
~ wish to goodness had remained at
home," thought Mrs. Nettingley.
And the amount of thanktulness she felt
that year was not oppressive, in spite OF
the Governors proclamation.