Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1879-11-28

kept strong and bright all that weary winter,
and how the babies grew. II anybody hint
ed that Joe was lost she resented II ike an
insult Grandma Jopp sent her letter OF
coincidence and pious quotations, mixed with
a great deal Of complacent Il told ye So and
with it an old Grape bonnet and veil Of her
own, laid aside as good as new, which sally
returned with the letter inside, 10y the very
next train after a burst Of angry tears but
with no answer or acknowledgement
Spring came. but no word from Joe II
Sallys heart sank she did not show i to the
public she fought her own battles in secret
for her babies sake, and rushed out from I'M
der the accumulating fears and doubts that
threatened to crush her to that safe fold OF
love her dnrlings inhabited, seeking rest and
strength from their rosy brave faces, their
clnging arms. their soft lips at her bosom,
their shining heads upon her breast, and new
or seeking in vain. They grew in the Keen
salt air and broad sunshine. with incredible
vigor, their great dark eyes were bright and
calm, their dimpled cheeks flushed with
health their voices sweet as the bird-voices
in the woods. and by the time their birthday
came they were able 10 run about the house
to stand at Sally's knee, to call the papa
they had never seen, TO mimic the dog the
cat. the chickens their growth and forward
ness we're the wonder Of all the beach, and
every man, woman and child loved Sally's ba
bies for by this time they all knew Joe was
dead. But Sally never gave IN.
when be you going 10 wean them great
children p demonstrated Aunt Lyddy.
when Joe comes homo" was the quiet
answer. Il want them TO be babies till he
gets here
"Oh, Sally :" whimpered Mrs. Lydia NOV
ed to tears.
Aunt Iyddy. stop Joe isn't-dead" the
word came out with an effort. Hes coming
back know he is. Its no use for you to
cry about it, I'm the one to cry if didn't
know better Babies, call papa and with
atiny. ringing shout the unconscious creatures
uttered the name they could not know.
There :" laughed Sally dehanty hell
come to hear that, Aunt Lyddy - and the
woman half believed her.
But the babies called in vain the summer
passed with no response. Autumn Knocked
the dying year again with idle splendors and
elusive msts of glory the frost nipped sharp
" all earth's tender things the north wind
sounded its awful trumpet and hurled wild de
fance at the surging sea light showers OF
snow drifted across the blue distance and
dropped their chill plumage on the earth, on
~ to fade in dews in that salt air. 1t was No
vember-it was Thanksgiving, and Sally, re-
turned from dinner at Uncle Samuel Hazards,
where the twins had been the pride and de-
light of the day, sat alone by the dying
kitchen fire for her girl had gone home to
her own people to celebrate the festival, and
the babies lay sound asleep up stairs il their
mothers bed. hugging the spoils of the day
jealous cousins lad heaped upon them rag
dollies. bright balls of worsted, knitted reins
to drive the rockinc-chairs by. all lay in their
arms or scattered about the white coverlet.
The beautiful curly heads, the dark-lashed
eyes, the red lips, the dimpled arms, were all
at rest, and Sally had left them at last to
think her own thoughts beside the embers.
Her weary hands were clasped about her
knees and with dropping head and eyes dim
with coming tears fixed on the Pickering
blaze, she sat there in the quaint old settle a
picture to make ones heart ache longing,
wearying, agonizing for the one presence that
could alone make the day real Thanksgiving
to her hungry heart, and praying with a GER
tain desperation for Joe's return. She heard
yet did not notice the swing Of the little gate,
the soft sand -muffled steps she should have
known A hand on the latch reused her
she started up to see the door open-to find
herself in Joe's arms
1t was long time before she asked one
question, had one thought but that Joe was
there and when at last she reused to make q
few inquiries, it proved to be the old story,
the sailor story that has broken so many
A6dItn Will Bl4tl VI JOgs AtAAlSo's snip
wreck, peril, rescue, and late restoration but
Sally was impatient of detail
Joe :" she cried, between tears and laugh
ing, looking very girl again, with quicl
bushes on her fair face, Joe, it is Thanks
giving Day, and you have had no feast come
up stairs aud put away these worn rags fol
your Sunday suit, and III get your supper.
Jest Ms II it wouldn't ha been lhanksglv
ing to me to-day ef twas July, Sally. But
am kinder sharp-set l allow. I've driv al
day to git here and had only jest bite to 1
tavern"
But Sally was halfway up the stairs, ant
Joe, wondering at her unusual particularit!
about his dress followed her to the bedside
of his babies
A long breath heaved his great chest h
looked at them then at Sally, and fell on hi
knees at the bedside and hid his face in tn
pillow without a word. 1t was the triumph
Of keen emotion over the reticent New Eng
land temperament but only the triumph of
moment he lifted his head and looked q
Sally, who stood crying and smiling like
rainbow, and a CLEAN Of humor lit his sus
picously shining eyes as he spoke.
"Taint fair to double things up on a fele
so, Sally One Thanksgivin' was all coult
steer; two on ems agin chart an compass
vow eff amt ship-wrecked aGin.'
But years after, when other children climb
ed to his arms or leaned against his knees
there was no story they liked TO hear or h
loved TO tell so well as the story of hi
'Donble Thanksgiving