Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-11-26
At Either End OF the wish Bone.

At Either End Of the wish Bone.
TALE or rwo rH.sKsorvwes.
It was Thanksgiving.eve. The dusk was
falling fast and something else besides the
dusk, namely, a fine, cold sleet, which coated
the sidewalks with slippery crust, and
smote the face Of each wayfarer with little
singing slaps, as who should say, Take
these winters compliments he is Just be-
hind, and sends his card on thus by me-"
Jenny Forde belonged only in part to this
destitute class She had Preside, so far
as stove with an open CRATE about eight
inches across deserves TO rank under that
coy name. "The Blue.bell of Scotland"
the stove called itself. Adopted into use
among our best Fifth Avenue families"
its advertisement stated, "and deservedly a
favorte in the very highest circles" Jenny
was proud of her stove. She was quite sure
that no one not an expert would suspect its
useful qualities, or detect the handy little
oven hidden away behind among the orna-
mental twirls and scrolls, or the place for
potatoes and pudding dishes beneath the
iron cage on top. Tonight she had popped
on an extra lump of coal in honor of the
season, and the little room fairly glowed
with warmth and that redolence of scorched
stoves all the world over. The shade was
pulled down over the window, the lamp set
tinlit upon the table, and Jenny, in her Con.
necticnt rockingham, was seated for the
unwonted luxury of an idle half hour. Later
she must sew. This lazy interval was her
holiday treat, the only one within her means,
poor girl There was no one to tempt to
the extravaganza of Thanksgiving feast
or TO share it, and TO spend time and money
in feasting herself alone was an idea which
would never have entered into her frugal
and modest mind.
As she sat, there came knock at the
door-a loud, important knock-and tall
form entered, impressive in capes and but
tons, whom Jenny recognized as the re-
spendent coachman Of Mrs. Meredith, a
gentle little widow, and one of her best
patrons.
"Person here named Forde-Miss Forde ?''
inquired the dazzling vision.
ayes; that is me-" said Jenny.
"Then here's for you. Compliments of
Mrs. Meredith and she hopes you'll have
pleasant Thanksgiving"
"Oh, thank you, sir; and please thank
Mrs. Meredith"
departed, leaving Jenny face to face with a
From under its cover an unmistakable drum
stick protruded.
al do wonder if it can be turkey"
thought Jenny, as she lifted the cover.
Sure enough, it was turkey, pillowed on
celery stalks and sweet potatoes, and mount
ing guard, so TO speak, over mould of jel-
lied cranberry. And what besides A
golden brown circlet, with edge of flaky
white. Who can mistake pumpkin pie
Oh, kind Mrs. Meredith
The room seemed to have suddenly grown
brighter and warmer, as Jenny, after putting
away these treasures, returned to her chair
aud the fire. How pleasant it is to be re-
membered What a happy little woman
yes, for all that had come and gone-what a
happy little woman she was So deep were
her pleasant thoughts that she scarcely
| heard the second knock which fell on the
door-a low, timid one, as from the hand of
a child.
'"Come in" she said dreamily. The door
opened little way, a cold wind swept in
from the staircase, but no one entered.
"Well, why don't you come in p she
called out No one answering she jumped
| up and went to the door.
A little thinly dressed girl stood in the
hall. She was strangling sob in her apron,
and at the sight of Jenny seemed half in
clined to run away.
"Oh, please, Miss Forde," she faltered,
'would you lend mother lump of coal
She's got one of her bad headaches--and the
fires went out--and it's so cold-and Alice
aud me don't know what to do" Another
| sob rounded the sentence like period.
Hard-hearted as it sounds, Jenny's first
impulse was to refuse. She did not know
these neighbors of hers, and, "Once begin,
you never know when it will STOP" crossed
her mind. Another look at the sweet wan
face of the child changed her determination.
"Yes," she said "come in, and I'll lend
you a bit. Have you brought something to
carry it in ?"
"Oh, please, I'll take it in my hand"
Such mite of hand
"That won't do at ALL" cried Jenny.
My coal is all fine there are no large
pieces. Here, I'll take my scuttle and throw
some on your fire. You're Mrs. Denis girl,
think p
"Yes m"
So down stairs they went, and the little
guide opened the door of bare room, and
revealed Mrs Denis lying on the bed under
huddled heap of clothes, and still smaller
child sitting, with tear-glazed cheeks, beside
the almost extinguished fire. The room
felt alarmingly chill, and when Jenny spoke
there was no reply, and the figure on the bed
looked so white and motionless that her
heart gave loud thump for fear.
Hastily mending the fire, she ran up stairs,
filed saucepan with hot water from her
own kettle, and hurrying back, began to
battle the head of the sick woman. To her
her eyes, and feebly muttered, "Oh, that
feels good"
"I'm glad it does. Here, I'll dip the cloth
in the hot water again for you"
ais it you, Miss Forde It's mighty kind
you are"
"Oh, it's nothing" in business-like way
Don't talk. Keep quite still, and your
head II be better soon."
at begins to be better already" whis
pered Mrs. Denis, after few minutes still.
ness. "My headaches always go off quick
at the end. But you are standing all this
while. Nanny, bring a chair, Nanny"
at don't hurt me bit to stand" de-
clared Jenny I'm used to it. Sometimes
when I'm cutting out work, | keep on my
feet for half day at time, and never
mind it," .9fi
"Ah, it must be good to have plenty Of
work |" sighed Mrs. Denis. "I've seen the
people going upstairs with their bundles
and I'd have envied you, perhaps, only II
was something to be glad for that there was
some one had all she could do, even if
hadn't" .-r ,
, The patient sweetness of this speech
touched Jenny. She could not speak quite
steadily as she asked, Have you no work
at all p
"Next TO none. | did a petticoat fol-
Mrs. Mallory-that's in the basement, yor
, know-and tried some of those slop over
alls from Riggs. But it's hard man he is
and only fourteen cents pair and what,
that for days work ? "a take anything
though, almost, that could get, for | wan
it sore for the children's sake" 1
snow you must not talk-you reall,
mustn't" said Jenny, alarmed at the ausl
which had risen in the pale cheeks I'D
try and go to sleep. III look to the chill
dren's supper. Don't worry yourself abou
anything, and tomorrow, when you're bet
. ter, we'll talk about work, and see what cal
be done" h 'n
All her warm little heart was alive now.
"What selfish thing sml" she med
/. itated, when, after making the childre
comfortable for the night, she went back +
a her own fire and work, I" almost refuse