Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-11-23
A ROUGH DIAMOND.
Or, Farmer Jones' THANKSGIVING.

Or, Farmer Jones' Thanksgiving.
The cold mort hern blasts had settled
themselves down into legitimate winter
business, bridging streams and locking
up nature in letters of ice. Everywhere
through the broad and fertile land huge
granaries were stored with the golden
harvest, cellars actually groaned with
their rich stores of fruit and vegetables,
and the thrifty and industrious inhabi-
tants were about to! celebrate their annual
Thanksgiving to their great and bounti-
tul Giver of such plenty, prosperity and
peace.
But nowhere did greater bounty pre-
vail than in the homestead of farmer Joel
Jones. His broad acres lay but mile
from the thrifty village of Centerville,
where he found an easy market for all
his produce, and where every Sabbath
his round and rudy face might be seen
| alongside ofthe thin and sallow one of his
spinster sister Betsy, in the old
family arry-all ON their way to the vii
lag e church, which ever found a willing
heart and ready hand in the unsentimen-
tai Joel Jones, as its thrifty aspect fully
attested.
A few days previous to the one appoint
ed as Thanksgiving he came into his am
pie kitchen with a huge golden pump
kin in his strong arms.
"Here. Betsy" he said, sis one of the
real Yankee pumpkins, and want we to
spread yerself a maxim batch of pies.
And jest say when ye want that air tur-
key killed."
"What fur, I'd like to know Joel? You
talk as eff yer war goin' ter feed regi-
ment, when thar is only you and me and
the hired man to eat the best Thanksgiv-
ing dinner ever invented.'
II know as we'll as we, Betsy, we hahn It
got no folks to speak of, but that hahn It
no sign we hain't ter eat like other Chris
tians on Thanksgiving day, 'spercerly
when I've worked the hull year like ev-
erything, and been prospered beyond my
desarts."
An hour later he looked upon Betsy
and her sullen preparation for the coming
feast
"I'm goin' ter town with er load of
oats, and III bring you some cranberries
to go erlong with yer turkey, Betsy
said he, San if yer want anythin' else
speak quick, fer I'm off,"
The answer Of the spinster was grunt
of dissatisfaction as she continued knead-
ing her snowy bread, while the pumpkin
stewed and sputtered on the stove in the
most savage manner.
'Betsy grows groutier every day OF
her life, poor thing. She's gittin' OLD
and the work is tew heavy for her But
it hain't no use ofspeakin' Of gettin' help
She'd fight me down on that forever
soliloquized the old man as he drove
along. "Hey, bub, want ter rlde?" he
called out to small specimen Of human.
ity, who was trudging along under q
heavy load, and who most gladly accept.
ed the kind offer.
eyer Widow Burton's boy, hain't yea
he asked in continuation, after the boy
had scrambled up behind, and perched
himself upon a bag of grain.
| eyes, sir"
"What ye got in yer sack, bub?"
"Coal, sir, that I have been picking ur
along the track"
| dangerous piece O. business, and its
strange yer ma should send yer out or
1 SIGH er errand. Their cars will come er
long some day and chop yer into mince.
meat"
''The poor, little, pale-faced lad mad,
no reply. He was too happy in the en-
joyment of the unexpected ride to care TO-
any anticipated danger. At the door O
his humble home the farmer stopped
and, to the surprise of the lad, got dow1
from the wagon and hitchcd his horses
81 want ter SEQ yer ma. So I'll jes
run in fer mint, If yell mind the team.
Ono OF the children answered the sum
mons, and conducted him into the little
| kitchen, where the widow sat sewing will
her brood of little ones about the scant,
fire.
"Don't get up, Miss Burton. l can
stop but mint. I give yer boy lift a:
1 come along, and he told me he goe:
over On the railroad to pick up coal, anc
| thought, maybe, ye didn't know it was
dangerous. Their lad is tn small for sicf
work, and some day he'll git killed. ST.
[ hope ye won't take it amiss that
named it ter you"
Tears were in the good woman's ewes
long before he had ceased speaking, anc
| she answered.:
"You are very kind, sir, but what car
| do? 1t is hard for me to keep my little
family together simply with my needle
and the coal the children gather from the
track keeps one comfortable, and leaves
my scanty earnings for other needs.n
eyer girls hain't any on 'em old enuf
ter work out be they, Miss Burton? If So
ia take one OF 'em to help sister Betsy
That would be one less mouth to feed
at any rate, and she'd fare we'll"
clancy is twelve years old, and has
been brought up to be useful, can wash
dishes, sweep and do a great deal of or
binary work Of a household"
Cali right Miss Burton. Have the cir
ready when I come along back from
town, and I'll take her home with me-"
Again in his wagon, farmer Jones
comm uned with himself.
''Don't seem to be much of show fol-
d Thanksgivin' dinner at Miss Burton's
Poor thing It's agin natur that such a
pretty girl as she used to be should have
married that shiftless drunken rake, Jim
Burton, only to be left with a lot Of
| young ones ter slave for"
| All that day farmer Jones seemed in an
uncommon grave mood. The town peo-
pie missed certain heartiness in his
manner, and not once did his old boy
like laugh ring out to notify Centervilie
that Joel Jones was in town.
1t was almost dark when he reached
the widows cottage, and a furious snow
storm had commenced. But securing his