Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1880-11-27
For the INDEPENDENT.
A Thanksgiving.
A TRUE sTORY-BY b. SIM GUN
NINGHAM.

"Mama," asked my boy of me a
few evenings ago, coming up to my
chair, in the cleaning of the winter
evening, "must we thank God be-
cause the President says so ?"
Whereupon expressed mild horror
of his ignorance, and proceeded to
enlighten him in regard to the mean
ing of the Presidents proclamation.
Then as finale told him story,
which write out here for my little
Friends Of the INDEPENDENT, many
Of whom, am sure, find the "Poets'
Corner" Of the newspapers, too often
skipped by their elders.
Do you know Mt. Airy in Carroll
county, Md, on the line of the B.
and o. railroad 2 At the time of
my story it was called the 'Ridge,"
and was, for the most part, an un-
cleared tract of land. Where now
DR.. Bean has his college for youths
there was then the pretentious dwell-
ing of the district; and on a cold No
vember evening, like this, I imagine,
with sudden snow-squalls yelling the
mountains and the wind whistling
furiously, the mistress of the man
sion, a black-eyed, black-haired little
woman, was fitting from cupboard
to closet in the ample sitting-room,
fastening to prepare the table for
one Of Aunt Chloe's famous suppers,
which that worthy had designated
as "ready, MiSsis," some five min
utes before, very much hindered in
her efforts by two small urchins who
alternately logged her footsteps with
their demands for the aforesaid
'ssupper" in installments OF pre-
serves, etc. But it was completed at
last-the supper table-a picture,
with it's rose-pointed china and
snowy linen.
"Isn't it time for father to be
coming, mother a? asked another boy,
a full two inches taller than his
mother, from his outlook at the win
dow.
81 think ii. is-put on some fresh
logs, Rob.
Crackle went tie logs! splitter
flew a great shower Of sparks up the
wide chimney. The spindle-legged
mahogany tables in the corners Of
the room reflected the bank of fire on
the hearth. No need of candles to-
night The stripes of the Girthen
carpet looked warm and soft as vel
vet.
"Mother" joined her boy at the
window, looking out with smile
upon the figures of the two small
urchins with their mouths full of
cake, cutting all sorts of impossible
antics in the yard. Her heart was
very full of content. They had en-
joyed a prosperous year at the Ridge.
Her husband had found plenty of
time to spend over his beloved books
and there was enough money in the
family exchequer to put Rob at a
Baltimore school after Christmas.
"Missis, de biscuits are berry
brown" came from Chloe, at the
door.
"Missis" followed Chloe into the
kitchen.
Children, you would have been
non-plussed to have found the bis
cults. On either side Of the wide,
deep chimney, sat fiat black pots,
with covers-dutch-ovens our grand
mothers called them-from which as,
Chloe raised the lids, arose the de-
delicious aroma from rows of deli
cately Drowned creamy-edged biscuit
reposing therein; another oven con-
tanned chicken fried crispily, and
still another the yeast-made corn
loaf for which our grandmother IS
cooks were famous.
He mout o. meant to stay till
mornin' light" ventured Chloe,
when the clock told off an hour past
the midnight, and still the master
came not.
Tie boys listened for every sound
with bated breath, and the poor lit
tie mother stood with her brow
pressed to the cold window pane, her
heart filled with anxious, dim fore
bodings. Often and often had her
husband gone off into the woods
with his gun slung across his Shout
der, but never before had he failed
TO return at nightfall.
He did not come; days, weeks,