Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1880-11-17
from the st. Louis Globe-Democrat.l
MISS CHERRY'S THANKSGIVING.
BY OLIVE HARPER,

BY OLIVE HARPER,
Miss Cherry was an old maid. That
is, she was called that by all the verv
young girls that went to all the church
festivals, singing schools, mite societies,
and Sunday school picnics and other very
mild amrsements and designations in
vogue in the little mountain town ut the
head of the Wyoming valley. Miss
Cherry was nearly thirty years old, and
she was not married; therefore, those
young girls who were just donning their
first long dresses were not far out of the
way, but still if you judged only by
Miss Cherry's face you would not have
called her old. You might have paused
to look second time in the still girlish
face, and try to read the meaning in the
deep eyes and the slight droop in the
corners of the pretty mouth, but you
would surely not have called her old.
Miss Cherry lived alone in a little
white cottage, where her mother had
gone happy bride, and where she had
been born aud grew up the sole darling
of her parents, and where that fair young
mother had died, leaving Miss Cherry
alone with her father, who too went the
long journey to the echoless shore when
she was but fifteen years old. The poor
forlorn child lived on alone there, and
could not bear to leave the little home
that was endeared to her by so many
sweet though sad associations.
She was staid and sedate girl for her
age, the neighbors said, and they were
all willing to give her spinning to do,
and so, day after day, the hum of the
wheel could be heard as she toiled to
earn her daily bread.
There was a little plot of ground be.
fore the house down to the white palines
Of the fence, and this was filed with
bright flowers that she planted and tend
ed with love and pleasure for their sweet
companionship. They were Just COM
mon plants--marigolds, sweet williams.
Glove pinks and bachelors buttons most
~, but she had few choice rose bushes,
among them one was white, all but
faint blush in the center.
Miss Cherry had an unsupported, un-
formed vein of poetry in her nature. and
she somehow felt that this tender flower
was like her own undeveloped heart.
One day she went up into the little
garrett to get some heecy lambs wool
that had been whitening in the east win
dow, and her eyes CHANGED to fall upon
box that had stood in corner ever since
she could recolect, but which she had
never opened. She wondered why she
had never before thought to look in it,
and she lifted the lid to find it full of old
books. It proved Pandora's box to
her, for it brought all of the evils into
her life leaving only hope.
She sat down on the floor, and with
hands and lap full, never stirred until it
grew too dark tosee. Then she gathered
all she could gather and took them down
to the little sitting-room, and from that
day on there were no lonely hours for
her, for she peopled them all with heroes
and heroines from out the old romances
and poems. She lived not in the pres
ent, but the past. They were all there,
the brave and the fair, and she was one
Of them and longed for her prince beauti-
full, who was to come and take her by
the hand and choose her from all the
world for his bride. Her wool and fax
seemed now but the means of weaving
the warp and wool of her life, and the
flaments, as she spun them. were the
invisible chains that should draw him to
her, - -. =, :: -:
Summers heat and winters SHOWS
passed all unheeded by her, for she did
not live where climate is felt, for she
lived in dream, where all was gold and
silver and light and beauty. She was
transformed into sort of celestial exist
ence, and she could not even comprehend
the prosaic duties which she mechan.
ically performed. She spun and worked
in her garden; she cooked, ate and SLEPT
as she had done before; she went tt
church on Sundays, and she sent for he,
work and carried it home, yet was not il
this world nor of it, and her sweet darl
eyes were oftenest turned toward tn,
dusty road that came from the grea
world unknown, and ended in this it'll
town. This particular day that nov
mention Miss Cherry was "Meta," tn
heroine of wonderful fairy tale in verse
and her spinning to her was the magi
carpet that she was weaving, and which
as fast as woven, went wandering off til
it came to the feet of the fairy prince
who would forthwith turn and glide owe
it till he came to the fair girl who ga
weaving alone in her bower.
And fairer girl never sat and wove he
wool than this same quaint little maiden
with her golden hair that waved from
the very parting in shining crinkles ik'
the curled maple, and her round, whit
arms and pretty pink fingers; her 1.-the
girish grace of form, her smooth, can
: did forehead, aud those deep, dark eyes
with heavy shading lashes, and the sweet
tremulous mouth and the rose-pinl
cheeks with, their dainty dimples. An
80 thought % man who sat upon q tire,
horse at her gate, and looked at th
pretty picture framed inthe green of tn
honeysuckle vine that, entvined Wit
eweetbrier roses, grew luxuriantly owe
the little porch where she at spinning
She did not see him ct first, but ate
while she raised her eyes and met his
and forthwith in her simple little hea,
knew him for her unknown prince 70
whose coming she had waited two lon
years, and she rose. to greet him. - :.
The "prince," whose arrival had nc
even startled the pretty dreamer, was,
very prosaic, one, being, only known q
the s"prince of good fellows" sby hi
friends IN New York. But It wac all ia
same to. her. he. had come. and o
horseback; he was 80 different from th