Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1881-11-23

st don't believe we shall have bit of
fU.n," said Susie.
Why, amt she going to have pud-
ding ?" That was Harry all over.
ooh, spose there'll be a pudding,
cause Mr.. Smith he sent up some rails
ings this mornin'-I peeked into the
paper. But there isn't a single sign of
a evergreen trimmin' put up, nor flag,
nor anything. And mother she looks
SO sober, and she hain't laughed all day
long. Oh, | think it's real horrid. .
81 saw her cry, too. She sent me
after clean handkerchief"
"She did Well, s'pose it's ali about
VIII. You know he came home, last
Thanksgiving.
'Will alters laughed Thanksgivin',
Sue. My didn't he put it into the nuts
and raisings, and string up the wish
bones p
"Harry Why how you act! Wills
dead, you know"
81 can't hep it, said Harry, apollo
getically. q wish he wasn't dead.
Didn't he look funny in mothers bonnet
after dlnner?"
Il wish he wasn't dead, too, Harry;
but he is, you know. I tried to cry this
moEnin' when mother KEEP wiping her
eyes, but I didn't after all. [ wish she
wouldn't look SO hgrrid sober. You see
If we have a nice time-I know we
shan't. =
" Well, said Harry, after moment
consideration, "theres the turkey, any
how.
The sitting-room door closed then. and
little feet battered up stairs on their way
to bed.
The parlOr was cold and the twilight
hung and deepened in the room. Just
window aud the light Of a faint. rising
moon struck through them.
La one little spot the children had
dimmed away the silver tracery by their
warm breath but a few moments ago.
Through 1t, In the shadow of the church,
something stood out alone and still
something which had drawn me into this
lonely room, and fastened and held my
eyes on the cold, cruel window-some-
thing which no close-closed curtains or
warm bomelghts could ever shut out:
which the width of world could not
separate from me: whose shadow fell
across my very prayers, and darkened
the face of God-the grave.
This night it was so cold The frosts.
weaving and weaving their pattern on
the window, chilled 1t so. What did
hose children mean? How merriIy
they were romping into bed up stairs
l wished they would not to-night-to-
night
The frosts, weaving and weaving their
pattern on the window, weaved out OF
sight the church shadow and that within
it. Only the glitter of the silvered pic
ture was left, with the moon faint be-
hind it. L drew my shawl over nv
shoulders and went into the other room.
A bright fire was cracking on the
hearth; the curtains were drawn, red
and warm and cosy, behind the ivies:
my rocking chair was In its place, with
the cricket pushed up beside it-that
was Susy. She was always thoughtful
more like
| found Twas chilled through, and sat
down by the fire. Then / covered my
face with my hands.
God knows how I had dreaded this
day which was coming; how for months
L had shrank from it and pleaded with it
to pass me by; how had talked with it
Ill OF0dUlS anu Do0u WakGnoQ by my
tears, and prayed for strength to live it
through; how Ike phantom 1t had con-
fronted me, and haunted me, and logged
my steps, and the strength had not
come. And now it was upon me.
Our Thanksgiving had been no more.
L suppose, to us than to any one who
loves the day; the tender household
memories clustering around them no
sweeter and no dearer than thousands
and thousands; nor was my grief more
than any other mothers grief. But
what was that to me or mine? Our
loss was as IRE parable, my grief as soil
tary, as if the universe held no other.
For the heart knoweth its own bitter.
ness.
He loved these days sony boy; he
loved them so. For him and because of
him they have always been SO bright.
And it was only the last-only the last
one that he was with us. Just for few
days the short, happy furlough lasted