The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1881-11-26


| dinner allfalonepn ~ ,s.r.. --t.i
The young fellows (for he was hard
| " more than q boy) face frightened
Il wasn't expecting no invite, with u.
deprecating glance at his clothes, land
amt fixed up none, but seeing you've
asked me don't care if l do. Thanks
| givin' away from home is rather lone
some" i3i' n'lHW so ~
So Mrs. Comfort Nicols drew for
ward the best rocker, with its star
] patchwork cushion, by the window,
where doomed the crysanthemums,
and by which stood the little dimitv-
covered stand with the worn Bible and
Saints Everlasting Rest and where
was spread Il strip Of home made carpet.
the whole constituting the ,"parlor''
portion of the little room. AVID Joel
Peaters swayed himself in the rocking
chair and felt the warmth of the blaze
shining in the polished stove, the gen.
tie singing of the teakettle, the peace
full order and the spicery breath of the
flowers over all, and though without a
single aesthetic taste, pronounced it a
decided improvement over the dingy
chamber at his boarding place, or even
the barroom of the village tavern he
had been seeking by way of change
Presently, with dim idea of making
some returns for the accepted hospital
ity, he plunged his hands deep in. his
trowser's pocket and brought out huge
handful Of butternut meats, with a
''Have some, Mrs NicholsP Shacks so
plenty in the Morris woods. where
we're chopin, that I've picked up
| quite a lot goin' and comm.
Dear! dear" said the little widow,
taking the gift in the spirit in which it
was offered, 81 don't know when Eve
seen any butternuts before; how they
make me think of the time when Con-
tent and | were children at home.
Father always used to crack walnuts
and butternuts for us Thanksgiving
Day to eat with apples and cider in the
evening. Why, it seems | can see that
old kitchen now, with the great fire
place and the turkey roasting in the
Dutch oven before the fire, and Con-
tent dancing around with her curls
afying Content and / were twins and
looked SO near alike people couldn't tell
us apart, and even our own folks used
to sometimes make mistakes), and faith
er cracking nuts on the wide stone
hearth, and mother stepping around so
soft and quick. Why, it all seems like
yesterday, and father and mother have
been dead fifty years come next spring"
want to known said Joe, with
open-mouthed interest; "that's quite a
spell" j .r .v,afgt- - s..
Eyes, it is a long time If Content
was living she would be an old woman
like me, though l can hardly realize it. F"
''ls she dead, too?" @a'FFn p.
eyes, l suppose so, though i never
knew for certain. You see the fever
was bad that year, and father and moth
er they both took it and died within a
month of each other. Father had never
been very forehanded and the place was
mortgaged, and when the debts were
all paid there wasn't anything to speak
of left for us children. He died last,
and his brother and one of mothers
brothers came ON and settled things up.
They each had families and felt that they
couldn't take both of us, so Content
went with Uncle Henry to York State
and Uncle Luke took me home with
him to Vermont. They meant well
and did the best they could, but
it did seem cruel that we should
have had to be separated, when we'd
always played together and slept to-
gether, and hardly been apart an hour
in our whole lives, and when our folks
came to be sick and die, and the house
seemed SO strange and dreadful with
the nurses and watchers and the funer-
ais, Content and | had chung to each
other closer than ever. To be separa-
ted then, when we were frightened and
half broken Searted, and taken hun
dreds of miles apart among strangers,
it did seem that it would kill me. For
years l cried myself to sleep for Con-
tent, and | wake. up nights dreaming
about her yet; indeed, l don't suppose
there's been day in all these years
chat haven't thought ofher.'l lda -a
''And didn't you ever see her againpn
asked her auditor, forgetting to rock in
his interest.
Never again. You see, Uncle Hen
ry and Uncle Luke were no kin
to each other; they were both dreadful
busy men, and postage was high and
mails uncertain in those DAYS; and so,
though they did write few times, it
wasn't often, and before we were old
enough to write ourselves, Uncle Hen
ry had moved away and we lost ira ok Of
him; and then Uncle Luke moved to
York State, and from there to Pennsyl-
vania, so suppose they lost track of
us. But I've got curl of Contents
hair she sent me-" And wiping her
spectacles on her blue and white check
apron, she took from drawer a little
red box, and carefully untying it took
from out its folds of tissue paper the
treasured ring of silken yellow, hair.
II named my little girl Content for
herr she continued, smoothing it soft
ly, 'and 1 used to think she looked like
her, though most folks said she favored
her father. She was nine, just the age
we were separated when she died. and
it seemed as though l was losing child
and sister both. 1t sometimes seems
that there is more shadow than sunshine
in this world (retying the little red box
with trembling hand), but the Lord
knows best, and perhaps we need it to
wean us from it. Only if could have
known something certain about Con-
tent it would have been comfort; but
never to know whether she was dead or
not seemed dreadful, and ! never could
feel but what she was alive, and used