The Dickinson press., 1883-12-01
NV Wish-bone.

l had got the "wish-bOne"! 1t was
Thanksgiving Day at grandfather's old
place in New Hampshire, twenty-three
years ago last November, and [ a little
lad six years old. What a grand day
that was! Why, a vision of the double
table, with the great. well-browned tur-
key and the plum pudding, SO big it had
to be brought on in a milk-pan, came
back as freshly, more freshly, than the
duings of last week. What eyes we have
for good things when six years old! And
what appetites, too. for that matter!
No doubt grandfather had slyly slipped
the wish.bone into my plate; but I
thought my finding it a piece of the pur-
est good luck, and I was proud of it az a
caliph Of his %conquests.
NV faith in those days was strong in
wish-bones. picked that one clean.
and rs soon a dinner was over l want
ed to wish. First enc, then another of
my cousins-Hiranl. Frank, Emma
were challenged to take me side of the
bone, and wish with me. But they, old
er, all declined. tits too green," they
said: Hang it up over the fireplace till
next week"
But l had my "wish"-the thing l
most wanted-in my mind, and l was
not willing to be put off. So 1 still went
round the table, teasing and anoth-
err to wish with me, till [ was ready to
cry with vexation, while the others
laughed at me.
But my Aunt Theodora-how we'll |
remember my fair-faced, blue.eyed
her. 81 will wish with you, my Eddy"
she said.
We wished-then tugged and twisted
m much sde in near earnest u.a.'' I was the Fortunate nate
one, and l got the wish, that is, the
larger piece of the wish-bone. l had
wished for a sled, and l got it two days
after.
Aunt Theodore did not nthen tell me
her wish: but I still recollect seeing her
writing something with her pencil on a
slip of paper, and then she wrapped the
two broken bits of bone up in it.
Nineteen years passed: l was in
Brownville. Texas. It was the year 1877.
Of myself l may say that l had not pros
pered thus far in life, though l had been
engaged in various schemes for money
getting. My associates there were bad,
and 1 am sorry to say l was much like
them. Step by step l had gradually fall
len into debssing habits and had become
a companion of sharpers and adventur-
ers.
One day toward the last of November
that year. a letter came to my address.
1 had forgotten the handwriting. The
letter seemed to have something hard
and clumsy in it.
I felt it c%urjously with my fingers then
broke it open. Inside was a piece OF
white paper ,yellowed with age, wrapped
round two withered bits of bone. Pen
cilled on the paper were fthe long ago
written words:
~ wish that Eddy may grow up an
honest a and a true Christian gen.
tleman."
Beneath was written more recently,
This was my wish, Eddy,-the n
didn't tell you,-when we wished to-
gether years and years ago. May l still
hope that it will come true?"
A curious sensation of strange, long
forgotten things struggled within me at
sight of this relic of my younger, purer
years. Yes, there was the old wish-bone.
Again l saw the Thanksgiving table and
the circle of dear old home folks, amid
them the thoughtful face and kind blue
eyes of Aunt Theodore.
l will not say that l vas stricken with
strange or violent remorse. But some
how / was able, at that moment, to see
clearly what l was and what I ought to
be; and before 1 got up from my chair l
made a resolve.
Three days later I left Brownsville
and came home to New England. My
nrst step was then to choose a useful,
honest business; one in which l felt it
possible to live honorable before men.
And that I have done. 1 am now trying
t? live an industrious, upright. honora-
BILE life. That old wish-bone and my
aunt's gentle, prayerful interest and love
were the means, under God, of saving
me from a life of vice and shame.
Colonel Robert G. Ingersolls middle