Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1884-12-11
A Thanksgiving Party.
BY LANTA WILSON SMITH.

line noor was as Wnlte as soap anu sanu
and willing hands could make it, and
was we'll matched by the angular wood
en- chairs, which had become almost
ghastly from repeated scruboings.
The brass knobs on the dresser, and
even the pendulum of the loud ticking
old clock shone like FURNISHED gold re.
fecting the beams of fire-light which
frightened the dusky room.
The tea-kettle sang merrily, and
Aunt Esther passed to and fro, pre-
pairing the evening meal, and watch
ing for the retarn of her husband from
the woodlot
A little girl stood by the western
window, trying to read by the fast-fad-
ing light. Her delicate face, long,
shining culrs and dainty apparel, form
ed bright contrast to the plain room.
What are you looking for in the al
manac, my child? You'll injure your
eyes,
I'm trying to find when Thanks
giving is; but ] can't see any longer.
You'll be more apt to find it in the
last. paper, Lucy; but | can iell you;
it is week from next Thursday
oh good! so soon? Well have one
of those big turkeys, and a jolly time,
won't weT
Pm afraid not, dear; what put that
into your little head?
why, auntie, you told me when /
first came that those turkeys were for
Thanksgiving. I've thought OF it ev'
er since
'Oh, yes. I did tell you, Lucy, but l
meant that we raise them to sell for
Thanksgiving. We have not kept the
day since we were first married; your
uncle doesn't care for such things.
I missed it sadly at first, for we always
kept the holidays when was girl at
home, but I've got used to it now, af-
ter all Ghese years.
Il don't think l could ventured the
child, looking solemn through the twi-
light at the turkeys, comfortably set
tied for the night on the bare limbs OF
the old appletree.
well, don't shed any tears yet
Lucy; if you get Uncle jerry to con
sent, I'll do my part. Better not speak
of it till after supper she added in a
whisper, as she heard her husband s
footsteps at the door.
So, with what patience she could
command, Lucy waited till the supper
was cleared away, and they we're gath
eret around the cracking wood fire,
Aunt Esther with her knitting and
Uncle Jerry with his paper.
Lucy was his only sisters child
She was spending several months with
him, while her parents travelled In the
South, hoping to benefit her mother s
health. Two brothers and one sister
were at college, and were to spend
their Christmas holidays at the farm
house. This was the first time Lucy had
oeen so long from home, and occasion
ally she suffered from inconsistencies;
and now, with the fear that the loved
holiday was to be slighted, an attack
OF that dread malady was certainly i'm
minent She felt her courage ebblng
away, and hopelessly sat very still,
looking straight into the fire, till all
the curling, writhing flames melted in
to one broad sheet of bright mistiness
and then-there were two big tears on
her rosy cheeks.
Uncle Jerry, who, underneath his
hard exterior, had really kind heart,
was watching her over his paper, and
saw the tears, the sly, quick brush of
two little white hands, and brave et-
fort to keep back a sob which was
struggling to escape. 'Homesick' he
thought; 'and no wonder, with two
dull old folks like u.s. and for a mo-
ment he wanted to take her in his
arms and sooth her as her own father
would; but he had SO long repressed
all tender ways, that he could not
manifest his sympathy. But some
thing must be done Rising abruptly,
he took pan from the dresser and
started for the cellar, saying: Esther,
hold the light for me: l want some
O. them fall apples; they won't keep
long"
By the time a share of the fruit had
disappeared, Lucy had regained her
good spirits, and, with new courage,
exclaimed: FUncle Jerry, can't we
have Thanksgiving this year? I'd like
to-
Nonsense, child. What would it
amount to?
why, we'd have jolly time. We
always did at home.
Yes; a big dinner one day and the
doctor the next.
'It never made me sick-never in
the world
EBut what's the good, anyhow
Mamma thinks it's good, and she's
always light. Just last year papa
thought we'd better not have dinner,
for mamma wasn't strong, and we were
SO disappointed-I was anyway-and
mamma put her arm round me and
said: 'We'll all help and do the best
we can, for we mustn't miss keeping a
holiday. When my boys and girls
have left home and gone out into the
world, want them to have pleasant
- b,1, IL I