St. Landry democrat., 1884-11-29
MY AUNT,s WISH.

|
MY AUNT'S WISH.
How, After Many Years, 1t Saved ME
from a Life of Vice and Shame.
had got the '.wish boner' It. was
Thanksgiving Day at grandfather 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, vision of the double
table, with the great, well-browned
turkey and the plum pudding, SC
big it had to be brought on in milk
pan, comes back as freshly, more fresh
", than the doings 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
I'slipped the wish-bone into nv plate;
but thought my finding it piece OF
the purest good luck, and | was as
proud of it as caliph of his conquests.
My faith in those days was strong in
wish-bones. | picked that one clean,
and as soon as dinner was over I want
ed to wish. First one, then another Of
my cousins-Hiram, Frank, Emma
were challenged to take one side of the
bone, and wish with me. But they,
older, all declined. ''It's too green,
they said. Hang it up over the fire.
place till next week"
But | had my '.wish''-the thing /
most wanted-in my mind, and was
not willing to be put off. So I still
went round the table, teasing one and
| another to wish with me, till I was
ready to cry with vexation, while the
others laughed at me.
But my Aunt Theodora-how well ]
remember my fair-faced, blue-eyed Aunt
Dora!- beckoned me to come to her.
Il will wish with you, my Eddy" she
said.
We wished-then tugged and twisted
much in earnest. | was the fortunate
one, and I got the wish, that is, the
larger piece of the wish-bone. | had
wished for sled, and got it two days
after.
Aunt Theodore did not then tell me
her wish; but still recollect seeing her
write 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. I was in
Brownville, Texas. 1t was the year
1877. OF myself / may say that / had
not prospered thus far in life, though |
had been engaged in various schemes
for money-getting. My associates there
were bad, and I am sorry to say was
much like them. Step by step / had
gradually fallen into debasing habits,
and had become companion of sharpers
and adventures.
One day, toward the last of November
that year. letter came to my address.
[ had forgotten the handwriting. The
letter seemed to have something hard
and clumsy in it.
felt it curiously with my fingers,
then broke it open. Inside was a piece
of white paper, yellowed with age,
wrapped round two withered bits of
bone. Penciled on the paper were the
long-ago written words:
II wish that Eddy may grow up an
honest man and true Christian gentle
man. =
Beneath was written more recently:
.sThis was my wish, Eddy-the one /
didn't tell you-when we wished to-
gether years and years ago. May /
Still hope that it will come true9"
A curious sensation of strange long
forgotten things struggled within me at
sight of this relic of my younger, purtT
years. Yes, there was the old wish
bone. Again / saw the Thanksgiving
table and the circle of dear old horas
folks, amid them the thoughtful facb
md kind blue eyes of Aunt Theodore.
will not say that was stricken with
strange or violent remorse. But some
how was able, at that moment, to SEQ
clearly what I was and what ought to
be; and before got up from my chair
| had made a resolve.
Three days later l left Brownvills
and came home to New England. My
first step was then to choose a useful.
honest business; one in which felt it
possible to live honorably before all
men. And that I have done. l am
| now trying to live an industrious, up
right, honorable life. The old wish
bone and my aunt's gentle, prayerful
interest and love were the means, under
God, of saving me from life of vice
| and shame -Toutb'S Companion.