The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1884-11-21
A TARDY THANKSGIVING.


brought for the occasion oct of the par
lor. She had a mild, tiny featured old
face, wore false front of auburn hair,
and a black lace cap decorated with pur.
pie ribbons, and was knitting-putting
new heels into some blue yarn stockings.
The answer she got to her quest on,
delivered in her prim, purring company
tone, made her jump nervously:
"No; l amt goin a step-not if
know what Pm about"
The words shot out of Mrs. Muzzy's
mouth as if each one had had charge
of powder in the rear and the speaker
went on Jerking the stout thread vicious
ly through the seam she was sewing.
She was squarely built woman, com
pactly fleshy. There was bright red
color on each of her firm round cheeks
there was vague line in her whole face A.:
her mouth opened and shut unhcsitating-
ly and fairly and she looked out of her
small brown eyes directly, with no cir
Cumlocution
"Mebbe you air goin' up to your
brother Andrews, thcn2" ventured the
old lady feebly.
"No, Mis- Field, | amt a-goin' to
Andrews. nuther. l amt a-goin no.
where's"
"But, "purred the old lady, "ain't you
afeard you'll be awful lonesome} Lor',
don't know what should do eff it warn't
for Scrrah an her Children on Thanks
givin'-day. To be sure, you amt got
any Children an grandchildren to 90 to,
but thar's your sister Hannah an hers,
an Andrew an his an it kinder seems
au ! ~ al
'Thar amt no use talkiL'," said Mrs.
Muzzy, in a loud. clear cut voice. Il
amt -goin' to Hannah to Thaaksgivin',
an | amt a-goin to Andrews to Thanks
givin', an l amt agoin' to hev any
Thanksgivin' to hum. | amt got nothin'
to give thanks fur, as | see on. | s'pose
CT L could go to mectin' Thanksgivn'
mornin', an hear the sermon, an then
set down to turkey and plum puddin',
an be a-thankin' the Lord in my heart
for lettin' my husband fall off the scat
fold in the barn an git killed last sum
mer, an for lettin' my daughter Char
lotte die of quick consumption last
spring, an my son John two wear ago
this fall, might keep Thanksgivin' as
well as other folks. But | can't. an
amt a-goin' to purtend l do. Thar's one
thing about it amt hypocrite, an
never was"
"What air you a,goin to do, Mis-
Muzzy2"
''Do" Mrs Muzzy smiled. 500! I'm
a-goin' to stay to hum, an'-do my pig
work"
The old lady's small featured countc-
nance, from its very mechanism, was in
capable of expressing any strong emo
ton, but it took on now a look of gentle
horror She dropped her knitting work,
and her dim blue eyes seemed to take up
the whole of her spectacies.
''Lor' sakes, Mis- Muzzy2 Pig-work
on Thanksgyin' day | never heerd any
thing like it,"
81 don't keer. The pig work has got
to be done, an | might jest as well do it
Thanksgiyin' day as any other. feel
enough sight more like it than eatin'
turkey an plum puddIn', with all I've
been through"
"Ain't you a-goin to mcetin?"
emo"
"Lor' sakeS?"
The old lady fell to knitting again in
mild daze. Mrs. Muzzy would have
been too much for her in her best DAYS;
now she almost reduced her to lunacv.
Still, this old lady, who was a nei@hbor,
living about quarter of nile distant,
felt for her the attraction which weak
natures often feel for the strong. She
was very fond of dropping in of an after
noon with her knitting-work. There was
not so much difference in their ages rs
one might think at first, either although
Mrs. Muzzy was so much younger-look-
ing. Her daughter, who had died the
spring before, had been school mate Of
Mrs. Fields Sarah
The old lady often accepted the invi-
tation to stay and take cup of tea, but
to-day she shortened her call Il little.
The pig work. on Thanksgiving day
ranked in her mind, and she wanted to
go home and tell her daughter Sarah.
After she had gone, Mrs. Muzzy went
from the warm sitting-rnom into her
cold, eXquisitely neat kitchen, and
kindled fire in the cooking stove, and
made herself a cup of tea. Though she
was living alone, every meal was pre-
pared and eaten with religious exacti-
tude. She spread white cloth over
the table, put on some slices of bread,
little dish of ounce sauce, and some
custard pie. Then she sat down with
sort of defiant appetite.
She had finished her bread and sauce,
and begun on her pie when the kitchen
door, which opened directly outdoors,
opened, and girl of twenty or so walked
in.
Chow dye do, Lizzie?" said Mrs.
Muzzy.
"Pretty well, Aunt Jane, " replied the
girl, listlessly, and she sank down in the
nearest chair.
She was tall, slender girl, with dun
eoiored hair. She had delicate features.
and would have been pretty if it had not
been for pitiful droop at the corners of
her mouth, the dizziness OF her eyes, and
the dark rings under them.
EIev some custard pie?"
"Ho, thank you I'm not hungry
81 saw young Allen go by here bout
three O'Clock, ridin' with that Hammond
girl, remarked Mrs. Muzzy, cycling her
niece sharply.
Sha onIv lookad of hor amt IN +ho