The Osceola times., 1885-11-28
THANKSGIVING STORY.
How JOY Trod Upon the Very Heels
of Sorrow.

How quickly joy treads upon the very
heels of sorrow. or pice verso!
Never was this truism more fully H.
lustrated than on certain Thanksgiv-
ing Day at Grandpa Ashton's.
All Of the young and most of the mid
dle-aged people of their church and
neighborhood called Mr.. and Mrs. Ash
ton by the endearing title Of Grandpa"
and Grandma SO l am taking no
liberty whatever.
The day before the one appointed by
the Governor as national holiday was
bright and cold. and with just snow
enough on the ground to make fair
sleighing; and merrily indeed the sleigh
bells jingled as the good people of
Rnshyille went hurrying about on
thoughts OF business or pleasure.
Grandpa and Grandma Ashton were
old and poor and sad. 1t is surely bad
enough TO be old and poor without hav-
Ing business worries besides; but Grand
pa Ashton had been dreadfully worried
about certain debt that he owed, until
everything looked blue enough to the
dear old man, and Grandma. suspect
ing something wrong, was beginning TO
sigh very frequently, and watch Grand
pa with tender, sorrowful eyes; SO the
business trouble was really taking all
the quiet peace from their old age, and
II not actually unhappy, they were like
ly to soon become so.
When Grandpa came in from milking
cows on the morning before Thanks
giving Day he brought big rooster
under his arm. and opening the kitchen
door said as cheerfully as could be to
Grandma:
See here, mother! Is this fellow TO
be eaten tomorrow l 'spect we'd
ought to make o little preparation,
hadn't we. nowP Nothin' great, Of
course, fur jist us two, but suthin' lit
tie ont of the ordinary run-a d with
one of your ertry nice cream pies, and
few other little fixin's, l guess we'll
do"
yes" sighed Grandma, II don't
care much any way; but as you say, we d
ought to take some kind of notice of the
day, seein' the Governors been and ap-
pointed it. hadn't made no cslcula-
ilons about the dinner, father. cause l
felt so certain some one or other of the
children would insist on us comm to
eat dinner with them. You're sure
there wasn't no letter in the postofiice
last night, amt you, fatherP"
"Yes. sure; but | reckon I'd better
chop this young feller's head of, now
I've got him safe and sound. Tain so
easy catchin' 'em when you're stiff with
rheumatism and hard op to seventy, Is
twas forty years ago, | kin tell ye."
The simple breakfast didn't seem to
taste good TO Grandpa; he nibbled at
one thing and another, and slipped his
tea, and finally he said:
i've got some bad news for you,
mother, and l dunno when I've hated
TO tell anything rs do this.
Grandma raised her head so suddenly
that her snowy cap border stood straight
out, framing pale face, and she raised
one hand rs II to ward of blow.
(Which one is it fatherp" she asked,
her thoughts. mother-like, fying to her
children. IL thought something was
wrong somewhere. jest felt it some
way"
"The children's all well and happy.
fur as | know" replied Grandpa, "hap'
pier by a long sight than their old father.
who's got to be turned out OF house and
home. Pretty hard, mother. amt it,
sfter all the saviu' and pinchin' we've
done for the last fifteen year or more9
Grandma began to sob in weak sort
Of way. She asked no questions, know
ing well enough what he referred to
without further explanations. There
was mortgage on the little house anc
rocky farm, which they had been valnly
trying to cancel for many years. Tht
holder of the mortgage had told Grand
pa that he was going to foreclose on !
the next week and the property would
be sold at auction to the highest bidder
Il wrote to Ezra and Abrsm about
some time ago and 'spose you've tolt
Hammer and Liddy, but they haipt got
word to say, it seems. ! don't expec
they II let US suffer, mother-don't or
so-but it'll be bind Of hard 70 b DC
pendent even on . child d your own-
snd I'm swftl afreid tAey den't 1eee 2