Cheyenne transporter. [volume] (Darlington, Indian Terr.) 1879-1886, 1885-12-21
A THANKSGIVING PARTY.

1t was q neat comfortable Kitchen,
though wholly lacking in ornament.
The floor was as white as soap and
sand and willing hands could make it,
and was we'll matched by the angular
wooden chairs, which had become al
most CHASTITY from repeated scrub
bngs.
The brass knobs on the dresser,
and even the pendulum of the loud
ticking old clock shone like FURNISHED
gold, rejecting the beams of freight
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 tho return of her husband from
the wood lot.
A little girl stood by tho western
window, trying to read by the fast
fading light. Her delicate face, long,
shining curlS and dainty apparel
formed bright contrast to the plain
room.
What are you looking for in the
almanac, my child? You'll injure
your eyes.
'Im trying to find when Thanks
giving is; but | can't see any long
er.
you'll be more apt to find it in the
last paper Lucy but can tell you:
il is week from next Thursday"
"Oh, goody! so soonp Wen have
ono of those BIG turkeys, and jolly
time, won't we?"
''I'm afraid not, dear, what put
that in your little headP
"Why, auntie, YOU told me when |
first came that those turkeys were for
Thanksgiving, I've thought Off ever
since.
Oh. yes, / did tell you SO, Lucy, but
meant that wo 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.
missed it sadly at first, for we always
kept the holidays when l was girl at
home. but I've got USE to 1t now after
all these years.
Il don't think | could" ventured
the child, looking solemnly through
the twilight at the turkeys, comfort
ably settled for the night on the bare
limbs of the old apple tree.
We'll, don't shed any tears yet,
Lucy; if you can get Uncle Jerry to
consent, III 90 my part Better not
speak of it until after supper, she
added in a whisper, as she heard her
husbands footsteps at the door.
So, with what patience she could
command, Lucy Wanted till the sup
per was cleared away, and they were
gathered around the cracking wood
fire, Aunt Asther 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
mothers health. Two brothers and
ono sister were at college, and were
TO spend their Christmas holidays at
the farm house. This was the first
time Lucy had been so long from
homo, and occasionally she suffered
from homesickness; and now, with the
fear that the loved holiday was to be
sighted, an attack of that dread
malady was certainly imminent She
felt her courage ebbing away, and
bopelessly sat very still, looking
straight into the fire, till all the curl
ing, writhing flames melted into one
broad sheet of bright mistness, 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 teara, the sly, quick brush of
two little white hands, and brave
effort to keep back sob which was
struggling to escape ''Homesckr'
no thought; "and no wonder, with two
dull old folks like u.s. and for 8