The Nevada picayune., 1885-01-15
MIR. AlI{ES'S DREAM.
He Discovers He Has Great Deal to
 Be Thankful For.
the kNtal Press.

eaten luclT DIcdhldSt Wltu tIlc ldiu- fly.
 MT. Aiken looked up. "Jim," he said to ono of them, "I think we ought to get through that job on the flat by Thursday night"
 Yes, sir, was the answer, Eff we keep at it pretty steady.'
 Well, there Is nothing to hin- der. 1 don't think the weather will change. Then there will be time to finish hauling tue wood this week"
 "All right"
 As the door closed Mrs. Aiken said to her husband, "John, Thurs day will be Thanksgiving"
 "Will it?"
 "Yes, and I meant to ask you if you couldn't take holiday, and let us all keep it as it ought to be kept9D
 MT. Aiken leaned backed in his chair. "I don't zee how 1 can without upsetting all my plans, liar riet. Holidays are very we'll for idle people who don't know what to do with their time, but they are a nuisance to busy man.'
 
 Mrs. Aiken said nothing, and he went on:
 "8esides, l don't see that We have had much to be thankful for this year. It has been one series of misfortunes first your sickness then Willie breaking his leg, and last of all, the barn burning up. No, think we may leave it to oth- CT people to keep Thanksgiving Day"
 And so saying, the farmer rose and went out, quite satitied that the matter was settled.
 His wife sighed as she began to clear away the breakfast dishes. Not much to be thankful for" she said to herself, with a strange wonder that she and her husband should see things in such different lights.
 SLe had been i'll in the Spring very i'll, indeed, but was it not cause for gratitude that her life had been spared, that she had been giv- en back to her husband and child ren almost from the verge of the grave? Willie had broken his leg, but then in tha midst of her dis tress and anxiety at the time she had been unspcakably thankful that he had escaped from worse in jury, and the fracture had been so skillfully treated, that it, had left no sign of weakness. Then the burning of the barn in broad day. light, when there was no living creature inside, and on calm morning when there was no danger of the fire spreading, even that, al though it had been a loss in dollars and cents, had not seemed very great calamity.
 She was not IT uch given to sigh ing. Life 10 her was bright and pleasant thing, full of blessing and jos. A more cheerful and conten- ted little woman it would be diff cult to find. But now she sighed again, and wiped away few quiet tears. She had set her heart upon keeping this Thanksgiving. and to give it up she felt to be a needless pain.
 Was her husband growing hard and worldly-learning to care for nothing but mere outward prosper itys She checked herself with a sudden sense of shame. "Dear John," she said, remembering his tender care for her when she was ill, lis sorrow for the little baby,  who had lived but a few short days, his devotion to the children, his openhanded generosity to every one about him. How could she wrong him by such thoughts as these9 If he worked early and late, grudged himself holiday, it was not for the mere love of gain nor for his own advantage. The shad- ow passed away from her heart, and she began to arrange another plan for the coming Thursday. A Thanksgiving dinner they should have at any rate; and in the after noon she would go with the child ren for a ramble over the hills, if the day proved fine; in the evening she would ask the men to come in to the parlor, and play and sing for them and try to give them a
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