The Iola register., 1886-11-25

| pathlze with the lovers who are so unfort
( unate as to lose their engagement-ring.
''It's goner!" said Mollie's brother Bob
a horrid boy of ten. "When l give my gir
a ring amt a-goin' inter no ten acre lot u
dew it. Ell you'd had emmy sense, Moll
| you'd have grabbed it quick"
Poor Mollie! She was just ready to cry
! and she disappeared from the scene, anG
| her lover went home when he had, as Bot
| expressed it, "grubbed" over the whole
| farm.
~ dare say it's right here under bit OF
grass or the leaves somewhere. 1t didn',
have wings. Bob, I'll give you silver
dollar if you'll find it.''
"Done," said Bob, with a wicked look
! "Please describe it."
''Why, you amt expecting to find har
vest of rings, air yes" asked his father.
"How can tell if it's hisa / amt goin'
to find no strange rings. Meow, is it gold
or brass, Mister Stilesl"
"It's plain, wide gold band, and it's go,
-Mollie''-
$50 on" prompted Bob, as the unhappy
lover came to full stop.
"Mollie, darling" and with that he
waited not upon the order of his going, but
went at once, leaving Bob doubled up with
convulsions of uncanny laughter.
"Pay in advance" called the graceless
youngster after the retreating lover.
But, to do Bob justice, he really did
search every inch of the ground over, and
found no end of things-a disabled lady
bug, a four-leaved clover, rusty jack
knife lost months previous-but no sign of
any engagement-ring.
''Told you so! He didn't hev emmy, ghoa
fall lsn - 4,
and rubbies in it if yen jest say So" said
her cousin Sam.
But Mollie scorned him and his offer, and
that night she cried herself to sleep.
A week passed, and Thanksgiving Day
came. 1t was day of days. Farmer Hart
ner came of good Puritan stock, and the
fires Of patriotism burned in his soul. He
had given one son to his country, and he
would have given ten if he had them,
and the country needed them. In family
with such head, a National Holiday means
something more than IN observance of the
letter of the feast; it means the whole
spirit. The best turkeys, the fairest chick
ems, the tenderest ducks, were laid on the
sacrifcial altar. Friends and neighbors
were invited in. Old "Gran'ther Hart
ner," who eft" in the war of Mexico, was
present Ito shoulder his crutch and show
how fields were Won" ''Uncle Dan'l,"
who had the California fever, and began
every speech with: ''In 49, SIR" was al
ways an invited guest, and the long exten-
siOn-table in the eating-roOm was eked out
with side auxiliaries until it resembled the
banquet-bOard Of . grove convention. And
when the cOmpaLy sat down to their
Thanksgiving dinner, there wasn't hands
space of the white table-cloth visible. 1t
was completely covered with what, in mod
ern parlance, we would call ''edibles," but
which the farmer designated ''as good,
hullsOme vittles.'
And every body was happy, not except
ing the three lovers. For Sanford Stiles
had decided that even if he had stupidity
lost the ring, he still had the girl, and Sam
Hartner had made up his mind that he
didn't want to marry cousin, and he
was going that very evening to pro-
pose to Ella Dunlap, the Wayne County
heart-smasher, who had signified that
'sBarkis was willin'." And Mollie-but
what had come 10 Mollie!
Her cheeks were rcdder than any dog
rose that ever bloomed. The dimples
twinkled like sister stars, and her eyes
were filled with suppressed laughter, and
such wicked, knowing look, that Bob
asked several times:
"What be you a-gigglin' at, Moll."
The older ones were too much absorbed
in admiration of the viands to do much
talking. There was that great, brown,
odOriferous turkey bursting with its own