Daily Republican. [volume] ([Wilmington, Del.]) 1874-1890, 1886-11-12
OUR THANKSGIVING.

The morning came. II came n
Other Thanksgiving mornings ha
come-with fresh, froIicking wind
and sunlight, and blue skies: witt
merry voices, with cloudless faces apt
happy hearts.
l remember just how yellow an,
murky the sunshine lay on the floor
that morning, and how / thought tn,
wind walled about the corners of tn,
house-to me it had no frolic. TIL,
children came in from play while
was at work, all flushed and eager
and happy, jostling and pushing each
other good-naturedly in the entry.
Dinner time came at last and IN ex
gathered round the table gleefully-
just as gleefully, l thought, with q
half bitterness, as if they had all been
"Why, what's this fore" asked
Harry, stopping. Mother, you've
got one chair too many"
"Hush, Harry-I know-dont Won
see~ and then Lucy finished her SEN
teDce in whisper.
Why had l done 1t; l hardly knew.
10 lay the plates and set the chairs.
and pass that one plate by--that place
that always was by mine-it seemed
hard. 1t was a very little thing; but
You know how dear these little things
become to women sometimes
SO l put it there-the empty chair:
and with its pititul, appealing blank.
ness beside me, | sat down to the fes-
tival meal. l remember Just how
everything looked, as in a picture
my husbands face, with its peaceful
smile. and the children grouped
around in the old places; and q ieck
OF yellow sunlight that had fallen in
through the warm south window upon
the table cloth. / remember every.
thing. l know that John had lust
bowed his head to ask blessing on
our food, and the children's eyes were
closed, when l saw saw as dis
tinctly as | sec this paper upon which
write the words-a shadow fall
across the empty chair.
l turned my head, and saw him.
my dead boy Willie. / know it was
Willie. You need not doubt me, for |
tell you l cannot be mistaken. Should
not / know him, l, his mother? |
looked deep, deep into his eyes. /
saw the old, rare smile; touched his
own bright curls upon his forehead: |
spoke to him; he spoke to me.
Williep'
"Mothcri
The voice was breathless, but it was
his.
"Williel Williel"
Again the old, rare smile With one
hand he motioned silence. His fathers
voice hushed the amen, and the chill
dren looked up and began their chatter
ibid you speak to me, Mary?"asked
my husband.
mo"
why, thought some one spoke
during the blessing"
So they did not see him. l alone
was chosen. l looked into his face,
smiling, smiling down into mine SO
tenderly-you cannot know how ten
derby; but in his eyes l saw-and
thought my heart would break to see
it-a certain sad, reproachful look, that
/ had caught on his face once. years
ago, when l accused him OF injustice
of some trifling. childish fault-a look
that had haunted me in many a still
hour since. And then l heard him
say distinctly, though not to another
ear was the breathless voice audible:
II want them to be happy. want
you to enjoy the day. Did you think
should not be with you mother"
He was with me, thank God, and l |
was happy. talked. laughed, l |
chatted with the children; their merri- |
ment increased with mine; my hus-
bands pale face lighted up; felt my |
own eyes sparkling. And all the |
while, where they saw only that empty |
chair, | saw the beautiful, Still face and |
happy smile saw him pleased with 1
the old familiar customs. | saw him
of the chlldren's jests. l saw
his eyes full OF their own home love,
turn from one to another and back
again to mel saw and ! was content.
All that day he was beside me. He fol
Owed us into tie sitting room and took
his old seat by the cozy fire. He li.ten-
ed to his fathers stories and watched
he children at their games, and Joined
is when we gathered around the piano
Tor our twilight song. 1 heard his
voice; the children asked what made
me sing so clearly.
Just rs the shades began to fall
heavily he drew me toward lin by the
frost bound window. He stopped and
kissed me. He took me in his arms
and said, as he had said before: l.
ibid you think should not be with
you, motherp"
And then l missed him. called to
him, but he did not answer. stretch
ed out my arms to him, but he did not
come back to me. The room grew
dark; my head swan; tottered over
to my husband.
"Oh, Johnl ! have lost himr'
"Mary-why, Maryl what is the
and he caught me in his
arms