The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1886-11-24
Grandma's Wedding Gown.
A THANKSGIVING SKETCH.

A THANKSGIVING SKETCH.
It wa several years ago that we of the
Eldred family, both old and young, were
invited TO spend Thanksgiving Day al
the old homestead. away up in the lake
region of Western Maine.
The invitation was accepted promptly,
and with pleasant auticipations, that were
heightened by the fact that we were not
only biddep to the frstivisies of Thanks
giving, but also to celebrate Grandma
Eldred's seventy-hfth birthday, which
hap ened to fall that year upon the an
nual h. liday.
To grandmother's room, we young
folks all turned upon our arrival, sitting
there do ing and dreaming before the
great fire place, under the drowsy infu-
ence of our long, cold ride.
TIE sharp tip Of grandma's cane, and
soft thread of her list shoes as she
trudged across the floor, soon aroused us
from our revclies.
"Grandma, why are you so choice of
that blue wool quilt" asked Netty Full
ler, as the oil lady carefully spread a
large newspaper over q portion OF the
bed on which the afternoon sun was shin
ing brightly.
"Be au.e, child. it was once my we'd
ding gown" sail grandma, smiling
cheerily. 'It was homespun, yet
thorght it very fine looking at the time,
though it was not quite so attractive to
my girlish eyes as the one had first
made for the occasion"
"But what became of the first one9"
inquired Susie arland.
"rell US about it, grandma" cried
cousin Katy. "Was It silk or stain, and
did any guilty, unprincipled rival; any
unlucky maiden overcome By envy, steal
It out of spite2"
1T was neither silk nor satin, and it
wasn't stolen at least. not in that way !;
and I got it afterwasd, and wore it out. :"
sDo tell US what happened to it,
grandm |, !" we all urged.
'Well, it was nearly sixty-one years
ago, my dearS, that l wt.s married toyour
grandpa-it was in 1916, the year when
we had no summer. Some people thought
the cold weather was IL bad sign, and
tried to have US put of the wedding; but
I did not have ia tn in signs, neither did
your grandfather. So we very frankly
told them that we did not believe our
Intentions had upset the weather, and
we should therefore be married at the
time set
"But wasn't there any summer that
ycar2' askel Susie.
"It could scarcely be called summer, for
there were frost and ice every month. in
the year. May came in with snowstorms,
md there was ice an iuch thick. The
Planting was put off till the Last of May.
Then about the middle of June snow
came to the depth of seven inches, and
killed all the corn that had sproutcd,
and nearly everything else that had been
plsnted.
eSuch cold weather had never been
known in any simmer before. Some
folks were afraid that the sun was cool
ing off. There was good deal of anx-
iety felt among the fearsome ones on that
account. Winter clothes were worn
through the summer, and so late as the
1st of July there were days when the
men and boys went about their work
with overcoats and mittens on.
'sFather sheared his sheep as usual, and
turned them out to pasture; but during
the month of June nearly half Of them
died, and scarcely a lamb was raised.
All the fruit was killed, and it seemed q
time of general destruction.
"July and August were both cold
months. and those farmers who had re.
planted their corn after the big snow.
storm saw it destroyed by the frosts. In
fact nearly all the corn planted that
year vas unfit for use except for fodder.
esquire Hobson, our nearest neighbor,
who had several acres of burnt land
planted in torn, set large fires about il
on the edge of the woods every cold
night, and the heat and smoke seemed
to k. ep off the frost in measure. Many
Q night we young folks in the ncighkor.
hood gathered about that clearing in tho
woods to watch the fires and eat roasted
ears. The squire had the only corn thai
was raised in the whole town, and the
neAt spring farmers for miles around
came to him for seed, and paid him al
the rate of five dollars bushcl for it
You may be sure there weren't m.ny
Johnny cakes that year.
''Well, on account of this failure o.
the crops father felt poor, and I saw tha
if I had wedding-gown I must earn it
Squire Hobson's wife always hired h, IL
in the summer, and I went to work fo
her at fo ir-and-sixpence week Tha
was seventy five cents, and you can tel
IS well as 1 what girls would think O.
such wages Low"
"Why, grandma, they could scarcel.
get their neckties with that" laughed
Kate.
"But it was considered good pay il
those times,' said grandma. "Mothe
had provided me with WOO! and fax, ant
Ihad spun and wove all the linen I needed
for household purposes, and wool clotl
for blankets. Sol wanted only my dress
and when father went to Wilton, lat n
October. with his poultry and butter,
sent and got the material for it, ant