The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1888-11-28
A PIECE OF PIE
A Thanksgiving Story.
BY SIDNEY KNOX.

In downtown restaurant In Chi
oago John Gilmore sat at dinner. With
a very discontented expression OF
countenance he was "jabbing" with his
fork piece of pumpkin pie which he
had just ordered, seemingly determined
that that particular piece should never
know another victim.
His thoughts ran somewhat on this
wise: Call that pumpkin pie A yell
low skin over q piece of soggy dough!
Then, through the association of ideas,
his thoughts turned TO that home in
Ohio where his mother, ut this season
of the year, always served daily the
luscious pie, rich as new milk, fresh
eggs and golden pumpkin could make
it. But that home was broken up, and
all its inmates scattered; none of the
numerous kinfolk near the old place
but Aunt Sally Penrose, while he, after
ten years of struggle in this modern
Babylon -Chicago-at the age of thir-
ty, was only just beginning to catch a
glimpse of the way t. fortune; fame he
never expected, Then his mind re-
verified to the stabbed pie, and he said
TO himself, for he never condescended
to scold walters about things for which
they We're not responsible, being gen
tleman: II can't eat this; it's more
than human stomach can endure. be
Iieve L will go back to Brookville and
see the old place and dear old Aunt
Sally. Next week is Thanksgiving
and L cln manage to get off two OF
three days. I'll never marry until
can find woman who can make pump
kin pies as my mother could.
With a final critical glance ut the
offending food, he took his hat and de
parted. That evening he wrote to his
aunt telling her of his intended visit,
and in due time received a reply sc
kind and cordial that it warmed his
rather lonely heart and touched his
conscience for not having gone before
Thanksgiving morning John Gilmore
was wakened 10y the unwonted sound
of Growing cocks and lowing cows. Fol
a few moments he was dazed, then he
remembered that the night before he
had reached Brookville, had been met
ut the station by his uncle James and
taken TO the farm on the edge of the
little village, had sat late talking &c
mis- aunt, and finally, when snugly en-
sconsed between the white sheets, hao
fallen into such a dreamless sleep as he
had not known in years.
After breakfast Aunt Sally said
John, it's union service to-day, anG
will be held In the Methodist Church.
Our preacher will preach the Presby
terrain. You'll go, won't you?"
John hesitated, and then said
"Yes." He had some thought of TAX
ing long walk through the leafes.
wood, where in boyhood he had known
every nook and corner. The day was
80 bright, the air so crisp, that it was
great piece of self-denial to give il
up. But, as he had to stay till the fast
express Sunday night, he concluded tc
spend an orthodox Thanksgiving -
preaching, dinner, and all. He hadn'
heard any old-fashioned preaching
lately. To be sure, he had every Sun
day heard Professor Rope discuss the
questions, political and secular, which
had interested the public during the
preceding week, but, barring the text
il. bore very little relation to its anti
quated relative, the gospel sermon.
Arrived at the church, he found him
self seated we'll up in front. His aunt
bowed and smiled to many; he saw nc
familiar face. His manhood had beer
employed in the great struggle for foot
hold, so that his old friends had beer
dropped, and he had not formed many
new acquaintance. In this atmos
phere of homely, CHEEKY friendliness
he felt like an intruder Just back o.
the preacher was seated the choir, com
posed of the members of all the differ
ent churches in the village. He was
pleased with the sensation of interes
the pretty, fresh faces of the girls
gave him. He joined in the singing o.
Coronation" and other old hymns
and listened to the sermon, apparently
as interested as any one there. 1t wa
a simple effort, suited to the occasion
and the he ,rers, but, by its absence o
pretension, it refrsshe him.
At the close general hand-shakin,
was indulged in, and he was introduced
TO many persons who had known hi
father and mother.
John" said Aunt Sally, cts on
turn this year to go to Mrs. Gray's h
dinner We take year about. tn
Grays, Steels, and our folks; 80, if yo'
will, you may just walk over with tn,
other young folks through the meadow
and we will take Uncle Billy GregI
nome in your place. / was so furrieC
last night / forgot to tell you"
John, when he found it was an estab
hshed custom, made no demur, bu
Said: Certainly, aunt. 1 would be de
lighted to walk through the meadow
out you must introduce me to my com
oanions. don't know them, even b.
sight"
"To he sure you dont" exclaimc,
Aunt Sally. Ruth, Ruth, she called