Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1888-11-29
A PIECE OFPUMPKIN PIE
A Thanksgiving Story.
by SIDNEY KNOX.

by SIDNEY KNOX.
In downtown restaurant in Chi
cago John Gilmore sat at dinner. With
q very discontented expression of
countenance he was "jabbing" with his
fork piece of pumpkin pie which he
had just ordered, seemingly Diet armined
that mat particular piece should never
know another victim.
His thoughts ran somewhat on this
wise: "Call that pumpkin pie A vel
low skin over piece of soggy dough !"
Then, through the association of ideas,
his thoughts turned to that home in
Ohio where his mother, at 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
oil 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-
verted 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-
lieve will go back to Brookville and
see the old place and dear old Aunt
Sally. Next week is Thanksgiving,
and [ cln manage to get OFF two or
three days. I'll never marry until |
can find woman who can make pump
kin pies as my mother could"
With final critical glance at 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 so
kind and cordial that it warmed his
rather lonely heart and touched his
conscience for not having gone before.
Thanksg g.ving morning John Gilmore
was wakened by the unwonted sound
of growing cocks and lowing COWS. For
a few moments he was daZ ed, then he
remembered that the night before he
had reached Brookville, had been met
Mt the station by his uncle James and
taken to the farm on the edge of the
little village, had sat late talking to
his aunt, and finally, when snugly en-
sconsed between the white sheets, had
fallen into such dreamless sleep as he
had not known i'll years.
After breakfast Aunt Sally said /:
"John, it's union service to-day, and
will be held in the Methodist Church.
Our preacher will preach the Presby-
terian. You'll go, won't you?"
John hesitated, and then said,
"Yes" He had some thought of TAX
ing long walk through the leahess
wood, where in Loyhood he had known
every nook and corner. The day was
so bright, the air so crisp, that it was
u great piece of self-denial to give it
up. But, as he had to stay till the fast
express Sunday night, he concluded to
spend an orthodox Thanksgiving -
preaching, dinner, and all. He hadn't
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 tex,
it 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
bowel and smiled to many; he saw no
familiar face. His manhood had been
employed in the great struggle for foot
hold, so that his old friends had been
dropped, and he had not formed many
new acluaintances. In this atmos-
pheie of homely, CHEEKY frieldliness
he felt like an intruder. just bac'i of
the preacher was seated the choir, COM
posed Of the members OF al the differ
ent churches in the village. He was
pleased with the sensat OIL of interest
the pretty, fresh fac of tine girls
save him He jDined in the singing of
"Colo- aticn" AMI OH 4 old hymns,
and listened t. the sern on, apparently
"a into rested rs any one there. II wa3
simple effort suited 10 tha occasion
AMI the he .rers, but, bv it, absence of
presension, it refr she'd him.
At the close general hand-shaking
was indulged in, a1d he was introduced
to many persons who had known his
father and mother.
John" said Aunt Sally, "it's our
turn this year to go to Mrs. Gray's to
dinner. We take year about, the
Glays, Ste lis, and or folks; 50, il you
vii you may just walk over with the
other young f)lks through the MEADOW
AMI we will take Uncle Billy Gregg
home in your plac,. / was Sd furried
last night I forgot to tell you"
John, when he found it was an estab-
lishel custom, made no demur, but
sad: Certainly, aunt. / would be de-
lohted to walk through the meadow,
l,jIt You mus, introduce me to my COM
panions. don't know them, evon by
sight"
"To he sure you dontl" exclaimed
A...,A q all. nIl al, R,,Al, y ohn nnIln1