Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1889-11-18
Abner'S Way.


else is it? We hayen't had a regular
Thanksgiving since l can remember.
Never had anybody more than Aunt
Nancy or Grandma Carr, in all these
years; and / did think maybe we
could this year. But, of course, they
won't think of such thing, and
wouldn't do it if they did,
She sat on the cellar stairs, this
fearful, indignant maiden-Nannie
Holcomb, one Monday morning in
November. 1t was a bright, bracing
day, and some small rays of sun
shine penetrated even the cellars
semi-darkness. One particularly
lively sunbeam-its capricious course
determined by the futtering clothes
on the dryer outside, went dancing
up and down among the bins and
barrels as if to inspect their contents
or, more likely, in kind of sunny
ecstacy over the harvest wealth there
in displayed. And, in truth, there
was good reason for exultation, or as
grievlng as Mamie thought, thanks
giving. There were long bins of
potatoes, sound: shapely, stable;
barrels, red and gold and russell;
boxes of beets, showing their ruddy
skins through clinging soil, and big,
dull colored turnips. There were
great heaps of golden pumpkins shin
ing in the gloom like globes of solidi-
fed sunshine, and smaller piles of
winter squashes of paler tints and
lesser size. There were baskets of
late pears in the warmest corner, and
boxes with suspicious coverings
whence came a fragrance as of
grapes. Through the gauzy doors
of swinging cupboard might be
seen the golden bulk of the last
churning, and by their side, on
long tray, were combs dripping with
translucent honey.
ssEnough here, anybody would
think, to keep Thanksgiving with,
went on the girl, ''only 'twould be
like the play of Hamlet with Hamlet
left out, for l don't believe Uncle
Enos has saved out any turkey; and
+I,;oIy ba ,,,inht -
And the girl lost herself in regret
full -revery once more. She was a
pretty girl, this little Mamie, though
the small hands were trifie red with
much homework, and the soft brown
hair blown into tangled waves by
the wind as she had gone in and out
the fair cheek tear-stained now, and
the brown eyes red with crying.
Enos Carr had taken her into his
heart and home in her desolate. or
phaned babyhood. Very comforta-
BILE she had found the latter, all these
twenty years, despite its sober quiet
ness. Very pleasant it had been to
grow up in it. to assume one by one
little housewifely cares as daughter
might, and finally to find herself mis-
tress, with undisputed sway over all
things indoors, and not little infu-
ence in outdoor affairs. Yes, the
home was certainly a pleasant one.
She loved it well. And Uncle Enos's
heart-well, it seemed to her a good
one in its way. He cared for her, of
course, in his own staid fashion.
She did not think it was in Uucle
Enos to love anyone very enthusiast
tically, perhaps. And Abner was as
like him in most ways as son could
be like father. Abner was younger
and quicker to comprehend, of
course. He had his own ways, quite
unlike those of any other whom Nan
ME had ever seen. He was very
thoughtful of her comfort very
careful that she should not overwork.
He studied with her, history and lit
erature and botany and mineralogy
and music. He read the papers to
her, and talked over their contents.
He helped her care for her plants,
and got her new, rare ones. He
brought her dainty trifes, new music
and late books, whenever he went to
town. Mamie did not like to think
what life might be without Abner-
he was so good and kind and cousin
ly, though he wasn't really her cousin
nor a relative at all. He was Uncle
Enos's son by his first wife; she, the
neice of the second Mrs. Carr.
1t was funny: Mamie unused, that
Abner didn't think they ought to
keep Thanksgiving by having their
relatives with them. There were just
three or four families who would
make such a nice little company.
Aunt Nancy and Uncle and Aunt
Guyson, with Nell and Frank, and
Aunt Kate and Ned. Ned was home
this year, which didn't always hap
pen, and he would come of course
Mamie knew he would be glad to-
for he had walked home from church
with her only the night before, anc
he had said that the country was
lonely, or that their farm was. He
hoped it might not be always.
Mamie had not cared to consider
what he meant, but she would have
fixed him to come to their house TO
Thanksgiving. That would make
things little less lonesome for him
There were steps and voices out
side, and Mamie remembered in
panic that the roll-way was open